#9.5K are you serious
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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 7
Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Virginity - Jeongin
Word Count: 9.5k
Summary: Long distance friendships work most of the time. But what about when that friendship was supposed to be more? What about when the distance spans over several time zones instead of cities.
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He’ll always be the one that got away, that’s what you tell yourself.
But it’s not like he’s gone completely, no, Yang Jeongin is still in your life every single day. He’s just not physically present now.
The two of you went from spending every single waking moment together to then only seeing him when he’s able to come home during breaks in his idol schedule.
Which is basically never.
When he left Busan, he took your entire heart with you.
The night before he left for Seoul, you told yourself over and over again that you were going to confess to him. That you weren’t going to let him leave for stardom without knowing how you felt.
And if he didn’t feel the same, then the distance would help.
And if he did… then who knows what would happen.
But, when the moment came. And Jeongin was hugging you goodbye in his childhood bedroom, you froze.
“Jeongin, I need to tell you something,” you murmur into his chest during a tight hug.
His hand runs down the back of your hair, his nose digging into the top of your head to smell your coconut shampoo.
“What is it?”
Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it might explode. With the way your ear was pressed against his chest, you’re able to hear his heart thudding against his ribs as well.
He’s probably just nervous about leaving, that’s all.
Every thought flies from your head. Not a single word of your practiced speeches in the mirror come to mind.
He’s leaving. He’s leaving. He’s leaving.
“Y/N?” Jeongin tries to catch your attention by squeezing you tighter.
“Just…” you trail off, blinking the tears away from your eyes. Your throat constricts and gets tighter and tighter. “Just don’t forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”
Jeongin rocks you both from side to side, a thoughtful hum coming from his throat.
“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll text you every chance I get, FaceTime and calls too. You know I will.”
The desperation in his voice causes the tears to finally fall down your cheeks. The other half of your soul was leaving.
Who was going to walk to school with you? Split another menu item with you so that you both could have two different things? Watch scary movies with you and launch popcorn everywhere?
“I know, Jeongin.” A hiccup shakes your chest. “You’re going to be famous before you know it. And you’ll have other famous people lining up to be your best friend.”
“Yeah, well, that spot is already taken.”
Jeongin pulls away from you slowly to look down at your tear-ridden face.
“No amount of distance will change that, okay? I’m serious.”
You bite your lip and look down at the floor with a pathetic nod.
Two fingers hook under your chin to bring your eyes back up to his. They’re glossy and brimming with his own unshed tears.
“Cross my heart,” he hushes and draws an ‘X’ over his chest with his free hand.
“Cross my heart,” you sob and mirror the action.
“Now, stop crying. You know you’re an ugly crier.”
“When are you leaving, again?”
-------------------------------------
It’s embarrassing to say, but you did have little faith in Jeongin to keep the promise.
But you’ll be damned. Because he did so to the best of his abilities.
No, you two were not attached at the hip anymore, sipping soda through the same straw. But you remained as close as ever.
Conversation never dulled over texts.
Sure, there would be periods of time where you would only hear from him once or twice a day. But that’s normal, especially with longer distance friends.
Also, with a schedule like his, it’s a miracle that you get to hear from him at all.
The first year was the hardest. When your birthday passed and he wasn’t physically in the room with you at midnight for the first time, it felt like a dagger to the heart.
Yes, he was on FaceTime with you, but it wasn’t the same; and you both knew it.
Life continued. It didn’t stop in his bedroom like you thought it would.
The ache faded. You adapted. He adapted. But your friendship remained constant.
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“America?” Jeongin asks bewildered on the phone.
“It’s a full ride, Jeongin! I’d be stupid not to accept it.”
You’re laying on your bed, painting your nails with the phone in between your shoulder and your ear.
“I mean, yeah, but like… didn’t you also apply to the University of Seoul?”
“I did, but they’re not offering me a full ride. You know my family’s financial situation, I have to go where the money is.”
“But… but what about plane tickets and such? Wouldn’t the cost just balance out?” he stutters. His tone sounds strained and choked.
You almost wish you were on FaceTime right now so you could see his expression. He was never good at hiding secrets from you, you can read him like a book.
“Not really… I’d probably just… live there for four years and come back when I’m done,” you mumble and then blow on your wet nails. “Jeongin, I really wasn’t expecting this type of reaction…”
The sadness of your voice can’t be helped.
Jeongin had no idea you applied for the photography program at the California Institute of Arts. It was on a whim that you sent your application in.
He makes a choked noise on the other end of the phone. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m happy for you, I really am! I’m over the moon excited! California! That’s-“ he clears his throat. “That’s incredible.”
He’s crying. Yang Jeongin is crying right now.
You sit in silence for a moment and stare blankly at the wall in front of you. With each word that comes through the phone you can feel your heart breaking.
“I can’t believe it!” He continues with his fake happiness. “California! Woo… just- just like in those movies we used to watch to-together!”
Clenching your jaw to stop your own tears, you pull the phone away from your face and tap the FaceTime button.
The line rings a few times before you hear Jeongin gasp and stutter even more.
“I have to go, Y/N. Chan is calling me to do something!”
“I didn’t hear—“
“Bye, Y/N!”
The line beeps three times to signal he hung up. Your phone displays the failed FaceTime call.
Numbness floats through your chest for a moment before something harshly tugs on your soul.
He was expecting you to come to Seoul. To come closer to him, wasn’t he?
You drop your phone onto your bed and continue to sit there, staring into space.
Yes, you wanted to go to Seoul with him, you desperately wanted to do that.
But, you need to think in the long run here! Four years longer away from him in exchange for a lifetime free of debt.
It’s only four years, max.
Tears prickle your eyes and you grit your teeth to try and stop them.
Shit, Jeongin. Come on.
-------------------------------------
You went to America. You made the hard choice, but the right one. And you know it, too.
Jeongin knew it too. Hidden underneath all of the grief of you moving even further from him, he was endlessly proud and happy for you.
But now, instead of a two hour train ride, you were an eleven hour plane ride away. Your day was sixteen hours behind his.
Now, if he texted you and asked what you had for dinner, you would tell him about last nights’ meal or what you were thinking for later.
There were only about two hours a day where you were able to talk at the same time and it was killing him slowly.
When your classes for the day were ending, he was waking up for the next day. When you were getting ready for bed, he was finishing lunch.
If he wanted to FaceTime you at the end of his day, it was the middle of your work day.
You were losing each other.
He was able to do two different cities in the same country, but two continents was its own animal.
Jeongin would lay awake in bed at night, knowing you’re up and moving around. It would haunt him while he tossed and turned.
Because in his mind, you’re also the one that got away. You were the only reason he almost didn’t audition to become a trainee.
But, your entire life, you talked about attending the University of Seoul for college. So, he bargained with himself and became a trainee because eventually the two of you would be together. Right?
No.
Now, you’re in America. You’ve been in America for two entire years.
Making new friends, meeting new people, experiencing everything without him.
The knife twisted in his gut when he started noticing the same name floating around your conversations when you spoke about friends.
Ryan.
It was always ‘Ryan said this’, ‘Ryan did that’, ‘Ryan showed me this’. Jeongin wanted to scream and pull his hair out.
It was only a matter of time until he got the phone call he was dreading.
-------------------------------------
Jeongin had just sat down in the living room of the shared dorm when his phone rang. His seven other members were flitting in and out of the room.
They all knew you very well. Jeongin talks about you so much they would swear you were everyone’s childhood best friend.
The few times you were able to visit him in person before leaving for America, everyone always got along famously.
He answered your FaceTime call immediately.
“Hey!” you say as soon as you see his face. “Are you busy right now?”
“No, not at all. We don’t have anything until later today. What time is it?” Jeongin looks at the clock. “It’s almost 9 PM by you, what are you getting ready for?”
You placed your phone down on your desk. “Well, ah— that’s actually why I’m calling you, I need your advice.”
Felix and Seungmin both walked into the living room, talking quietly and sat down on the couch opposite him.
“What’s up? Are you okay?” Jeongin asks.
Both the other boys perk at his tone and look over.
“I’m um… going on a date tonight. Ryan had asked me out with him tonight. So I wanted your advice on what to wear, since you’re a fashion God.”
The floor beneath him crumbled. His heart fell through the sofa and into the Earth. Even his fingertips go numb.
A date? You were going on a date? With Ryan? You were going on a date with Ryan.
You were going on a date. With Ryan.
“Jeongin?” You ask again when he doesn’t answer for a few moments. His eyes are completely unfocused and spaced out.
He snaps out of it and clears his throat. “What um— What did you have in mind? It’s getting chilly out, right? Maybe wear a sweater? What about that cable knit one I got you?”
“Jeongin it’s LA! It’s always 70 degrees here.”
“But the restaurant might be cold.”
“I’ll bring a jacket then.” You laugh at him, unaware at the absolute anguish he was feeling. “I was thinking something like… you know that black skirt? That with this new tube top I got aaaand my knee high boots.”
“No.” He answers quickly, your face falls. “Why don’t you do the top with jeans?”
“It’s a nice place.”
“M-Maybe a dress then.”
“Jeongin.”
Seungmin And Felix were watching everything unfold in front of their eyes. It was like a car crash, they couldn’t look away.
Jeongin kept going, “I really liked that long sleeved red one you wore for Christmas last year.”
“Jeongin..”
“And if that doesn’t work I just think the sweater is the best option here.”
You stay silent, letting Jeongin finish his ramblings.
There’s a solid fifteen seconds of silence between the two of you before you spoke up on the other line. “Are any of the other boys in the room with you?”
Jeongin immediately looks over at Felix and Seungmin. “Yeah, Min and Lix are here.”
You nod a few times, refusing to look at the camera.
“I gotta go, Jeongin. I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Y/N.”
“Bye. I’ll text you when I get home safe.”
“Y/N, wait!”
Three beeps signal the end of the phone call.
He sits there for a long moment, just holding his phone in his hand before he drops it onto the coffee table.
His heart is shattering into a million pieces.
Jeongin buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.
Both of the other boys sit there, unsure of what to do next. They glance at each other and then back to Jeongin, who hasn’t moved.
“Jeongin…” Felix calls out gently.
The boy lifts his face up from his hands and looks over at his friends. “What am I supposed to do? A date. She’s going on a date. And I’m on the other side of the world.”
His throat bobs with a gulp and he pulls at his pants anxiously.
“Jeongin.” Seungmin tries to grab his attention. “I think she was just looking for support.”
He’s right. He’s completely right, but Jeongin is so blinded with jealousy he can’t think straight.
“I’ve loved her since we were thirteen and she’s going on a date with someone else.”
“You don’t even know if it will last.” Seungmin tries to comfort him.
“They’re already super close, she talks about him all the time, it’s always ‘Ryan, Ryan, Ryan’. He’s her new best friend, not me. She was supposed to come here, to Seoul, not go to America. And we were going to.. we were going to–” He chokes up and can’t get it out.
Jeongin abruptly stands up from the couch and snatches his phone off the table.
“I’m going for a walk.”
And with that, he was gone.
-------------------------------------
He won’t answer any of your texts or calls.
It’s been two weeks since your date with Ryan and you still haven’t heard from Jeongin.
It feels like a giant punch in the gut.
All you want to do is talk to him but he’s nowhere to be seen. He hasn’t even sent you a text to say he’s busy or when he can finally talk again.
Just radio silence.
You thought about texting one of the other members to try and get through to him, but it feels so high school that you decide not to.
All you want to do is talk to your best friend.
But he doesn’t want to talk to you, it seems.
It has to be because of the date. There’s no other explanation behind it. Everything was fine until you told him you were going on a date.
You’ve been here for two years now! Did he expect you to stay single forever?
Just because he has a dating ban, doesn’t mean you do too.
The more you think about it, the angrier you get. The smoldering ashes of your rage don’t dim. Not one bit, they just simmer and flicker on.
It all bubbles and reaches a boiling point one Friday where you’ve had entirely too much to drink.
Your friends dragged you out to a frat party where you drank yourself stupid. Nothing eventful happened at the party, but when you stumbled into your apartment and you were left alone with your phone, it all hit a head.
[March 3 11:48 PM]
Y/N: I’m home safe.
[March 4 4:22 PM]
Y/N: How’d your day go?
[March 5 7:31 AM]
Y/N: Jeongin please talk to me. I have so much to tell you
[2:01 PM]
Y/N: I saw a cute lil baby Fox on my way to class this morning, made me think of you :)
[March 13 6:12 PM]
Y/N: You’re just going to keep ignoring me, huh?
[March 19 3:58 AM]
Y/N: YanG Jeongin.
Y/N: you can’t fucking ignore me forever
Y/N: or maybe you can.
Y/N: is that what you want???? Me to be gone????? All these fucking years of friendship down the drain????
Y/N: well fuck you too, I guess
[4:02 AM]
Y/N: I got hired for your stupid fucjing group’s world tour. For when you come to America
Y/N: I fucking begged my professor to give me the gig for a project. It’s an internship. Was gunna see you next week and everythinfg
Y/N: surprise, asshoke
Y/N: and now you won’t fucking talk to me. Do you realize how petty you’re being? How childish? Over what? A guy?????? I cant fucking back out now, my professor would kill me.
[4:09 AM]
Y/N: the whole tour I was gunna spend with you
Y/N: fuck you, Yang Jeongin.
Y/N: and your stupid fucking childishness.
Y/N: why cant you just be fucking happy for me for once.
Y/N: it took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me?
[4:14 AM]
Y/N: Was I supposed to wait forever?
-------------------------------------
Jeongin stepped out of the shower and looked at his phone.
Fifteen unread messages from you. It’s 4 AM in America, why are you awake right now?
He was so embarrassed over the way he acted two weeks ago that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you.
But my god, he only made it worse.
Jeongin goes through every single emotion while reading your texts. You were going to be one of their photographers for the Manic tour?
You were going to travel with them?
His thumbs quickly tap his phone and as he’s about to click the phone call button, he freezes in his tracks.
‘It took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me?’
‘Was I supposed to wait forever?’
His entire face drops, the excited palpitations of his heart turn sour and what feels like a knife is stabbed through his chest.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He stares down at his phone for what feels like an hour before he hurries out of the bathroom and right into Chan’s room.
Chan looks over at his member with a startled expression.
“Jeongin? Everything alright?”
“No, no everything is not alright.” He thrusts his phone into Chan’s hand. “What do I do? What should I say?”
Chan looks down at the phone with wide eyes, he quickly scans over the text. His face seems to go through all the stages of grief that Jeongin’s did, just a bit more watered down.
“You have to call and apologize, Jeongin. She’s definitely a bit drunk right now, but you need to call her.”
Jeongin gulps and his hands clench and unclench several times before he takes his phone back from Chan.
“Can I sit in here while I do it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He sits down on the edge of Chan’s bed, staring down at his phone like a deer in headlights.
Chan just stares at him, not knowing what to do.
“What do I even say, Chan?”
“How about you start with ‘I’m sorry I was a dick and ignored you’?”
Jeongin groaned and curled in a bit, his jaw clenching with anxiety.
His thumbs move around the screen, but they don’t tap the call icon.
Chan watches. “It’s in the top right.”
“I know!”
“Well you weren’t doing anything.”
“Agh!”
Before he could second guess himself, he tapped the call icon and held the phone up to his ear.
It rings … and rings… And rings…
It doesn’t even go to voicemail. Jeongin’s heart drops through Chan’s bed.
He brings his phone away from his ear and checks that it’s your number he dialed.
It is.
He hangs up and immediately tries again.
It rings … and rings… And rings…
Chan’s eyes follow him closely. His face falls when he figures out what’s going on.
“Jeongin…” he whispers and wheels his chair closer to him on the edge of the bed.
Jeongin doesn’t listen. He hangs up and tries again with shaking fingers.
“I’m sure it’s just a bad connection, right?”
It rings … and rings... And rings…
He hangs up again with a cry.
When he looks down at your conversation he sees another notification.
[8:15 PM]
[Y/N has stopped sharing their location with you.]
You blocked him. You really blocked him.
“She’s drunk, Jeongin. Give it until the morning, yeah?”
Jeongin stares at his phone for a long moment. “Yeah.”
-------------------------------------
The next morning was filled with embarrassment and shame on your side.
When you rolled over with a groggy mind and upset stomach, the first thing you did was check your phone.
You were still in your dress from last night, your makeup was now smeared all over your face and onto your pillowcase.
A few texts from friends, a couple from Ryan, Instagram notifications, Snapchat, nothing from Jeongin.
Your face pulled into an ugly sneer for a moment before it quickly morphed into horror when you tapped on your conversation.
“Oh my god.”
You sat up quickly in bed, and almost immediately regretted it with how your stomach lurched and head spun.
Rereading all the texts, you wanted to slam your hungover ridden head over and over again into the wall.
You stopped sharing your location with him? Why would you…?
Oh, shit. You blocked him, didn't you?
Your hand runs through your matted hair nervously and you stare down at your phone.
“You dramatic bitch!” You curse yourself and gnaw at your lip.
What do you do? What do you do?
Obviously, you tap around to his contact and unblock his number.
The texts immediately flood in.
[March 19 4:25 AM]
Jeongin: Y/N, im so sorry
Jeongin: please answer
Jeongin: Y/N please unblock me
[4:31 AM]
Jeongin: I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to go about apologizing
Jeongin: you’re halfway across the world right now, Y/N, please.
Jeongin: why can’t you just be a two hour train ride to Busan anymore.
[4:38 AM]
Jeongin: I miss my best friend, please
Jeongin: I’m so endlessly proud of you. I brag about you every single day.
Jeongin: that picture you took of the Seoul skyline is still my background. The one with our hands.
Jeongin: I like that it makes me think of you each time i open my phone
[4:44 AM]
Jeongin: i knew you couldn’t wait forever, that’s why it hurts so bad, Y/N
Jeongin: why did I choose this path? It hurts so bad, Y/N
Jeongin: i care about you so deeply
Jeongin: you’re the only one for me
Jeongin: when you left for LA, you took every part of me with you.
[4:57 AM]
Jeongin: im so proud of you, Y/N. I guess I’ll just see you starting next week for the tour.
Jeongin: i’ll wait for you
Jeongin: cross my heart
“Fuck,” you whisper, your voice cracking. Tears welling up in your eyes.
Is he serious?
What are you supposed to do right now?
A text from Ryan comes in as you’re staring at your phone.
[12:41 PM]
Ryan: did you still want to come over tonight?
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A week passed.
Another entire week without talking to Jeongin.
It was like color was slowly draining from your world.
You know you should reach out to him, but shame and embarrassment kept blocking your path to your best friend again.
But now, you had no choice.
You stood in front of a large office building, your bag slung over your shoulder, heart in your throat.
Once you stepped inside this building, it would be the first time in over two years that you and Jeongin were inside the same walls.
If you had pictured this moment just a month ago, you would’ve been kicking open these doors and sprinting through the halls until you finally laid eyes on him again.
But now, you find that it feels like your feet have melted into the concrete sidewalk.
Looking down at your watch, you see that you still have another thirty minutes before you have to be in the meeting. And your mouth is painfully dry.
A bell dings to your right and you see a coffee shop.
Perfect.
You quickly turn and walk into the shop, the same bell dinging to announce your arrival.
The barista welcomes you in, takes your order, and tells you your total.
As you’re fumbling for your wallet, an arm reaches out from behind you and swipes their card to pay for your coffee.
“Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to—“ you turn and your breath catches.
None other than Bang Chan stood behind you with that charmingly bright smile.
“Hi Y/N,” he beams.
“Chan!” you squeal and wrap your arms around him. You completely forgot everything for a moment, especially when he envelopes you in his strong arms. “What a nice surprise!”
“Hi, Y/N,” he says into your hair.
A throat clears behind you so you jump apart to apologize to the barista. She just laughs and takes Chan’s order.
The two of you stand off to the side to wait for your drinks.
“How was the flight in?” you ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“I’ll be honest, I slept through the whole thing, so I’m not sure.”
“It’s probably the only sleep you’ve gotten this week, hm?”
Chan laughs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny it.
The barista calls out a name.
Chan shifts from foot to foot. “I know what happened.”
You tense up and look down at your feet.
“How much does he hate me?”
If you’re being honest, you really don’t want to hear the answer.
Chan scoffs, “Hate you? He doesn’t hate you. He’s just hurt, Y/N. The same way you are. You both hurt one another.”
Looking off to the side, you cross your arms. “Yeah, well. He started it.”
“Don’t be childish.” He nudges you playfully with his elbow. “Distance is hard for close relationships. It was a miracle that you two went this long without a fight.”
You nod your head and bite your lip.
“I miss him so much.”
“He’s just across the street, you know.”
You laugh which causes Chan to laugh.
The barista calls out your name and then says Chan’s right after.
“Come on, Y/N,” he loops his arm through yours and you both walk out of the coffee shop and into the office building.
You sip your coffee nervously, the taste is barely hitting your tastebuds with how preoccupied your mind is.
The elevator ride up to the appropriate floor is simultaneously the longest and shortest ride of your life.
What’s the worst that can happen, Y/N? He punches you in the face? Pushes you down the stairs? Maybe grab your coffee out of your hand and dump it over your head?
As if he ever would.
The doors open and you both step out of the elevator.
Loud voices carry down the hall and you giggle.
“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you guys in person and not over a phone.”
“It’s louder in person.” Chan sighs and leads you down the hall.
Each step is a death march of sorts.
The conference room door swings open before Chan could grab the handle.
Your heart rate spiked and then flatlined.
Jeongin stood there with wide eyes and parted lips. He stared at you with every single emotion known to man.
“Hi Jeongin,” you whisper, holding your coffee tighter.
He says nothing.
Jeongin steps out of the doorway and wraps you up tightly in his arms. One hand on the back of your head, the other on your waist.
A surprised noise leaves your lips and your eyes widen.
The coffee cup is taken from your hand by Chan who slinks into the conference room, the door closing softly behind him.
Without a second thought, you return the hug.
When your arms wrap around him too, a sigh of relief leaves Jeongin’s mouth and his shoulders slump inwards even more.
He didn’t expect you to hold him. He didn’t expect you to even want to see him.
Your arms tighten around his body and it feels like ice thawing from his heart.
Jeongin’s throat tightens and he buries his face into your hair, inhaling deeply.
He hasn’t held you in so long. He’s missed your touch so badly.
Jeongin, who hates skinship, couldn’t wait to have you touch him.
Your hand begins to rub circles on his back and he melts into you like a puddle.
“I’m so sorry, Jeongin,” you whisper.
The dams of his heart begin to crack and break. Every pent up emotion he’s felt for the previous three weeks bubbles to the surface. He stifles a sob and holds you tighter.
“No, please, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His chest sputters with a cry.
You pull back from him and look up at him with red, glassy eyes. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” you push out a laugh in between tiny cries.
You’re trying with all your might not to let the tears fall down your cheeks.
Jeongin isn’t doing much better. His eyes are red and you can see the tears brimming in them.
Three weeks, you haven’t talked. It was the longest span of time the two of you went without speaking ever.
You reach up and cup both of his cheeks. Jeongin’s eyes close and he leans into your touch.
“I missed you so much, Jeongin.”
He winces at your words and his lips pull into an even deeper frown,
Jeongin brings his hand up to cup yours against his face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he repeats.
You step closer to him and press your lips to his cheek. Jeongin gasps under his breath and stiffens underneath you. The skin underneath your lips heats up.
“I forgive you, Jeongin.” You smile and back away from him. He watches you closely with wide eyes. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, you know?”
He smiles sheepishly and nods. “I forgive you too, you know.”
The elevator pings behind you and your new boss walks out with another important looking man.
He smiles kindly at you. “Let us get this meeting started, no?”
-------------------------------------
The first concert went off without a hitch.
Because of your position, you’re traveling with the entire crew and the members. Sleeping in the same hotels, going to the same restaurants, using the same transportation.
Sometimes you feel like a ninth member.
The boys all stood on stage with their hands interlocked to take their first final bow of the tour. You smile behind the camera and make sure to get all of them in the shot.
Jeongin spots you from the stage and smiles directly at you in the media pit. Your smile pulls even brighter and you focus the camera on him for some solo shots.
He winks once before turning to wave goodbye to some Stays in the floor seats.
Your heart flutters, it’s the happiest you’ve been in weeks. Hell, maybe even months.
All of the members exit the stage soon after and you walk with your security escort backstage.
You’re able to hear them before you see them. They’re as loud as ever, yapping about how well everything went, how happy they were to see so many Stays, how they can’t wait for the next show.
When you turn the corner to the dressing room with a bright smile on your face, they all turn and look at you.
“Congrats, guys!” you cheer and clap for them.
They all beam and say thank you.
Jeongin crosses the room to stand by you. He still has his beanie on.
“What did you think?” he asks happily.
“I loved it! I think I took close to two thousand pictures. Maybe more. I’ll have to go through them on my laptop later.”
“That can wait!” Minho calls from the back of the dressing room. “We’re celebrating tonight!”
“Celebrating how, Mr. Lee?” you tease and hear his signature giggle.
“With booze and games back at the hotel.” Jisung answers for him.
“Oooh,” your mood brightens. “I’m always up for that. You’re right, pictures can wait.”
“Great, then it’s settled.” Jisung claps his hands together once. “One hour, we all meet in my room.”
-------------------------------------
They were not joking around with the amount of booze on his hotel counter. You would swear you were at another frat party.
In your cup, you were nursing your third rum and coke of the night. You made the mistake of asking Changbin to make this one. After the first sip you knew this one was going to have to be taken slow.
Everyone was sitting in various seats in the room, some on the bed, some on chairs or the floor. The TV was playing a movie that no one was paying attention to.
“Okay, Felix, truth or dare.” Hyunjin asks.
“Truth– no, dare– no, truth.”
“Final answer?”
“Truth.”
“Who was the last person you stalked on social media?” Hyunjin asks, taking a sip of his drink.
“Ah,” Felix thinks for a moment with pink cheeks. “Oh! An old friend from Australia.”
“Just a friend?” Minho jokes.
“Yes, yes, just a friend.” Felix laughs, waving him off. “Y/N, truth or dare?”
You perk up from your seat on the couch. Jeongin sat on your left, his entire side flush with yours.
“Um, truth, I don’t feel like getting up.”
“What’s your body count since you went to America?”
Your eyebrows raise and you cock your head to the side.
Jeongin stiffens up noticeably next to you, he practically jokes on the drink that he was taking a sip of. “Felix, you can’t just–”
“Two.” you answer quickly and take a large swig of your drink.
Jeongin’s head whips around to look at you as if you just shot everyone in the room. You stare back at him with a confused face.
“What?” you ask, getting defensive. Embarrassment crawls up your neck. “I know it’s not a lot, but I’ve been focused on class and everything, you know?”
“No, I just– I didn’t think that–” Jeongin stutters and looks everywhere but at you. “I didn’t know and you–”
“Tell you everything? I didn’t think you wanted to hear about it.”
“Was it Ryan?” he blurts without thinking.
Your face pulls into a shocked, angry expression. “Excuse me?”
“Was one of them Ryan?” he presses further. The alcohol gave him loose lips.
“Why would–”
Chan interrupts the two of you, “Anyway! Your turn Y/N.”
You stare at Jeongin for another couple of moments before looking away at the group of men. You shake your head in disbelief before taking a deep breath.
“Seungmin, truth or dare?”
-------------------------------------
“You know you didn’t have to walk me back to my hotel room, it’s only one floor up.”
Jeongin insisted on walking you back up to your room when everyone started turning in for bed. The hotel hallway was eerily quiet compared to the noise filled room that the two of you just left.
“You never know what could happen in a hotel hallway.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck nervously.
The two of you take the stairs up to your floor and walk in silence until you reach your room.
“Oh, wait. There was a picture I took tonight that I want you to see! Really quick, come on!” You quickly unlock your door and drag him into your room.
Jeongin stumbles in and looks around. Your room is spotless, just a few clothes strewn about.
You walk over to your camera sitting on the desk and pick it up, looking through the pictures for the one you wanted to show him.
He watches you closely, your face is only illuminated by the small screen display. Your tongue is sticking out between your lips in concentration.
Two? You slept with two people since you’ve been in America? Jealousy began churning deep within his gut and coursing through his veins.
He’s been so busy with being a trainee, then debuting, then training and rehearsing and recording that he hasn’t… he hasn’t been able to be with anyone. Nor has he wanted to. Because none of the people he could have were you.
Jeongin was so hopelessly devoted to you.
Your phone dings on your desk and you look over at it, an angry sneer twitches at your lips and you roll your eyes and then look back at your camera.
“What was that?” Jeongin asked, stepping closer towards you.
You look at Jeongin, then at your phone, then to your camera. “Nothing, you don’t need to worry about it.”
Jeongin lifts a brow curiously. You look back up at him and roll your eyes.
“It’s Ryan.”
Oh, Jeongin saw red for a moment. But, he kept it to himself to the best of his abilities.
“How’s that going, by the way?” Jeongin asks. He really does not want to know the answer. But, morbid curiosity got the better of him.
You hesitate, your finger stops moving on the camera to scroll through the album.
“It didn’t work out.” you tell him without looking up.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
You bite your lip and look up at him. “Are you? Are you really, Jeongin?”
Jeongin is taken aback by your small outburst. “Y/N, I–”
“Because you seem to be super invested in him, Jeongin.” you lower the camera, staring Jeongin in the eye. “Every time I bring him up, your eye twitches. You can’t fool me, I know you too well. I know you hate the guy.”
“I don’t hate him.”
“Then what if I did fuck him?”
Jeongin scoffs and looks away angrily, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t care.”
Oh, he cares so much. His skin is fucking crawling.
“Look at me, Jeongin.”
His jaw clenches and he hesitates.
You put your camera back on the table and cross the final few steps until you reach him. You reach out and grab his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, forcing him to look at you.
Jeongin’s eyes widen and he stares at you.
“Look at me and tell me you don’t care.”
His face twists in anguish. He stares deeply into your eyes, flickering back and forth between them. His mouth screws up in a frown, eyebrows pulling together.
He gulps.
“Say it.” you push. “Say you don’t care if Ryan fucked me.”
“I…” he opens his mouth and promptly shuts it. He swallows again. “I can’t.”
“Why?” you hush.
The grip on his chin tightens even more when he tries to look away from you.
Alcohol thrums through both of your bodies to create a pleasant buzz and lift your confidence levels with one another.
“Why, Jeongin?”
“Because!” he cries out. His arms uncross and he grabs both of your shoulders tightly. “Because maybe I want to be the one fucking you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”
You’re taken aback for a moment. Truly, you didn’t expect him to be so crass.
“Because maybe I would lie awake in bed at night thinking about being your one and only.” Jeongin steps towards you and you back up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Because you drive me fucking crazy and I want you all to myself. Because I can’t stop thinking about fucking you into my mattress every single night!”
Your hand drops from his face but he snatches it up in his own larger one.
“Do you understand how bad I want you?” he whispers harshly. His nose is scrunched up and he’s talking through gritted teeth. “I’ve wanted you so badly for so many years. I can’t even look at anyone else because you exist. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. No one else exists, no one else makes me feel like you do.”
“How do I make you feel?”
Jeongin stares at you for a moment before he brings your hand down to press at the crotch of his pants.
Through his sweats you can feel just how hard he is. Both of you whimper at the touch.
“I want you so bad, it hurts.” Jeongin begs. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want you to be my first. I can’t be your first, let me be your last.”
Your heart is hammering against your ribs.
Is this really happening?
“Please, Y/N,” Jeongin whimpers. “I’m begging you.”
He’s begging you to take his virginity right now? Right now?
“Now?” you ask, bewildered.
His dick twitches in your hand and he closes his eyes in what looks like pain, but you both know it’s pleasure.
“Please.”
The tension in the room snaps.
“Jeongin.” you grab his attention.
His eyes snap open and look at you.
“Kiss me.”
He gasps, cock jumping in your palm again before he smashes his lips against yours with a grunt.
He’s absolutely devouring your mouth with his. It’s wet and sloppy and completely inexperienced. But what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.
Moans are slipping from his lips left and right as your tongues intertwine together.
Your hand slides from his dick up his body to tangle in his hair. Your other reaches up and you grab one of his from your shoulder to place it on your waist. He paws at your shirt with his long fingers.
You nip gently at his bottom lip and he moans.
“Am I dreaming?” he whispers against your mouth.
You reach around and pinch his side. He yelps and jumps a bit.
“No, not dreaming.”
He swoops down and locks your lips once more. Your fingers massage his scalp and comb through his hair.
You part from his lips for a second to yank your shirt off. Jeongin watches you with hungry eyes, he’s trying so hard to maintain eye contact with you, but he keeps glancing down at your chest.
“Yours too.” You point at his shirt.
It looks like he practically ripped the thing off. It flies off the top of his head and onto the floor. His bare arms come around your exposed waist, his lips searching for yours.
He’s frantic in his movements, like if he isn’t kissing you, he might die.
You grab his hands and bring them up to your bra clasp.
“I don’t–”
“Learn.” you hush against his lips and suck on his bottom lip. He moans and his fingers grasp at the clasp clumsily.
He’s so focused on trying to unclasp your bra that you take the opportunity to kiss his jawline with an open mouth. Your teeth nip at his sharp jawline and he gasps.
Down his neck you trail your hot, wet kisses.
With each passing moment, you can feel his desperation growing and growing. A frustrated whine comes from his chest when he can’t get it.
You bite his collarbone harshly and his knees buckle slightly, but he keeps himself up.
“Y/N!” he cries out, pulling so hard at your bra you think it might snap in half.
You giggle and have mercy on him. You reach behind yourself and unhook your bra in one movement.
It drops to the floor and this time, Jeongin has no reservations about staring at your naked chest. His lips part and his own chest starts heaving with pants.
Another laugh comes from you.
His eyes flicker up to yours for a split second.
“Are you going to touch me or just stare?” you tease him with a sultry smirk.
Both of his hands come up and cup both of your breasts in greedy handfuls. You moan at the sensation and wrap an arm around his neck, bringing your lips back to his.
Jeongin fondles your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples gently. Your back arches into his touch.
“Do it again,” you breathe out. He immediately follows your command, pinching and rubbing at the sensitive buds. Every single one of your noises is swallowed by his wet, swollen lips.
His kisses leave your lips and travel down your neck. They’re too gentle and innocent for your liking.
“Fuck, bite me, Jeongin.” you beg.
Without any hesitation, his teeth sink into where your neck meets your shoulder. You cry out and roll your hips into his.
The hands on your tits stutter in their movements before speeding up, the lust consuming his brain.
He bites again and again just to feel your hips move against his, to hear your moans right next to his ear.
The tent in his gray sweats seems painful at this point. He continues to rut against your body for any sort of relief.
Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull his mouth off your neck. HIs lips break their suction seal with a pop and he looks into your eyes.
He already looks so fucked out it sends a bolt through you.
“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper against his lips.
If it’s his first time, you want it to be memorable.
He doesn’t put up a fight at all. His mind is completely gone, he just nods over and over again. You could tell him ‘jump’ and he’d say ‘how high?’.
Your hands slide down his sculpted chest, mapping out each of the muscles. Jeongin keens under your touch, closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure.
When your hands get to the top of his pants, you quickly slide them down, taking his boxers with them.
Gray sweats pool around his ankles and his long, hard cock bobs as its set free from its fabric confines.
Jeongin hisses when the cold hotel air hits him.
You lean up on your tiptoes and capture his lip between your teeth for a moment at the same time you grab his dick gently.
The whine he lets out is sinful.
He’s been dreaming of your touch for so many years, and now that your hand is finally wrapped around him, he can’t believe it.
You release his lip and it snaps back into place.
Slowly, you slide your hand up and down his cock. So much precum is weeping from the head of his cock. Every movement pulls a noise from Jeongin.
“Sit on the edge of the bed, Jeongin.”
He gulps and obeys your order, his cock standing proud between his parted legs.
Jeongin watches you closely as you sink down to the ground onto your knees. He fists the sheets on either side of his body with white knuckles.
He has to be dreaming. This has to be one of his wet dreams where he wakes up with ruined pants and sheets.
Settling between his thighs, you run your hands up his legs. Jeongin watches your movements with a fucked out expression. The way your fingers glide over his skin raises goosebumps.
One of your hands comes out and grabs his cock with a gentle, yet firm, grip. His eyes snap shut and he can’t stifle the moan that punches from his chest.
His cock is so slippery from his own precum that your hand glides over the skin easily.
You pump him up and down for a bit, alternating your grip from firm to gentle, changing the tempo from fast to slow.
His hips won't stay still on the bed, he can’t keep still even if he wanted to. The pleasure from your hand is fucking killing him. It’s all consuming.
You smirk. “Jeongin, look at me.”
He cracks his hazy eyes open just to see you lean forward and lick a fat stripe up his entire cock.
Jeongin cries out and his head tilts back. His hips jump around and his legs feel like they go numb.
You open mouth kiss down the sides of his shaft.
The pleasure shoots up his spine, he can practically taste the electricity.
Just when he thinks it can’t get better, you wrap your entire mouth around him and sink down to take as much of his cock as you could without gagging.
His hand flies to your hair and grips tightly. The strands weaving through his lithe fingers.
Up and down, you bob on his shaft, making sure to let the saliva pour from your mouth and down over his balls.
Jeongin doesn’t even realize how hard he’s pulling your hair until you moan around him. He cries out at the vibrations and pulls even harder.
Your other hand wraps around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.
He’s on cloud nine, he can barely breathe. Every intake of breath takes his full concentration, you’re making him feel so fucking good.
No matter how many times he’s touched himself and imagined it was you, it could never compare to the real thing.
His eyes follow your head, watching his cock disappear into your mouth as you stare back at him with those sinfully innocent eyes.
You’re going to be the fucking death of him.
He’s only able to last for a few moments with your mouth on him before Jeongin is panting out.
“Y/N, you- you gotta, ha– You gotta stop or– or I’ll– fuuuuck– Im c-close and I– hng! But I wanna–! I wanna–! I wanna fu-huck you!”
You swirl your tongue around his head and pop off his cock, sit dribbling down the sides of your mouth.
“You wanna fuck me, Jeongin?” you ask him with a sweet tone. It fucking kills him.
“Yes,” he pants out, “It’s all I want.”
“You’re gonna let me pop your cherry?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. After you ask that, you lean over and bite his inner thigh.
Jeongin yelps and tightens the hand in your hair.
An embarrassed flush covers his neck and ears. “Please, Y/N.” he whimpers.
Smirking, you stand up from the floor and make quick work of your own sweatpants. Jeongin watches you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue darts out of his lips and licks them when your panties drop to the ground.
“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him sweetly.
He tears his eyes away from your naked pussy to look up at you. He gulps.
“How do I…?”
“You want me on top? You want to fuck me from behind? You want to be on top? How do you want me, sweet Jeongin?” Your hand comes out and caresses his cheek. “How do you want our first time?”
His cock jumps at the thought of you in each of those positions.
But one sticks out.
“Need you underneath me,” he whispers, keeping eye contact while his hands come up to rest on your hips.
Your hand cards through his hair. It’s so fluffy.
“Whatever you want, Jeongin.”
Leaning down, you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. It’s the tamest one you’ve shared tonight.
When you break apart, he chases after your lips, but you crawl onto the bed, laying down and making yourself comfortable on the pillows.
Jeongin follows your movements with innocent, fucked out eyes. He licks his lips again and his eyebrows pull together as he watches you.
You part your legs and run a finger through your sopping wet folds, making a show out of displaying yourself to him. He watches it like a hawk.
Slowly, you bring the finger up and stick it in your mouth, tasting your own juices.
“Come on, Jeongin. You said you were going to be my last.”
He turns and scrambles onto the bed, crawling over you and smashing your lips together desperately. Both of your legs wrap around his waist while he devours your mouth with his own.
His tongue is everywhere in your mouth, licking your own, invading and licking the roof of your mouth, coming out to lick your lips.
When you whimper, you feel his cock jump against your heat. Your hips roll onto his and his hips buck downwards into yours.
Both of you are moaning, panting messes when he pulls away.
“I don’t have a condom.” he says painfully.
“I’m on the pill.”
“Are you sure?”
“Jeongin, please fuck me already. I’ve waited my entire life for this.” you smile up at him with shiny eyes.
His eyes search yours with an equally sentimental look in them.
He nods once and lines himself up with your entrance. His head rubs along your folds a few times, making himself slick.
Your head tilts backwards into the pillows.
“No, please, look at me.” he begs breathlessly.
Immediately, your eyes snap open and you gaze into his.
Two heartbeats pass and he presses into you, his cock invading your soaking walls. The stretch feels so fucking good, you’re so horny for him.
Jeongin is the one that has the harder time keeping his eyes open, his pupils are blown out. His jaw drops in a strained moan, face screwing up almost painfully with how much pleasure is coursing through his veins.
His hips stutter a few times until he bottoms out.
“Holy fuck,” he whines. His hands clenched into fists next to your head.
“You feel so fucking good, Jeongin,” you praise him, your own voice is fucked out.
“I’m not going to last,” he cries and buries his face into the crook of your neck.
“Don’t worry about me,’ you coo.
His hips buck again and he whimpers into your skin.
“Jeongin,” you call to him and he lifts his head. His hair is so ruffled and messy, lips are swollen and wet, cheeks covered in a permanent blush. “Fuck me until you cum.”
His eyes roll back in his head and his hips pull out and slam right back into yours. Both of you cry out, your back arches.
Jeongin continues to fuck into you at a sloppy, harsh pace. His eyebrows furrow in concentration. He looks down at your tits bouncing with each thrust, his head dips down and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
“Jeongin!” you cry out and arch into him. He moans around your nipple, biting it gently and rolling it with your teeth.
His thrusts are getting frantic.
He pulls off your tit with a pop and comes up to your face.
“Need you to cum with me,” he murmurs before capturing your lips. “Need it, need it, fuck! I need it, Y/N!”
“Give me your hand.”
He balances his weight on one of his hands and holds out his other one. You guide him down to your folds and press his long, beautiful fingers against your clit.
“Mmmm…” you moan when you guide him to rub in circular motions.
He feels you clench around him and he whimpers into your open mouth.
“Just like that, Jeongin.” you rasp. “Keep that up and I’ll cum on your cock.”
“Jesus.”
He rubs faster in some moments, slower in the others. His mind is swimming in the clouds. Everything feels so fucking good.
Your whines get louder and louder, each one more higher pitched than the last.
“Close, close, close…” you breathe out against his lips. “Hah!”
Thank god. He’s been this close to blowing his load for the last four minutes, but he needed to feel you. He needed it.
“Yes, Jeongin! Yes!”
His thrusts get harder, his rubbing on your clit matches the timing.
You reach around his back and scratch your nails up his back.
“Come on, Y/N.” he whines. “Cum for me, Y/N. Need to feel you cum around me.”
Your pussy clenches down on him impossibly tight, your head is thrown backwards and your mouth stretches open in a silent scream.
It throws him over the edge, he spills into you with one of the most feral noises he’s ever made in his life. It tears from deep within his chest.
He cums forever, painting your insides white.
Jeongin buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both come back down to Earth. Your heavy breathing fans out over his back.
One of your hands starts rubbing up and down his naked skin. It’s warm and inviting and he wants to curl into it forever.
He eventually pulls his face away from your neck and looks down at you with stars in his eyes.
“Good?” you ask.
Jeongin laughs and leans down, pressing a kiss to your nose. “It was perfect.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
#skz smut#stray kids kinktober#stray kids smut#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz kinktober#yang jeongin smut#jeongin x reader#stray kids fanfic#jeongin smut#yang jeongin x reader#i.n smut#i.n x reader#stray kids x y/n
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guys my age | jeon jungkook
summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.
➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]
➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration
warnings: 9.5K words. smüt. 6 9 position [ oral f & m receiving] use of protection. roūgh missionary. they go like three rounds. reader gets on top. dirty talk, use of ‘little girl, slüt, etc but lightly] y/n is a man eater lowkey. jk wants to resist but he can’t lol. y/n is rich and spoiled, Y2K style. big bOobs lol. y/n is besties with jk’s daughter. stays at summer home. y/n is a cöçk tease. always teasing him. lawyer jk, with tattoos and piercing. y/n has bellybutton piercing
song inspo: cola — lana del rey [i got a taste for men who are older] affection — abra [did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?] guys my age — hey violet
Illicit Desires | DILF!Jungkook collab
The blaring sun burned against your skin, your patience running thin the longer you waited outside. A key was being jammed into the doorknob with no luck to actually get it to function. You were tired, hot, and hungry—never a good mix when it came to your mood. Your feet hurt from the kitten heels you wore and the black handle of your suitcase was getting hot with the summer heat.
“Hurry up,” you whined, a manicured hand with long pink nails waving in an attempt to fan yourself. Only seconds later the click of the lock was heard and the door was opening. You and the person in front of you groaned in relief and you were trudging inside the large house you’d be spending your summer at.
“My dad’s not home so we’ve got the place to ourselves for a couple hours, what should we do?” Your friend, Jieun, asked once the two of you made it to the stairs to take your things to her room. You gave a shrug in response, “I don’t know, I’m hot, I can’t think.”
“Oh, so you think you’re hot?” She joked with you knowing that was not at all what you meant but you winked at her anyway. Your gum smacked with each chew as you looked around her bedroom that looked fit for a teen which made sense since she’s been rooming with you in the dorms for the last two years.
“I thought you didn’t like your daddy,” you were teasing but also serious when you sat on her bed, skirt shifting to show more thigh. Jieun just sighed, opening her drawers to pull out a bikini, “It’s complicated. The divorce with my mom was ugly and it was only three years ago. I was a teen so I held a lot of resentment toward him and her.”
“Wasn’t she the one who cheated?” You asked curiously as she passed you your smaller bag for you to fish out a bikini. Jieun nodded, “Yeah, I know but my dad was always busy. Always gone for work and I don’t know, 17 year old me wished he was around more so she wouldn’t feel so lonely.”
You let the subject go in order to change out of your clothes that had been way too hot for the heat and into something way too small. A hot pink bikini with small triangles covering your breasts and a small pair of bottoms with silver links to hold it together. Jieun directed you outside and she went to get drinks and snacks for you two before joining you. You managed to pull a heart shaped floaty toward you and laid inside of it with your legs hanging out the side and a cherry coke in your hand.
“Is your dad hot?” You asked looking over your sunglasses as they hung low on your nose bridge. Jieun rolled her eyes as you passed her the donut floaty.
“Don’t ask me,” Jieun said as she finally made it on, “And leave my dad alone, the old men you like are sad.”
“Whatever, I was just asking,” you laughed, “And I’ll have you know I prefer them younger.”
She just rolled her eyes moving next to you and the two of you floated in the pool for a good while before dropping yourselves into the cold water. You played only one round of mermaids until you swear you died and came back to life.
At the sliding door stood a man, a very attractive older man dressed in a forest green matching shirt and shorts that could pass as pajamas. His shirt was slightly transparent but unfortunately you couldn’t see much. He slid the glass door open coming out with a pair of black sunglasses that he pushed up to his hair. Jieun turned to look at what you’d been staring at and she waved a hand, “Hey.”
The man’s eyes swept back to you, “Hey.” Jieun swam to the edge of the pool pulling herself up with absolutely no grace and pointed to you, “This is my roommate Y/n, she’s staying with us this summer.”
“Oh really?” He asked looking to her, “I don’t remember you telling me about this.”
She just shrugged, taking her towel and stretching one out for you to grab. You dragged yourself to the edge of the pool before placing your hands on the edge and pulling yourself up in one go. You didn’t notice the way Jieun’s dad watched the water cascade down your breasts to your stomach and thighs until you dragged yourself up. You took the towel from Jieun and dried yourself off looking back to him, “Hello Mr. Jeon, I’m Y/n, Jieun’s roommate for the past two years.”
You placed your hand in his as greeting and he gave it a firm shake, “Call me Jungkook, has Jieun gotten you set up in the guest room?”
The three of you went upstairs and for some reason you felt the need to walk with a sway in your steps knowing Jieun’s dad was behind you. You also knew you shouldn’t be doing that in just a towel and very skimpy bikini but you didn’t care. You knew in the back of your mind Jieun was one of your best friends and thinking her dad is hot should be weird. You also knew you were going to do what you want anyway and if that was planning a little game for the summer you were going to do it.
In truth, you were a very spoiled person. You came from money and your dad never thought twice about doing what you wanted so obviously you would be spoiled. You didn’t care about the consequences, you just did what you wanted because it was fun. It wasn’t going to be anything serious anyway and it’s only your first day staying here and you had to entertain yourself some way if Jieun wasn’t around.
“Thank you for letting me stay Mr. Jeon, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go for the summer,” you said once it was just you and him after getting changed. He was bringing in blankets and pillows for you. He stopped to look at you, eyes threatening to trail down your body again but he forced himself to only look at your face, “It’s no problem, did your parents not let you stay with them?”
“They’re away for the summer,” you told him leaning against the back wall as he put the bed sheets on the bed you’d be sleeping on, “They didn’t want me in that big house all by myself for three months.”
“Maybe they don’t trust you,” he said with a small smile trying to make himself feel comfortable around his daughter’s friends. It is very hard to not think about the girl in his house that was so physically attractive it had him anxious. It just wasn’t a good idea to think about a girl his daughter’s age. You had no idea he had these thoughts, all you knew was that you were in the mood to talk, “They don’t, I’m not always the best behaved.”
“In my house, I hope you’ll behave,” he let the words slip before he could stop himself. They sounded more flirty than he meant them to when in reality he just hoped for no trouble with you. You weren’t making this easy when you tilted your head to the side and batted your lashes, “Keep a close eye on me and maybe I will.”
Jungkook seemed to freeze for a moment, his hand fixing the fitted sheet and using his sudden tension to stuff the fabric into the frame. It was silent and when Jieun came up looking at you, “I ordered pizza.”
“Yum,” you smiled cheerfully, “Are you joining us, Mr. Jeon?”
You stood at the doorway facing the stairs but turning your head back to look at him. He was already walking behind you and when you got to the stairs, his hand touched your back lightly. He stared forward, looking distant as he said, “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” With that he looked to you quickly before looking ahead.
The first few days you barely had a chance to see him, you mostly hung out with Jieun and went out with friends. He was up early and got home late so you didn’t see him often. Tonight though, you’ve gotten lucky. Jieun has a date tonight with her boyfriend and she’d be staying the night at his house. Now you would be home alone until Jungkook came home and sometimes it’s not till late evening.
So you spent pretty much all day, after noon, by yourself trying to quench your boredom doing anything you could. Now you’re outside again tanning by the pool, or attempting to. The sun was already setting so there wasn’t much left and yet you remained outside.
“Jungkook, man, are you even listening right now?” A voice boomed through the speaker of his cellphone. He could barely make out the person’s voice as he held his phone away in a trance. His attention was elsewhere, somewhere he shouldn’t be focusing on, but he was.
It was hard not to stare at the view just on the other side of the sliding door. This time you were in yellow. A bright pastel that had a silver heart ring holding your top together at your breasts. From here he could see the belly button ring you had and you just looked… like sin. He was too lost to notice the way you pushed your glasses down to stare back at him. It wasn’t until you gave a little wave that he snapped out of it.
“Yes, I’m listening,” he muttered back to Taehyung as he went back to the kitchen to at least pretend like he wasn’t watching you. It was wrong, you were his daughter’s age but you just looked so damn good. And you know you’re attractive, you know that just one look and someone would squirm and currently that’s him. He has no business being 38 watching a girl who is barely 21 and thinking about the way your bottoms hugged your ass that he catches himself looking at from time to time.
His hand ruffled his hair in an attempt to shake the thought of you away, “But I should go, I’ve gotta start dinner.”
“Oh, but I wanted to know how it’s been having Jieun back? Does she come home for dinner everyday?” Jimin asked, still trying to keep a conversation going but then you came in. The tiniest denim shorts on with the button and fly open showing off your stomach and a small triangle of the yellow bottoms. You seemed to forget a shirt, sauntering into the kitchen in just the tiny bikini top and shorts, a pretty smile on your face, “You’re home, I was feeling lonely.”
His phone nearly slipped out of his hand.
Snap out of it, Jungkook, he’s reacting nervously around you and he shouldn’t.
“I’m about to start dinner,” was all he said to you before continuing his conversation with Jimin, “It’s been good but she’s not home today. She’s spending her night with Yoongi.”
You sat at the island leaning against the marble counter, pressing your chest into it and his eyes flickered to the way they seemed to bulge even more than usual. Oh God.
He could see small, hard buds through the fabric, “Jimin I’ve gotta go, I’m going to start cooking.” He needs a cold shower, like now.
“Or we can order,” You said once he was off the phone, “I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard… what’s the word I’m looking for?”
“Day?” the word came out in a stutter that had his neck heating up in embarrassment. Why was he getting flustered? He’s had very little interaction with a woman consistently, aside from the women at work and they were nothing like you. They wore gray pencil skirts and white button ups—not yellow bikinis where he could see your hardened nipples poking out. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t had opportunities to date in the last three years but with his divorce and busy with work all the time he didn’t go out. He was a boring man in his eyes.
You flashed him an innocent smile that he’s not sure he believed, “Then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight, a thank you for letting me stay. Should I call and order?” Unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth, he just gave a subtle nod.
“I’m going to shower while we wait,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. You told him okay, ordered, and then showered yourself.
For dinner you had Italian and you were fully dressed now—still not enough for his prying eyes—but enough for him to focus on his food. He hates to admit that he’s way too curious tonight to ask questions, “What are your thoughts on Yoongi? Does he treat Jieun right?”
“Mhm,” you nodded with a light bite on your lip, “The sweetest, perfect for her.”
“For her? Wouldn’t everyone want a sweet guy?” He’s not sure why he asked or why he was curious to see what you’d say. All he knew was that his plate of food was no longer being eaten, and instead played with by scraping his fork against it. He avoided your eyes and you loved every second of it. He was just so cute getting nervous by a younger woman like you. It’s just too tempting to wanna make him squirm. A big, bad man like him falling underway by your teasing.
“I like them a little meaner, a little more authoritative,” you said looking up at him, “Like the ones who can put me in my place when I’m being difficult.”
“Hm,” he hummed in thought looking into your eyes, “Difficult?”
“Yes, I have a tendency to want what I want and find a way to get it,” you told him, voice more assertive, “And if I don’t get it, I become a huge brat.”
“So someone who can handle you?”
“Yes, but I’m a lot to handle, Jungkook,” you said his name laced with lust and if he said it didn’t go straight to his flaccid member, he’d be lying. He took a big drink from his glass of wine, “I’m sure someone is up for the task.”
“I hope so, I can get very impatient,” you raise your glass to your lips to drink, your eyes locked with his. With that you stood up with your plate, “Are you done?”
He gave a silent nod, not trusting himself to bite back a comment about how he has no patience for teasing. He’s not even sure those would be the exact words he’d say, or if he’d say how capable he is of putting someone in their place. You took his plate and washed them before excusing yourself to your bedroom to answer some call. He caught a small glimpse of the name already calling you and it was a man.
It’s been two weeks. Two hard weeks of forcing himself to not think about his daughter’s friend, but it’s been so damn difficult that you’re clouding his vision. All the looks you sent his way whenever you were with Jieun or the little comments you’d make that had his head spinning in guilt and lust. It’s been too long since he’s slept with a woman and anytime he sees you, he’s reminded of it. Like right now.
He was supposed to be working on a case with his partner, Namjoon, but he was distracted. They worked at the kitchen table but then you came in with a short, fitted black dress that barely covered your butt. Even Namjoon seemed to turn and stare when you opened the fridge and bent down at the waist to look inside. Jungkook’s head rested on his palm as he watched, half hoping your dress would rise just a little more but it didn’t, sadly. He was supposed to be doing all the paperwork that laid across the dinner table, not stare at you rummaging through the fridge.
You pulled out a bottle of pineapple juice, sipping from a straw as Jieun came down just a little more dressed down as she asked, “Is he almost here?”
Jungkook snapped his attention back to you in confusion. Is who almost here? “Are the two of you going out with Yoongi?”
“I am, Y/n’s meeting up with a guy, so lucky you dad, you might get the house to yourself,” Jieun said putting a hand on his shoulder waving a greeting to Namjoon, her father’s friend.
“Don’t miss us too much,” you teased, making him look back at you. “How well do you know this guy?”
“Just enough, we had a couple classes together,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders still sipping on the pineapple juice. He’s sure the taste of the fruit would remain in your body for hours.
Jieun laughed, “Y/n doesn’t need to know him well for her plans tonight.”
You sent her a wink that Jungkook caught and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t feel… jealous? Upset? Annoyed? All of the above? He doesn’t want both of you gone, he’s gotten used to a full house and he doesn’t want to feel lonely again. Jieun he can understand, she’s seeing her boyfriend but you… you’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligation to another man so why can’t you stay home. Despite all the women who notice him, he seems to have a love/hate relationship with the attention you gave him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with you in that sense, but the other was enough to boost his ego. Despite his age he was clearly attractive enough to gain the attention of a 21 year old used to college guys. So, no, he doesn’t want you to go out with one of those guys and remember that Jungkook was a boring lawyer and father of your friend.
“Well he’s outside,” you said looking at your phone, “I guess I’ll head out now.” Jieun joined you when Yoongi sent her the same text and you two were leaving.
“How are you living with that unaffected?” Namjoon finally said once the two of you were out the door. Jungkook shook his head, “I’m not.”
Long after Namjoon left, Jungkook found himself still awake working in his office. It had to be around midnight and he didn’t feel tired, he felt anxious. It stresses him out because why on earth does he feel anxious? He should feel relieved to have time to himself but he doesn’t. He’s currently staring at the clock every five damn minutes. Jieun won’t be coming home, he knows that, but now it looks like you aren’t either.
He shouldn’t care about his daughter’s friend but something about you just draws him in. You were like a succubus in his eyes, a beautiful girl who can draw anyone in and even he fell victim to it. It’s so wrong, you’re too young, you’re his daughter’s friend. But you’re so damn enticing, like every little thing about you. From the way you chew your gum while looking at him to the sway in your hips when you walk. The way you batted your pretty long lashes when you’d ask how his night went. You make little comments that he swears were suggestive that he knew he shouldn’t like, but he does. It makes him blush, honestly.
He knows he’s an attractive man. He’s fit, he’s got the looks, money, age. He has tattoos and piercings and he’s clean. He knows that women at the store try to flirt with him in line. The ones at work always have some favor to ask or some help they need. When he’s at the gym he feels eyes on him but none of it matters. Jungkook has thought about going on dates when he’s been asked and lately he’s been thinking about trying again but he just doesn’t know if he should.
At his age, is it even worth it anymore? His wife of eighteen years cheated on him just three years ago. He doesn’t think about her outside of when it has to do with Jieun but still. That’s the last woman he’s been with, it’s not like he’s your age.
You’re young and a very attractive person. You’ve got the smile, the confidence, the looks, the humor. Honestly, he could go on. He’s thought about it before, you have a way of drawing someone in and clearly it was true. If you’re on a date then obviously you know how to get someone interested, especially if Jieun always jokes about how you string these boys along. Actually, he’s not even sure if what you’re doing now is part of the date.
It’s too late for dinner. That could only mean one thing, you were probably at the guy’s place or maybe a hotel room. If that was the case then clearly you could only be doing one thing. That thought alone was enough to make him stiffen in his chair. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the things you were doing in your little black dress, or even with it off.
Jungkook knows what your body looks like under that dress. He knows that you have a little tattoo on your hip that was only noticeable when you wear one of your tiny bikinis. And god, he shouldn’t, but he feels so damn envious of whoever gets to see what lies under those poor excuses for bikinis. He can only imagine what man you’re with, what hands are touching down your naked body.
The look in your eyes when a certain spot was touched, maybe your back would arch and your hips would buck. Maybe you were sensitive, so damn sensitive that when Jungkook first gets his hands on you, you’ll be dripping in your panties—if you wore any.
Wait.
Fuck.
When did this become an imagination of him being the one touching your body? His jeans seemed to tighten, his member growing more erect with each passing image of you under him. Falling apart with his teasing this time, batting your eyelashes at him like an innocent, sweet girl, when you were anything but. The things he could do to you, teach your body so many different sensations that only he could bring you—
“Mr. Jeon.”
His entire body froze, even the small pulse of his hard length at the sound of your voice. Jungkook snapped his eyes to the door of his office, now more open than before with you standing there looking like a walking sin.
You just called him Mr. Jeon and it seemed to send him back to reality about the fact you were much younger than him. Not only that but a friend of his daughter’s.
“Y/n,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his chair awkwardly, “When did you get home?” Could he call it that? Call it your home when you both know it really isn’t. You giggle softly, pushing off the wall sauntering over to his desk with a little sway.
“Just now, I didn’t want to wake you,” you moved around his desk making him more anxious by the second. He was suddenly too aware of the bulge between his legs due to his perverse thoughts. His hand was suddenly on his lap trying to hide himself when you leaned against the desk, right next to him. Your hands on the wooden table supporting your weight, “But you weren’t even sleeping. Why are you up this late?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Jungkook looked into your eyes when you frowned. Your face looked flush, eyes a little red and nose puffy. You had a lazy smile, “And here I thought you were waiting up for me.”
“I didn’t even know if you’d be back,” he looked away when you pushed off the desk, shifting his eyes back to his abandoned files. He kept his gaze stuck on it as you walked behind him with a hand on his shoulder, before there were two. His breath hitched as your hands touched his shoulders. You leaned against his back just briefly and he could smell the alcohol on you. It made him tense and he could feel his back muscles twitch. Your palms flattened against his shoulders before sliding them down toward his collarbone as you said, “I bet that worried you. Not knowing what I might be doing, who I might be with.”
He didn’t say anything, eyes failing to stay open when the fabric of his button up shifted against his skin with each drag of your hands across his shoulders, “What are you doing?”
You just smiled looking down at him. You couldn’t see his face but you could see the angle of his head hanging low. You could see the clenched fist around a fountain pen and an arm conveniently placed on his lap. “You just seem so stressed lately. I want to help you relax.”
“Oh,” his voice strained when you nearly closed your hands around his neck, the unbuttoned top of his shirt nearly exposing more of his chest than he wanted it to. “Y/n.”
He needs it to stop.
This needs to stop.
Now. He could feel it, he was very close to snapping. This isn’t right, not at all. But it’s not entirely wrong and it’s all just confusing him and his dick. He had to think of something else but he didn’t want to tell you to stop touching him even if he knows he should.
“How was your date?” He asked, probably one of the worst things to ask but he did so anyway. You didn’t stop your movements, unaware of the way his lips parted when your nails scraped along his chest. God, it felt so damn good to be touched. It was all he could think about and he didn’t want it to be.
“It wasn’t a date,” you told him, continuing your massage, “We went for drinks and, no, nevermind, I won’t say.” You ended with a deep sigh that had him whipping around to stare at you.
“And?” He asked, finally exposing himself to you with disheveled hair, lust blown eyes, and a wrinkled button up. “What else did you do?”
As he asked and his eyes fell upon your neck, something was building up within him. The sight of the small red mark on your neck, “Well?” His voice was deeper, more stern and definitely not happy. He was jealous and you knew it.
“So you were worried,” you giggled, “Were you thinking about it all night? What I might be doing?”
He didn’t confirm nor deny it but he did look away as if he’d been caught. He couldn’t face you but that didn’t stop you from pushing. This was like the red button.
You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing.
“Well…” you took a long sigh, a soft moan in thought, “After the drinks we went back to his place and well, you know how that goes.”
“Hm,” was all he said and you stopped running your hands along his shoulders. For some reason he was disappointed that you did. You just smiled, “That’s all I can say unfortunately, I missed you too much to stay the night so I got an Uber and came home.”
“Y/n,” his voice was firm but the hair on his arms rose at the raspy tone of your sleepy voice, “What are you doing?”
“Having a conversation with you,” you told him simply as you moved back against his desk, his knee so close to your leg as his chair spun out just a little. His eyes narrowed, “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t think I do,” even as you said that you bit your lip, “Why don’t you tell me?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly stressed. He can’t just tell you. What if he’s just imagining your touches? Your innuendos? He’s much older than you and for him to be bringing this up was embarrassing enough. So instead of doing it, he just gave up.
“You should go to bed.”
“Are you going to take me?”
It went quiet and you swear his gaze darkened in an instance. You weren’t sure if he was deciphering every meaning behind your response or if he was debating actually doing it. You wanted him to. Just look at him. Whenever you even think about him, every concern for Jieun as a friend completely slips away. He’s just too damn stunning, too damn perfect. The fact that he was older just made it ten times better.
You looked at the clock behind him before saying, “I guess I’ll go, but I’ll miss talking to you.”
“Y/n,” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. You looked back at him as he stared down at where your hand was in his. No.
No. Jungkook, don’t even if you really want to at least get a kiss. No.
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat preparing himself to talk, “Goodnight.”
You smiled, “Goodnight.”
You left without another word and the second the door shut behind you a breath of relief was pushed out from his stomach to his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned looking down at his aching member.
He doesn’t think he can resist you the next time.
It happened again a couple nights later. This time around, Jungkook felt even more delusional over it. You were only looking at him but you weren’t being at all appropriate. Especially not now having dinner with Jieun and Yoongi. It was a table of four so he was close to you and God, this was getting harder by the minute—or no, he was.
Your foot was pulling at his pant leg and he had to pretend like it wasn’t affecting him. He listened to you talk to Jieun instead.
“So how was the other night with Jimin?” Yoongi asked you at the dinner table. Jungkook pretended like he wasn’t interested, too focused on his dinner plate. From the corner of his eye is where he watched you. You gave a small shrug, still running your foot past his knee until your leg was on his thigh. He places a hand over your ankle, a small squeeze to try and get you to stop instead of just pushing it away.
His hand was rough with age and work and your foot was smooth. It was big, with long fingers, even his pinky and you wondered what else he could do with them. Jungkook hand began hesitantly caressing your leg as you spoke, “Good, but I’m not going out with him tonight.”
“Someone else?” Yoongi asked as he served you all more food from the middle of the table. You smiled, “Maybe.”
Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he shook your leg off of him. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do with him but he’s a grown man. If you want to do things with him he’s not going to wait around for you to finish up with another guy. Especially with a guy much younger than him who he knows won’t be able to please you like he could. Just from the way you’ve been acting he knows not everyone can handle you. You’re a cocktease and maybe he’s delusional but he knows you want him. So why are you going on a date with another man?
No.
Why does he care?
Why is he thinking about a girl young enough to be his own daughter? Why is he imagining what you’d look like sitting pretty on his dick. Why doesn’t he care that Jieun is sitting on the other side of him and all he wants is to slide his fingers up your leg and under your skirt. He could if he pulled your chair closer. He really could. He feels guilty but not enough to ignore this anymore, they’re only thoughts anyway. He wouldn’t actually do it… no, never.
“Do you want us to drop you off when we leave?” Jieun asked once dinner had been over. You shook your head, “No, I won’t be with him till later. What time are you getting home?”
“I’m not,” Jieun said, patting Yoongi’s stomach, “Staying at his place.”
“Alright, I’ll probably start getting ready.”
Jungkook went to his office when everyone left. He would do more work tonight, now he’s got all the time in the world apparently.
Once again he was going to be alone in the house.
Once again you were going out with another man.
Once again he finds himself thinking about it and feeling irritated.
Jungkook doesn’t know you have something up your sleeve. He doesn’t know that the whole time you were talking with Jieun all you could think about was how to get her father to fuck you how you’ve been craving all summer.
He couldn’t even concentrate on his case files, he could only think about what you were doing. He hasn’t heard the front door or the sound of your heels clacking on the stairs. You must be in your bedroom trying one one of those tiny little dresses you like to wear.
How was he to know what you were currently doing? Was it through the text he just received with your name displayed. He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and clicked on your message. It was a photo.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hand running over his face and into his hair as he looked at it. There’s no mistaking what he’s looking at.
You were sitting on his bed wearing the skimpiest slip of black lingerie he’s ever seen. It was a dress, but it wasn’t even enough to cover the black lace panty you wore. His eyes followed the length of your legs, pressed together so elegantly as you posed in front of his large mirror, perched on the edge of his bed. One of your hands was on your lap, keeping the short dress from showing any sliver of underwear. It was your form of teasing, acting like it was innocent and playing it so poorly, but that’s what you were playing at. You knew what you were doing.
Jungkook knew you were bad news the second he saw you in the pool with his daughter. Even before he saw your body, your eyes were seductive. Your tone was always flirty, and he responded to it. God, since the beginning he would react, always giving a little answer to your flirting, always looking when you wanted him to. Even now, his fingers hovered over the keyboard finding it hard to just tell you to stop. He read over the text attached to the photo.
you: should I wear this out tn?
His breath hitched roughly, tension running through his muscles processing your text. You were apparently showing him something you planned on wearing tonight? Asking for his opinion? Sitting on his bed? There’s no way, absolutely no way you’re doing this to him right now. He dropped his phone on the desk and leaned back against his spinning chair. His hands covered his face, easing some tension away in thought. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t.
You might have really done it this time, you’re not even sure what transpired you to act out this way aside from a selfish need to get what you want. This had started as just a way to not get bored during your summer stay and that was all it was supposed to be. It’s not your fault that Jieun’s dad is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And if things went the way you wanted them too, he would be in the same room as you very soon.
If they didn’t, then it was safe to say you would never show your face around here ever again.
There was a bigger sense of confidence that came with preparing this whole ordeal, but the wait itself broke it down. You were so close to getting up and running out the door when it opened. In walked Jungkook, looking as disheveled as possible but he tried to hold himself together. You looked up at him from your seated position as he took in the sight of you.
“Y/n,” his eyes trailed upwards from your exposed legs to your pretty face. A small choked out groan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready?” You asked standing up to look at yourself in the mirror, “How do I look?”
“Y/n,” his voice was stern, turning to face you, “Don’t play with me.” You didn’t bother taking your eyes off your own reflection, capturing his glare through the mirror. “I’m not, Jungkook, I’m just asking a question.”
“Jungkook?” He asked as you finally turned to him, taking a small step closer. He’s so used to hearing you refer to him as Mr. Jeon teasingly that he forgets what it’s like for you to actually say his name. You nodded, standing in front of him, “Or Mr. Jeon?”
He looked down at you now that you were mere inches away from him and he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. You don’t care who he is, you don’t care if he’s older either. He wanted to tell you this was inappropriate and to leave but he would never kick you out. He wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like it either, “Are you wearing this for a boy?”
A boy. Someone younger than him, probably one of those he’s heard you like and it’s not him. He’s a man, he can really show you what it’s like to feel pleasure. You looked down at your slip dress that had him looking down at your exposed cleavage. Without thinking you pressed a finger into his abdomen lightly, “I’d prefer it if it were for a man.”
Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter away from yours, the sexual tension at a high as he leaned into the touch of your hand as it lowered. You were so close to him, chest nearly against chest and you were wearing so little. He licked at his dry lips, “Why’s that?”
“Guys my age don’t know how to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”
In an instance, any thought of putting a stop to this vanished. Every reminder that you weren’t just an attractive younger woman expressing interest in him, vanished. All it took was the soft whisper of your response into his ear for his body to turn to mush. Jungkook barely shifted his head to the side when your lips met his, hungry and fast. His hand pressed into the back of your head, tangling in your hair, to keep you from moving back but you wouldn’t dare. The only moment your lips separated was during the first press of your tongues, meeting in the middle with the slide of spit.
Jungkook couldn’t get enough, the last time he had even kissed a woman, touched one in this manner, it had been a while. A long while that created such intense build-up when you came along making him break. The hand that hadn’t been laced in your hair was touching your waist gently but firm. It was soft but you could tell you wouldn’t be moving away anytime soon. It didn’t stop your fingers from trailing even lower than his abdomen, to the belt on his jeans. With one hand you began to tug on the belt loop, turning your neck as he began to leave wet, needy kisses down your jaw, your back arching from the way he had to bend over you to kiss your neck.
He released a low, breathless grunt at the rough pull of his zipper, hips moving with the force. The arm he had on your waist pressed you to his side when your hand dipped into the waistband of his briefs. His other hand left the back of your head, sliding down toward your neck, releasing a short moan, “Y/n.”
It has been too long. Too damn long since the last time a woman touched him. No, it’s been long since he let a woman touch him. Jungkook always had many opportunities to see someone but he never did it. He never seeked anyone out for sex, he just let himself take care of his own needs and feel unsatisfied. Now he’s letting someone young enough to be his daughter put their hand on his dick.
And it felt so fucking good. Jungkook stopped his attack on your neck to take a proper inhale, trying to keep himself under control as you palmed his naked member. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft stroke. You kissed down the expanse of his neck feeling the vibrations of his low groan. Your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum. Your fingers brushed along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t wait. He wanted more.
With the hand that he had on your neck, he held you away from him. Your eyes met, both looking blown out and yet you still managed to look so seductive. His eyes shifted back down to your parted lips releasing small pants of breath. He licked his dry lips and with a raspy voice, he said, “Get on the bed.”
You looked down at his cock that still felt heavy in your grip. With your eyes locked with his, you moved to the bed sitting on the back of your legs, arms on your lap looking oh-so-obedient. His breath hitched at the sight and he was quickly undressing himself the rest of the way standing naked before you as you sat looking pretty in your little black dress. He got on his knees letting them sink to the mattress as you got up too.
A shiver ran down your spine at the feel of Jungkook’s rough fingers running across your shoulders to lower the thin straps of the dress. They trailed down your back softly, catching the ribbon that tied it together against your spine, and undid it The thin, silky fabric dropped down on the bed revealing more of yourself to him. Jungkook looked down at your chest, he was used to the size of them. All summer long you were showing off your pretty tits in tight tops and slutty bikinis, and yet the full view was so much more. Your nipples were pointed out, sensitive from being exposed and his rough, large hands cupped them. You released a quiet whine as his fingers pinched your nipples. Jungkook’s jaw was open, speechless at how soft you felt in his hands, “You’re such a pretty girl.”
You nodded, biting into your lip when he lowered his head to place a kiss on the plumpness of your breast. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders not wanting to stop when his tongue swiped at your nipple, licking it before sucking it into his mouth. Jungkook traveled his hands down to your thong, groping your ass before getting a hold on the material. With little effort on his end, he tore one side at your hips and did the same to the other until it was coming apart from your legs. Your underwear was left ruined as he held you by the waist, guiding you on top of him as he moved to lie back. You didn’t say anything, only soft moans leaving your lips at the way he moved your body around to his liking. You were both fully naked now and he guided you to turn away from him, gripping your thighs as he backed you up to his head and you got the hint.
Jungkook was being impatient, he needed to feel everything. He couldn’t wait to taste your pussy or to feel the tightness of your throat constrict around his large cock. He wanted to do it all now, not later. Later he can explore slowly, learn every way you want to be touched. Because if you think he’s going to be done with you after one round, you’re wrong. He moved his elbows under your knees making sure your thighs hugged the sides of his head and his body shivered. Just above his face was the prettiest little cunt he’s ever seen. Slick coated the outside and pooled at the center. Your clit was in view and the way you arched your back made your pussy pop out more. He swallowed dryly.
How did he manage to get this sight in front of him? He was a fool to think he could withstand your games, clearly not. But he can’t just let you toy with him, he’ll show you how to make a woman cum.
As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his thighs, nails digging into the muscle at his boldness. Your mouth parted in silent moans as his hands pinched your hips, pressing you down further against his mouth, getting the first taste of pussy he’s had in years—even before his divorce. You better believe that he was not doing this to his ex wife the months leading up to separating. Even if he was, nothing would have compared to how eager and wet you were.
“Da—Ju-Jungkook… ” You whimpered as you brought his cock toward your mouth, tongue swiping along his side in hopes of bringing pleasure to him fast. Your tongue began from the base of his cock where his neatly trimmed hair ended, licking all the way to his tip. From there you wrapped your lips around his head letting your tongue swipe along the slit that released clear dribbles of precum. As best as you could, you tried to relax your throat, guiding him down as far as you could.
The feeling of a warm and tight mouth around his dick had him moaning. His eyes rolled in pleasure as his thighs tensed, “Oh fuck, Y/n,” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “Your mouth feels so good.”
Lewd sounds came from your mouth with each thrust of his cock down your throat, tongue licking as much of his length as you could. Jungkook was getting messier with the need to bring you to an orgasm with his tongue. Slick sounds formed every time he lapped his tongue between your pussy lips, nipping at your clit with each swipe. His fingers were digging small crescents into the roundness of your ass as he made you ride his face harder.
“Oh my god,” you cried out like a whiny brat as your hips twitched in pace with the cool in your lower belly. Jungkook placed a hand behind your head not to apply pleasure but to keep you in place. “Oh my god,” you repeated and you were so damn loud, so shameless with your moans and he’s only used his mouth so far. He’s so thankful you never tried this when Jieun was home. He wouldn’t be able to keep you quiet if his dick was in your tight snatch.
Jungkook was relentless, licking at your cunt even as you released your juices all over his tongue. He ate you out through your orgasm, letting it dribble down his chin that he pressed against your clit, shaking. He was close, so fucking close but if he cums it’s going to be in your pussy. He needs it now.
You nearly fell to your side as he moved you off his lap and you collapsed onto the bed, hand feeling around against the comforter to find your little item. He was too busy fixing himself between your legs to notice you touch a small black package. You picked up the condom moving it in front of him and he took it without a word. Jungkook felt like his hands were shaking as he put it on. The anticipation of being inside you was building up and making him jittery. You were going to be so sensitive with the way he ate your pussy and he was so hard it will be very hard to be gentle. His hips dipped down as his hand lined his cock between your folds. Wetness stuck to the condom, and he began a slow grind making sure to touch your clit as he did so. His hands pressed against the bed near your ribs and looked at the sight. You brought a hand down between your legs, spreading your slick around his cock hoping to get him to just fuck you already. You didn’t want him to tease you or stretch you or gently talk you through it. You want him to stuff you full of his cock and tell you much of a bad girl you are.
You don’t know how to explain but he was such a man. Not a boy, not a college guy or late-twenties coworker. He was a man who worked out every day, trimmed his body hair, cooked meals and did yard work all while looking so unbelievably hot. He would take care of you, he has been taking care of you and you wanted him inside of you now.
With your hand already against his cock you took a hold of him as you lined him up with your entrance hearing a soft grunt leave his lips. Jungkook was going to stop you and do it himself but he found it so much hotter to feel you guide his cock into your pussy. The softest pussy he’s ever felt, hugging his dick with warmth and wetness. Sucking him in as far as you could take him and dragging along his length as he pulled back in a nervous twitch. He won’t last, he won’t last at all
“Come on Mr. Jeon, show me how a real man fu—ohh,” he sank back in, the same vacuum sealed feeling hugging his cock and he found it hard to pull back out. Jungkook was quiet, too focused in the need to just fuck that he’s not paying attention. He’s doing what feels good until you tell him to stop. His hands snuck between the mattress and your ass, finding purchase as he lied down against your body. His knees dug into the bed and the muscles in his thighs flexed with the first real hit of his hips against yours, cock digging in just a little further. Your arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby when his hands held your butt so tightly that your hips lifted off the bed. He fucked you onto his cock, back flexing with each thrust that made his spine protrude in his arched form in an animalistic way.
Jungkook was so turned on, so close to the edge that he wanted to scream. He could hold off so much longer but not right now. Not while your moans tickled his ears and your skin was hot under his mouth with each kiss he placed on your neck. You moaned loudly, “I’m so close, oh… daddy, ohh.”
“Shh,” Jungkook mumbled against your throat, “Just cum baby, be a good girl and cum for me. I want to feel your slutty pussy cum around my clock.” He was so close, he just needed the final push and he wouldn’t be so desperate to get off.
Like before, the only warning you gave to your release was the tremble in your thighs. Jungkook released a low growl that made your throat bob as you practically hugged each other with the way he still held your ass to his cock, both coming undone at once.
Jungkook was heaving for air, legs shaking as he set you back down the inch he lifted you up. Your walls still clenched and unclenched around him and he had to turn you both on your side to be more comfortable as he began to pull out.
He rolled onto his back, hand on chest as he looked up at the sky, “Fuck.”
You smiled moving to sit lips placing a kiss to the line between his feelings the way he gasped for air. You wondered if you’d have to wait for a second round another day. “You’re still hard.”
It was true, despite the puddle of thick semen on his lower stomach, he was still hard, and your hand running up his thighs wasn’t helping. Jungkook looked down at you, “Condom?”
“I’m out but I’m on the pill.”
Jungkook wanted to be more rational but he could. He still needed to feel you on his cock. “Come sit on my dick, pretty baby.”
With a flirty smile you did as told, quickly swinging your legs around his hips as you held his cock up, Jungkook had to bite his lip hard to hold back the moan he was going to let out. This time around, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to place his hands on your hips and push you down his length.
“Y/n,” he moaned as you began to ride him, grinding against his base every time you sank down on his dick. You’d raise your hips and drop them back down against his with a smack. “Fuck, tightest fucking pussy. Fuck, look at you.”
You were such a sight with your pretty face displaying pleasure, your first bouncing with how hard you rode him, belly button ring glistening every time light reflected off the jewels. Jungkook’s hand ran over it before coming up to your breasts. “All summer, teasing me with this body, leaving me to jerk off in the shower to the image of it.”
Your pussy twitched at his words, “I touch myself to the thought of you, Mr. Jeon, I’ve been dreaming of this cock in my pussy.”
Your words traveled straight to his dick, pulsing at the idea of you with your fingers in your cunt fucking yourself to him. You were riding him with such eagerness that the bed shook with each bounce of your hips and his hand couldn’t help but spank your ass urging you on. Once again he felt himself close and he wanted to warn you. He was waiting to know for sure if he was going to when everything seemed to stop except the bounce of your hips splitting your cunt open with his cock. His eyes shot to the bedside table where your phone sat facing up, Jieun’s picture on screen.
His heart stopped, trying to get you to slow down but it was too late. He was reminded of your age and relationship with his daughter. You reached for it before he could stop you and pressed it against your ear fighting his hand that reached for it, “Hello?”
“Hey ugly, is my dad home? He’s not answering his phone.” Jieun asked through the phone. You looked down at Jungkook who shook his head with pleading eyes for you to stay still but not stop. He still needed to cum.
“He probably left in his room,” you said the last words with a grind of your hips that had him biting into his knuckles to fight back a moan. You sat straighter, enjoying the stretch of his cock, “Is there something you want me to tell him before I leave?”
His eyes shifted to you now. What do you mean leaving? You sent him a smile, shaking your head to assure him you didn’t mean it and that you wanted to have fun with him all night. Jieun signed, “Just tell him that I left the keys to Benz on the mantle.”
“Mmm, okay,” you said softly as Jungkook began to respond with his hips bucking to meet yours. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve gotta go Jieun, I’m about to leave, I’ll tell him.”
You hung up with that and he took your phone dropping it on the mess of pillows on the floor before sitting up to hug your body fo his, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”
“She left the keys to the car on the mantle,” you moaned out as his face dug into your perky breasts, nuzzling into them. He growled in frustration, grinding your hips on his length, “I already know, fuck she interrupted us for that?”
“While I’ve got her best friend riding my cock like the little slut she is?” He licked your nipple and his words had you moaning, shaking in his hold. He really didn’t seem to care anymore.
He was fucking you from below, sitting you on his lap and making you bounce on his cock, “You like fucking your friend’s dad? You like older man dick?
“Yes, fuck Jungkook, only yours,” You moaned making his chest blossom with pride at your words. With your affirmation, he moved onto his knees, hands under your ass as he fucked you onto his cock.
“Gonna cum for me? Is my baby gonna cum on my cock?” He asked with a coo but with a deep tremor in his voice, “Yeah baby? Such an eager brat, look at you.”
“Mhm,” you nodded and he went faster.
When you came undone, Jungkook took you off his cock. He couldn’t be gentle with it as he came all over himself. A hand was on his dick as he eased himself through his second orgasm of the night looking over to you. You were tired after your own third orgasm and toppled onto his bed. Jungkook knew he should feel some form of guilt but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his hand over your back to your ass as you laid on your stomach. Your perky little ass taunting him so much that he leaned down and place a kiss on it, biting lightly into the plump flesh making you shake your hips from sensitivity. He gave it a final smack.
Maybe when the sex-fueled fog leaves his mind he’ll realize the damage he’s done.
He fucked a woman much younger than him, fucked you real good.
He had let himself be seduced by a total nymph.
His daughter’s friend.
Yet all he could say as he lied down on his back to catch his own breath before a possible third round was…
“You’re such a good girl when you’re taking dick.”
He had about a month before you and Jieun left back to school and he was going to make it worth your while. You’ll never want younger men again. You’ll want his cocking fucking into you every time he visits Jieun. He’ll sneak into your dorm when she’s at work and fuck you with all the pent up desire he’ll have from not having your body in months.
And you’ll take every inch he gives you like a good girl.
REQUEST 1
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a/n whewww look at that taglist 😮💨also this was so fun to write and just imagine dilf jk 🤩
#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#jungkook au#dilf jungkook#dilf smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#kooktrash collab#bts smut#dilf bts#bts jungkook#bts imagines#guys my age
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the swindling of steve harrington’s heart
word count: 9.5k
synopsis: you write for the advice column in the hawkins post, under the pen name gabby. you get a letter asking for advice about a first date and there’s no way it’s the same guy you’ve just landed a first date with, right? steve harrington doesn’t need help with his dates... right? [based on this post] [fem!reader + strangers to lovers but… steve’s a big sap for you already, ok?]
The first letter comes in on a Tuesday.
It’s posted in an ordinary envelope, with only a messy scrawl on the front to dictate that it was for the advice column of Hawkins Post. Inside revealed the same loopy letters, on a single piece of paper, reading:
Out of all the letters you’ve ever received at this job, most of which were lengthy admissions of troubles in suburbia, this one was by far the most interesting one you’d gotten all month. All year if you were being honest.
Writing advice under the pen name Gabby for your local paper likely wasn’t anyone’s first choice of job, not at least for those serious about writing as yourself was.
But between flipping burgers down at Benny’s and slinging shakes at Rita’s Diner, it seemed the lesser of all evils. And hey, it paid decently enough and you had a sweet little set-up in one of the drowsy corners of the office.
It’s how you wind up here, scanning over the letter from one mysterious S.
It’s penned on some spare paper, nothing special. It wasn’t even lined paper like you might usually use for sending a letter of any sorts. It intrigued you the moment it had been dropped into your basket.
Hands flipping through the 4 other letters in there, rows of soft pink and blue envelopes, all with familiar handwriting, you determined that this one was, indeed, a new writer.
You practically devoured it from the first line. Gossip was rampant in Hawkins, like all small towns, but it was not so often shared so publicly with the paper, despite the anonymity that came with the advice column.
Most people in Hawkins seemed to come for advice on outshining their neighbours with a peach cobbler. Some asked whether jazzercise really was the go. There were very few sad tales of love in between the mush.
But this? Even just from the use of the word crush, you knew this wasn’t the average housewife talking midlife marital issues. This was someone your age.
It’s just a little bit funny, you admit — you, yourself, couldn’t imagine ever turning to the local paper to seek out love-life advice. Especially considering none of your previous replies as Gabby implied you had expertise in that area.
You decided it meant they were truly desperate or perhaps completely a hopeless romantic, or a bit of both.
But you couldn’t lie, either way, it’s entirely endearing to you.
It didn’t matter that it was probably someone who had no ‘game’, it was entirely completely made up by the fact they were clearly trying very hard, very genuinely.
They cared enough about getting things right. Whoever they were wooing was very lucky— re-reading over the short letter shoots a grimy wave of envy through your chest. When was the last time someone cared that much about a first date with you? About any date with you? The answer was… probably, never.
It didn’t help either that you had just landed yourself a date. A date with Steve Harrington.
For just a moment, a very brief moment, you look down at the signed S and wonder: would he?
No, he wouldn’t, you decide swiftly. The fragile hope that briefly hung up on the idea is shaken off as you recall his charismatic nature, his easy grin when he asked you out just the other week.
There had been a bit of nervousness, sure, but when you consider the dating history he’d had through high school, well… You feel embarrassed for even considering it.
King Steve Harrington doesn’t need help with his dates.
Besides, the letter clearly states this was S’s long-time crush. You were fairly certain that if the school’s golden boy harboured any sort of feelings for you, it wouldn’t have slipped past your radar.
Last time you checked, Steve had only noticed you when you had gone into Family Video the other week — when he had promptly asked if you wanted to see a movie together sometime.
Sure, it hadn’t been nearly as smooth as you expected, though, that wasn’t to say you weren’t charmed. You’d heard a lot about Steve— though, who at Hawkins High hadn’t?
He had been that customer-service type of welcoming, hands braced against the countertop as he leaned into it, a handsome smile on his face.
You had pretended your stare didn’t linger on his arms. Or that you were drinking in all the subtle changes to himself, physically and more, since his primped-up freshmen-self.
You had even admitted to yourself that he managed to pull off the dweeby Family Video vest, trailing behind him as he led you both to the action-film section.
Steve had stood close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from him, and had helped debate your choice. He didn’t even comment when you got distracted looking at his arms when he crossed them, even though he smiled a little more smugly, having seen your wandering eyes.
Like it was your fault he had gorgeous, tanned, toned arms that made you want to drool.
But even with all his suaveness, Steve still looked surprised when you laughed at his joke, or his attempt at one — and then some of his coolness seemed to flee.
He had fumbled through the whole interaction of checking out your film and asked if you’d like to ‘maybe if you want, totally cool if not’, wanted to watch one with him sometime.
You think you’d say yes all over again just to see the way he had lit up. He positively beamed, then swiftly ducked his head to hide his hasty grin.
Saturday at 8, you’d agreed on. At the Hawk. He’d pay for the tickets and you’d shout the snacks. It’s a date, were his exact words. He had looked extra delighted when you had repeated them back to him with a nervous grin of your own.
It’s what you think of as you peer down at the letter in your hands, loopy scrawls telling a plea in love. You think about what you hope you’ll get on a first date — with Steve or anyone, for that matter — and pull up a new sheet to draft a response.
It’s about the only advice you can give. Truthfully, dates fail for a multitude of reasons that change on a day-to-day basis and if this S just didn’t match with their date, well… that was out of your hands.
But if S liked them this much, enough to reach out to the murky depths of the local paper’s advice column, then they should show that. If nothing else, you’re sure their date would be flattered at their sincerity.
Try as you might not, the letter plagues your mind as you leave work. Your response sits on your desk, penned up and ready to be printed for the Friday morning paper, hopefully giving enough time to your advice-seeking S.
By Saturday, however, it’s the last thing on your mind — it’s hard for anything else to occupy it when it bubbles away blissfully at the thought of your date later in the evening.
You try to not let your thoughts carry away with what Steve might wear, what film you’d watch, whether you’d be able to sneakily hold his hand in the shadows of the cinema.
It plays a romantic pink-saturated loop in your brain, daydreaming of some silly kiss in the back row because Steve just can’t resist, he’s had a crush on you for so long— okay, maybe the letter was on your mind just a little.
But 8 o’clock whirls around faster than you expect and you arrive outside the cinema with only a couple minutes to spare. You’re more than relieved to see Steve already there, leaning up against the brick wall where the upcoming movies are showcased, bathed in soft golden light.
He’s got on a pair of dark wash jeans and the polo he’s wearing stretches around his arms deliciously, forcing a giddy sigh from your lips.
There’s a jacket slung over his crossed arms and one of his feet is tapping rapidly against the ground. Even from afar, you can see him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart spurs faster at the sight. He’s nervous.
“Steve!” You call out, unable to help how you’re already smiling like a lovesick fool. It doesn’t help when Steve’s head pops up, his hair bouncing just a bit. He lights up at the sight of you, features moving from worry to something happier.
He straightens up, back scraping the bricks, and he steps forward to meet you in the middle.
“Hey,” he breathes, a grin stretching over his lips. This close, you can smell the cologne he’s wearing— something musky, with a hint of bergamot — and your head spins, all dizzy with delight.
“Hey, yourself.” You reply as playfully as you can manage. You swallow back another wave of nerves.
Fuck, was he this pretty when he asked you out? In the space of a couple of days, he seems to have gotten even more attractive. He’s got that entire look about him that reminds you of a daydream.
“You look, uh, really lovely tonight.” Steve compliments, tucking his hands into his front pockets nervously. He sounds so sincere it aches, the words worming under your skin til you believe them completely; he really does think you look lovely.
It’s a strange moment of consideration you find yourself having. You’re here, on a date with Steve Harrington and he thinks you look really lovely.
It’s not like you hadn’t heard the rumours about the cosmic shift in the King of Hawkins High — going from sneering at other kids in the hallways to cleaning off graffiti on his own accord.
Yet, some small part of you is still delightfully surprised, as though it had been unconvinced until you had seen it for yourself. In the past, a part of you had been truly miffed at the waste of a pretty face on a douchebag like King Steve.
Now, it’s like an entirely different person. When Steve offers you another smile, earnest and sweet, you’re secretly glad to get to be the one who takes a chance on him.
You come to a standstill at the back of the winding line outside the ticket booth, the pair of you lingering closer than needed. The brush of his shoulder against your own feels blazing, a streak of warmth. You hope he can’t feel your resounding shiver— and half-hope that he does and gets closer because of it.
“That— uh, thank you,” you manage to remember your words. Even better, you manage to accept the compliment semi-regularly, even though your insides are knitting themselves into a tangle of nervous anticipation.
“You too. Look nice!” You say, louder than you intend. The girl ahead of you peers over her shoulder and somehow even that’s not enough to keep your mouth from running. “I mean, you sort of always look good. That’s kinda—” you wave your hand over him generally, “—your thing. Looking… nice.”
Dear god stop, you will yourself, mouth snapping shut and eyes following quickly, screwed up in embarrassment. Way to completely disregard the advice you gave a stranger and pile on the appearance-based compliments.
You do your best to hide your wince as you peek your eyes back open. It’s a relief to see Steve chuckle good-naturedly, a delicate pink touching the apples of his cheeks.
“You know,” Steve begins as the line ambles forward slowly. His gaze switches between the ground and you, too nervous to commit to looking you straight on. “I didn’t just ask you out because you’re pretty.”
He pauses. Rethinks his words and makes a hasty correction. “I do! Think that you’re pretty, that is.”
His quick assurance makes you laugh just a bit and you hide it behind a bitten-back smile. Steve stops examining his shoes for a moment, glancing to check you haven’t taken his words the wrong way.
Your heart feels like it does a forward roll in your chest, seeing his even pinker cheeks. God, in what world do you make Steve Harrington so nervous?
“I just—” Steve continues, shoulders hiking up a bit, another nervous motion. “I don’t want you to think that that’s the only reason, I asked. I like that you’re nice. You’ve always been nice.”
You blink at him. In a moment of clarity, a couple of revelations roll through your mind, each one steamrolling the last one before you can grapple each one properly.
Revelation No. 1. is the fact that Steve had noticed you. Past tense. Noticed you enough to think you’re nice and bookmark that in his brain. He remembers things about you. And then— then he had made a special effort to compliment you. Specifically outside of your appearance.
And hadn’t you just given specific advice like that? You had! You had given advice to an anonymous person known only as S, with instructions for their first date. Their first date with their long-time crush.
Which means... you’re Steve Harrington’s long-term crush. Which means, oh my god, Steve Harrington accidentally wrote into your job to ask you for advice on his date with you.
The result of the revelations, each one blooming quickly as the one before it, leaves you entirely speechless for a moment. Baffled. You gape like a fish, mouth flapping around empty words. You can’t quite compute it. Steve? Steve is the one who wrote to the local paper for advice? Steve Harrington wrote in for advice about a date with you? His long-term crush?
You’re thankful Steve’s nervous enough to not look at you because, for a silent 10 seconds, you’re sure every emotion from ecstatic and bewildered crosses your features. What in the actual hell?
You’re not sure how you expect yourself to continue this date and act like a regular person, knowing what you know.
And, more importantly, should you tell Steve?
You get about 10 more seconds of floundering to debate it, tossing up a thousand different ways this entire evening could change if you reveal yourself.
Steve would be embarrassed. Steve would be angry. Steve wouldn’t believe you and just think you’re messing with him. Steve didn’t even write the letter and you’ve connected dots that don’t even exist.
You can’t pinpoint which one is the truth. You truthfully don’t know Steve well enough to predict how he might react, no matter how sweet he may have been. A realisation of how quiet you’ve been rolls through you when Steve’s head pulls up, concern knitting his brows together.
Something else altogether comes out of your mouth instead.
“You noticed me?”
Steve goes even more red. It’s a glorious sight and in an instant, you can tell he hasn’t meant to give that much away. The line shuffles forward and Steve seems thankful for it, clearing his throat and eyeing the ticket box ahead like he was wishing you were both there already. There’s only one more couple ahead of you.
“Is that weird?” He says after a moment, his voice a bit smaller than before.
“What?” You say, because it’s the last thing you’re expecting him to say. “No! I’m sorry I didn’t— that wasn’t an accusation!”
You mull over your thoughts, trying your best to put into words how it had actually made you feel. How it had soaked your inside with giddiness, not with worry.
“It’s... really sweet, actually.” You admit, feeling bold enough to nudge your shoulder against his.
“Yeah?” Steve asks, the question said so earnestly it’s like he’s not quite sure he believes you.
“I mean,” You smile, sneaking a nervous glance sideways at him. He’s watching you, expression hinting at anticipation. You nod, continuing, “I’m glad you didn’t just ask me out because you think I’m pretty.”
The last word comes out a bit strained. It feels strange to admit it out loud even with the way Steve looks at you; little glitters of adoration in his eyes.
“It’s-” You clear your throat and bite back a smile that might be too eager. “It’s nice to be noticed.”
Steve makes a small sound of content, like some sort of pleased hum. Then the couple ahead of you is moving and it’s your turn to step up for tickets.
You hurry through tickets and snacks, getting a packet of Reese's Pieces, some popcorn, and one huge cup of soda with two neon-coloured straws sticking out. When you duck through the velvet curtains at the theatre doors, arm already looped through Steve’s, it feels like you’re entering not as two people but as something closer.
The evening whirls by in a lavender haze and Steve is nothing short of everything sweet and charming. Even with his nerves tripping him up now and then, it’s all endearing to you.
You two are the last ones out of the cinema, ushered out by bored employees whose glaring only deepened when they realised you and Steve had conducted a popcorn throwing competition between yourselves. You had been left in the dust, with Steve catching near every piece you threw at him. You were less gracious, salt smearing on your cheeks from so many missed throws.
By the time you’re both back out the front, the night has found a chill to drape across the evening. The sky glitters darkly. The bulbs surrounding the front of the cinema glow and crackle quietly and you’re pleasantly delighted to find you don’t want to leave just yet.
“Hey,” Steve starts. He’s stuffed his hands in his pockets but you can see them twisting about nervously. “Yanno, I had a really good time tonight.”
You can see the moment he bites his tongue and holds back another sentence. You smile as encouragingly as you can — though something about how well the night has gone has your courage growing, doubling, tripling in size.
“Me too.” You admit. You ignore how your palms start to dampen just a titch and seize the words before your nerve fails you. “Did you— do you want to do it again, maybe?”
Steve nods, a stray strand of his hair escaping with the enthusiasm of the motion. He chuckles a bit, pushes it back, and steps closer. “Yes. I mean, yes, of course. You’re... this was so lovely.”
There’s a stir ecstatically in your chest in his words, which drip in sincerity.
“Thank you,” you murmur, head ducked in shyness. It’s still strange, for someone to be so forward in their affections to you. “Um, should I- I could give you my number?”
Steve nods again, just as fervently as last time. He’s somehow gotten closer in just the few minutes you’ve been speaking like there’s a magnetism within you that he can’t resist.
“Yeah, totally! Did you — I don’t have a pen, I’m sorry,” He chuckles again. His hand scratches at the back of his neck.
You’re thankful for your insane preparedness, digging through your bag to produce a pen. By the time you pop the cap off it, a green marker, Steve’s already rolled back his sleeve. He holds out his arm.
“Your canvas awaits,” He jokes. Your smile grows into a grin, almost ashamed of how funny you found that. God, crushes made you stupid — though thankfully Steve seems to grin wider at hearing your laugh.
You curl your fingers around his wrist to hold his arm still. He’s warm, hot blood pumping beneath your touch. You try not to focus on how you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, nor how it’s racing far faster than normal. After your number, you hesitate for a moment before adding a quick doodle of a heart. It’s sloppy, not exactly your best work.
Steve loves it. The moment you release his arm, he thumbs over the heart. Steve looks up at you, an infectious type of smile on his face now. “I’ll give you a call, yeah?”
You nod, tucking your hands in your pocket. You’re unable to stop yourself from rocking up onto the balls of your feet in your excitement.
“Uh, you should probably call after 9 unless you want to meet my mom already.”
Steve huffs a laugh. “Got it. After 9. No meeting mom just yet.” He promises.
This time, reading the letter feels like there’s sparking gunpowder littered in your very heart — lighting it up in a frenzy of fire in your chest as you read. It’s impossible to do anything except inhale each new word. You felt a little bad, sure, reading a review of your own date but then again, it was your job.
Besides, you’d tell Steve. When... Well, alright, you weren’t totally sure when you were going to tell him.
Definitely not before the next date. It was still fragile — and some part knew that if you told him, there was a good chance Steve would be too embarrassed. Would work himself up over it and it would ruin everything.
It was like... a souffle. You had to take it out of the oven at the right time; too soon, and everything would sink in on itself.
So, you decided to wait it out. Dish out some more advice and... see how the next date went.
You write back, There isn’t such a thing as giving too much away. This girl will be flattered to know you care as much as you do. Take her somewhere special to you.
It’s just enough of a nudge you think. ‘Somewhere special’ was a wide-open prompt that Steve could interpret as he liked. He could pick just how intimate the next date would be. You promise to yourself quietly, that if you get a third date, you’ll tell him then.
Steve calls you the night after your responding advice is published in The Hawkins Post. 10 minutes past 9pm. He tells you, voice low and sweet, that he’s got a surprise spot in mind.
“If you’re up for that,” Steve hastily tacks on. “We don’t have to. I’m- we can go out for dinner if you’d prefer that. I totally love dinner.”
Faintly through the phone, you hear the quiet noise, like a thud. You have to smother down a giggle as you realise Steve’s smacked himself with the phone in his own exasperation.
“I’m up for a surprise,” You assure him, clutching the phone a bit tighter in your excitement. “That sounds fun.”
“Fun,” Steve echoes, with a tone of disbelief. Like he hadn’t believed you’d agree until, well, you had. “Yes! It’ll be fun. So much. I hope so. When are you free?”
His words come out so quickly. You can’t hide your laugh this time, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to try to dissuade the giddy grin threatening your lips. No dice. Nothing can stop your elation.
“What kind of surprise are we talking about?” You ask first, thinking over your next words, wondering if you’re brave enough to say them. You take the leap. “Because, well, I know it’s a Tuesday but I’m free tomorrow night and—“
“Yes.” Steve cuts in eagerly. “Tomorrow night, let’s do it. I can pick you up?”
“Okay,” you agree, nodding even though he can’t see it. You don’t think your grin can’t get any wider, barely contained enough to relay your address for him to jot down.
Tuesday evening is soft, the sky a pale blue that washes warmth over the day. Steve picks you up on time. He’s handsome as ever, leaning up against the driver's side door as he waits for you.
Your heart does a little skip when he straightens up upon spotting you, perking up like he had at the cinema. It reminds you faintly of a dog wagging its tail; his happiness at seeing you so visible to see.
“Did you get prettier since the last time I saw you?” He says, in lieu of greeting as you trot down to meet him. You feel heat bloom beneath your cheeks.
“I-” Your nerves creep up and honesty takes over your words. “I don’t know how to answer that.” You titter out a laugh, a smile tugging at your mouth.
Steve hums as you come to a stop before him. He pretends to give you a serious once over, his eyes light and smile easy. His gaze comes back up to rest on your face before he nods firmly.
“Mmhm, it’s just as I expected.” He reports back, soft and genuine. “Prettier in every way.”
You laugh again, nervousness bleeding into the sound but his words sink into your skin warmly. Fingers twisting into your sweater, you try to rein in your rabbiting heart.
“You’re a goof, anyone ever tell you?”
Steve grins. “Never said I wasn’t. Now, your chariot awaits.”
He sweeps an arm to the car behind him.
He’s right, it is a surprise. You’re not entirely sure where you’d been anticipating — maybe his favourite spot to eat? But instead, he takes you to a clearing, with blankets of grass and wildflowers dotted across the landscape.
For a moment, when you creep out from his car, hands still clutching the edge of the door, you wonder if this is how he found Skull Rock and the likes — that maybe Steve Harrington was an explorer by nature. You think back to your advice and wonder; what makes this place special to him?
Your heart twists, knowing that he’s taken your advice, even if some part of you tears up in guilt. You will tell him. You take solace in knowing there’s not much to be guilty of; telling him the best way to woo you is hardly terrible manipulation.
Sure, it’s swindling but... of the sweetest kind. You lead him to your heart and in return, get to steal his own.
Steve’s brought along a blanket and picnic for the two of you. There are crudely cut sandwiches, though you don’t doubt he’s tried his best, paired with punnets of ripe fat strawberries. It’s... adorable. Dizzily endearing, how much effort he’s put in for you.
Your heart aches a little more at his pink cheeks as he unpacks all this for you like he’s worried what you’ll think. He is worried about what you’ll think, you realise. Despite all you’ve heard and known about King Steve, your mind winds up thinking back to his letter... I don’t want her to get freaked out if I come on too strong.
A fire of determination burns in your chest. Loving loudly would never be— could never be something to hide. Nor to feel embarrassed over, not with you at least.
So, you start by trying to feed him a strawberry, like a thousand romance novels have taught you. Instead of a cute gesture, you smush it into his cheek instead by accident as he turns his face suddenly. An apology squeaks out of you.
“I’m— oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You’re wiping the red juice splattered on his cheek, your own cheeks feeling fiery and hot. Steve takes your endless apologies well, assuring away the beginnings of your mortification.
He only manages to truly stop your flow of embarrassed apologies by squishing a sandwich against your cheek as well, just to make it fair — a peel of your laughter fills the field, some of your nervousness floating away with it.
Then, just as you had, Steve wipes off the smear of cream cheese on your chin with his thumb, the motion soft and gentle. Your nerves jump around again.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, finally asking the question that’s been burning since you arrived. “Because I’m loving this date but… Why did you pick this spot?”
You’re careful to word your question in a way that doesn’t give away what else you know. Beside you, Steve takes a moment to think. His eyes scan over your face before he tilts it back to face the clearing, his arms resting on his propped up knees.
He’s just a boy. A pretty boy on a picnic rug he brought along to your date, in a field of flowers that he took you to. You have the thought to compare him to a painting in this moment right as Steve starts to speak.
“I came up here a whole lot after,” Steve heaves a loud sigh like he’s regretful for what he’s about to bring up. “After me and Nancy broke up. It was good to get out of town and just, like, have my own time to think. To think about what I really wanted.”
You dare to ask. “And did you figure it out? What you really wanted?”
Steve glances over at you and smiles crookedly. It’s one of his real smiles, you’ve come to realise. “To not get my heart broken again, for starters. That just— that shit sucked, you know?”
He laughs a little bitterly, more to himself, and steals another glance at you, like his words are a test and he’ll find an answer in your expression. You smile gently, hoping to convey every softness that you have for him. Every good intent.
“Well, m’not looking to do that.” You admit truthfully. “Maybe, I’ll… I’ll ease the ache?”
Steve seems to soften at your words, relaxing. His shoulders drop an inch. “I hope so.”
“And maybe, I want a little bit of loverboy Steve Harrington for myself too.” You say, your smile turning more coy. It’s true that loverboy was one of the nicknames for Steve tossed around Hawkins High halls but it hadn’t really stuck the same way The Hair or King Steve had. Except for, well, secretly with you.
“Loverboy?”
“That’s what they call you!”
“And who are they?” Steve asks, some of his signature charm creeping back in. He smirks at you, leaning in closer and your breath hitches nervously. You grin despite it.
“People!”
“Uh huh…”
Time flows easily around the two of you, weaving like the softest cocoon. As the sunset blossoms, the grassy clearing becomes breathtaking. The moment the sun dips below the horizon, dimming the sky and encouraging out the stars, you suddenly know why this is Steve’s special spot.
He stretches out on his back, eyes to the sky. You copy him. Two little bodies cocooned in the sweet grass, wrapped in the night-time.
“This might seem strange,” Steve starts. His brows are bunched together, thinking hard, but his expression lightens as he turns his face to you. “But... Thank you for coming out here with me. For trusting me.”
A beat of quiet. A wind ruffles over the clearing, a soft whistle in the night. Steve swallows nervously. “Was it a good surprise?”
His question is so earnest it aches. It’s so obvious that he just wants to do this right and well for you.
You know now that even without your advice through the paper, Steve would have charmed you all the same. That you might’ve taken another route and it might’ve taken another couple of dates before you got here, sharing secret spots— but that you’d end up here, with him, regardless.
“It was,” you tell him truthfully, chest glittering with happiness. You smile at him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “Thank you for showing me.”
Steve grins. He turns back to face the sky, eyes cinching shut for a moment. Breathes in the moment. You admire the dimple of his smile. His pretty mouth. His eyes peek back open as turns back to you, voice dropped down into a whisper, “You’re welcome.”
It feels like a little more than you’re welcome — like maybe, he’s thanking you too. You’re really thanking yourself too, for wandering into Family Video when you had, for saying yes to Steve, for giving yourself this chance with him.
Moonlight shadows across his face, strong brows and sloped nose even more defined in the dark. You stare, eyes dragging from mole to mole, avoiding his intense brown eyes that threaten to make everything in your chest melt pathetically.
Shit, is he going to kiss you? Your stomach jumps with a spike of pure want and you move forward— right as Steve sits up. Embarrassment flushes down your spine and you recoil back, sitting up quickly as Steve had but not quick enough.
“Wait,” Steve says suddenly, twisting to glance at where you’d both been lying just a moment. In your panic, you don’t hear the eagerness in his voice. “Were you gonna—?”
Somehow, it seems more embarrassing to admit it aloud. That you might have been ballsy enough to kiss Steve first. You shake your head without thinking about it, arms coming to curl around your knees. Fuck, you wish you had read that moment right.
“Uh,” You spit out stupidly. “No, no, it was just…” you clear your throat. The awkwardness of the moment is nearly painful.
“I mean, yes,” you correct yourself quietly, clearing your throat again. You don’t want Steve to think you don’t want to kiss him. “I was, but—“
“You were?” Steve sounds close to devastation. His expression has crumpled a bit, regret rippling off him in waves. Your stomach turns.
“It’s okay!” You assure him hurriedly. “It’s— you know, the moments gone but there’s always… next time, right?” Your voice comes out a bit tight.
Steve seems a tad bit relieved at your words, shoulders deflating an inch or so. He nods along, even though you can still see the tinge of embarrassment on his face — it’s adorable, that he’s the one feeling embarrassed like it wasn’t you who made a move at the wrong time.
“Yeah,” Steve hasn’t stopped nodding, even as his gaze has travelled off you, staring down at his hands. The furrow in his brow hasn’t eased up, still drawn together in the middle, even as he agrees, “Yeah, next time. Uh, totally.”
Then, his head jerks up in your direction. “I’m sorry, by the way, I didn’t mea—“
You wave him off, a nervous chuckle coming out. You sort of want to bury your missed kiss along with all your humiliation but with every other word but Steve keeps kicking off the dirt. “Seriously, it’s fine, Steve. Really.”
His nod isn’t all that convincing to say he believes you.
Regret festers deep in your gut when the evening seems to derail from that point on. Try as you might, you can tell Steve is stuck in his own head; no doubt hounding himself for the strange rebuff he’d given you.
It would be endearing, that he’s so twisted up inside over it, if it didn’t seep awkwardness into the remainder of your date. You wish you hadn’t tried to kiss him.
The car ride to drop you home is absent of the sweet conversation you’d had when he’d picked you up. Words lull, just an oddly tense air between you two. You’re not sure how to fix this.
When Steve pulls up to the curb, the engine idling with a low rumble, you don’t open the door, not yet. Instead, you turn to Steve.
He’s already waiting, already looking over at you, a hint of worry in his expression — though, it’s gone in a flash.
Steve peels his white-knuckled grip off the steering wheel, pressing his hands into his thighs nervously. He gives a strange sort of chuckle and exhales.
“Right,” He starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know that— well, obviously, that wasn’t how I’d hoped that would go at the end and—”
He pauses, eyes scrunching shut with a groan as he tries to collect his words. The next sentence looks like it takes effort to grind out. “I would understand, is all, if you decided you didn’t want to go out again—”
“I do.”
“—because that was, well- wait, what?”
Steve forces his eyes open and doesn’t even try to hide his astonishment. Your heart throbs achingly at his obvious surprise.
“I do want to go out again.” You nod along with your words. Being so sincere makes you feel a bit naked, forcing your vulnerability out into the open so that you don’t let him spiral. But you’d rather deal with that discomfort that let Steve get the wrong idea.
“Yeah?” Steve breathes. He seems to remember himself, picking his hands off his lap and draping them over the steering wheel. They tap at it lightly. Still nervous. “I’ll— I’ll call you?”
You nod again. For a brief moment, you think of how dates are supposed to end with kisses, or so you’re told. Your eyes dip down to his lips.
You want to. Even just pressing a peck to his cheek might satisfy your churning, growing urge to kiss him — but you certainly don’t have enough courage scraped together after his accidental rebuff.
A little part of you whispers meanly that it may not have been so accidental.
“After 9pm, remember?” You hear yourself say with a smile. Opening the door, you step out onto the sidewalk and close it gently behind you.
Then you deliver Steve one more smile, one more look back, because that’s the bravest you can be at the moment.
He doesn’t call the next night.
Or the night after.
You’re certainly not expecting another letter from Steve, especially considering how your phone has sat idle and quiet in its cradle since your date on Tuesday. Ringing, but not for you.
But come Friday morning— there is it.
Another letter, scribbled in handwriting you’re coming to recognise. Your heart stammers through the next couple beats as you realise what it is, who has sent it.
This time, you nearly consider not reading it. For him and for you, you consider letting it get lost in the piles of paper, never seen, never read. But burning curiosity wins, coddled by your bruised ego.
This letter is messier and more hurried than its predecessors, letters looping together all slanted.
And…oh.
A small worry in you settles. Changes and transforms into something warmer as you realise he hasn’t called you because he’s waiting for advice first. Waiting, unknowingly, for you to answer him.
You genuinely think the space where your heart is supposed to be is empty — that the organ has melted down like gooey candle wax, dripping down your ribcage in burning hot affection. Your chest aches in the best way.
You’d never understood films where girls lie on their beds and kick their feet up, doodling hearts on paper. The urge is suddenly quite overwhelming. Christ. Steve really likes you.
He hadn’t called you back because— because part of him thinks you wouldn’t want him too. That one missed kiss would be the dealbreaker, even after those lovely dates.
You want to scoff, to laugh, to track down Steve and grip him by the shoulders and say, ‘I think you’re stuck with me if you’ll have me!’
You settle for pulling out a fresh sheet to draft your response.
It’s a bit of a gamble, considering the part about the stars is complete codswallop. The newspaper doesn’t even technically have an astrologist; the horoscopes are auto-generated every week. You’re praying Steve won’t know that.
The paper goes to print on Friday evening, for the early weekend morning the day after. Saturday morning, there’s a call of your name downstairs and you’re halfway down the stairs when you pause at the sight of your mom on the phone.
“Someone on the phone for you,” She comments, the smallest raise of her eyebrows. You ignore the way that makes you hot inside, rushing down the end of the stairs to rescue who you hope is Steve on the other end of the phone. Your mom skirts away but not without one more meaningful glance back at you.
You turn and face the other way, giving away nothing. You’re sure you sound a bit breathless as you speak into the receiver, “Hello?”
A crackle on the other end.
“Hi.” A voice says nervously. There’s a moment’s pause. “It’s Steve.”
You fight off a combination of responses; a girlish squeal and a hefty sigh of relief. He called. The cord of the phone loops around your fingers automatically.
“Hey,” You say, aiming for casual. You’re not sure if it comes out that way.
A small part of you doesn’t mind if he hears your poorly tamped down excitement — an even smaller part wants him to. There’s something different about this call, knowing what you know.
“I’m real sorry it took so long to call,” Steve says, voice genuine. He clearly feels the need to explain his silence. You suppose if you hadn’t received his letter, you might still be feeling a bit confused and bummed out. “I— I’ll tell you all about why tomorrow? If you’re free?”
It’s sickeningly sweet that he still sounds so nervous.
“Of course,” you say. “It’s—” It crosses your mind to tell him, here and now, to explain that you knew exactly why he took so long to call you. You fumble and something else comes out instead. “I’m- I’m glad you called, Steve.”
“Me too.”
Your cheeks ache a bit with the force of your grin. The cord of the phone loops over your finger again and again as you sink against the wall, clutching the phone tighter and pull yourself together,
“So, what’s the plan?”
“You, me, maybe head over to Indianapolis and try out the new golfing game they just set up over there? That sound… good to you?”
It sounds very good to you.
“I can’t say I’ve ever played golf.” You admit.
A little worry piques up about making a fool of yourself, then settles quickly. Steve wouldn’t make fun of you. If you sucked, you’re actually sure he’d find some way to spin it all romantic style.
“I’ll teach you.”
“You’ve played?”
“Never,” You can hear Steve’s smile through the phone. “But can’t be that hard right?”
—
There’s a lot of thought that goes into what to wear, evident in the holes you must be wearing in your carpet from pacing across it. Restless energy drives you, some labyrinth of nerves and anticipation knotted in your gut.
Spread out before you on the bed lies everything you own in the colour yellow.
If she wears yellow, it’s your sign. Make your move.
Your own words— well, Gabby’s words, delivered to Steve via the Hawkins Post on how to know if he’s earned your heart like you know he so desperately wants to. You want to show him he has — in a way that seems like a goddamn sign from the universe.
The skirt is one of your nicer ones.
Along the waistline, embroidered flowers are stitched into the fabric and it swishes in just the way you love. Best of all is the dreamy buttery colour, like the colour that bleeds through at the beginning of a sunset, when the sky starts to change at dusk. It’s yellow as yellow comes — for good reason.
You want him to see you and know.
For the sign to be so unanimously yes that he doesn’t have any space for the same doubts that tornadoed up in his head after your last date.
The type of giddiness that can only be spurred on by crushes and love alike spins up inside you, like sugar catching in a wheel and turning to cotton candy. You’re so sweet on him it’s making you feel gaga.
You’re also terrified — because you have to tell him now. Inklings of anxiety settle in your chest, leaving little notches in your ribs that twinge a little bit. You really don’t want Steve to leave your life, not now that he’s just come into it.
A little part of you regrets not telling him on the first date, when all your revelations rolled into one big Oh My God! outside of the Hawk cinema.
You hadn’t told him though, so you need to tell him now. And then again, if you’re asking Steve to trust in the stars then… maybe, so should you.
The afternoon sun lights through the glass of your front door and coats the entrance hall in gold. Steve, as always, is on time. You’re barely down the stairs, the clock chiming at 1 o’clock, when a familiar toot! sounds from out front. Your fingers stress with the fabric of your skirt, smoothing it down for the nth time.
Here goes… everything.
You open the door to step you and you startle in surprise to find there’s already someone on the doorstep.
The door snicks shut behind you, bumping your forward an inch, and the warmth of the afternoon sweeps across your skin.
Steve’s staring downwards, one hand adjusting his ringer t-shirt nervously and the other holding together a fresh bouquet of flowers- sunflowers.
He got you sunflowers.
Yellow, yellow, yellow. There seems to be a theme to your love.
His head shoots up at the sound of your entrance, his eyes snagging on your sunny-coloured skirt which shifts in the wind. You swear you can hear his breath hitch as he takes in the colour, a smile blooming wide across his face.
Remembering his manners, Steve clears his throat and tears his eyes off your skirt but it’s too late — the buttery yellow has done its job and he knows.
His grin has turned brazen and wild. Confidence rolls his shoulder back a bit and his chest puffs out. He looks so handsome it makes you hopelessly nervous.
“These are…” Steve holds the flowers out but his words trail off. His eyes back on the ground as he thinks, hard, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.
In a second, he seems to come to a decision because he’s stepping closer to you, so close that if you both leaned in a couple more inches, your nose would brush his chin. He holds the sunflowers purposefully out the way, mindful of crushing them.
He smells very nice, you realise. The scent of his cologne inspires a flustering reaction; you’re sure there must be cartoon hearts swimming above your head. You reign in your thoughts before they get away from you.
“Look, I messed up our last kiss and honestly, until recently I didn’t even know that was something I was even capable of doing.” Steve huffs a laugh, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.
His eyes screw shut for just a moment, gathering his thoughts, or perhaps his courage. Maybe both.
“But, I am. I’m- I feel like a fool around you and I miss these little cues because I’m trying to think of the right thing to say or— or because I can’t stop looking at you. And it’s because I like you. I really like you.”
He inhales a shuddering breath. The sun beams make his eyes two shades lighter.
“I’ve been confused and lost in love once before and it means that some days I’m not even sure what that feeling even is, what I’m looking for, but… I think it may feel a lot like you.”
There is it, presented forward to you. His heart on his sleeve, bleeding for you.
His affections are so transparent it makes you ache for him more. Sunlight seems to fill your chest, burning in its ardor and the tenderness soon follows.
You feel the fondness you have for him, just a seedling of new love, taking root deep in your heart. A part of you suspects it may have snuck in there far earlier, nestling in sometime between your longing glancing and shared smiles.
“And now, I really, really want to kiss you.” Steve says, the words so earnest they scrape on the way up his throat.
His brown eyes are searching your face as his free hand rises, hesitating for only a moment before it finds a home curled along your jaw. “And get a chance to get it right this time.”
“Steve,” you whisper. His name makes your mouth tender like no other word can. “Kiss me.”
His fingers slide along your jaw and touch the edges of your hair as he inches nearer and your heart lurches up your throat in anticipation. His lips are quivering ever so slightly, you notice.
And then his lips are on yours.
He kisses your mouth with all the adoration of a familiar long-time lover, deep and longing. Pushing up on your toes, your hands grasp at his shirt, the fabric twisting between your fingers as you pull him closer. It’s… lovely.
Your heart aches and soars, beating as one with him as his kiss sets a fire aflame within you. You are officially and utterly enraptured by Steve Harrington and all he is, but especially his kisses. You already miss the last of his lips when Steve breaks the kiss.
He doesn’t move back, staying close, and the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He’s sporting a grin that rivals the day in sunshine.
“You wore yellow,” He says, voice doused in awe.
Oh. That’s right. His words are a swift kick to reality. You pull back just a bit, hands flattening out on his chest, just so you can see his face properly because you know if you’re too close, you might fall victim to his brown eyes.
“About that…”
Steve blinks and takes a second to realise that he must have spoken aloud. He chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in the noise, and rushes to explain. “That was— that must’ve sounded-”
“I’m Gabby.” You interrupt before he can get carried away.
Steve frowns, confusion creasing between his brows. “What? I thought your name was—”
“No!” You jump in again, biting down your smile at his adorable misunderstanding. “I-I mean I write as Gabby. From the Hawkins Post.”
Steve blinks at you again. His face blanches and then, it’s like watching fruit ripen, the apples of his cheek getting pinker and pinker with every passing second.
He splutters, a myriad of emotions overtaking his features; surprise, bewilderment, embarrassment. He jumps from one to the other in an instant.
“You- you’re— and you?”
There’s not really a proper sentence coming from Steve, just bucket loads of endearing and unneeded embarrassment radiating off him, so warm you can nearly feel it. Steve sputters for another second before he finally manages to spit out a sentence.
“The whole time?”
You have the decency to look sheepish when you nod. Steve steps back for a moment and you try to ignore the spike of fear it invokes in you — he buries his face in his hands, squishing the flowers against his hair, and releases a pitiful sounding groan into his palms. After a moment, he drags his hands down his face and peeks up at you.
“The whole time?” Steve asks again, in a meek whisper.
“I’m sorry!” You squeak out, guilt beginning to overflow. Oh god, you’ve deceived him and he hates you—
“No, no, no,” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, which then cards through his hair. He’s still looking a bit frazzled but his eyes finally focus back on you.
“It’s not— Oh, man, I can’t believe it was you. No wonder the advice worked so well! This is- this is a new kind of embarrassing—”
Steve groans again, though his smile is starting to return. “I can’t believe you still went out with me once you figured it out. God, I knew that writing in was a bit pathetic, it’s gotta be like a—” He holds his hand out flat, hovering at chest height. “Top ten loser move of all time and you still—.”
“No, it’s not!” You insist, stepping forward to close the gap between you. You shake your head, eager to convince him of how it had seemed from your side; a sweet love letter from someone who cared enough to try to get things right.
“It was sweet and honest. Before I even knew it was you, reading that first letter, I… I wanted it to be you.” You admit, a bit bashfully.
Steve takes a moment to look at you, eyes dancing down to look at your yellow skirt which swishes as another breeze passes by. Warm afternoon air cocooning around you, you look the picture of devastatingly pretty, dolled up for a date with him. You’ve seen this dorky and little bit pathetic side of him, with his desperate search for advice and missed kisses and yet… you’re still here.
“You did? You mean that? You don’t think it was… weird?”
You shake your head, a few strands of hair escaping from behind your ear. Steve thinks about tucking them back for you. He doesn’t feel brave enough yet.
“I mean that. I— it was crazy when I figured it out and I sort of thought it was just wishful thinking but, definitely not weird.”
You hold your hand up, fingers nearly pinched together with only a few centimetres between them. You squint, smile overtaking your lips before you can stop it. “Was just a little bit funny, though.”
Steve laughs, head tipping forward to hide his rosy cheeks. He peers back up at you through his lashes, a new twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t plan it!” You splutter out, defending yourself. “It was- it was just a freaky coincidence.”
“A freaky coincidence?” Steve’s brows hike up an inch. His smile turns into a smirk and he rocks up on the balls of his feet, then steps back in closer to you. “Mmhm. Totally believe you.”
“Doesn’t sound like you do.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me to trust in the stars? You should take your own advice, really.”
He leans in so close that you think he’s about to kiss you. He doesn’t— just hovers an inch from your lips.
“I’ve found it works astoundingly well.” He says, voice husky with how low it is.
You shiver a bit, delight zinging up your spine and try your best to not to smile too much because, well — as you find, it’s awfully hard to kiss someone properly when you’re cheesing out, grinning too wide.
Good thing, neither you or Steve seem to mind very much.
#dear god#i hope this doesn’t crash in burn#it’s been…. how many months since i posted an x reader fic#5 MONTHS!!!!#GOD IM SORRY#i had this idea…. november last year#took me so fucking long#anyways… if u liked nine facts…. maybe u like this?#except no enemies :(#ruby writes steve#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff
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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader
yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?
9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading
a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz
“I don't believe you.”—
The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.
—“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”—
The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.
His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.
An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.
The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.
“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”
He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.
You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”
“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”
It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”
“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”
“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”
“I read shit.”
“Who doesn't?”
“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.
Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”
He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.
You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”
“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”
“I dunno, but it’s you.”
He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”
Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.
Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.
“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”
“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”
“Well, yes!”
You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”
Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.
“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”
He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”
“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—
“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”
You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”
“You don't?”
“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”
“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.
“That's even worse!”
He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”
You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”
“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”
That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.
“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”
You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”
He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”
Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”
“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”
You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.
The buzz was getting better.
“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.
Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”
Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.
A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”
He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”
“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.
“Well, is it working?”
He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”
You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
“However you'd like them.”
You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”
He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”
“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.
“Okay, one, two, three—”
“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.
Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?
“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.
Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.
You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.
You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”
He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.
And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”
You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.
He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.
You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.
You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.
He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.
When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.
“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.
“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”
“Never in your life?”
“Never in my life.”
“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”
Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”
He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?
(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)
“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.
“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”
Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”
“Oh, was I?”
Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”
“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”
“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”
Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.
After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.
But how could he fucking forget your name?
He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.
“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.
“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.
Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.
When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”
Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?
“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”
“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”
Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.
You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.
“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.
Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”
You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.
Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.
“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.
“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”
“Dompt shae it.”
“Yeosaaaang!”
You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.
Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.
Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”
Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.
You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?
Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”
“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”
“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”
Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.
As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”
He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.
“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.
Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”
You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”
“She hooked up with Yeosang!”
You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”
Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”
“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”
“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”
“We did!” Reina chirped.
“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.
Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”
“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”
You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”
“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”
“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”
You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.
“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.
Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.
You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.
“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.
“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.
You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”
When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”
Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”
“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”
Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”
You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”
“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.
Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.
But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.
Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.
His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”
“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”
Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”
Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”
“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.
“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.
His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”
Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?
For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—
“Gotcha.”
Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.
“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.
His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.
It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.
Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.
Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—
He figured it out.
@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?
Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.
@/studioyn: sunny side up
Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”
“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.
Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.
@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!
@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh
@/yskang99: i like that better actually
@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao
Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.
@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨
For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.
@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk
@/yskang99: would that matter?
@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r
@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/
He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.
@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)
A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.
He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.
Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.
@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?
@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat
@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?
The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.
@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u
@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))
@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?
Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.
“Yn! We're gonna be late!”
You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.
Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”
You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.
The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.
As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.
“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.
“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.
You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.
“Right. He's your man.”
You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.
God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.
At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.
Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.
“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”
Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.
You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.
@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!
“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.
You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”
@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??
@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x
You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.
The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.
Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).
When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.
“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.
“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.
You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.
“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.
You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”
“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.
You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”
“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”
“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”
He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”
“Reina,” your friend replied.
“Yn,” you added on.
Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”
Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—
“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”
He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’
Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”
“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”
“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”
You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”
She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”
“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”
There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.
But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.
“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.
She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”
You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.
Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.
Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…
Oh.
Well, now you just felt stupid.
Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”
“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.
“You're thinking that you're stupid.”
“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”
Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”
“But that was Yura, right?”
She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”
“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.
“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”
You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”
“I'm not sure, hon.”
You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.
You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.
The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.
You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.
“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.
She held your spiked juice while you texted him.
As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.
If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.
Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.
On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—
You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.
“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”
“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?
Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?
“Where is he?” You asked.
It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.
You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.
Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.
“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.
“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”
Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”
It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.
He was waiting for you to finish.
You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”
You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”
He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”
“She…?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”
Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.
“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”
And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”
The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”
“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”
Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.
You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.
“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”
You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.
You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.
You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"
His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.
Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."
“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”
You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”
Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.
“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.
Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—
“You okay?” He mused.
You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.
A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”
“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.
You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.
In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.
You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.
“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.
You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.
You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”
He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.
“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.
“Mhm?”
You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”
Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”
You blinked, lips parting.
Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”
Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.
“I'm sure you don't.”
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...
atz m.list
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Drift Kings
You and your brother Seokjin live completely separate lives, until one day when your worlds collide.
Pairing: Jimin x f! reader, Yoongi x f! reader
Genre: Drifting, street racing AU, smut
Word count: 9.5k
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Explicit sex, swearing, mentions of drugs, cigarette smoking, illegal street racing
You know from the first time you lay eyes on Park Jimin that he doesn’t belong in your world.
He’s physically blessed, that much is obvious to anyone with eyes, but he’s all wrong.
His suit is beautifully tailored, but the material’s wrong. His shoes are expensive but in that modern, stylish way that screams new money.
You doubt any of the jewelry he has on is inherited.
He catches you staring, assumes it’s because of his good looks rather than that you’re finding him lacking.
He has the audacity to give you a once over of his own, like he has the right to judge you like you judged him.
You stay perfectly still, let him look.
You’re a Kim, and you’re used to people staring at you.
His lips curl in a smile that looks closer to a sneer.
‘You should wipe that sour look off your face, princess, before the wind changes.’
You’re too surprised to snap back at him, and a moment later, he turns away, like he’s the one dismissing you.
You’re still staring at his back when Seokjin, your brother, arrives with Yoongi.
‘Were you waiting long?’ Seokjin asks politely, gesturing for you to go ahead of him into the private room he’s reserved for dinner.
‘Not long,’ you say, still thinking about the very beautiful man who’s just cut you down.
***
Seokjin, is as unmarked as he ever was, at least from what you can see whilst he’s dressed in a three-piece suit.
You’re glad.
Your brother’s always loved cars. When you were growing up, he spent every spare moment in Yoongi’s family’s auto workshop, similar to how you spent every moment in your father’s office, learning the ropes of your family business.
There was a Kim needed to take over the company, and thankfully, your family didn’t have any qualms about which Kim sibling it was.
A life in business would have killed your brother, totally unlike a life spent drag racing on Mount Samo, you think, uncomfortable with the irony.
If your parents were still alive, they’d probably have things to say about Seokjin’s lifestyle.
At least he’s always with Yoongi.
Min Yoongi.
You sneak a glance at him over your plate as you eat.
Around you and Seokjin, his normally serious face relaxes into a smile, perfect teeth flashing often, eyes crinkled at the corners.
Your brother’s closest friend, you spent most of your teenage years swinging between a desperate crush on him and a desperate need not to be perceived by his intense, penetrating gaze.
Now that you’re older, the heat of your crush has settled into a burning ember he occasionally stokes by turning up when you meet Seokjin, all dark eyes and deep voice and the odd flattering comment that has the power to set your heart aflutter.
Apart from all that though, you know enough about Min Yoongi to know he’s got the heart of a hustler, and fierce loyalty to your brother. If your brother ever went down, Yoongi would be right there with him fighting to the bitter end.
‘You look tired, sis,’ Seokjin says, dropping a dumpling onto your plate.
‘I’m just closing on a three year contract with the Moiwa group,’ you say, not denying it. You’ve been working on a lucrative partnership with the tech company for months, and you’re finally on the home stretch.
You’re not sure how much Seokjin knows about the family business, he rarely attends board meetings, like you’ve never seen him race.
Seokjin loosens his tie, wincing slightly as he does so.
‘How’s your collarbone?’ you ask.
Four weeks ago Seokjin had broken his collarbone and three ribs on Mount Samo. He hadn’t told you about it, but as you are each other’s next of kin, you’d found out anyway.
‘Healing,’ Seokjin says, making up for his brevity with a brilliant smile.
You know what they call your brother on the circuit.
Chaebol. Often said with a sneer, despite the fact that he can put together an Evolution IX blindfolded and drive it in a way that credits all the tuneups he can afford to pay for.
‘I hurt my shoulder,’ Yoongi tells you, teeth flashing in the half-smile-half-snarl that makes you feel lightheaded when it’s directed at you.
‘I’m sure you have plenty of people to take care of it for you,’ you say, straightfaced.
Yoongi blinks, and his lip curls again. ‘Don’t you want to?’
You laugh. ‘Are you trying to be cute? It doesn’t suit you, Yoongi.’
‘Stop flirting with my sister, Yoongi,’ Seokjin interjects, distracting you from Yoongi’s pout.
He turns back to you. ‘Are you free this weekend? I was planning to visit Daejeon.’
‘I’m free,’ you agree.
Your parents’ graves are in Daejeon. You and Seokjin go a couple of times a year.
Your phone rings. It’s your PA, Daeun.
‘I should go,’ you say, apologetic. ‘It’s hectic right now at work.’
‘At least finish your food,’ Seokjin urges.
‘I’ll pick up something before I get home,’ you reply.
Seokjin frowns. ‘I’ll drop food off at your place.’
You smile. ‘I’ll see you this weekend, ok? Keep my brother out of trouble, Yoongi.’
‘And you stay out of trouble too,’ you add.
Yoongi throws you another grin. ‘For you,’ he promises.
‘This weekend,’ Seokjin says.
Both men rise as you leave the room.
***
Seokjin wanted to drop by Yoongi’s workshop on your way to Daejeon, and you have to admit, it’s been a while since you’ve seen his crew.
Jung Hoseok, the angel-faced mechanic turned racer who has a smile and personality that can light up a room and drives like he’s halfway to heaven.
Jeon Jungkook, the youngest, a baby brother to all who of recent years seems to be trying his hardest to hide the facts of his pretty face and endearingly cute little shit personality, by getting tatted and pierced and wearing exclusively black.
There’s an unfamiliar person though, and as he turns to greet Seokjin upon your arrival, you realise it’s the beautiful man who sneered at you in the restaurant.
‘Y/N, this is Park Jimin,’ says Seokjin.
Park Jimin gives you a smile that makes you long to slap him.
‘We’ve met. Turns out, I wasn’t far off when I called you a princess.’
His comment makes your hackles rise.
‘I wish I could say it’s a pleasure,’ you say coolly.
‘How did you meet?’ Seokjin asks.
‘It was at the restaurant that night,’ you tell Seokjin, trying to shut down the line of questioning.
You turn to Yoongi, who’s leaning against a workbench, watching the whole exchange with a bemused look on his face.
‘I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like Y/N,’ Hoseok remarks, kindly. ‘It must be your fault, Jimin.’
You laugh. ‘I’m sure I have a lot of enemies, Hobi.’
If Seokjin’s the chaebol racer, and Yoongi’s the drifting king, you’re the ice princess of Cheongdam-dong.
You’re well aware that your family’s laissez-faire attitude to succession isn’t necessarily shared by all. You’ve grown so weary of the misogyny in your society that it barely even registers to you, now. You learned long ago to apologise for daring to carry on your family business lineage.
You completely miss the look that passes between Seokjin and Yoongi.
‘I’ll be back by nine,’ Seokjin says to Yoongi.
That gets your attention. ‘A race?’
‘We’ll look after him,’ Jungkook assures you sweetly.
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. ‘Who’s going to look after the rest of you?’
***
Seokjin parks the car, cuts the engine.
You unbuckle your belt, and you both walk around to the trunk to get the flowers you brought.
Seokjin asks, casually, as you walk down the path to your parents’ graves, ‘How’s work going?’
‘Still busy,’ you say, shading your eyes against the brightness of the afternoon sun.
‘The deal came through,’ you tell him. ‘I spent most of last night celebrating with my team.’
‘Congratulations,’ says Seokjin. He’s had the foresight to put on sunglasses, you can’t see most of his face.
‘Thanks,’ you reply. ‘How’s the Supra coming along?’
Seokjin and Yoongi are working on tuning up a fourth generation Supra for a client from Hong Kong.
‘It’s coming along,’ Seokjin says. He smiles wryly. ‘Jungkook keeps asking if he can ‘road-test’ it.’
You laugh along with him.
‘Yoongi says he’ll let him if he can rebuild it after,’ Seokjin continues.
You know Jungkook’s talented, but he’s not as skilled as either your brother or Yoongi.
‘You can come watch the race tonight, if you want,’ Seokjin offers.
He’s never invited you before.
‘Sure,’ you say.
‘We’ll head off when we get back,’ Seokjin says.
You’ve reached the graves.
Seokjin kneels down to lay the flowers on the ground.
You wonder if it’ll ever get easier.
***
You’re sitting in a corner of Yoongi’s workshop, watching as Seokjin and his crew get ready.
The atmosphere’s crackling with anticipation, a wild energy that has adrenaline thrumming through your veins.
Seokjin and Yoongi are hunched over the popped engine hood of Yoongi’s Nissan GT-R, talking quietly.
Jungkook and Hoseok are roughhousing by the workbench. Jungkook’s dressed in black leather and motorcycle boots, a chain round his neck, and you wonder, again, when the maknae started to become such a menace.
Jimin’s sitting on the raised walkway over Yoongi’s workshop, arms on the railing, feet dangling off the edge.
He catches you looking at him, and the slow smirk that spreads over his face is, to your chagrin, equal parts infuriating and attractive.
You can’t deny it, he’s not your usual type but he’s so fucking attractive you almost can’t stand to look at him.
His blond hair is styled back, a stray lock falls across his brow as he stares at you, almost in his eyes. His full lips are curved, smile lines crinkling the corners of his eyes.
The way his jacket’s lifted, with his arms braced on the railing, shows off his flat stomach, the plain t-shirt he’s got on doing nothing to hide how cut his torso is.
Beside you, Seokjin clears his throat.
‘You can ride with me,’ he says. He glances up at Jimin as he speaks, and you wonder how long Seokjin was watching before you noticed.
***
You’ve been in Seokjin’s Honda before, but never on a race day.
The interiors are black leather, he’s modified the sound system, of course, but most striking to you is the way the engine vibrates with power, even when he’s driving the speed limit en route to Mount Samo.
Up ahead, Yoongi’s leading the convoy. You’d glimpsed the flash of his grin as he’d cut Seokjin off at an intersection a couple miles back, and the barely leashed ferality of it had made you fantasise, for the umpteenth time, about sleeping with him.
Bringing up the rear are Jungkook, Hobi and Jimin, keeping tight on Seokjin’s tail.
You look around with interest at the cars idling at the summit when Seokjin slides smoothly into a spot next to Yoongi.
Seokjin cuts the engine, and you get out.
You’d expected Seokjin to get a reaction, your brother is striking even when he’s not driving a midnight black Honda, crimson racing stripes cutting the car in half lengthways, but to your surprise, there are an equal number of eyes on you.
Yoongi’s lit a cigarette, the glow of the lit end reflected in his dark eyes as he moves over to make a space for you next to where he’s leaning.
Smoke curls around your face as he asks, polite as ever, ‘Do you mind if I smoke around you?’
‘I don’t,’ you reassure him.
Yoongi nods. ‘I usually just have the one.’
His lips curl. ‘Then another when I win.’
Seokjin says. ‘Jimin will drive you back down when he’s scouting. We’ll see you at the bottom.’
‘Scouting?’
‘For police,’ Seokjin explains.
You look at him sharply.
‘If you want, Jimin can drive you home right now,’ Seokjin offers.
It occurs to you then, just how separate yours and Seokjin’s lives are.
Yours is a world of meetings, boardrooms, euphemisms for what one really means.
And Seokjin’s is this, nighttimes and headlamps so bright they light up the city, and a physical rawness you never see.
Your brother looks chaebol but inside? He’s this.
‘I’ll stay,’ you say. ‘Good luck.’
Seokjin’s gaze lingers on you, but he doesn’t say anything else.
When Jimin arrives Seokjin takes him aside. They have a conversation you can’t hear, they’re several feet away and Hobi’s trying to show you pictures of his new puppy.
There’s a shift in the atmosphere, the deafening roar of engines, blinding lights as three new cars arrive.
One looks like it’s heading straight for your brother’s Honda.
You tense as it approaches at full speed, screeching to a halt barely a foot from the front bumper.
Seokjin raises an eyebrow, and beside him Yoongi straightens up, grinds the remnants of his cigarette to ash under his boot.
‘Who’s that, Hobi?’ you ask, as the driver gets out.
He’s tall, like your brother, good looking in a flashy way, and the way he stares at your brother as he approaches makes your skin crawl.
There’s a tattoo running up the side of his neck, next to a jagged scar.
You slip past Hoseok and go to stand next to Seokjin.
‘Hyunjin,’ Seokjin says, neutral.
Yoongi just stares back, lip curled in a sneer.
‘Seokjin,’ the man replies. ‘Ready to be driven off a mountain?’
You tense, and Hyunjin’s gaze shifts to you.
‘I’ll be waiting for you at the bottom,’ Seokjin replies, but Hyunjin barely reacts.
He’s still staring at you.
‘Who’s this?’ he asks.
‘The person who’ll make you pay if you do anything to my brother,’ you snap.
He raises an eyebrow, gaze shifting between you and Seokjin thoughtfully.
‘You must be the ice princess. I didn’t think you’d be quite this pretty. I guess Seokjin keeps you hidden away for a reason.’
‘Shut up,’ Yoongi growls, as Seokjin shifts so he’s in front of you.
You realise Jungkook and Hoseok are behind you.
Hyunjin just laughs.
‘I’ll see you at the bottom, princess. If I beat your brother can I have a kiss?’
Seokjin says, voice low and even, ‘What about winner gets the loser’s ride?’
Your eyes widen. You know how many hours Seokjin put in on his car in Yoongi’s workshop.
Hyunjin scoffs. ‘I’m going to enjoy driving your car.’
He gives you another long look, and then he’s turning on his heel.
‘Go with Jimin,’ Seokjin says, glancing at you. ‘I’ll see you down there.’
You’re hesitant. ‘Seokjin —- that guy —-‘
‘Don’t worry,’ Seokjin says. ‘I’ll beat him.’
His expression softens.
‘It’s not my first race,’ he reminds you gently.
You realise Jimin’s got his car pulled up next to you, door open, waiting.
‘Good luck,’ you say, still uncertain.
Seokjin nods, waits until you get in the car, closes the door after you.
***
Jimin drives in silence, navigating the hairpin bends that make Mount Samo a drifter’s dream with a competence that makes you wonder why he’s not racing himself.
‘Is my brother going to be all right?’ you ask, plaintive in the quiet of the car.
Jimin doesn’t answer immediately, and you’re wondering if he heard you when you catch him looking at you in the rearview mirror.
‘Your brother will be fine,’ he says finally. ‘We’ll wait for him at the finish.’
You’re thinking about the way Hyunjin sneered at Seokjin.
‘Is it always like that?’ you ask.
Jimin takes his time answering this question too.
‘Seokjin and Hyunjin have a history,’ he tells you. He turns to you briefly.
‘You should ask Seokjin about it.’
‘Have you known Seokjin long?’ you ask.
Jimin glances at you again.
‘Not long. We started working together a few months ago.’
‘Do you race?’
‘Occasionally.’
‘Are you any good?’ you ask.
Jimin changes gears, slows to a stop.
‘Never good enough for you, princess,’ he says, flicking his gaze at you.
You feel chastened. It’s fair enough, you know that you can be a snob. It’s a learned behaviour, from your years trying to prove yourself as leader of the Kim conglomerate, but Jimin wouldn’t know that, and you doubt he’d care.
‘I’m sorry,’ you say.
Jimin parks the car, turns up the music. He glances at the clock on the dash.
‘Your brother’ll be down in twenty minutes. We’ll have an extra car to drive back - which is why Hobi and Jungkook rode together on the way here.’
‘The wager,’ you say, a question.
‘The wager,’ Jimin confirms.
‘It was all planned then?’
Jimin laughs, short. ‘Hyunjin’s predictable.’
He glances in the rearview. ‘I’ve never seen anyone drift like your brother.’
You’re processing this when he says, referring to your apology, ‘It’s fine. I’ve been nothing but a dick to you since we met.’
‘Are you any good at your job?’ Jimin asks.
There’s the faintest hint of taunting in his voice. You can’t blame him in all honesty.
You decide to tell the truth.
‘I’m inexperienced but I have a good team.’
You look out the window.
‘I don’t have a problem carrying responsibility. Out of the both of us, I was the better choice. Corporate life would have killed Seokjin.’
You press a thumb to your temple, massaging the tension headache that’s threatening to come away.
The silence in the car is deafening.
You glance at Jimin.
He’s staring at you, unreadable.
‘I’ll wait outside,’ you say.
You push your door open and step out into the cool darkness of the night.
A light rain starts to fall.
Behind you, Jimin gets out of the car. A moment later he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric warm from his body heat.
All he says is, ‘They should be here soon.’
***
Your heart accelerates when the gleam of headlights cuts through the dark.
The rain’s stopped but the tarmac of the road still glistens with wet.
You can’t see who it is, blinded as you are.
The car comes to a smooth stop not six feet from where you and Jimin, and a handful of others, are waiting.
The door opens as your vision begins to adjust, and your brother steps out.
He looks around, spots you and Jimin, lifts his hand in a wave like butter wouldn’t melt.
There’s a wave of cheering, drowned out by the roar of Yoongi’s Nissan as he cruises past, stops a little way past your brother’s car.
You don’t even notice when Hyunjin and the rest of the racers arrive, caught up as you are in the overwhelming wave of relief that your brother and Yoongi are all right.
You lose Jimin in the crowd that surges forward, eyes only on your brother as Hyunjin tosses keys on the ground at his feet, disgusted.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You check it distractedly as you head for Seokjin.
It’s an unknown number.
You’re swiping to answer when you collide with what feels like a brick wall.
You’d be off your feet if an arm hadn’t curled around you to steady you.
You look up into Hyunjin’s face.
‘Where’s my kiss, princess?’ he asks. His grip around your waist feels like steel.
You lean back.
‘I don’t remember promising you one,’ you tell him, bringing your arms up against his chest, trying to put more distance between you.
He laughs, holds tighter, starts walking you backwards.
‘Get off me,’ you warn.
‘Or what?’ he asks. ‘You gonna call your brother to come save you?’
‘She’s got more than one friend here, actually,’ comes a voice from behind you.
You turn to see Jimin, hands loose by his sides, expression hard.
‘She asked you to get off her,’ Jimin points out.
Hyunjin’s hand tightens painfully around your wrist for a heart stopping moment before he scoffs and drops it.
‘Maybe next time, princess,’ he says.
He leers at you as he steps away.
‘Are you ok?’ Jimin asks, nodding to your wrist.
‘I’m fine,’ you say automatically, despite the throbbing in your wrist. You’re used to showing no weakness.
Seokjin and Yoongi have reached you.
‘What happened?’ Seokjin asks, an edge to his voice.
‘We saw that fucker head straight for you,’ Yoongi says. The feral spark’s back in his eyes, he looks like he’s spoiling for a fight.
You tug the cuffs of Jimin’s jacket down over your wrists.
‘Nothing happened,’ you say.
Seokjin doesn’t believe you, you can tell, but you don’t want to talk about it.
Finally, he says, ‘I’ll drive you—‘
‘I can drive you home,’ Jimin says. ‘It’s on my way.’
***
You sit in the passenger seat of Jimin’s car, waiting as he grabs something from the trunk.
He gets in, tosses a heat pack into your lap.
‘He grabbed you pretty hard,’ he says. ‘You can use that if you feel sore.’
You look at it for a moment.
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m sorry I lost you for a moment there in the crowd,’ Jimin says, shifting the car into gear as he pulls out onto the road.
‘I’m not a kid,’ you say.
The heat pack feels nice.
‘You’re definitely not a kid,’ Jimin agrees.
His gaze flicks over you, so quick you wonder if you imagined it.
‘You don’t even know where I live,’ you say, with a flicker of amusement.
‘I’ll drive you anywhere you want,’ Jimin replies.
For the first time, he smiles at you, lips curving, eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Where do you want to go, princess?’
***
Your back’s against the front door of your apartment, your head thrown back as Jimin presses heated kisses to your neck.
He’s beautiful, dark eyes and gleaming skin, you keep wanting to watch him but he’s kissing you so well it’s hard to keep your eyes open.
He’s got one hand under your top, smoothing circles over your skin, the other curled over your ass, squeezing your flesh.
‘Jimin,’ you breathe, your hand braced on his shoulder, fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck.
‘Yeah,’ he murmurs, silvery voice making you tingle. ‘Touch me, if you want.’
You slide a hand over the hardness of his torso, feeling the ridges of his abs, the tautness of him.
Skin over muscle over bone.
He’s hard all the places you’re soft.
You can’t stifle a moan as he rolls his hips against yours.
‘Where’s your room,’ he grunts, pulling a whine from your lips as he lifts his own lips from your skin.
You point, and he knits his fingers with yours, tugging you with him as he heads for your bedroom.
The door closes behind you, and in front of you, Jimin shucks his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
His beauty stops you in your tracks.
Jimin grins. He tilts his chin at you, all golden skin and bright eyes.
‘Stop staring,’ he says, bold, ‘and take your clothes off.’
You can feel your skin heat as Jimin fixes his gaze on you, watching as you fumble with the buttons on your blouse, undo the fastening on your jeans.
You can’t meet his gaze when you’re in your bra and panties.
Jimin takes two steps forward, dropping his own jeans.
You’re still looking down, so the bottom half of him comes into view first.
The waistband of his boxer briefs, stretched over taut skin, the very obvious bulge just beneath. Thighs so muscled your own thighs tighten against each other.
He lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him.
‘Why so shy, princess? Look how hard I am.’
He doesn’t wait for a reply, lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s surprisingly gentle.
He walks you backward onto the bed, takes a moment to look at you laid on your sheets. His hand strokes over his rigid cock once, then he’s lowering himself on top of you.
He’s gentle, but you can feel the coiled power in his muscles as he grinds himself into the softness between your legs.
‘You really are a princess,’ he murmurs into the dip between your breasts, so lightly you know he’s just teasing.
He kisses the round of your breast, tongue flicking around your areola tantalisingly until you’re soaked, your hips seeking friction against his hardness.
‘Jimin,’ you plead, maddened with arousal.
‘Don’t worry,’ he soothes. ‘I’ve got you. Panties off.’
You lift your hips to pull your panties down.
There’s a rip of foil, a barely suppressed groan from Jimin as he unrolls the condom onto himself.
He positions himself above you, slides into you like he’s been doing it his whole life, and you moan, eyes squeezing shut at the stretch of him.
‘You like that?’ he asks, silvery voice deep now, breath hot against your skin.
‘Yeah,’ you cry.
He props himself on one arm, rolls his hips against yours.
‘Fuck,’ he groans.
He picks up the pace, eyes on you, flicking between your face and how he’s making your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts.
He’s glistening with a sheen of sweat now, hair flopped over his face, damp.
‘Look at you, princess,’ he murmurs, voice dropped low, breathless. ‘Look how well you take me.’
He flattens a hand over the curve of your lower belly, thumb flicking over your clit, purposeful, firm, making the pleasure build.
Slows, lifts your hips so he can fuck you deeper.
The curve of his cock hits so good you’re crying out with each rock of his hips against yours.
You come with a gasp of his name, and Jimin drops down on you, grinding, hips working.
‘Fuck,’ he groans, deep in his chest. ‘Take it, baby.’
You wind a hand around his neck, and his lips meet yours again, tongue licking into your mouth as he fills the condom.
‘Shit,’ he groans, pulling out, knotting off the condom, tossing it carelessly.
You’re breathless still, heart hammering in your chest, but you sit up, admire how he looks sprawled out on the covers of your bed, flushed and glowing.
‘You were right, you know,’ Jimin says.
He’d been looking up at the ceiling, but now he flicks his gaze at you.
‘You’re too good for me.’
You scoff. ‘Shut up. I never said that.’
Jimin laughs. ‘I didn’t say it was going to stop me from pursuing you.’
You raise an eyebrow. ‘Pursuing me?’
‘I said what I said,’ Jimin says.
He sits up, muscles flexing, hair pushed back. He drops a kiss on your exposed shoulder, teeth flashing as he follows it up with a playful nip.
As you’re getting up, picking up your clothes, you notice a flash of gold half-out of the pocket of his jeans.
You lift it out, curious.
Jimin says nothing as you rub your thumb over the gold badge, turn it over to see his ID.
‘You’re a cop,’ you say. It’s not a question, you have the proof in your hand, but it comes out querulous anyway.
‘I’m a cop,’ Jimin replies.
You’re trying to process. ‘Does my brother know?’
‘Seokjin knows,’ Jimin says.
He gets up, starts getting dressed too.
‘It’s illegal to race on Mount Samo,’ you say.
‘I’m undercover,’ Jimin tells you. He reaches for his badge, and you let him take it out of your loose grip.
‘What are you investigating?’ you ask.
‘Currently, your ass,’ Jimin says.
You crack a reluctant smile. ‘Could have told me you were a cop before we slept together.’
‘I usually wait for a second date before I get the handcuffs out,’ Jimin shoots back.
You laugh, but your mind’s still racing, wondering why Jimin’s hanging around with your brother and Yoongi.
You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts it takes you a moment to realise Jimin’s watching you.
‘I should get to bed,’ you say, feigning a yawn. ‘I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’
Jimin asks, quietly, ‘Is there anything you want to ask me?’
You’re troubled, but you force a smile.
‘I’ll save my questions for when I’m less tired,’ you say.
Jimin’s got his jacket on, you’ve both moved out of the bedroom.
He says, ‘I’d like to see you again.’
Your smile becomes a little less forced.
‘Yeah,’ you agree.
Jimin looks like he wants to say more, but all he does is nod, flash you a smile before he leaves.
The click of the latch falling into place as he pulls the door to sounds oddly final.
***
You’re tired.
You’ve been in and out of meetings all day. On top of that there’s been a problem with the city planning committee over the new property you’ve just acquired.
It was a hard fought battle but you’d managed to pip your competitor, Jungcorp, to the post. You’re not sure why Jungcorp had fought so hard for it, it’s an abandoned tower block in an unglamorous part of the city, but the land’s invaluable to you for development.
As far as you know Jungcorp’s got no vested interests in property development.
You look up, exasperated, as there’s yet another knock on your door.
It’s past 8pm, your feet are sore and all you want to do is go home and take your bra off, if you could only just finish reading and sign off on the city planning committee’s requirements.
Plus you thought you’d sent everyone from your executive team home.
Your frown softens when you realise it’s Jimin.
You’ve been texting back and forth since you hooked up, he’s called you a few times, but you’ve been too busy to meet.
‘How’d you get in here?’ you ask, getting up to greet him.
‘I’m a cop, remember?’ Jimin says. He looks as pretty as ever, dressed all in black, silverware in his ears.
‘I have security,’ you point out.
‘Jaebeom?’ Jimin asks, feigning innocence. ‘We used to work together.
You roll your eyes.
‘I thought you wouldn’t mind me dropping by unannounced like this,’ Jimin says, ‘because I brought food.’
He brings his arms round from behind his back to reveal a bag of food that makes your stomach growl, loudly and ungracefully.
‘When did you last eat?’ Jimin asks.
‘I had a protein shake for lunch,’ you say, eyeing him as he sets out boxes of noodles. ‘They’re apparently a complete meal.’
It’s Jimin’s turn to roll his eyes.
‘Prawns or chicken?’ he asks, holding out chopsticks to you.
You reach out and grasp his hand instead.
‘I’ve missed you a little,’ you say, tugging.
Jimin lets you pull him closer. ‘Yeah? I’ve missed you a lot.’
He’s close now, head tilted to yours, face barely inches away.
‘A lot?’ you ask, staring at his lips.
‘Yeah.’ His voice is husky now, and he dips his head to yours.
You meet him more than halfway, lips already parted.
Jimin’s hand curls around the back of your head as he slants his own to kiss you deeper.
‘I lied,’ he murmurs, crowding you against the edge of your desk.
‘I didn’t just come to bring you food. I came because I knew you’d look fucking sexy in your work clothes.’
He kisses you again, hips pressed against yours, hand slipping down to cup your ass.
You slip your arm around him, sighing a little as he kisses you, lips warm and sweet.
‘Eat, before we get distracted,’ Jimin says, pulling away.
You whine, disgruntled, but he’s insistent.
The noodles are hot, tasty, satiating the hunger you’ve been suppressing all day.
‘Thanks,’ you say, as Jimin gets up to clear away the food.
You’d help, but it’s the longest break from work you’ve had all day, and now that you’ve sat down on the comfortable sofa you’re not sure you can muster the willpower to get up.
Jimin looks at you knowingly.
‘Want a ride home?’
‘I should probably get back to work,’ you say, regretfully.
Jimin says, ‘You look exhausted. Here, I’ll take you home.’
You find yourself picking up your things, letting Jimin help you on with your coat, following him to the lifts.
Jimin curls an arm around you, and you lean into him as you wait for the lift.
He smells good, but more than that, he feels good, solid, his shoulder corded with muscle under your cheek.
‘You can lean on me,’ Jimin says. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but he holds you tighter when you try to pull away.
In the car, Jimin leans over to help you fasten your belt.
‘I can do it,’ you say, but he just smiles.
‘I said you can lean on me,’ he tells you. He starts the engine, puts on soft music, a lo-fi beat.
‘Sit back, princess. I’ve got you.’
You want to tell him to stop calling you princess but you’re so comfortable and warm the words won’t leave your lips.
You blink awake to find that Jimin’s parked outside your apartment building.
‘Sorry,’ you mumble, trying to orientate yourself. ‘Did I sleep the whole way?’
‘You talk in your sleep,’ Jimin tells you.
Now you’re fully awake.
‘What did I say?’
‘I didn’t know you liked my ass that much,’ Jimin says, thoughtfully.
‘What?’
He laughs. ‘Go to bed, princess. Want me to walk you up?’
‘I’ll be all right,’ you tell him. You hesitate, hand on the door handle.
‘Thanks, Jimin.’
‘Anytime, princess.’
He waits until you’re inside the doors before he drives away.
***
Yoongi rolls himself out from under the body of the Subaru he’s working on just as Seokjin approaches.
He stares at the pictures Seokjin hands him, jaw tightening, anger sparking, hot and bright, within him.
‘Does she know?’
‘Jimin says she doesn’t seem to know,’ Seokjin says, voice low, furious.
Yoongi hands him back the pictures, lip curled in disgust.
‘I think you’d better fucking tell her,’ he says.
‘It’s not just that,’ Seokjin says. ‘I got this, too.’
Yoongi listens to the recording on Seokjin’s phone, swears.
‘Shit, that asshole’s asking to be fucked up.’
‘Call the guys,’ Seokjin says, voice hard. ‘We get her and then we show him what happens to people who fuck with us.’
***
You’re hurrying, running late. You’re meeting a client from Norway in the busiest part of the city at 7pm sharp.
You glance at your watch just as the light goes green at a multiway intersection, watch the numbers indicating how long you have to cross tick down as you walk briskly across the white stripes on the road.
There’s a thunderous roar, a wave of screams, and the throng of people crossing with you disperses rapidly as you look around to see where the noise is coming from.
The crowd’s clearing, but you stay where you are in the middle of the intersection because you recognise the midnight black Honda with the red racing stripes heading straight for you, the sleek silver Nissan keeping pace alongside it.
Your brother drives slightly past you and executes a 90 degree turn so his car’s across your path, lengthways, tyres screeching.
The acrid smell of burning rubber fills your nostrils, but you almost don’t notice it, because three other cars surround you in quick succession, boxing you in.
To your left, Yoongi, dark eyes scanning you as if to assure himself you’re unharmed.
To your right, Hobi, his face more serious than you’ve ever seen him.
Behind you, Jimin, a shadow behind his blinding headlights.
Seokjin leans across the passenger seat, pushes the door open.
‘Get in,’ he says.
***
You have questions, but Seokjin waits until you’re out of the busiest part of town, when the streets get a little wider, the lights less bright, before he starts talking.
You realise he’s taking you to his apartment.
‘What’s going on?’ you ask.
‘Hyunjin threatened you,’ Seokjin says, terse, jaw tense as he navigates the expensive neighbourhood his apartment’s in.
‘He threatened me?’ you ask, sure you’ve heard wrong.
Seokjin glances at you. ‘The land you just purchased.’
You frown. ‘The square footage we fought Jungcorp over?’
‘Jungcorp is Hyunjin’s grandfather’s company,’ Seokjin says.
The puzzle pieces click into place.
You let out a low whistle. ‘Shit. And he calls you chaebol.’
‘The company’s in trouble,’ Seokjin says, ‘and they’re being investigated for running drugs out of Jamsil.’
He slides into a space in the underground car park, cuts the engine.
‘You know Jimin’s part of the narcotics squad.’
‘He didn’t say what he was investigating,’ you reply, sliding out the door, walking with Seokjin to the private lift.
Seokjin punches in the code, activates the lift, and a moment later you’re walking into his apartment.
There are pictures scattered across the coffee table in the lounge, and for once you don’t stop to admire the view of the city.
They’re all pictures of you. Full colour, high resolution.
Pictures of you in your office, walking into your apartment, at a client dinner. Even, to your horror, one of you in your bed, asleep.
‘Who took these?’ you ask. Your voice comes out tremulous, you barely recognise it.
‘Hyunjin had them sent to me,’ Seokjin replies.
You have to sit down.
‘They want you to give up the Jamsil property and land,’ Seokjin tells you.
You’re struggling to take all this in.
‘Or what?’
Seokjin doesn’t want to give you the details of what Hyunjin threatened to do to you.
‘You should stay at mine until this settles down,’ is what he settles for.
You look up at him.
‘I can’t give up the Jamsil land, Seokjin. It’s the biggest victory I’ve had since I took over the company.’
‘No victory is worth your life,’ Seokjin points out.
Logically, you know your brother is right, but you don’t know if he knows how hard you’ve fought since you took control of the reins of the Kim conglomerate.
The times you were challenged over decisions the board would have praised you for, if you were a man.
The tears you cried in secret when your spirit was battered and bruised from pretending you were immune to the snide comments, the demeaning remarks.
You know you’re stronger than the adversity you faced but it’s never been easy.
Seokjin studies your face, a look in his eyes that makes you wonder how much your older brother really knows.
‘Yoongi’ll take you home to get your things. I’ll fix us dinner for when you get back.’
***
Yoongi never really seems to expect anything from you when you’re together.
It’s a trait that you’ve come to appreciate more and more as the years go by.
He listened to your naive prattling about your friends on the odd occasion when he picked you up after school, never commenting except to ask if you wanted ice cream.
He picked you up sometimes when you were back from college, letting you choose the music you wanted to play, handing you snacks silently, sometimes smoking out the open window.
He drives quietly now, changing gears so seamlessly you barely notice even though you’re staring at his hands.
You remember once, a couple years ago, when you’d met by chance when you were walking to the metro after a disastrous blind date.
You’d been so stung by the experience the indignation had tumbled out of you, words jumbled, as he’d pulled up alongside you and offered you a lift.
Yoongi had listened all the way to your apartment, murmuring support in the lower range of his vocal register, a reassuring rumble if not any actual words.
As soon as he’d stopped the car you’d unbuckled your belt, intending to turn to him and thank him, and instead, you’d looked at him looking at you, his hair pulled back from his forehead in a tiny ponytail, eyes dark and unreadable, and you’d leaned forward and kissed him instead.
Yoongi had grunted a little, and you would have pulled away, if he hadn’t cupped the back of your head and sought your lips with a hunger that thrilled you all the way to your bones.
Heat had pooled in your belly, down low, as he licked boldly into your mouth, slid his big hands around your hips to steady you.
You’d pulled away, breathless, more than a little aroused, and he’d quirked a brow at you.
A question.
You think that if you’d showed any uncertainty, Yoongi would have stopped, and so you didn’t.
You’d taken his hardness in your mouth with a confidence fueled by the reverent, affectionate way he said your name, had learned what he liked by the way his breathing quickened until it was laboured gasps, then a single uttered, emphatic ‘fuck’ as he spilled down your throat, hand clenched on the steering wheel.
He’d given you a feral smile, thumbed away a smear of his cum from the corner of your mouth and put his hand up your skirt like it belonged there.
You’d come crying his name, once with his tongue buried deep in your cunt and another time on his cock as he drilled you into your bed.
He’d left in the morning, a kiss on your forehead and a goodbye so sweet it’s never mattered to you that you’ve never talked about that night since.
You sometimes wonder if he still thinks of it. You’ve never asked.
You look out the window as Yoongi drives.
He reaches into the centre console, tosses a packet of chocolate fish into your lap.
‘I’m not a kid, you don’t have to bribe me with snacks,’ you grouse, but you open it anyway.
The chocolate reminds you that you haven’t eaten all day.
‘Stop being cute and I won’t buy you snacks,’ Yoongi says, reasonably.
‘I’m not cute.’
He just snorts.
‘Want one?’ you offer.
‘You look like you need them more than me,’ Yoongi says, but he accepts the fish you place in his palm.
He walks you up to your building once he’s parked, waits in the living room as you pack a bag.
Once you’re back in his car you turn to him.
‘Did you see those pictures?’
Yoongi’s jaw tightens. ‘Yes.’
‘Seokjin’s worried,’ you say.
‘He’s your big brother,’ Yoongi says, neutral. ‘He worries about you like you worry about him.’
‘I’m fine,’ you tell him.
‘I’m not,’ Yoongi says. He glances in the rearview, signals to turn. ‘I’m angry.’
You put your hand on his arm. ‘You’re always angry,’ you point out, gently.
Yoongi huffs out a breath. ‘No one comes for you, especially not some half assed wannabe racer like Hyunjin.’
You’re touched at his anger on your behalf.
Yoongi looks at you. ‘Seokjin and I will take care of it.’
‘I can’t give up the Jamsil land, Yoongi. I’ve finally clawed myself some credibility.’
‘Fuck that,’ Yoongi agrees. ‘You’re not giving up jack shit for that asshole.’
His lip curls in a half snarl. ‘We’re not giving in even if I have to chain you to me to keep you safe.’
You raise an eyebrow at him.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow back.
He stops in front of the private lift to Seokjin’s apartment.
‘I think you’d like being chained to me,’ you say, unable to resist.
The smile he gives you is a mix of rueful and cocky.
‘Of course I fucking would. I’d make you like it too.’
He unlocks the doors so you can get out, rolls down the window as you get into the lift.
‘I think about that night all the fucking time,’ he tells you, voice low.
You look up at him in surprise, but don’t have time to reply before the lift doors shut between you.
***
Seokjin sets a plate in front of you.
‘Eat,’ he urges.
You pick up your chopsticks and dig in.
‘The responsible thing to do would be to tell you to give up the land,’ he says. ‘That’s what our parents would tell you to do.’
His words set off a pang of sadness that resonates in your chest.
‘If our parents were still here I wouldn’t be running the company,’ you reply.
‘I don’t want you to give up the land. I know how hard you fought for that victory.’
Seokjin takes another bite.
‘I know how hard you’ve been fighting.’
‘Running the company was always what I wanted,’ you tell him. ‘It’s just that it was supposed to be with dad at the helm whilst I found my feet.’
It’s the first time you’ve ever come close to hinting that it hasn’t been easy.
There’s sadness in Seokjin’s eyes.
‘I can put in some time at the company. I’m a Kim, too.’
‘The company is what I want,’ you say, very gently, ‘but it’s not what you want.’
Seokjin sighs. ‘What I want is for you to be happy. I am.’
You snort. ‘You have three broken ribs and a fractured collarbone.’
Seokjin smiles. ‘And you have no injuries. Let’s keep it that way.’
You clink your glasses in a toast.
‘So, Jimin, huh?’ Seokjin asks, sly.
You blink at him but don’t say anything.
Your brother manages to smirk at you anyway.
***
You’re in the gym in your brother’s building, running through your PT routine when there’s a flicker of reflection in the floor to ceiling window you’re facing.
Jimin.
‘Seokjin said you’d be down here,’ he says.
You look up at his reflection in the glass.
‘I’ve got a meeting with my board tomorrow,’ you say. ‘They’re going to want to congratulate me on the Jamsil acquisition.’
You get up from the mat, turn around, and realise he’s as sweaty as you are.
Jimin tilts his head, blond hair falling over one eye. He’s wearing a grey hoodie, unzipped, a white t-shirt underneath that’s moulded to his torso, sweatpants, hands shoved in his pockets.
The gold pendant he wears glimmers in the low light of the gym.
There’s a faint bruise on his jaw.
Unthinking, you step forward and brush a thumb over it lightly.
‘What happened?’ you ask.
Jimin stays perfectly still as you touch him.
‘Just some bangers down by the river,’ he says, vague.
‘Hurt anywhere else?’ you ask.
‘Check me over and see,’ he says, an invitation.
He’s ready for the kiss you press on him, sliding his arms around you, hands warm on the gap between your top and leggings.
You lose yourself in his kisses, only realising he’s walked you backward when your back hits the glass.
The cool press of the window against your shoulder blades is a startling contrast to the warmth of him.
Shit, why’s he so warm?
Jimin’s more insistent than usual, you can feel his erection, already rock solid, nudging at your core even between your layers of clothing.
He grunts, fingers tugging at the zipper down the front of your top, working your breasts free, hands cupping you possessively, pinching your nipples.
You’re aware anyone could walk in but you’re struggling to care, at least whilst Jimin’s hot mouth is pressed against your skin and he’s murmuring filth to you as he touches you.
You’re the one who ends up tugging your leggings down. They’re barely at mid thigh before Jimin’s surged forward, entering you to the hilt in one stroke.
‘Shit, Jimin,’ you gasp. It’s tight like this, your legs pinned together.
‘Turn,’ Jimin commands.
He pulls out, turns you, one hand cupping your cheek so your face doesn’t hit the glass, the other pressed into the small of your back so your hips are angled perfectly for him to enter you again.
He fucks you hard, drilling you into the glass, cock gliding in and out of you at a pace that makes stars form behind your eyelids.
You’re not wet enough but the friction adds to the thrill.
Your nipples tighten harder against the cold of the window.
‘Look at you,’ Jimin groans. ‘Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.’
His hand kneads the flesh of your ass, squeezing so hard you know he’s going to leave handprints.
He groans again, long, drawn out, into the back of your neck as he spills.
You’re stil recovering when he turns you around again, drops to his knees, pushes his head between your thighs.
He looks up at you, flushed, breathless still from fucking you, eyes dark as he licks up into your cunt.
He hooks his hands over your bared thighs, parts you with his thumbs, and laps at your clit.
‘Jimin,’ you gasp.
‘Yeah, fuck,’ he moans. He’s flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue, slow circles, fingers sliding into you, curving, pressing.
You can see his come leaking out of you, dripping down his hand as your cunt spasms around his fingers.
He keeps up the pace, fingers moving in and out of you, lips suctioning at your clit, and your fingers tighten in his hair as you come.
He moans like he loves the taste of you, licking at your arousal until your knees weaken.
You get re-dressed in a hurry, Jimin helping you with most of it, shucking off his hoodie and pulling it tight around you.
‘Come on. I’ll put you to bed.’
You’re boneless from your orgasm, weary from the stress of the last few days.
You lean on him as you head back up to Seokjin’s apartment.
Jimin waits, seated on the edge of your bed as you take a shower, pulls back the covers so you can get in.
You grasp his wrist as he gets up.
‘Where are you going?’ you ask, sleepy.
‘I’ve got more to do, princess.’
Jimin presses a kiss to your forehead.
‘It’ll be over tomorrow, ok?’
‘Yeah?’
You’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.
‘Yeah. Promise.’
You want to ask more but you’re asleep before he leaves your room.
***
You love the view from your office, in the nighttime but also on days like today, when the sun blazes bright, laying out the city before you.
In the distance, the silhouette of Mount Samo.
It always reminds you of Seokjin.
Seokjin had asked you to back down from the deal on the Jamsil land, just until he could ‘take care of things’, but your board meeting’s been planned for months.
The success of the acquisition was meant to be the cherry on the top of the cake, the final step in proving your worth to the company.
You’d tried, at dinner last night, to articulate to Seokjin how much you needed this, but had found yourself too close to tears for comfort.
You think maybe at the end he’d understood.
You breathe in, slow, trying to get your head in the game before you face your board.
Your PA buzzes with a reminder.
You take one last look at Mount Samo in the distance and turn.
Time to go.
The walk to the meeting room’s never felt so short.
Everyone rises when you enter.
You scan the sea of faces around the U-shaped table and are about to sit when the glass door swings open.
The murmur through the room makes you turn sharply.
Your brother, tall and broad and exquisitely coiffed, walks up to stand beside you at the head of the room.
All eyes are on you, but Seokjin doesn’t seem affected in the slightest.
He leans over, and says, simply, ‘I was wrong.’
You search his gaze, and realise how wrong you were to think Seokjin has no idea what you’re going through.
The realisation makes warmth course through you.
You compose yourself enough to say, ‘That’s why our parents left the company to me, brother.’
The laugh you share makes the tension ease in a way it hasn’t in days.
You turn back to your board.
‘Let’s begin.’
***
The meeting is a success.
Maybe you’re just flying high off the reaction to your report, but you think you’ve made a significant step towards proving your abilities.
Seokjin, beside you, loosens his tie as he starts the car.
‘Where are we going?’ you ask.
‘You’ve done your bit,’ Seokjin says, glancing in the rearview as he pulls out of the space he’s parked in.
His jaw tightens. ‘It’s time to do mine.’
***
You’ve never really been on Mount Samo in the day before, and the hairpin bends that Seokjin’s manoeuvring with ease are making you a little queasy.
Seokjin glances at you in the rearview mirror, amusement on his face.
‘I could drive this blindfolded,’ he tells you.
‘That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,’ you mutter, trying to keep your eyes straight ahead instead of gaping over the sheer drop you’re inches away from.
‘What have you got planned?’ you ask.
‘We’ve actually already carried out the plan,’ Seokjin tells you. ‘I thought you’d like to be there for the final part.’
You’re curious, thinking back to the night before, when Jimin met you in the gym and then left because he had things to take care of. You’d never heard Seokjin come back, you’d assumed that you’d been asleep and that he’d been quiet.
For the first time, you notice the dark circles under Seokjin’s eyes, marring his normally perfect complexion.
It strikes you that although you’ve been bemoaning your brother’s lack of involvement in your work life, you know very little about what he gets up to.
‘What did you do, Seokjin?’ you ask.
‘Nothing Hyunjin didn’t have coming to him,’ Seokjin replies.
He shrugs.
‘I set him up to meet again today so he could have a chance to win back the car I won from him the other day. I gave Jimin all the pictures Hyunjin sent me, the threats he sent against you.’
Seokjin’s lips thin into a hard line.
‘Hyunjin’s car’s been captured on CCTV in a notorious spot in Jamsil that the narcotics squad have been monitoring.’
You’re staring at your brother.
‘There are traces of narcotics in the trunk.’
Seokjin blinks. ‘Jimin knows I won the car, but he left with you that night so he hasn’t seen it driven by anyone other than Hyunjin.’
You see what your brother’s done.
You turn to him, realising only now, how carefully he’s been watching you this whole time.
Seokjin’s voice is carefully neutral. ‘This is the kind of thing your big brother gets up to.’
Seokjin doesn’t know about everything in your life, and you don’t know everything about his.
All you know is, he’s your brother, and you can stand up for him like he stood up for you.
You put your hand on his, where it’s loosely curled over the gear shaft.
‘Guess you’re a good big brother after all.’
Seokjin fixes his gaze on your joined hands, throat bobbing as he swallows.
‘I’m the best,’ he agrees, giving you a crooked smile.
***
When you make it to the summit, Yoongi’s already there, peering through binoculars.
‘Hey princess,’ he says, shifting over on the hood of his car to make room for you.
He hands you the binoculars, casual. ‘Check this out.’
You hold the binoculars up, and Yoongi gently pushes you in the right direction, fingers warm under your chin.
The scene’s a few hundred feet down from the summit, and for once you’re not distracted by the vertiginous drop.
There’s Hyunjin’s distinctive car flanked by a tactical team, all clad in distinctive blue and yellow jackets over bulletproof vests.
Hyunjin, hands above his head.
A flash of blonde hair you’d know anywhere.
Jimin cuffing him and guiding him to an armoured van.
Beside you, there’s the clink of a lighter as Yoongi lights a cigarette.
You lower the binoculars.
‘I guess that’s that.’
Seokjin lowers his own binoculars.
‘Guess so.’
‘Your boyfriend’s a good cop,’ Yoongi remarks.
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you reply.
Yoongi’s dark eyes fix on you with interest, but all he does is hum, noncommittal.
It’s barely a quarter of an hour before a car pulls up to the summit, parks beside Seokjin’s.
Jimin steps out, still in his regs, a sight for sore eyes.
He looks tired, but he smiles when he sees you.
‘We’ve got him,’ he tells you.
‘We saw,’ you say.
‘I’ve got to go down to the precinct, then they’re sending me down to Gwangju.’
He hesitates. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It could be months.’
You reach out and give him a hug.
He smells faintly of sweat and gunmetal, and you think you like it.
‘I guess you should call me when you’re next in town then,’ you tell him, close so only he can hear.
Jimin turns his head, lets his lips brush your cheek.
‘Is that an invitation, princess?’
‘Take it however you want it,’ you reply.
Jimin laughs. ‘I will.’
He gives you a look so heated your skin warms. He nods at Seokjin and Yoongi, gets back in the car.
You all watch him drive off.
Yoongi finishes his cigarette, grinds it into the dirt at his feet.
‘Dinner?’ Seokjin suggests.
‘Yeah,’ you agree.
Yoongi curls his lip at you, that familiar slow smirk that makes your heart skip a beat.
‘Wanna ride, princess?’
Seokjin rolls his eyes. ‘See you guys at the restaurant.’
You guess he really is the best brother ever.
©hamsterclaw 2023
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rumor has it
synopsis: rumor has it that yu jimin, straight A student and the star captain of the university's volleyball team, has only gotten to where she is through cheating and bribery. now, she's your partner for a final paper.
pairing: uni student jimin x uni student fem!reader
warnings: cursing
word count: 9.5k
notes: this is my first time uploading a piece on any media platform. feedback and comments are much appreciated!
the buzz of the students in the lecture hall dies down immediately as dr. kim, your english professor, walks in. you find your seat beside your best friend aeri and uncap your pen, ready to take notes. aeri, however, has different plans and rests her head on her arms, ready to catch up on sleep for the next hour. it isn't her fault that the university thought an 8 am english class was a great idea.
"good morning, class. let’s begin today’s lecture," dr. kim's voice echoes. with those words, you begin jotting down the professor's key points, making sure your handwriting is clear, knowing that the sleeping girl beside you will be asking for your notes later.
throughout the lecture, you can't resist sneaking glances at the girl two rows ahead of you. yu jimin sits there, in all her glory. you don’t know many people at this university, but it's nearly impossible not to recognize jimin.
her face adorns bulletin boards all over campus, celebrating her role as the victorious captain of the volleyball team that clinched the national championship for the university. from life-sized cutouts of her and the team placed around various corners to her frequent appearances on the university’s instagram story, it's harder to evade her presence than to acknowledge it.
although you aren't particularly interested in sports, you can't help but admit that she is extremely attractive. however, you’ve heard numerous stories about jimin's infamous reputation, primarily from the napping girl beside you. apparently, jimin is a rude and overall unpleasant person who got her high grades thanks to bribery and cheating.
an hour drifts by, and finally, dr. kim speaks the much-awaited words, "alright, class. i believe that concludes today’s session."
before you can pack your bag and make fun of your friend for drooling, dr. kim interjects, "oh, before i dismiss you, i'd like to announce that the final paper is approaching. it will be a paired effort." a glance between you and aeri implies your agreement to be partners.
"i will be assigning the pairs randomly," the professor states, pausing to allow the students to voice their groans and complaints.
"is she serious?" aeri asks you in a hushed voice. however, it wasn’t quiet enough.
"yes, miss uchinaga. i am indeed serious," you stifle a laugh as your best friend's ears turn crimson.
"as i was saying, this final paper will be done in pairs that i will randomly assign. you are all adults, and it's important to learn how to collaborate with people you don’t know. this paper will facilitate that skill." it takes all your restraint not to roll your eyes. it's way too early to be doing this.
“when i call your name, come up to my desk and pick a piece of paper from this box which has the names of everyone in this class. show me the piece of paper and i’ll announce it. if it’s your own name, you can draw again.” dr. kim looks around to make sure the class understands the instructions.
“it seems like everyone has understood so we’ll begin. miss uchinaga and miss y/l/n, why don’t you do the honors and pick out your pairs first.”
you and a much more awake aeri begin walking to the front, not missing the way jimin’s eyes quickly meet yours. maybe you just need some sleep just like aeri.
with a sigh, aeri goes first and is paired with the girl who is sitting on the right of jimin, a girl with the name ning yizhuo. she seems nice enough with the way she smiles at aeri when she hears her name.
you go up to the box and rummage through its contents. stopping at what you feel is an appropriate time, you unfold the paper and show it to your professor.
“it seems like ms. y/l/n’s partner for the final paper is yu jimin,” you make eye contact with her as the professor calls her name, and you give her a tight-lipped smile. she meets your eyes and only gives you a small nod. you and aeri go back to your seats.
as the professor continues to announce pairs, you notice a mix of expressions – excitement and disappointment – on the faces of your classmates. some seem genuinely happy with their partners, while others exchange anxious glances.
“i am giving you all 2 months to work on this paper. please do not procrastinate. this is a major paper, and your grade on it will have an immense effect on your final grade overall,” dr. kim announces before she leaves the room.
the buzz of the students in the lecture hall continues once more, with the majority of the class talking to their partners. you take a quick look at your partner, who was still sitting next to what seemed to be two of her close friends, one of which was aeri’s partner and the other was a girl named minjeong, her co-captain.
“i’m scared,” you tell your best friend. “what if she makes me do all the work?”
“hey, don’t judge a book by its cover – or i guess a person by their rumors,” aeri says, getting up from her chair.
“you’re the one who told me those rumors in the first place!”
“i would say i was spreading valuable information, not rumors,” aeri reasons as you both begin walking to exit the front door of the lecture hall.
before you both could step out the door, you feel a tap on your shoulder. you turn around, not expecting a certain raven-haired girl to be the one behind you.
“hi, y/n. i’m jimin,” she introduces herself to you bluntly without a smile on her face, how welcoming. before replying, you nod goodbye to aeri, encouraging her to go on without you.
“nice to meet you, jimin.” it was your first time talking to this girl, but immediately you could feel the pressure of her presence. you could barely look her in the eyes.
“here’s my number,” jimin hands you her phone with her contact information bright on the screen. “i have another class after this, but i’ll text you so that we can meet and talk about the paper.”
you nod, pulling out your phone and copying the numbers from her screen onto yours.
putting her phone back into her pocket, jimin begins walking out of the room with her two friends trailing not so far behind her.
“oh, and by the way, y/n,” jimin stops in her steps and stares you down in the eyes, “i won’t make you do all the work. i don’t trust you enough with my grades.”
you stand there, mouth slightly agape and face hot from embarrassment, watching the three girls walk out of your sight.
fuck.
"y/n, it's not that bad," aeri attempts to comfort you as she took a bite of her sandwich. hours had passed since you were paired with jimin, and now you found yourself in a university common space, trying to have lunch with aeri. however, the embarrassment from your earlier encounter was dampening your appetite.
"she probably hates me now, i can feel it," you sighed dramatically, plopping your head onto the cold table.
"what you're feeling is probably hunger. eat," aeri said, digging through your bag to retrieve your packed lunch. “it’s not your fault you didn’t know she had superhuman hearing,” aeri tries to make light of the situation.
"she's going to tell all her followers that i'm an asshole, and i'm somehow going to get expelled from this university," you exclaim with an exaggerated groan.
you're well aware you're being overly dramatic, but considering the rigorous academic demands of this university and the looming assignments, papers, and tests from multiple classes, your nerves are at an all-time high.
"first of all, calm down," aeri set her sandwich aside. "second, i know i'm the one who keeps you updated with all the campus gossip since you're practically a dorm hermit. but seriously, rumors are just rumors."
you didn't understand why she had to point out your introverted, homebody habits. "you should just let go of those rumors and form your own opinion about her once you actually get to know her."
you don't reply as you open up your lunch and began taking small bites. that was one of your biggest dilemmas. if you looked up "opinionated" in the dictionary, it would feature your face as an antonym.
always going with the flow, never wanting to stand out or have a loud presence, you'd rather take what you're given than go out and seek something yourself. hell, you couldn't even form an opinion on a tiktok without first checking the comments to see what the majority of viewers thought.
before you could spiral deeper into your thoughts, your phone vibrates.
yu jimin
this is jimin.
i’m free at 3 pm today. let’s meet at the library if you’re free too.
“who’s that,” aeri asks as she notices your eyes skimming over your phone. “it’s jimin, she wants to meet at the library later today,” you answer.
y/n
hi, jimin.
i’m free. i’ll see you then.
“ugh, i don’t want to go,” you complain to aeri.
“y/n, are you hearing yourself?” your best friend gives you a deadpan look, “this paper is worth more than half of our final grade. if you fail this paper, you’re going to fail the class.”
the weight of her words sinks in, and you're reminded of the possible consequences of not taking the paper seriously. of course, you knew that you had no choice but to go and work with the infamous volleyball team captain. while you were still quite mortified from your earlier interaction with her, you didn’t want to fail out of college just yet.
only the distant hum of quiet conversations and the faint rustle of pages moving could be heard as you enter the library.
as you weave your way through the bookshelves toward the back, you finally lay eyes on the person you were looking for. jimin is focused on whatever content is displayed on her laptop. you can't help but notice her furrowed brows and the subtle movement of her lips as she reads the text in a hushed voice. the sun's rays cast a gentle glow on the contours of her face, accentuating her features.
curse this university for having naturally well-lit buildings.
you gently tap her shoulder, careful not to startle the focused girl. you wish you could say that her expression softened the moment she turned and spotted you, but if anything, her features seemed to tighten. this was going to be a fun time.
“hi,” you say quietly to jimin as you sit down in the open chair in front of her.
"let's begin," she immediately suggests while you retrieve your laptop from your bag. "i understand that we could work on this individually in separate places since we both have access to this document, but i personally prefer collaborating face-to-face with my partner, especially for a final paper." you give a nod in agreement to jimin's proposal.
for the next hour, you and jimin discuss only the paper's details, staying firmly on the subject of your final paper. she has already outlined the content the two of you will cover, assigned each of you specific sections to write, and established a schedule for completing each part.
at one point, she asks, "what do you think? you haven't said a word about anything i’ve mentioned." her eyes remain fixed on the shared document displayed on both your screens, with a majority of the content coming from jimin.
"i mean, i'm fine with whatever," you reply. in group papers, you've never been inclined to voice your opinions or contribute ideas. don’t get it wrong, you're certainly not a freeloader, but you've never assumed the role of a group leader either.
"not even a single suggestion or comment?" she finally lifts her gaze from her laptop, locking eyes with you. you instantly break the brief eye contact you shared.
"no, i’ll give you some if i come up with any. besides, we still have 2 months ahead to tackle this paper," you explain, trying to reason with her. she releases a deep sigh and shifts her focus back to her laptop.
she clearly isn't your biggest fan.
"i think that's all we should do today. we've got a solid plan in place, and we can use the upcoming days to gradually work on this paper," she informs you, sliding her laptop into her bag.
you nod, following suit and tidying up your side of the table.
"i have classes from 8 am until 3 pm back-to-back," jimin rises from her seat and pushes her chair in. "i've got volleyball practice every day of the week, starting at 4 pm, except for wednesdays and thursdays." you raise your eyebrows at the mention of her grueling schedule.
“so, we can meet at the library on wednesdays and thursdays after my last class, which is at 3 pm," she looks at you, and you get the feeling that she's not suggesting a meet-up but rather informing you that it's already arranged.
“sounds good with me, i’m free those days as well,” you inform her with the awareness that she had already assumed so.
as she turns to leave, a feeling inside you compels you to apologize for the comment you made about her to aeri in the lecture hall earlier. but before you can muster the courage to do so, she's already gone.
for the next two weeks, you and jimin meet up at the library on wednesdays and thursdays. while you still saw her during your 8 am class, she was only focused on the lecture or in conversations solely with yizhuo and minjeong. however, in the privacy of the library, your interactions with her only happen through the shared online document where your collaborative work took place.
actual conversations, if they could even be labeled as such, between the two of you were few and far between. the only topic that managed to breach the silence was the ongoing discussion about the final paper.
during lunch, you update aeri about your library sessions with jimin. between bites of food, you express your worry, "i honestly don't know how i'll survive working with her for the next two months. it's not that she's a bad partner or anything. i just feel so awkward around her, like i want to disappear into the ground every time we're in that library."
aeri raises an eyebrow and helps herself to a piece of your food. "have you ever tried having a conversation that’s not about the paper with her? maybe if you initiate something, she'll actually have a real conversation with you."
thinking about it now, you realize that you've never actually initiated a conversation with jimin throughout the weeks of meeting up. it's always been her leading the discussions about the paper while you simply go along with whatever tasks need completing.
you sigh, setting down your utensils. "she probably can't stand me."
aeri counters with an exclamation, "she doesn't even know you! besides, she's not exactly a nobody on this campus. she's likely heard worse things from others. i doubt she even remembers whatever you said, considering her only focus is volleyball and school."
"sometimes, i really hate how you're right," you grumble, starting to clean up your lunch.
aeri smirks, taking the last bite of her food. "which is pretty much all the time."
with aeri’s words in mind, you walk into the library a little bit after 3 pm to where you and jimin sat. as per usual, jimin was already there with her laptop out, typing away.
"hey," you say in a hushed tone as you sit down. "i swung by the campus cafe before heading here and picked up a little something for you." you hold out a brown paper bag across the table, containing a warm muffin.
"food isn't allowed in the library," she remarks, not even lifting her gaze from her laptop.
you inhale sharply, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. before you can pull your arm back, she reaches for the bag.
"but still, thank you. i'll save this for later," jimin looks up and offers you a nod with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “let’s get to work.”
around 30 minutes pass by and the silence has enveloped the two of you as it usually does in your meetings.
you stop your typing, that familiar feeling in your stomach urging you to break the silence. you find yourself wondering, what's the point? like aeri mentioned, jimin has probably heard worse things, and once this paper is finished, she'll likely forget all about you. after all, you're just another face in the crowd to her.
from the corner of your eye, you catch jimin glancing your way, noticing your sudden pause and distant expression.
“y/n,” she calls out, her voice pulling you back to the present moment.
you snap your attention to her. “yes?” you shake your head in an attempt to stop being swallowed by your thoughts. “did you say something?”
she raises an eyebrow, her gaze attentive. “that was the fifth time i tried getting your attention. are you alright?” you want to believe that there’s some sort of concern behind her question rather than just an act of common human decency.
“oh, yeah. my bad. i’m just tired. didn’t get much sleep last night,” you excuse. it wasn’t the truth but it wasn’t a complete lie either.
“that’s understandable, this semester is crazy,” jimin replies to you turning her focus back to her laptop.
"you're probably having the craziest semester out of any student here on campus," you remark, surprising yourself with the sudden courage to continue the conversation.
"what makes you say that?" jimin pauses in her work to look at you.
"i mean, i may not have the best knowledge of university sports, but even i know that being a team captain isn’t necessarily an easy responsibility. much less being the captain of a team with a national championship title under its belt," you explain. "plus, you have back-to-back classes from 8 am to 3 pm every day, and i assume you’re doing well in them, given the quality of your work in our shared class alone."
she lets out a quiet laugh - that was the first time you've heard it. "are you sure you’re not just making wild assumptions?"
your palms start to get sweaty, and you feel like you’ve definitely made a mistake. "i’m sorry-"
"i’m just joking," jimin interrupts you. "it’s absolutely not an easy schedule, but if you have to do it, you find a way. yizhuo and minjeong help me out a lot too."
"what do you mean 'have' to?" you silently curse at yourself for prying into her personal life.
"this is the most i’ve heard you talk, y/n," jimin says to you.
"i could say the same to you," you reply. "but, uh, don’t answer if you don’t want to, or if it’s too pers-"
jimin interrupts you once more. "it’s okay. i don’t mind. i prefer when people actually want to get to know me rather than making crazy assumptions that aren't true at all."
a twinge of guilt washes over you. even though you're disconnected from the campus social life, jimin's reputation has managed to reach your ears. many things have been circulated about her – from her attitude to her accolades, and even details about her love life, none of which appeared positive.
"back when i was younger," jimin begins, her vulnerability taking you by surprise, "my parents pushed me incredibly hard to excel in school. naturally, like most parents, they had aspirations for my success. they enrolled me in after-school tutoring to make sure i did better than all the kids in my grade. they also encouraged me to choose an extracurricular activity so that i’m not always buried in books. that's when i chose volleyball, obviously."
you absorb each word she says, intent on not missing a single one. here was yu jimin herself, an enigma of existence - simultaneously adored and despised. and now, right before you, she opens up and shares her story. the reason for her trust in you to this extent, allowing herself to be vulnerable, confuses you, yet you don’t mind at all.
“i have an older sister. she’s a hotshot lawyer now. she did well in high school and did very well in college unsurprisingly,” jimin shares and you notice a gleam of admiration in her eyes. “our parents never compared us to one another and we’re actually really close. besides yizhuo and minjeong, she’s one of the few people i can call my best friend.” you nod as she continues telling her story.
"my parents stopped pushing me so hard in high school," jimin continues, her eyes fixed on you to see if you’re still listening. you are. "they believed that i needed to find motivation within myself and take charge of my actions so that i wouldn't become overly dependent on them."
"so, no, my origin story isn't about parental pressure or living up to my sister's achievements. i believe i have to do well because... i want to. i have this belief that i'm destined for greatness, so i'll dedicate everything i can to achieving it,” jimin’s gaze turns serious. “even if it means having to deal with people who want to spread nasty rumors about me.”
you sit there in silent awe. you realize jimin was your complete opposite. jimin embodies a sense of ambition and dedication that you rarely exhibit. while you've often approached situations with passivity, avoiding confrontation, jimin radiates an unwavering pursuit of her goals.
the aspiration for greatness was something unfamiliar to you. your goals were straightforward – passing your classes, securing a well-paying job for the future, ensuring financial stability, and enjoying the company of your friends. as long as you had that, you were more than happy.
"what about you, y/n?" jimin's question breaks the quiet focus, both your laptops now lowered.
"what do you mean?" you ask, the confusion apparent on your face.
"i just shared something quite personal and vulnerable about myself. wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same?" jimin replies casually.
pausing, you contemplate your response. "i don't think i truly know myself."
jimin arches an eyebrow at your revelation. "what i mean is, i'm not sure who i am. throughout most of my life, i've mostly gone along with aeri, letting her lead me to new places and experiences. but i haven't really discovered a genuine passion for anything."
"i realize now how sad that sounds, especially to you, considering you're the complete opposite of that description," you continue, your voice steady. "but, despite it all, i'm still leading a pretty happy life. i've come this far, haven't i?"
jimin responds to your rhetorical question, her tone measured and thoughtful. "just because our ideals differ doesn't mean i can't accept your perspective. it's called empathy, y/n. i don't need to share your beliefs to understand where you’re coming from."
in that very moment, you feel the foundation of your assumptions about jimin, based on the rumors, begin to crumble.
"life isn't a competition, and you're absolutely right. if you're content and your actions aren't causing harm, doesn't that define a good life in itself?" jimin's words resonate with you.
as the sunset's warm glow graces jimin’s face, you find yourself thinking about how this girl in front of you has it all. no wonder she’s the topic of everyone’s conversations. her beauty is undeniable, she’s intellectually sharp, athletically skilled - she personifies an array of qualities that capture attention.
"thanks, jimin. your words mean a lot," you express, hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. "i've been wondering about something, though."
jimin responds, her curiosity piqued. "what's on your mind?"
"why did you feel so comfortable sharing that part of your life with me? don't get me wrong, i'm more than happy to listen, but we're practically strangers, and you opened up to me so easily."
jimin's gaze shifts toward the expansive windows. "like i mentioned earlier, it's a refreshing feeling when someone genuinely wants to know about my life, rather than blindly believing all those damaging rumors. believe me, i've heard them all, and most are far from pleasant."
before you could give her a reply, the librarian approaches your table. "excuse me, ladies. the library will be closing in 10 minutes. it's a good idea to start wrapping up and make your way back to your dorms," she advises with a warm smile, then walks away.
over the weeks you’ve been meeting with jimin in the library, you gradually get to know each other better. your talks shift from just focusing on the paper to real conversations. occasionally, you even end up talking more than working.
you find out that jimin is a big fan of anime. one of her favorites is "assassination classroom," and it made her cry. you’ve watched it before too, making you sob your heart out into your pillow after finishing it.
with a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips, jimin confesses, "i've never really had the chance to explore many hobbies outside of volleyball. but i've always used anime to unwind and relax.”
you also learn more about her sister – you can't miss how her eyes light up whenever she talks about her. you discover that she has terrible eyesight and wears contacts every day since it would be impractical to wear glasses to volleyball practice.
you begin feeling a sense of connection as she opens up to you about her interests and her life. it's a side of her you never expected to see – a vulnerable, relatable side that defies the rumors and preconceptions you once held.
in return, you find that jimin learns more about you. you share that you and aeri have been best friends since childhood. during one conversation, you share a memorable experience from your past: the time you and aeri got lost on a mountain during a family vacation hike.
"how are you both still alive?" jimin questions, her words laced with a mix of humor and genuine shock.
"to this day, we still have no idea," you reply, chuckling at the expression on her face.
she learns that you’re an avid film watcher after you start giving her detailed film recommendations when she asked you what would be a good movie to watch for a girls night in with yizhuo and minjeong.
as you walk from your dorm to your 8 am class, which you share with aeri, jimin, and her friends, you pass by a group of students. normally, you would quickly walk past them, not caring about the nonsense they'd be talking about. however, that changed when they mentioned someone you knew.
"did you guys hear that jimin is sleeping with her best friend's ex behind her back?" the person who seemed to be the ringleader of the group shared, as the other students around them snickered. "isn't she such a backstabbing bitch? i also heard that the only reason she got a perfect score on that exam that everyone else failed was that she slept with that professor."
you slow your steps, listening to the lies spewing from their mouths. over the past weeks, you've learned so much about jimin, enough to know that none of what they're saying is true. you're extremely aggravated at their words. plus, who the hell has this much energy to be so negative even before 8 in the morning?
a part of you wants to ignore it and walk into your class. that would be the easiest option. haven't you always liked your life that way - easy and devoid of confrontation?
which is why you're extremely shocked when you find yourself standing in front of the instigator, going head-to-head with them.
"excuse me? have you ever heard of personal space?" they snide, making the other students around them laugh as well.
"have you ever heard of shutting the fuck up and minding your own business?” you don't know why, but the next sensation you register is solid bone connecting with your knuckles, knocking the ringleader out.
"does anyone have anything else to say?" you say through gritted teeth, the ache in your knuckles resonating alongside the rapid thumping of your heart.
the mouths of the students around the unconscious ringleader drop. before anyone can say anything, you hear someone's voice.
"y/n!" aeri yells and grabs your arm, dragging you away from the group of students and into a private hallway near the lecture hall. next to her is her partner for the paper, yizhuo, along with minjeong and, of course, jimin herself.
"what happened?" asks one person from the group. you're unsure who.
"are you okay?" says another person - you still don't know who's talking.
"why did you do that?" questions a third voice. you're wondering the same thing. everything was blurry, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. your chest was heavy, and the burning sensation in your knuckles was bothering you beyond words.
it's so early, just 8 in the morning, and here you were, out of your mind. they help you sit down on a bench.
"you three go to class," the fourth voice tells the others. "i'll handle this."
"are you sure?" you register a figure nod at the question and then hear footsteps walking away from where you were.
"y/n, you need to take deep breaths and calm down, okay? you're safe. nothing bad is going to happen to you right now," the voice assures. their words help you see clearly again.
with a shaky voice, you ask, "jimin? what are you doing here? you're going to be late for class."
"the lowest grade i’ve made in that class for the whole semester was a 98, i'm sure i can miss one lecture," she says jokingly, and you notice she's trying to lighten the atmosphere. "i never knew you had a solid punch like that."
"i didn't either," you let out a breath of disbelief. "something just came over me, and i couldn't stop myself."
"what happened? that's probably the last thing i thought you'd do," jimin asks, holding your hands to steady them, with a much looser grip on the injured one that you used to knock that annoying student out.
a moment passes before you try to explain. "they were talking... about you," you hesitate. jimin raises an eyebrow. "that person was saying terrible things about you, and they were all lies!" your voice gets louder. "all lies, jimin."
"i might not be yizhuo or minjeong, but after getting to know you these past 2 months, i felt like i had to do something. i wanted to defend you, even though you probably didn't need it," you ramble, not stopping. jimin listens carefully.
"i couldn't just walk away. i usually would, but... i couldn’t this time. they were saying horrible lies. it was so wrong," you exhale deeply, realizing you were holding your breath. "i hated hearing that about my friend."
before you can apologize for assuming your closeness, jimin's lips curl into a smile. "thanks, y/n. i really appreciate you standing up for me. i really do."
she looks you in the eyes, and you can feel the gratitude radiating from her. "i've grown thick skin to the rumors, and they don't bother me as much as they used to when i first started hearing about them, so you don't need to worry about me."
"still, i'm very grateful to know that i have a friend like you who would defend me to that extent. but next time, just ignore them. i wouldn't want you getting expelled from the university just because of those lifeless losers," she smiles at you, and you feel a tug on your heart.
you nod, not sure what to say. "my hand hurts so bad," you manage a laugh despite the pain.
"let's get you an ice pack from the clinic," jimin helps you up, going with you. she holds your hand all the way until the clinic staff hands you an ice pack, but you're too focused on your hurting hand to notice.
that day, jimin learns that while you label yourself as non-confrontational and passive, you’re empathetic, loyal, and kind.
you meet up with aeri in the cafeteria for lunch. she glances at your bruised hand and the icepack you hold in the other hand.
“hey, y/n, is your dad a boxer? because you’re a total knockout!” aeri laughs at her own joke.
“you’re not getting any of my lunch today,” you say with feigned annoyance.
“no! i’m sorry!”
the realization comes at you out of nowhere while you're in the library with jimin, finalizing the remaining parts of the paper. as you steal a glance over the edge of your laptop, you observe jimin with furrowed brows, her tongue peeking out in concentration, and her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. she tells you its because she couldn’t find her contacts this morning.
it’s raining outside with dark and gloomy skies, casting a dim ambiance over the library. despite it all, jimin shines in your eyes. it’s been like this ever since the incident. you’re extremely thankful that no person of authority caught wind of the situation. you're even more appreciative that despite the confrontation that led to you knocking out a fellow student, you weren’t expelled.
jimin has always possessed a beauty that captivates you. but now, you couldn’t see anyone else but her. whenever you're with her, your heart races, your hands sweat, and your stomach twists. you're not sure why. it's an uncomfortable feeling, yet you don't hate it. instead, you welcome it. you swear you can feel her eyes on you at times. or maybe it’s just sleep deprivation.
it’s when she calls your name, "y/n," you lift your gaze, meeting her eyes. they shine brightly despite the darkness in the building, her hair framing her face exquisitely. "i really liked your latest addition to our paper. i think it really captures what dr. kim is looking for," she says, a smile gracing her lips. in that moment, that’s when it hits you.
she really liked your work and you really liked jimin.
“aeri, i don’t know what to do," you muffle into your pillow. the two of you are currently in your dorm, a space free of roommates thanks to your parents' decision to splurge a little.
"just tell her you like her," aeri offers a solution to your current dilemma, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
"that's insane. i could never do that!" you shift onto your back, still laying in bed, and glance at aeri, who's absorbed in her phone and helping herself to snacks from your fridge.
"that's not insane. you want to know what's insane? walking up to a stranger and knocking them out before 8 in the morning. that's insane," aeri retorts.
you toss a pillow at her, not truly irritated because her point was pretty valid.
"y/n, just be honest with her. if she feels the same, great! if not, it's not the end of everything," aeri speaks with sincerity, finally raising her gaze. deep down, you acknowledge that aeri's advice is good, great even. it's also the most sensible approach.
you don’t listen to it at all.
with less than a week left before the final paper's due date, you have two more library meetings with jimin and see her in your english class every tuesday and thursday. despite these many chances to talk to her, you try to completely avoid her.
you fail in doing so. although you avoid her eyes during the 8 am class, rushing out with aeri to prevent any conversations, the final paper still needs to be finished.
this meeting feels reminiscent of the initial paper discussions, where conversations centered solely on the final paper. you avoid looking at her, which is out of the ordinary since you spent most of these meetings simply looking at her.
"are you okay?" jimin's face shows concern, her question directed at you.
"yeah, just feeling tired," you respond with the same excuse. it’s become a reflex at this point.
“alright,” jimin replies to what you assume was the end of the conversation. “so, can you tell me why you’re avoiding me?” damn.
“what do you mean?” you try and play it dumb, but even you couldn’t believe yourself.
"i'm not stupid, y/n. why are you so distant all of a sudden? i thought we'd moved past that after all this time," jimin studies you, her expression unyielding.
you quickly attempt to come up with a lie. "i'm sorry, jimin. i've just been swamped with finals from other classes, and my grades are really low. i need to do well on them to avoid failing," you deliver the excuse, hoping it sounds convincing enough.
fortunately, jimin seems to believe it, her expression easing. "i’m sorry for assuming it had something to do with me. i'm used to being at the center of problems most of the time,” there’s a hint of playfulness in her tone, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
guilt engulfs you as you face her. you're strongly tempted to just tell her the truth.
"no need to apologize, jimin. it's not your fault at all. it's mine for procrastinating on my other assignments," you offer a smile.
that night, you struggle to fall asleep as you overthink the potential outcomes of confessing - or not confessing - your feelings for jimin. the most extreme scenario that haunts your mind is her hating you and refusing to speak to you ever again. you don’t sleep at all that night.
you're standing in line at the campus cafe, desperately in need of a caffeine boost before your 8 am class. your phone displays aeri's message specifying the coffee she wants. you try to blink away the sleepiness with little success.
"y/n?" a tap on your shoulder startles you, and you turn to find yizhuo and minjeong behind you in line.
momentarily taken aback, you don't respond immediately, processing which one of them tapped you.
"you look like you got run over by a truck. are you okay?" yizhuo's concern is evident.
"yiz, you can't just say that! i'm sorry, she doesn't mean it negatively, i promise," minjeong interjects, playfully slapping yizhuo's shoulder.
despite your fatigue, a soft chuckle escapes you at their antics. "it's alright, i understand. i pulled an all-nighter last night studying for an upcoming exam." the lies come more easily now.
"oh, yeah. jimin's told us that you've been working hard lately," yizhuo shares, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. jimin talks about you?
"jimin always talks about you! we had a movie night last weekend, and she made us watch a film because she said you recommended it," minjeong adds, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.
"how did you guys like it?" you ask, still surprised that jimin talks about you.
"we loved it. you have really good taste!" yizhuo's enthusiasm is unexpected, especially before 8 am.
"you and aeri should join us one of these nights. jimin would love to have you over. maybe after finals or after our game on friday? we can order pizza and snacks for dinner," minjeong suggests.
“plus, it can be be a little celebration for submitting dr. kim’s final paper and surviving her class,” yizhuo adds.
minjeong's invitation sounds far more appealing than your usual friday night, which typically involves binge-watching anime or kdramas in your dorm, sometimes with aeri if she doesn't have a party to attend. "sounds great, just text me the details."
finally at the cashier, you place orders for both your coffee and aeri's coffee. after a short wait, you receive your drinks and wait for yizhuo and minjeong. together, you enter your 8 am english class and send a small smile toward jimin before taking your seat next to aeri at the back.
today marks your final meeting with jimin in the library for this paper. the paper is fully completed, and the only task left is proofreading the sections.
"jimin, i have a question," you begin.
"about the paper?" she looks up from her laptop, meeting your gaze. you still can’t decide if her love for eye contact is a blessing or a curse.
"no, not about the paper. i just want some advice."
"oh?"
"it's nothing too heavy, i promise." you briefly glance down at your laptop's keyboard before returning your attention to her. "have you ever felt scared?"
"many times, yes," she replies. "but i thought you said this wasn't going to get heavy?" jimin's tone carries a playful note.
"it won't! i was just curious… how do you get over fear?" you ask earnestly.
"well, if i’m scared and it's a matter of my own safety, i avoid it. i have too much to live for," jimin senses the seriousness in your tone and tries to lighten the mood. "but if the fear stems from the possibility of failing or not achieving something, i tend to just disregard it and overcome it."
"if i let fear dictate my actions every time, i wouldn't be here today. i probably wouldn't have even picked up a volleyball. i might've dropped out the moment people started saying hurtful things about me," jimin muses, delving deep into thought.
"yes, certain things can be scary, but it's scarier to miss out on opportunities because fear is holding you back," jimin concludes her response.
a moment of silence passes. "you could give a ted talk with answers like that," you quip.
she playfully swats your hand. "finish proofreading your sections. we're almost done with this paper."
two hours pass, and you lean back in your chair. "i close my eyes, and all i see are punctuation marks," you groan.
"well, here's some good news. we can email this to dr. kim tomorrow during her office hours and officially put our final paper for this class behind us," jimin's enthusiasm is evident.
"so, no more library meetings, huh?" you sit up straight.
"no, but we'll still be seeing each other often. are you coming to movie night tomorrow?" jimin questions, tidying up her side of the table.
"i am," you reply, closing your laptop.
"don't tell me you plan on treating me like a stranger after we submit this paper," jimin jokes, standing up and collecting her bag.
"i would never," you respond.
she chuckles at your remark before reaching into her bag. "are you hungry?"
you walk alongside jimin. "a bit. i'm heading to aeri's dorm for dinner. she cooked japanese food for us."
"i'd think you two were roommates," jimin tells you as she pulls a brown paper bag from her backpack.
"well, considering how often she's at my place, i can see why. but no, we're not. she lives right across the hall," you explain.
"here," she hands you the paper bag. "take this. the girls and i went to an off-campus restaurant for lunch earlier, and i thought of getting you something as a small thank you."
"thank you? for what?" you inquire while accepting the bag.
"for being an amazing partner on this paper, of course. i've got to go. yiz and i have plans. i'll text you tomorrow about when to submit the paper," she informs you.
assuming she's about to walk in the opposite direction, jimin surprises you by enveloping you in a warm hug. naturally, you reciprocate.
"i'll see you tomorrow!" jimin calls out, walking out of your sight.
at aeri’s dorm, you devour the food that she’s prepared for you. “this is so good. have i ever told you that i’m so glad you’re my best friend?” you tell her through bites of food.
“only when i cook for you. now, close your mouth and chew properly. i don’t know how to do the heimlich maneuver.” aeri looks at the brown paper bag by your feet and points to it. “what’s that?”
“i think it’s a dessert or something that jimin got me.” you notice the look on aeri’s face. “don’t even start. it was just a little thank you for helping on that final paper.”
“i didn’t say anything. i might need to get yiz a little something too, considering what a great partner she's been," she teases
“ugh, whatever.” you finish your meal and share the slice of cake jimin got you with aeri.
later that night, as you lie in bed, jimin's words echo in your mind.
fear holds you back. fear holds you back. fear holds you back.
you open your eyes to the grating sound of your alarm the next morning and see a notification from jimin.
yu jimin
hey, good morning
just a reminder to email your copy of the paper to dr. kim at 8 am!
have a great day ahead :)
y/n
good morning
will do
have a great day as well
before you leave your dorm, you open your laptop and schedule send your copy of the final paper to dr. kim for 8 am.
making your way to class, you spot a poster on a campus bulletin board.
"i think fearless is having fears but jumping anyway." huh? your confusion lessens as you realize it's an ad for the swiftie club on campus. you can't help but question why they'd position their ad right next to jimin's volleyball photo.
before entering the lecture hall for your biology class, another banner catches your eye.
"do not be afraid." what's with all these posters? you realize you hadn't finished reading it. "do not be afraid… to join us in the bible study club!" why do all these clubs insist on placing their endorsements next to the volleyball team's photos?
you could barely focus during the biology lecture, only hearing fragments of the professor's words. that is, until the professor singles you out, "miss y/n, why are you afraid?"
"excuse me, professor?" to say you're surprised would be an understatement.
"i asked you a question," the professor's expression turns unpleasant. "why do cells degrade?" there's no doubt you're losing your mind.
thankful that you won't see jimin until later, you use your free time to calm down and regain your composure.
walking through the university building's halls, you accidentally collide with an enthusiastic student. "have you ever been rejected?"
"what?" you react with genuine surprise.
"we're conducting a focus group discussion for our thesis on people who've experienced rejection. if you fit the criteria, your participation would be appreciated," the student hands you a pamphlet.
"oh, no thank you." you brush past the dejected student. spotting an empty hallway bench, you sit down, putting your head into your hands. it's as if you're spiraling into insanity.
what exactly are you afraid of? rejection? embarrassment?
all your life you’ve done nothing but run away from your problems. always finding the easy way out of everything. you’ve never wanted to face any problem or challenge head-on, deeming them unworthy of the trouble and effort.
lifting your head from your hands, you slump into the bench, trying to break free from your unhealthy mindset.
that’s when the realization finally comes to you.
jimin is worth it. she's worth every bit of trouble in the world. she's worth every second of your time. she's worth it all.
you rise from the bench, your feet moving faster than your brain. inside the university gymnasium, students stream out of the volleyball courts, signaling the end of the game. quickly heading to the back where the locker rooms are, you spot minjeong outside.
"y/n? what brings you here? i didn't see you during the game," minjeong questions, looking at your disheveled appearance.
breathless, you hadn't realized you were running. "not at the game…" you struggle for air, "jimin…" you hunch over, attempting to regulate your breathing. "where?"
minjeong places a hand on your back. "before you go looking for her, make sure you don't faint right now," she advises. it's amusing, really, the volleyball player who just finished a game telling you to relax.
"she's in the back of the locker room. she's alone in there since everyone else quickly left because it’s a friday night," minjeong informs you. "only athletes are allowed inside." a frustrated groan escapes you. "however, if it's important, i can pretend i never saw you go in," minjeong adds, a sly smile forming on her lips.
you've never set foot in the locker room before. the idea of being here seemed distant, even impossible. yet, you continue forward until you spot the one person who's been on your mind since the very first conversation.
"y/n? how did you manage to get in?" jimin's voice carries a mix of surprise and curiosity.
you're thankful for minjeong's advice to catch your breath. "minjeong let me in." jimin's face is flushed, an unmistakable sign that she gave her all on the court. despite the disheveled hair and the sheen of sweat, she remains the most beautiful person you've ever seen.
"what are you doing here?" jimin stands from the bench, turning toward you.
"i needed to tell you something, and i couldn't hold it back."
"what is it-"
"wait. let me say this all before you say anything else, or i might just black out and forget everything." you inhale deeply. "throughout my life, i've let fear dictate my choices. i've been nothing more than a coward. i couldn’t even take a stance in a tiktok argument. confrontation scared me, and i felt like i could never handle it."
"i was always scared," you press on, sensing jimin's eyes on you. "until i met you and got to know you." your mouth feels dry. "there are so many things i want to say, but i don't want it to sound corny," you chuckle, noticing jimin's smile forming.
"through you, i've learned the worth of ambition and dedication. you've shown me that fear is something that can help you become the person you want to be, not stop you from becoming it," you pause, then continue, "you've given me a new perspective i never thought i could ever have."
“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to talk this long,” you feel relieved as you see jimin laugh with you.
letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “i like you, jimin. i have feelings for you.”
a beat passes and she doesn’t say anything. each second that goes by, you feel the dread within you grow more and more. as you were about to open your mouth to apologize, you feel jimin grab your arm. in the hush that follows your confession, you feel a rush of nerves coursing through your veins. jimin's grip on your arm is firm yet strangely comforting, and her intense gaze never wavers from yours.
jimin's lips form into a gentle smile. "you really caught me off guard, y/n," she admits, her voice carrying a mixture of surprise and something you dare to hope might be fondness.
your lips quirk into a sheepish grin, your heart beginning to settle from the initial anxiety. "yeah, sorry about that. i didn't exactly plan to pour my heart out in the locker room."
jimin chuckles softly, her fingers lightly squeezing your arm. "well, i appreciate your honesty. it takes a lot of courage to say what you just did."
the warmth of her smile and the sincerity in her eyes encourage you. "you've been my inspiration for stepping out of my comfort zone," you confess, your voice steadier now. "i realized that i can't let fear hold me back anymore."
jimin's thumb draws a little pattern on your arm, sending shivers down your spine. "i'm glad to hear that. and you know what, y/n?" her gaze intensifies, a spark of playfulness dancing in her eyes. "i think it's only fair that i tell you something too."
your curiosity piques, your heart racing once again. "what is it?"
jimin's smile turns tender, and she takes a step closer, her free hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. "i like you too, y/n. more than you can imagine."
you’re not afraid anymore. with a gentle yet firm pull, you bring her even closer to you. with a surge of courage, you close the distance between your lips.
the kiss is gentle, tentative at first, as if both of you are savoring the reality of this long-awaited moment. jimin's lips are soft and warm against yours, and her fingers find their way to your cheek, holding you tenderly. your heart thrums in your chest, the world around you fading into a distant blur.
as the kiss deepens, the initial hesitance transforms into unspoken understanding. lips meld with lips, sending electric sensations through your veins. it's an intertwining of emotions and desires, a connection formed by your honest words and the silent longing that brought you to this moment.
when you finally pull away, your breaths mingle in the space between you. jimin's eyes are half-lidded, her lips still just a whisper away from yours. "i think you’re braver than you thought," she mumbles, her voice laced with newfound intimacy.
you share a breathless chuckle, your forehead resting against hers. “to be honest, i didn’t even think i’d make it this far.”
“are you guys done?” minjeong yells from the entrance of the locker room. “i’m hungry!”
both you and jimin share a laugh at minjeong. you reach for her bag and proceed to walk out of the locker room, your hands intertwined comfortably. together, you make your way to yizhuo's dorm, where aeri had already joined.
the soft glow of the television screen in the living room casts a gentle illumination on you and jimin, who are cozily seated on the couch. your hands are intertwined beneath a comfortable blanket, and a bowl of popcorn rests between you. the film playing on the screen has captured your undivided attention, while jimin is having trouble deciding either to watch the movie or you instead.
aeri and minjeong stand together at a distance, with yizhuo in her kitchen. the trio is busy preparing the remaining food to be served later in the night.
"i can't believe y/n actually did it. i can't believe your idea actually worked, minjeong," aeri whispers to the two girls.
"it was only a matter of time. i couldn't stand hearing jimin talk about her endlessly, looking like an oblivious lovesick puppy that was kicked onto the street," minjeong rolls her eyes at the memory of her friend. "i'm glad she finally admitted it to herself too."
"it wasn't minjeong's idea at all! it was my idea to go to the campus cafe that morning when you told us she'd be there," yizhuo points out. "plus, let's not take any credit from y/n. we may have given her some hope that jimin liked her, but at the end of the day, she was the one who made the move." aeri and minjeong nod, agreeing with yizhuo’s points.
“how’d you even know y/n was going to be at the cafe before class, aeri?” minjeong asks, finishing plating the dishes.
“she texted me she couldn’t sleep and asked if i wanted coffee before our 8 am class at 4 in the morning that day,” aeri explains.
“makes sense,” yizhuo points out.
the three girls make their way over to where you and jimin are seated, each holding plates of food in their hands. aeri takes the seat next to you, while minjeong and yizhuo settle on the floor amidst pillows and blankets, arranging the plates.
your gaze occasionally shifts from the movie playing to the people around you. there's a sense of contentment in this simple act – being in each other's presence, a shared moment that speaks volumes beyond words. back then, it was difficult for you to decide what you wanted and even what to think. now, looking around, you know for sure what you want.
you turn to face jimin when she squeezes your hand under the blanket. here she was, in all her glory.
you inch closer to her, resting your head on her shoulder. despite the gentle embrace of that moment, an urge runs through you - to dismantle each and every single dreadful rumor about jimin. she was more than just the petty and nasty words of thoughtless individuals who thrived on idle gossip.
in your eyes, she embodied all that was beautiful and kind in the world. with her by your side, fear dissolved into insignificance, its grip over you gone.
“i really like you,” you whisper, only for her to hear.
“i know. i really like you too,” she whispers back to you.
additional notes: it's my first time ever uploading a piece on any platform! i hope you all enjoyed reading. i don't really know how to work tumblr, i just want to share my writing lol. your comments and feedback are much appreciated! but pls be kind, i am sensitive hehe
#aespa x reader#karina x reader#yu jimin x reader#girl group scenarios#aespa imagines#aespa scenarios#karina imagines#karina scenarios#yu jimin imagines#yu jimin scenarios#aespa#aespa karina#blue’s pieces
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oldest to newest
First Smutty One Shot (3.5k words)
in which Harry wants to buy your albums but then he realizes he wants a little something more from you or where Harry fucks you so you'll calm down
Again & Again (5.4k words)
in which lhh!Harry is your server and he takes you home after girl’s night is over or where lhh!Harry fucks you good, but comes too fast
Gonna Make You Mine (6k words) (mafia!harry)
extra
in which Harry is your boyfriend's boss and he wants to have you for himself or where Harry fucks you in front of your boyfriend
The Work Call (1.3k words)
in which you’re desperate for Harry’s attention when he’s ignoring you on a work call
Too Hard to Keep Quiet (678 words) (boyfriend!harry)
in which you and Harry try to keep it down while having sex in your childhood bedroom down the hall from your family
The Doctor & the Psychopath (9.7k words)
extra
in which Harry is facing serious assault charges and you’re the forensic psychologist tasked with analyzing him or where Harry manipulates you into having sex but you kind of like it
Music For a Festival (896 words)
in which you meet Harry, the lead singer of a local rock band, at a music festival and you bring him back to your tent
Thank You, Next (7.3k words)
extra
in which you are at a club with your very drunk boyfriend and you and Harry spot one another from across the room or where you meet lhh!Harry at a club while you're with your boyfriend and he fucks you in the bathroom
A Public Nuisance (1.6k words) (coworker!harry)
you and Harry are office coworkers and everyone’s out tonight at the local bar celebrating, but you and Harry find yourselves in a rather compromising position
Sex Ed With Harry (7.4k words) (innocent virgin!reader)
in which you’re a sweet, innocent, Christian, virgin and you meet Harry at a college party and he can show you a few things
Dirty & Rough (1.6k words)
reader ask:harry cheats on his gf with you and maybe not necessarily a breeding kink but cream pie kink ?? like, “i’m gonna stuff you so full of my cum”. veryyyy rough and degrading like he’s just using you to get off. “cumdump” etc..maybe he’s quite a bit older than u as well. face slapping, spit kink, as dirty as possible…you get me LOL
I Guess You're All Mine (11.9k words) (friends to lovers)
based on a true story: in which Harry is the hot drummer in your boyfriend’s band and he tells you a secret that changes everything
The Long Weekend (9.8k words) (friends to enemies to lovers)
extra
in which you and Harry hate one another but then things change
The Wedding Guest (4.5k words)
in which you meet Harry at a friend's wedding and show up at his hotel room the next morning to take him up on an offer he made you the night before
Lactation kink (700 words)
reader ask: I don't know if this sounds weird, but you would write one where the reader and Harry had a baby and while she and Harry are having sex, milk starts to come out of her breasts and he starts to suck
The Scientist & the Stripper (15.2k words) (nerd!harry | virgin!harry)
extra #1 | extra #2
in which virgin/nerd!Harry moves in next door to you and you invite him over for a small get together with friends where he gets more than he bargained for at the end of the night
On Halloween Morning (8.7k words) (ghost!harry)
a horror-filled Halloween one-shot. Harry is a ghost and you don't believe in ghostsbut you find out you were dead wrong.
Psoriasis Fluff (652 words)
reader ask: Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry (no smut)
Mixed Signals (9.5k words) (best friends to lovers)
bestfriends to lovers one shot - You and Harry have been best friends since you were children and now that you're both adults you can no longer deny the feelings that have been there all along
The Threesome (3.3k words) (Fratboy!Harry)
Harry's hot but he's nice and he's into you tonight
A Delicate Thing (7.6k words) (mafia boss!harry)
extra
Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night.
Tell Me You Hate Me (12.1k words) (male!reader | enemies to lovers)
Based on this request - You and Harry work together as bartenders and your relationship is hot and cold which infuriates you to no end. But you can't say you don't find him attractive, regardless of his cocky attitude.
The Italy Blurb (1.6k words) (boyfriend!harry)
reader prompt: some plotless smut featuring a little bit of jealous yn riding Harry's tiger & yacht sex.
Bad Morning (3.6k words) (professor!h x professor!yn)
You run late to an important meeting with your colleagues and Professor Styles decides to punish you.
Spiderman (4.2k words) (fratboy!harry | lhh!harry)
You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.
The Ex (3.4k words) ex!harry
Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.
Nympho (4.5k words) nympho!poly!harry
Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.
Harry bruises your cervix - blurb (450 words) husband!harry
A quick filthy, requested blurb. Nothing more and nothing less.
Next Door Neighbors (7.8k words) neighbor!harry
Part 2 (5k words)
You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.
The Fleshlight Blurb (1.5k) subrry
Harry has to go on a business trip without Y/n so she gets him a special toy to use while he's away and she tells him to send her a video of him using it.
The Handyman (11k words)
When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.
Breeding Kink Blurb (587 words)
Requested - just straight up smut
Sex Tutor (10k words)
Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
#harry styles masterlist#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harrystyles#firstpost#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#professor!harry#male!reader#mafia!harry#fratboy!harry#ghost!harry#nerd!harry#virgin!harry#enemies to lovers#friends to lovers#best friend!harry#dark!harry#gurugirl
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KEEPSAKE 2:: ( na jaemin )
WARNING:: marking, oral (m & f), fingering, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension, dirty talk, cum eating, unprotected sex, choking, 80's au!
SUMMARY:: after a harsh rejection Jaemin wants to prove that he is completely over his ex.
WORD COUNT:: 9.5K
It had officially been around 2 weeks since you went on that date with Jaemin, and ever since he's been sending you flowers to your doorstep, ignoring any other girl in his line of sight when you're around, calling you at the end of his shift at the movie theater telling you about his day and asking about yours.
You could tell Jaem was desperate for a second date, and at first you weren't convinced he truly had the intention of going on a well spent date and he just wanted sex, but when the date offers became less and less intimate and sounding more fun you caved.
Just the night before he called you at the same time asking about your day and if you were free the next day. It felt like a scene in sixteen candles, sitting on your bed with your desk lamp twirling the yellow cord to your landline that sat beside your bed on your finger as he talked. You couldn't break the small smile as you hear him stutter over his words to ask you if you would go out with him on a date.
"Better than last time. I promise" he said, and that's when you knew he was serious. He humbled himself after you gave him your panties on your doorstep and sent him off in his shiny red car back home deflated by the slight rejection. He really wanted to be clear that not one girl in town had his attention like you did. Not Chae, or Nari, or Hae-eun. None of them can hold a candle to you.
Something about you just screamed you were different than any other girl he's been with, any other girl would be calling him back for a second date but instead he's the one calling and chasing after you like a lost puppy. And when you finally accepted his offer he almost jumped with joy as he told you with the biggest lopsided smile that he'd pick you up at 7 after his shift and hung up the phone too giddy to even continue a conversation.
When you hear the doorbell ring you give yourself the final touches, straightening out your skirt and checking your makeup, you make it to your front door with a grin as you open the door to greet the tall silver haired boy who held a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane.
"I got you flowers, I didn't know what your favorite kind were so I just got what reminded me of you" he says as he smiles handing them over to you. Your grin grew wide as you looked down at them "you're already taking me on a date, you didn't have to get me flowers Na" you say teasingly as you press the flowers to your nose taking in the smell.
"I like them" you say as you place in a vase that had been sitting in your foyer along with other flowers your mom most likely set out and watered every morning. "If you're ready we can head over to the carnival, I'm pretty sure at this time it's more lively" he says with a smile holding out his hand to you gently.
Taking it you felt how soft yet sweaty his palm was. You could only assume he was nervous, this was his second chance to get to know you better than your last date which was an absolute shit show to say the least. Guiding you to the passenger side door he opens the door and waits until you're seated perfectly in his leather seats before he closes the door.
Putting on your seatbelt you could hear the faint sound of music playing which makes you hum along to the upbeat song. The yellow and orange tones of the sun as it was beginning to set makes you feel warm as you look out the window into your neighborhood as he pulls out of your gravel driveway and onto the streets into the direction of the carnival.
"I feel like on our last date I didn't let you talk enough... so I'll give you the floor" he says with a small grin, eyes flickering from the road to you. "Well isn't that just the sweetest thing?" You tease him with a small laugh earning a chuckle out of him.
On the way there you and Jaemin kept the conversation going, you both talked about your taste in music and even fought over which songs on the radio were bad and laughed about how Jaemin had caught two kids in the movie theater after hours while he was cleaning up and was scared half to death. The car ride was so chaotic that Jaemin almost drove past the entrance to get in. And when you made it to the parking lot of a packed Carnival you knew this date would be fun.
The both of you get out of the car and walk into the crowds of people, keeping close you could feel Jaemin's large hand on your lower back as the both of you point and look around for things you want to do.
"How about we get on a rollercoaster first do we know what we're dealing with yeah?" He asks as he tears his eyes from the large ride that was spinning and carrying kids of all ages screaming their heads off. "Yeah, that sounds like fun" you smile up at him, pointing in the direction of the big ride.
"You wanna get on this ride? I mean if you're scared or anything we can get on something else" he says as you both walk closer "I'm sure" you nod with a smile on your lips watching as kids spill from the exit gate looking pale and sick.
"Really? Like you're 100% sure?" He asks, his voice going up in pitch making you laugh "Jaem if you're scared to ride it then you don't have to get on it with me" you said laughing it up.
He scoffs as he straightens his posture "I'm not a kid y/n I can handle some stupid 5-minute ride that spins" he rolls his eyes dramatically making you smile "if you say so. But if you throw up on this ride I think we can get on the kiddy rides" you say with a big smile that has your eyes almost closing which has his heart fluttering.
"Whatever. But just know, I won't because I'm a man and I can handle a stupid ride" he says once again making you shake your head as the ride conductor opens the gate letting people on the ride and taking their tickets.
And as the two of you got on you see that only a few spots were left the both of you right beside each other as you press your backs to the cold rusting metal you push the bar below your waist close and grip onto the handles. "Is this safe? I mean there are no straps or anything" he says from beside you as he grips the metal bars that seemed to be chipping away.
"We'll be moving too fast to even move Jaem. Besides they have a bar holding down our waists, we're gonna be fine. And- if you want you can hold my hand until it's over" you say as you watch the worker close the gate to the ride taking the safety precautions before going into the control booth.
"I'm only taking your hand because you'll probably be scared. I don't need to hold your hand like a kid" he says scoffing as he repeatedly tries to put up a brave front while he is practically screaming from the inside. His large hand grips yours over the bar, turning his head to see you already looking at him with a fond smile.
"What?" He asks with a soft smile "you're scared" you coo making his jaw slack as he's ready to defend himself which makes you smile even wider as the dramatic and intense music of the ride plays and small lights flash. "It's about to start! Aren't you excited?!" You ask almost jumping with joy to see the nauseous look on his face.
"Sure" he nods as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. He was stressed out and the ride hadn't even moved yet. His grip on your hand becomes tighter once he feels the ride begin to slowly move and he can hear the old gears and screws sputter. "Oh god" he whispers to himself.
He feels his heart flip at the sound of your screaming and laughing, and when he opens his eyes he can't help but smile and laugh at your wide eyes while the wind blows your hair wildly the yellow bright lights from the carnival rides around you lighting up your face. He laughs as he sees your head toss back in sheer delight, he realized the ride wasn't so bad after all.
And when it was over he was dizzy and lovesick. And as the both of you walk out of the small exit gate you stop eyeing all of the stands and trucks with food and games. "Why don't we get some cotton candy? Play a few games and then get something to eat before we go?" Ge asks, looking down at you.
Nodding at his proposal you look up at him "I heard fair cotton candy tastes like a cavity waiting to happen" you laugh as you think about the time your mom told you she hated the taste of cotton candy. "What?! Who said that? Because cotton candy tastes the best when it's from a fair" he explains in shock.
"My mom. She doesn't like it so I just never ate it because I assumed it was gross" you scrunch your nose making his eyes widen at your words. "Oh, you're serious?!" He asks as he looks around for the cotton candy stand.
"You've never gotten cotton candy? Like ever in your life?" He asks in utter shock. "No, never. What's so wrong with that?!" You laugh at him who was completely mind blown at the little fact he just learned about you. "You're just missing out is all I'm saying" he shrugs holding his hands up which makes you laugh harder.
"Okay... so why don't you give me the first-time experience of eating cotton candy" you smile up at him. "It's gonna blow your mind I swear," he says while he grabs your hand softly and unconsciously as he pulls you along the crowd of kids, teens, and parents who're most likely emptying their pockets on food and games.
As the both of you near a man dressed obnoxiously you clench your hand in Jaemin’s as you cringe. "Do you want pink or blue?" He asks quietly as the both of you near the man working the machine with a pack of long white paper sticks in hand.
"What do you usually get?" You ask, looking at the man before flickering your eyes to Jaemin. "I mean I get blue, it tastes really good" he nods as he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket seemingly dropping your hand to your dismay. "Then I'll get blue" you nod watching as he pulls a crisp $5 out of his wallet.
"Cool," he says as he walks to the man politely asking for two sticks of blue cotton candy. You stand back in awe as he laughs at the man's words you can't seem to catch. But when he nods his head towards you, you can't help but feel a tinge in your stomach.
"Is that your girlfriend over there waiting for you?" The man asks as he swivels the paper cone around the spun sugar forming into a neat ball of fluff in a pastel blue color. "Ah, no. We're here on a date. And I'm hoping that if it goes well I'll eventually get to ask her to be" he explains with a bittersweet smile. "I remember when I was young and I asked my wife on dates like these" he sighs as he reminisced.
"How long have you been married?" He asks with raised brows "20 years, but we've been together for 28" he nods as he hands off the come to his going to make another one. "That's cool" he smiled as he can imagine the couple being his age walking around like him and you.
"Here you are! I hope your date goes well" he smiled at Jaemin, making him nod as he handed off his money and turned on his heel to see you looking at him with narrow eyes. As he comes closer he sees you reach your hand out to him making him smile, you genuinely seemed excited to eat.
Handing you the sweet confection he could see the way your eyes sparkled "let's go sit down and eat these before we go running around yeah?" He looks at you. "Mhm," you hum as you look for a nearby vacant bench.
And as the both of you sit down you eye the cotton candy suspiciously and then look over at Jaemin who had paused to watch your reaction. "Well? Why are you just looking at it?" He laughed, "try it. I promise it's not gonna bite you," he says, shaking his head with a huge smile.
"What if I don't like it?" You ask with a small pout "then we'll throw it away" he answers with a shrug "but then that would have been a waste of money" you answer back making him sigh. "It's not about the money y/n it's about the experience. And if you don't like it we'll throw it away, or I can eat it" he reasons with you. "Okay" you mumbled as you sniffed the candy, almost surprised at how sweet it smelled.
Excitedly you take a small bite out of it and in almost an instant you feel it dissolve making you hum and chew before swallowing it. "Did you like it?" He asks tilting his head to meet your gaze, only to see your pupils were blown out and a small smile on your face. "I love it" you whisper which makes him chuckle.
You look like a kid whose parents bought them their favorite ice cream. "I knew you would," he says fondly as he takes a bite out of his. As the both of you talk and look amongst the crowd you see 2 kids smiling and laughing and you couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"What are you smiling about?" He asks looking around to see if anything, in particular, would catch his eye. "Those two kids. Over there, they're so cute" you point over at the two twin boys as they stood in front of the fish bowl game tossing rings hoping they could get a pet fish.
"Really? You like kids?" He asks his smile softly as he learns another thing about you "I wouldn't say I like them, I just sometimes enjoy how adorable they can be" you shrug pretending that you had no idea what he was talking about. "Yeah?" He asks as his eyes flicker between you and the young boys.
"Yeah," you say back, and out of the corner of your eye you watch him stand up from the bench which makes your brows shoot up "what are you doing?" You ask with a nervous smile. "I'll be back, just stay here," he says, handing you his cone with only a bit of cotton candy left on it.
Your eyes follow him as he walks away, it wasn't until you saw him tap one of the boys asking if he could help them win a fish that you realized his plan. You were smiling so big as you saw the two boys celebrating the fact that Jaemin had tossed the last few rings making them on the rim of the bowls that contained fake plastic fish inside.
Smiling and celebrating with them, the small boys were practically shining as the guy running the stand gave a bag with a little orange fish inside that had the boys looking up at Jaemin smiling and thanking him. Only brushing them off with a smile and a "no problem" before walking back over to you and sitting back down.
"You're sweet" you mumbled to him as you bite off the last chunk you can on your cone and tossed it into the trash can next to the bench. "They needed help," he shrugged with a grin. "Whatever." You roll your eyes sarcastically "hurry up and finish so we can play that game with the water guns" you say practically bouncing to play the game.
And when he scarfs down the rest the both of you were almost skipping to get into the short line and play. "I bet that I can beat you no problem" Jaemin teased "what?! absolutely not. We had gym together our sophomore year and you sucked at dodgeball because your aim was shit" you scoffed making him open his mouth to defend himself but he couldn't.
"Okay, that's fair. How about the next game we play with the balloons and darts. Since your aim is so good how about we bet whoever wins gets what they want" he says sternly looking down at you. "Fine. If I win you have to buy me a cherry slushie" he nods "okay that's fine" he plays it cool with his words.
"And if you win?" You ask looking up at him curiously as to what he could be thinking of if he has to win. "If I win, I get a kiss" he teased, which makes you laugh and shake your head. The both of you saw how you were next in line and could see all the stuffed animals were hung up and you were eyeing the big pink teddy bear.
Jaemin caught whim of it as you both sat on the stools in front of the booth. The woman behind the booth smiles as she states the rules, counting down the both of you hearing the ring that urges you to start. And just as you presumed your aim was really good, hitting the target you saw the balloon over the top of it filling up with water.
Jaemin shouts as he struggles to aim the water where he needs, making you laugh as his balloon is barely filled with water. "If you want I can help you," you say loudly over the noises of people around you. "I can still win, I don't need your help" he sassed you which makes you giggle at his stubbornness.
When your balloon popped and a loud ringing sound to determine you had won made Jaemin laugh at how you shot out of your chair shouting in celebration. "I told you I'd win," you say as you pat his shoulders "whatever, I just let you win because you were so excited" he drags out his words as he rolls his eyes dramatically.
"Just admit you have shit aim, and I beat you fair and square," you say as you arch a brow at him he only shakes his head "we'll just have to see after this when I beat you at the next game," he says with a casual shrug only making you shake your head. You turn towards the woman at the stand smiling at your bickering.
"Choose whatever stuffed animal you want," she says as she points a wooden staff at the toys hung up along a small wire. "The big bunny" you smile as you point to it with shimmering eyes which makes Jaemin's brows furrow as he remembers you looking at the teddy bear.
The woman handing it off to you as Jaemin pays, you see him turn to look at you "I won you this" you hold it out for him to take wide eyes peering up at him for a reaction. "What? It's your prize, why don't you just keep it?" He asks, shaking his head "because it reminded me of you so I wanted to give it to you" you smile. Most girls remember guys when they win them stuffed animals, but you? You won Jaemin a stuffed animal and he'd cherish it with his whole heart.
"You didn't have to. I saw you looking at the teddy bear, so I thought you'd get it for yourself" he says as he gently takes the plushie from your hands holding it to his chest and squeezing it. "I felt bad, you've paid for everything we've done today. I just thought this was the least I could do" you say softly making him practically melt.
Everything about you made Jaemin feel fuzzy. How your eyes crinkle when you laugh, how you had birthmarks and moles littering your pretty skin, how you looked breathtaking underneath the colorful lights all over the place, even after you got on a ride your hair tousled and you didn't even bother to fix it because regardless you still looked good.
"Earth to Jaemin... are we gonna play the next game or not?" You laughed as you watched him sit in silence and stare blankly at you for a moment. "Yeah- yeah we can.. go now" he sputters over his words nodding as he pulls himself out of his small lovesick daze.
"You know, I've never played darts before so you might have an advantage over this game," you say as you both settle on walking towards the game that had been set up with balloons. "Don't forget our bet. If I win I get a kiss" he teased and you only roll your eyes "yeah and if I win I get a slushie" you say as you both walk to the wooden counter to set up Jaemin handing him 20 dollars.
"You just aim for the balloons and whoever pops the most or pops all the balloons before the other wins" which sounded easy to you. But when she had announced that the game had begun Jaemin lifted a dart up, aiming straight for a balloon and popping it. You watched and did the same only seeing as it had missed.
You both were giggling like kids forgetting completely about the stupid little bet the both of you had arranged. When you guys had gotten more darts you could feel frustration bubbling in your chest as you feel yourself becoming more competitive.
You hadn't realized how passive you began to toss the darts until you had seen Jaemin disappear from your line of sight which made you turn your head in hopes that you would be able to find him if you looked fully. But when you feel a hand on your forearm and a hard chest pressed against your back making your breath hitch.
"Relax, lift your arm and aim at the balloon you want" he says slowly, your breath is caught in your throat. The warmth of his hand around your wrist as he straightens it has your head spinning. "Try it" he huffs, the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck makes you slightly shiver while you attempt to gather yourself to aim the dart at the balloon.
One of his hands drifting to your waist holding you, honestly if he hadn't on time you would've most likely collapsed from how weak in the knees he had made you. Taking in a deep breath as you feel his hand tighten on your waist, your grip on the dart tightens, you look at a balloon that still hasn't popped.
Slightly bending your arm back you slightly jump forward letting go of the dart hearing the loud pop bringing you back to your senses you smile and turn on your heel with a smile on your lips "I did it" you almost squeal as you wrap your arms around his torso.
Jaemin could only smile at the giddy feeling bubbling inside his stomach practically flipping while he wraps his arms around you "that's good, but I still need to beat you" he teased as he pulled away wishing that it would last longer. Scoffing "if you wanted to win so badly you shouldn't have taught me how to do better" he said, pulling away and turning back to the game.
The game continued on for around 5 minutes with Jaemin winning with a cocky smirk on his lip as he tossed a few teasing comments at you. "Looks like you won, and didn't cheat... I guess" you say, rolling your eyes sarcastically. "Yeah, let's go to get you your slushy and then I'll take you home" he said pulling you to his side with his hand resting on your hip.
Your brows furrowed as he completely pushed aside the fact that he had bet on a kiss. Maybe he forgot. That's what you kept telling yourself at least. He didn't let go of your hip when he ordered for you and paid, but on the way back to the car he was smiling and talking.
Maybe he just didn't want to kiss you. This date was completely different from your last one, he wasn't trying so hard to impress you, he was actually letting you talk about yourself and was just all around being a good date. You just couldn't help but feel a tinge in your stomach that told you that he didn't want to kiss you.
But as you sit in the car you hold the small bunny and rub your hand against the faux fur in sheer silence as the radio plays slowly. Jaemin's eyes on the road while his fingers tap in a rhythm against the leather steering wheel. Your eyes train on the street lights that whip past the car window in orange blur's.
When he pulled into your gravel filled driveway you realized you rarely wanted the night to end. Even if Jaemin didn't want to kiss you, he still treated you well on your date proving that whatever stupid front he put on when he took you on your first one but he was nothing like before.
Opening his door first Jaemin walks to the passenger side and opens the door for you, holding out his hand you take it giving him a sweet smile mumbling your gratitude to him only earning him a hum. He doesn't let go of your hand, but he shuts the door behind you as you begin to slowly walk towards your familiar front door.
Suddenly it all came rushing back to Jaemin, your last date was sort of shit show and he regrets treating you like every other girl he had gone on dates with in the past. It was the simple fact that none of those other girls were like you, they wouldn't dare reject him for a second date.
None of them would be bold enough to even take their panties off on their doorstep and stuff them in his pocket. Hell Jaemin couldn't even remember the other girls before you, because every detail from; how you've never eaten cotton candy, to liking scary carnival rides took up all the space in his brain.
That's why he didn't kiss you. And as the both of you walk up the steps to your front porch you stand under the dim orange-ish light with a smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today, this tops our last date for sure" you said smiling
Jaemin nods agreeing, taking a deep breath "I'm glad it's nothing like our last date to be honest with you" he sighed. You tilt your head at his words "how come?" You ask "because today was really great, I liked that you got to talk about yourself and it wasn't just me being a self centered asshole" he scoffed which makes you huff out a small giggle.
"How come?" You say you look into his eyes only to see him already looking at you. "Learning all these things about you made me cherish the time we had. You even won me a penguin, I don't think any future date will top this one. And I don't think I want to go on any future dates with... anyone else but you" he says as his words become more quiet with each passing word that comes out before he can even think.
You smile at him and your eyes soften at the confession. "I don't think I want to go on any more dates with anyone else but you either. But I'm just curious about something" you return his feelings and it makes his heart soar within the confinements of his chest. "Hm?" He looks at you with a curious gaze trying to fight the smile on his lips.
"Why didn't you kiss me?" You ask quietly, your eyes trail to your beat up shoes getting a bit of dirt on them from walking about the carnival for so long. "Oh, I didn't want things to end up like last time. I didn't want to seem like I was only doing this to get into your pants. Maybe that was the initiative the last time I was here but the more I called you and we talked the more I realized that I didn't just want sex with you" he says hoping you'd look at him and see how genuine he was.
"And I know you think I still want to be with Chae, but I don't. I really don't. Because you, you were a wake up call to move on. The way you rejected me so many times, you didn't hesitate to humble me, you broke my stupid facade. All of that playboy act was bullshit. Chae broke my heart and I didn't know what to do so I just slept around until I finally met my match" he says the words coming from his mouth were coming out a mile a minute but you understood.
He was being genuine and you could tell by the sound of his passionate voice. "And I really need you to believe me" he whispers as he takes a step closer to you. When you finally looked to meet his gaze you failed to realize that the gap between you was barely a thing. "I do, I believe you. And although I wasn't really set on going to this date because of our last one I realized that I couldn't really blame. You have your faults and you learned your lesson. I really do like you Jaemin, and I thought that when you won the bet you were going to kiss me and then you didn't. I thought this was all just payback and that you were going to tell me to never talk to you again" you laughed breathily.
Jaemin could feel it on his skin as the cold air nipped at his pale skin. "You wanted me to kiss you?" He asks his voice just barely above a whisper, you nod with a smile "I was waiting all night for you to do it" you answered back. And it didn't take much for Jaemin to cup your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your face bringing warmth to your body covered in goosebumps for the cold night air.
His nose brushing against yours has your eyes fluttering shut anticipating the warmth of his lips on yours he leans closer, hesitation dripping all over him. You lean in as well, your stomach felt like you had been riding a roller coaster over and over again and the closer you moved together you could feel his warm breath on your lips which makes you feel like you're at the tipping point of the ride and you're about to hit the drop.
Your eyes flutter closed and you both pull together like two magnets as your lips catch each other's softness. You suck in a small breath through your nose as your lips move in a rhythm. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck letting your fingers entangle in his brown hair .
His hand touches your hip giving it a small squeeze, his tongue licks a small stripe against your bottom lip making your part your lips, you brush your tongue against his shyly feeling his warm wet tongue against yours.
Letting out a small groan, Jaemin's hand makes way to the belt loop of your jeans, hooking two fingers inside and pulling your hips closer against his. Your chest pressed against his sent him into a small daze.
His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of cherry slushie and cotton candy on his tongue. Pulling away he chases your lips with nothing but sheer eagerness. "It's starting to get really cold, do you wanna come inside and warm up?" You asked breathily as your forehead pressed against his eyes clouded with satisfaction in yourself.
He breathily laughs at your way of inviting him inside but nonetheless he accepts "yeah, I don't want you to catch a cold" he mumbled slightly out of breath as you pull away from his warmth, fishing your keys out of your pocket and unlocking the door to your empty house. You felt like a kid again sneaking back into your house with a boy you knew was bad news and regardless you would still do it.
Closing the door right behind you it didn't take much for him to pull you by the arm into his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist pressing the warm palms of his hands to your lower stomach, his head over your shoulders making you suck in a small gasp "you warm now?" He mumbles as he kisses the nape of your neck.
Your hands find his as you hold them in yours almost moaning at the feeling of his warm lips on your cold skin "mhm, feels really good" you whisper as if you had been any louder you would be caught. But you knew you wouldn't, your parents were never home longer than a week before they were off to some business in another state:
"But I think we would feel even more warm in my bed" you shiver under his touch as his hands begin to trail under your shirt. "You think so? Because I heard skin to skin contact helps too" he says you could feel his smirk against your skin as he leaves small wet kisses on your skin. "Well then I think we need to take off our clothes for that" you laugh breathily as he pulls away.
You both kick off your shoes giggling like you're high out of your minds while you pull him further into your home and up the staircase that leads to your bedroom. The halls are dark and if it had been any other night you wouldn't mind but the fact that you wanted to see Jaemin so badly almost had you audibly cursing.
But as soon as you make it to your bedroom door you don't hesitate to practically rip your door off the hinges as you twist your doorknob and pull your door open, you practically drag him inside that has him stumbling in as you reach your light switch. The sight of your bedroom was almost exactly like what he had imagined, only smiling to himself as he looked over at you, who was standing at your door with a smile on your face as you practically scale his figure.
He could feel heat all up and down his body, not that he minded in the least but it was getting harder not to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. He didn't care what it was, your presence was enough for him but he couldn't keep himself contained as he strides towards you, pushing your hips against the door hearing a thud of your body meeting the door harshly you almost moan at the feeling of his chest pressed against yours.
"I don't want anyone but you, and I think I've known that for a while now" he whispered as he pressed his forehead to yours, holding eye contact with him seemed to get harder "really?" You ask in a bit of disbelief which makes him scoff "I haven't slept with anyone or gone out since our last date. I was so hellbent on getting you on a second date and actually getting to know you that I just couldn't think of anyone else" he says as he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
"Not even Chae?" You whispered into his lips, Jaemin shakes his head "not even once. It's only been you" he answers as his kisses go from short and sweet to passionate and soft. And the moment your lips meet, has been a long time coming, an eruption of your lust. His lips are warm and gentle as he kisses you softly, delicately, as if he isn't sure you're real and he's still checking.
He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips.
His hands hold your hips pulling against his, you rock your hips feeling how hard he was becoming. You moan at the feeling of him pressing against your front, and although it had been weeks you couldn't forget how big he was, or how good it felt. the thought alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you needed to feel some sort of relief. and right now, the friction was the closest thing to provide that.
Pulling away you chase after his lips only to hear him laugh breathily. His fingers tilt your chin back as your eyes bore into the ceiling, a small gasp slips out of your mouth when you feel his teeth brush against the skin on your throat. The warmth of his tongue makes you moan and ball your hands into fists. You were panting almost like a dog at the feeling of him kissing and sucking on your skin leaving behind what you assumed to be marks that would grow into dark plumb splotches blooming into bruises within the hour.
Shivering as his warm breath ghosts her skin which is a reminder of why the both of you had been up in your bedroom in the first place. "Still cold?" He asks lifting his face away from your neck to look at you who had goosebumps rubbing up your skin. You nod your head meeting his gaze. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked as his hand rubbed against your arm.
You only shrug at his sudden care; it almost made you flustered if it wasn't for how needy you were. "Can you still warm me up? I wanna take up your offer on that skin to skin contact" you say with a faint smirk on your lips at the suggestion. He scoffs and shakes his head "that's why we're here" he says giving you his own smirk.
Pulling away from you his hand catches yours as he tugs you towards the direction of your bed stopping before the both of you can get underneath the sheets. "Skin on skin, remember?" He says turning towards you "so strip for me" he mumbled as his hands caught the back of his shirt pulling it over his head messing up his hair. Tossing his shirt to the floor he looks at you awaiting your next move.
Reaching for your shirt you pull yours off as well leaving you in a bra, your jeans and panties. The both of you strip down to nothing, smiling and letting out small huffs and giggles until you're both bare, Jaemin cups your jaw pulling your chest to his as his lips clash into yours, the both of you fall into the messy sheets of your bed barely breaking the kiss.
You straddle over his lap, his hands are all over your bare back while his nails drag across your skin lightly until his hands are tangled into your hair already messy from the wind and rides you had been on in the past few hours. You hum into the kiss pulling away foreheads pressed against each other you smile trying to catch your breath.
"I'm feeling warm already" you tease mumbling against his lips "yeah? Well I think you're still a little cold, and I wanna warm you up more" he says with a smirk on his lips that was very obvious. "Go ahead, I wanna see your technique" you laugh at your choice of words. Jaemin pats your thighs as a way of telling you to get up, you lay flat on your back with your head to the pillow. Looking up at him you could see how well sculpted his body and face was.
Every scar, freckle, mole, dent, scratch, and scab. It didn't matter one bit to you. In your eyes he was as beautiful as they come, and while he practically hovered over your body giving you feather kisses from your jaw and neck, down to your navel, until he disappeared under the covers of your body. You could feel your heart beating in your throat as he kissed your hips, lifting your legs over his shoulder like they were nothing and kissing your inner thighs.
"You're being such a tease" you whisper you could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your pussy that had almost made your thighs snap shut. "Just doing my job" he mumbled as his tongue pressed flat against your pussy earning a breathy moan as he dragged it from your entrance to your clit loving the sweet sound of your moans.
"Oh fuck" you whispered as he presses his thumb against your clit and continuing to lick and kiss everything he possibly can. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.
Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you. Pushing your thighs against your chest and pushing them together you became more aware of every touch, lick, and kiss he gave to you.
The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good Jaem" you moan.
You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your juices. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.
Pulling away his thumb Jaemin flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.
"Oh my god" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groans, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he pulled away, licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.
Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal of his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.
Pulling his head he looks up at you from the small blanket over his head with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.
His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his dirty words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.
Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.
"Feels so good Jaem" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.
"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Jaemin's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that has the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.
"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.
"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he giggled as he pulled away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.
You let out a small giggle that turned into a choked whine when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits. Kissing up your stomach and chest once more he meets your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue and having you moaning against his mouth. "Wanna suck you off" you mumbled into his lips pressing yours against his harder.
"Yeah?" He asks, he can tell you are eager to get his cock in your mouth but that doesn't bother him in the least you nod as you pull away from him, the warmth the both of you shared had you feeling fuzzy. "Yeah, want it real bad" you almost whimpered at the thought of sucking him off again like you did in his car.
"I'm not stopping you" he says as the both of you shuffle around the bed switching places, the sheets warms underneath you as you settle between his legs. His cock hard pressed against his lower abdomen flushed at the tip glossy with precum. "You smile at his words as you spit in the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his shaft slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb.
You hear him grunt making you slightly more confident with your actions, your other hand on his thigh gently squeezing as you listen closely to every huff, and groan that falls from his lips slowly. And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already-there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.
You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the mattress once again.
And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the sheets in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh, god" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.
you take him deeper, using the back of his thighs to force yourself down. He's big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is a plaguing reminder. but you don't mind it too much, you like the thought of him when he's all deep in your throat, and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat. it makes you gag, and choke, and your eyes get cloudy with tears to the point they spill over, but it's worth it. It's worth it without fail.
you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess. The sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been thinking about all day. this was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate.
He can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.
A string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his balls.
He can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.
"Fuck" he breathily moaned as you pull away from him, your throat burning and tears wetting you lashes as your lungs begged for air, you couldn't help but puff out a few choked up giggles. "Still so damn pretty" he mumbled leaning forward, capturing your lips in a meaningful kiss. His hands caressing your cheeks as he refused to part from the kiss.
Filled with tongue and teeth clashing, it didn't matter that much to you because the feeling of his soft lips pressed to yours made you feel 10 times lighter. His hands find your hips, guiding you onto the empty side next to him, leaning over top of you finally breaking the kiss. The both of you having to catch your breath smiling and giggling close to each other's face not wanting to be too far apart.
#𖦹—( neo percs )#nct smut#haechan smut#mark smut#nct dream smut#jaemin smut#jaemin imagines#jaemin x reader#renjun smut#jeno smut
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MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!
[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
info;
lee jeno x fem!reader
college au
chaptered
very slow burn
genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven
warnings for this chapter; none
chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!
taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky@gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavyy @roseymerrie @bangchanisemo @skuezk @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples @ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread @jvjsssnaa @episkeyjeno @bockhyun @jenojammin @zarastrawberry @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee @ooojisoo @luv4jeno @not-clemb @jydivrs @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09 @pinkysinnerbaby
unable to tag: @jenojenoyes
[a/n]: merry early christy mass
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.
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“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”
It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.
The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”
“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”
Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”
For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed.
If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted.
“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”
“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”
Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.
And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.
Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction.
He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him.
And he remembers being… confused.
That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.
“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”
“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”
“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”
“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”
“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”
“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”
Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”
Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”
A stunned second passes.
“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”
Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother.
That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you.
“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”
“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”
They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs.
“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.”
Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?”
And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?”
He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.
Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.
“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”
Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.
“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”
Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”
“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”
“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.
“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”
“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”
Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.
“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”
“Pothole,” Jeno bites.
He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.
“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”
“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”
Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at.
“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”
“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”
“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”
Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.
He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt.
But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”
And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.
It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.
Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks.
It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.
It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.
The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”
“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”
You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”
And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.
Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.
When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.
“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”
Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.
“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”
“An accessory to your what?”
“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”
Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.
Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.
Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.
“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”
Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now.
It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right.
He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.
This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand.
7:06. He frowns.
“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”
It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.
Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”
“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”
“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”
“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”
Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”
“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”
Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”
He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror.
“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”
“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”
Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”
“What?”
“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”
“Where the hell did you get them?”
A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.”
The Mark in question only hums proudly.
“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”
“By BTS?”
Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”
“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.
Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.
Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that.
So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.
A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.
“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”
“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts.
The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.
Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge.
“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”
“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.
Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”
Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand?
The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.
Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’ But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’
Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.
We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t.
He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago.
But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.
Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views.
Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.
You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to.
That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.
It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place.
Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling.
It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.
Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.
“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax.
“You’re late, Rockstar,” Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”
“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”
“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”
There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly.
“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?”
You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.
“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.
“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”
It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush.
Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.
Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.
Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night.
Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.
But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home.
He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.
He is entirely ready to call it a night… but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal.
He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.
He asks him to park.
Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”
“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”
“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”
“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”
And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that.
He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing.
Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”
“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”
“What’s on my mind?”
And only then does he put two and two together.
“Is this... is this an intervention?”
“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”
“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”
“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”
It’s like being suckerpunched.
“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”
Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid.
He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”
“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.”
“Because I screwed up, man.”
“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”
Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—
“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”
And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.
“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.
Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”
Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?
Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.
“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”
“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?”
“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”
And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”
“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”
“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.
“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.”
Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”
“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”
“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head.
“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”
“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”
Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”
“What?”
“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”
Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“
“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”
“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”
“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”
He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.
“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”
“Then you read him wrong.”
Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”
“‘Cause he—” And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”
Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers.
Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice.
In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it.
You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.
Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.
There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.
He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped.
This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new.
And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.
“He gave you… permission?”
“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”
He swallows. “When?”
“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”
“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”
“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Why?”
He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”
“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”
“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”
“Yes?”
“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”
“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”
“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”
“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.
Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.
“But this time I think I really messed up.”
The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.
This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing.
You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.
Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five.
Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.
She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.
Jeno only sighed.
All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.
And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place.
“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”
A beat.
“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”
It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.
If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.
“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”
“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.
“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”
And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing.
Maybe ignorance is bliss.
“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”
Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”
And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.
[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL
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fixer upper
pairing: minghao x reader
wordcount: 9.5k
summary: you love your friends dearly, but do they really think that they can match make for their resident matchmaker? minghao’s certainly interesting, though, so maybe you can fix him up with someone else instead.
genre/themes: s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate), lol. set in the ‘we get along infamously’ universe.
a/n: i have nothing to say for myself regarding the length of this.
You tapped the bartop impatiently as you waited for your blind date to show up. You couldn’t believe that Danbi had roped you into this, but you had lost the game of darts fair and square. As a result, you were here waiting for a man named Minghao to show up. Part of you really wanted to skip out on this, because you just did not trust Danbi’s romantic sensibilities. She had dated a string of truly boring and strange people for months before you had finally set her up with Seungcheol. There was no way this Minghao was going to be anywhere near suited for you, but you were a person of your word, so you would do the date and be done with it.
“Hey, are you YN?” a voice called from above your left shoulder. You turned your head to see a tall, lanky individual with dark hair looking curiously at you.
“Yes, are you Minghao?” you sat up straight, fixing him with a smile. He wasn’t your usual type, physically, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome.
“Yes, nice to meet you,” he smiled, taking the barstool next to you.
“So how do you know Danbi?” you asked after he had ordered with the bartender.
“Ah, so,” Minghao looked almost sheepish, “I helped Jeonghan get together with the person he’s dating now. One of my close friends! And so I met Seungcheol and Danbi through Jeonghan.”
“Oh?” you calculated the degrees of separation quickly in your mind. “So you don’t really know Danbi at all, then!”
“Not well,” Minghao shook his head. “I was kind of surprised when Jeonghan told me that she wanted to set me up on a date.”
“I-,” you laughed, somehow relieved to find out that this hadn’t been any serious effort on your friend’s part. “Honestly, thank god! No offense to you, I obviously don’t know you, but Danbi historically has not impressed me with her taste in men.”
“No offense taken,” Minghao chuckled, bringing his cocktail to his lips for a quick sip. “So does that mean you’re the resident matchmaker in your friend group as well?”
“Very much so,” you nodded, “So I’m not sure exactly what Danbi thinks she’s up to, trying to take my title. In fact, I bet even I could set you up with someone better! And I don’t even know you at all!” you blustered.
“Oh really?” Minghao’s eyebrow raised. You were funny.
“What, you don’t believe me?” you furrowed your brows at him.
“I mean, no one is a better matchmaker than me, so my bar is pretty high,” he replied smugly. “I’ve only ever had one couple break up, and it was due to one of their jobs making them move away.”
“Out of how many?” you found yourself curious.
“...Eight?” Minghao had to tally in his mind quickly.
“Hah! That’s nothing!” you waved him off easily, “I’ve successfully set up eleven couples and none of them have broken up yet!”
Minghao smiled, amused by your bright and confident energy. While you clearly weren’t suited for him, he found himself wanting to beat you at your own game.
“Set me up then,” he invited confidently. “But I bet I can find you a match sooner than you can find one for me.”
“Oh?” you grinned at his gamelike proposal. Before you even knew it, the words came out of your mouth, “You’re on!”
Minghao laughed, shaking your hand enthusiastically. You spent the rest of your “date” exchanging phone numbers and excitedly reviewing each other’s basic likes and dislikes. Minghao wasn’t your type, but he certainly was interesting! He worked in HR for a tech company, had interests in art and fashion, and also had trained in mixed martial arts as a child? Quite a strange array of hobbies, but you were so going to win this thing!
…
“So, how did it go?” Minghao’s voice sounded slightly tinny through your headphones.
“Not good,” you were almost excited to report on how badly the date had gone. “I would rate your matchmaking skills like a 4 out of 10 right now!”
“Excuse me?” Minghao stopped in his tracks. Surely he had misheard you.
“Four. Out of ten.” you repeated yourself, grinning at the way you could tell he was surprised by your feedback.
“No, that can’t be right.”
“Allow me to elaborate,” you pressed on as you decided to take the long way home so you could regale Minghao with every last detail of why your date with Wonwoo had not been stellar. “First…could you have found someone more quiet or disinterested to have set me up with? You’d think I was trying to pull his teeth out!”
Minghao squeezed his eyes together. He and Wonwoo had built up their rapport over many years and he’d somehow forgotten just how tight-lipped his friend could be when meeting someone new.
“Also his only hobby seems to be gaming? I don’t know anything about that nor do I have an interest,” you continued. “Ah, it’s so nice out!” you commented as an aside while you pulled a pink bloom to your nose to inhale.
“Oh are you outside?” Minghao couldn’t help but ask.
“Yep, I’m walking home!” you nodded, “Oh I’m glad I took the long way! I forgot how much I like this park.”
“It is a nice day out,” Minghao looked out the glass panes of his office. He was painfully close to the end of his day and truth be told, he was excited to run out the clock with you on the phone. “So anyways, where are my four points coming from, because I haven’t heard anything positive yet.”
“Oh, well, I mean. I’m going to chalk that up to Wonwoo’s looks, really. He’s unbelievably handsome. Almost too handsome!” you threw your hands up in the air, drawing a few odd looks from other pedestrians.
Minghao laughed. It was true, Wonwoo was probably his most conventionally attractive friend, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear you say it too.
“Okay, so then…very cold on the personality traits, but very hot on the physical features. I can work off of that,” Minghao nodded, scanning through his mental roster of friends. Luckily, Wonwoo was probably the most introverted of them all, so it could only go upwards from here.
“Yep. Oh which! I have a candidate for you,” you clapped excitedly as you waited for the crosswalk to turn green. “My friend Yena!”
Minghao nodded contemplatively as you rattled off the list of compatible points that you saw for him and this Yena. He had his doubts, but he put your proposed date and time in his calendar. A deal was a deal.
“Okay, I’m almost home, so I’m going to hang up now! I’ll text Yena to confirm! Eee, I’m excited to hear what you think!”
“Okay, bye,” Minghao laughed, glancing at the clock again. It was officially quitting time, so he packed up his bag and headed out of the office. You’d been right, it was a beautiful day out, so he decided to switch up his commute as well. As he walked, he found himself wondering which park you had passed through on your way home.
…
[yn]: ‘sooooooo…………yena?!?!???!’
[minghao]: ‘6/10’
You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. Six out of ten?!
[yn]: ‘BE SO FUCKIN FR RIGHT NOW’
[minghao]: ‘no, I actually really liked her, but she said she doesn’t eat chinese food?! i can’t live like that’
What? Surely you had eaten Chinese food with Yena before, right? You racked your brain, but unfortunately came up empty handed. You had to admit, that was a big blind spot on your part.
[yn]: ‘.........i guess that has never come up before. my bad! i know that’s important to you’
[yn]: ‘i’m still up 2 tho! 6 against your 4.’
Minghao threw his head back to laugh. You were so competitive.
[yn]: ‘ok feedback on other qualities tho! plz & thank u’
Minghao waited, an amused smile on his lips, for your three dots to vanish before providing your requested feedback. As he had said, overall he had quite enjoyed meeting Yena. She had been a little quiet and shy at first, but had opened up quite a bit as the date went on. They shared an interest in art and had had quite a nice discussion before she revealed that she did not like Chinese food. Normally an aversion to specific food wouldn’t bother Minghao so much, but after moving, it was important for him to continue to engage with his culture and food was a major way in which he did that.
[yn]: ‘ok, got it, got it. that makes perfect sense’
A soft smile settled on his lips. Minghao was glad that you weren’t taking too much offense to his negative feedback. Part of him was glad that the date hadn’t gone that well and he was sure that it was just his competitive nature. It would have been humiliating for him if you had actually found him someone perfect on the first try.
[minghao]: ‘what are your plans for the weekend?’
[yn]: ‘theres a textile and apparel exhibit opening at the folk art museum that i wanted to check out’
[minghao]: ‘oh?? i was planning to go too! when are you going?’
You cocked your head curiously at your phone. That was weird. But you realized it would be very helpful to observe Minghao in the wild so as to do a better job choosing prospective dates for him. Then you could review your roster of candidates for him after the museum, so it could be a productive time! With a fluttery feeling in your chest, for whatever reason, you chose a meeting time to visit the museum with Minghao. Together.
…
You tapped your fisted hands against your hips as you scanned the crowds for Minghao. It had been a few weeks since you had first met him in person and you had an unreasonable worry that you’d forgotten what his face looked like. Glancing at your watch, you wondered if you had gotten the time wrong.
“YN!” a clear voice caught your attention.
“Ah, there you are!” your face cracked into a smile up at Minghao. “Ok, I’m glad I decided to dress up!” you exhaled with relief after taking in his outfit. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was interested in fashion.
“This outfit is very cool,” he nodded approvingly, eyes raking over you. An unreasonable warmth spread across you at his assessment. You had spent longer than usual picking and re-picking necklaces to match the hardware on your boots. It was nice to see that it was appreciated.
“Thank you!” you beamed up at him, eyes creasing into semi-circles. “Now let’s go!” you gestured forcefully at the museum entrance.
“Okay, okay,” Minghao chuckled goodnaturedly, allowing you to lead the way.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, hands fisted in excitement as you peered closely at the thread and beadwork on a contemporary bobbin lace exhibit. “Unreal.”
Minghao had to do a double take. Your mouth had fallen slightly open, enthralled, as you took in the detail and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You looked like a cartoon frog.
“You’ll catch a fly like that,” he teased, slipping two fingertips under your chin to snap your mouth shut.
You narrowed your eyes at him. If you’d learned one thing today, it was that Minghao was quite prone to teasing. It was a good thing that you had agreed to this museum trip after all, because otherwise your list of next candidates would’ve been wildly out of order.
“Do you want to see the other exhibits too? Or are you only interested in fiber arts?” Minghao asked, looking up from the museum layout map.
“No, I’m interested in all mediums!” you nodded at him. “I just think textile arts have been woefully excluded from the mainstream art world because, you know, misogyny,” you rolled your eyes theatrically at him as you followed his lead. “So I am particularly interested when museums put together exhibits like that!”
Minghao’s lips pinched slightly in amusement. He agreed with you, of course, but he found your animated enthusiasm in high contrast to the serious backdrop of the museum hall. He led the way to one of his favorite areas and you two passed the rest of the afternoon walking through the displays in contemplative quiet.
“I’m hungry,” you frowned as you left the museum.
“Me too,” Minghao grabbed at his midsection. “Let’s go find something to eat!”
“There’s a Chinese restaurant around here that I like! Let’s go there!” you suggested. Minghao nodded furiously, stomach grumbling insistently at him.
…
You glanced at your date out of the side of your eye as you wondered how rude it might be to just leave. While Joshua was certainly your physical type, all arms and chest, you quickly found out that the contents of his brain were just not for you. You weren’t religious at all and if he broke out into song, singing ‘Sunday Morning’ at or near you one more time, you might actually run away.
After going through the motions of saying goodbye, you pulled your phone out to dial Minghao as soon as you started walking home.
“Hello?” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.
“I need to understand your thought process with this one,” you shook your head in disbelief.
“Huh?” Minghao rubbed his eyes, pulling his phone away to check who had called. “Oh, hey! Sorry I just woke up.”
“Oh, did I wake you up?” you paused, “Shit, sorry! You didn’t have to answer me!”
“I didn’t know it was you! I also hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” Minghao chuckled and you heard some rustling of sheets in the background. “Sorry, what did you ask me again?”
“I need to know why you set me up with Joshua,” you frowned. “Do I give off a vibe that he’s my type?”
“Is he not?” Minghao wondered, “He’s more outgoing than Wonwoo, still handsome, and family oriented.”
“Okay, those things are true, but he’s also super religious, which I’m not. And I do not like to be sung at in public…or at all, I don’t think.”
“No, please,” Minghao started laughing, “Did he? I didn’t think he’d bring that out on a first date!” Minghao couldn’t stop laughing, practically kicking his feet in delight at the absurdity of it.
“Yeah, several times, in fact,” you rolled your eyes.
“Why are you so difficult to match for?” Minghao found himself asking. He was partially teasing, but also somewhat serious. People generally threw themselves at both Wonwoo and Joshua, so to hear you be so turned off by them was surprising and confusing.
“I’m not difficult! I think my expectations are more than reasonable,” you nodded firmly to yourself.
“Okay, elaborate on these expectations, please, because I’m clearly missing the mark.”
“Hm, well, okay. Someone funny and intelligent with a wide variety of interests or knowledge. Someone who would challenge me in ways that make me grow. Someone who also can understand that I should have my own endeavors and activities without feeling insecure. I dunno, someone who just gets me!”
“Very reasonable,” Minghao’s flat voice came back across the phone.
“It is reasonable!” you stamped your foot. You felt like he was teasing you again, but it was hard to tell over the phone.
“No, that’s helpful!” he clarified.
“Why are you asleep at 8pm anyways, you old man?” you suddenly remembered.
“Ugh, it was a long day,” he groaned into your ear, “I had to get to work early to prepare onboarding materials for new hires and then when I got home, I just passed out I guess.”
“Ah, well, do you want me to let you go? You should go back to sleep and catch up on yesterday.”
“No, I’m up now,” Minghao shook his head, reluctant to end the phone call. “Tell me about the restaurant, was the food at least good?”
You smiled, happy to stay on the line with him. The food had indeed been good and you described your meal and cocktails to him in vivid detail. You were now in your second month of knowing Minghao and your relationship had evolved into a tentatively comfortable friendship. Between all of the set up activities, you’d actually gotten to know him a bit and grown used to discussing and sharing other aspects of your lives. Minghao was definitely an introvert, but he was well balanced with an energy and enthusiasm that ensured you were never bored.
…
“Wait, I’m confused. You told me that the date with Minghao didn’t go well, but you’ve stayed in touch with him?” Danbi’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“What are you confused about? That’s exactly right,” you returned her confused look.
“Why would you stay in touch with someone you don’t like?”
“I never said I didn’t like him!” you shook your head, confused at her statement.
“You liked him, but the date didn’t go well? Why wouldn’t the date go well if you like him?”
“I can like him as a friend and not want to date him!”
Danbi narrowed her eyes at you. She didn’t think you were that petty, but it was almost as if you were purposefully maintaining a distance between yourself and Minghao just to spite her.
“So what do you two talk about?” she was curious.
“We’ve been setting each other up on dates! Supposedly he’s the friend group matchmaker, like me, but he’s pretty bad at it,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “But we talk about other things too! He likes art and fashion. We went to the textile exhibit opening a few weeks ago.”
Danbi shook her head; she was lost. Wasn’t that just a date? Luckily she knew you better than to prod too much further.
“Well that’s good! It’s always nice to make a new friend,” she smiled at you, “He should come to Soonyoung’s housewarming party next week!”
“Should he?”
“Yeah, of course! Jeonghan will be there and I think he invited a few of his coworkers too so see if Minghao wants to come!”
“Ah, I guess so,” you nodded, somehow nervous, “I’ll ask, but no promises.”
“Sure!” Danbi laughed, “Now let me show you some pictures of Doyun with Jeonghan and his new partner! Who you also have to meet!”
You giggled happily as Danbi flipped through her photos. Doyun had always looked more like Seungcheol as a baby, but now that he was getting older, he was taking on more and more of your friend’s features.
“Ah, he looks so much like you there! Ahhhh!” you shook your fists excitedly.
“He does look more like me recently, doesn’t he?” she beamed proudly at you.
For all the headache you had posed to her with this Minghao situation, she did love you and was grateful towards you for gently nudging her towards Seungcheol many years ago. You were very astute at reading others and as a result, she now had a wonderful husband and son. It had always interested and amused her that your insightfulness didn’t quite extend to yourself.
…
“Eeeee!” you and Soonyoung clapped your hands together excitedly after you’d sunk another ping pong ball into a plastic cup.
“Just perfect! Look at that technique! You duds don’t stand a chance!” he crowed, jeering at Seungcheol and Seokmin excitedly.
Danbi giggled excitedly at her husband’s rotten luck, to which Seungcheol pouted.
“Ya! Who are you even cheering for?!” he shouted playfully, leveling an accusing finger at his wife, inspiring another round of giggles.
“Me, of course! I can find her another husband, she can’t find another me!” you laughed, jumping up and down in delight at the way that Seungcheol fumed.
“You’re dead!” he furrowed his brows at you, “You’re so dead!” He made a show of stretching his neck and shoulders before taking his next shot at beer pong.
“Hah!” you shouted and shook Hoshi excitedly, collapsing into a puddle of laughter as Seungcheol’s ball ricocheted dramatically off of the rim and bounced anticlimactically across the ground. “Oh no, oh Cheol please I’m crying!” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes.
Minghao had slipped in quietly while you were taunting Seungcheol and he was shocked at the way you did it so loudly and unapologetically. He didn’t know Seungcheol quite that well yet, but he had been under the impression that he probably shouldn’t be messed with too much. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth before he moved away to grab a beverage.
“You made it!” Danbi appeared at his side while he popped the cap off of a beer.
“Hi Danbi,” Hao smiled kindly at her. He had met Danbi through Jeonghan a while ago and for whatever reason, she had really taken a shine to him.
“Did you find the place alright?”
“Yes, YN’s instructions were very easy to follow.”
“Great! Let me know if there’s anyone here that you haven’t met yet, but I think you may know them all!”
Minghao nodded. Looking around the room, it did seem like he knew most of the attendees. Jeonghan and his girlfriend were flanked by a few of their other coworkers. By some miracle Seokmin and Seungcheol had both managed to find babysitters tonight, and so were able to attend with their wives, Hana and Danbi. Joshua was on another date, after he and YN had not managed to hit things off, so Jeonghan’s friend group was short just one of the usual count.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” you laughed with Hoshi after winning yet another game of beer pong. You and he had been nearly undefeatable since college and it was nice to see that this hadn’t changed, even after he had moved away for a few years. “Oh pink?” you wondered aloud when you spotted Minghao chatting with Jeonghan over a beer.
“You’re here!” you interrupted their conversation easily, fingers itching to touch his pink hair. “Is this a fade out color?”
“Yes,” he laughed, “The murder scene every time I showered was starting to get old.”
“I can’t believe your hair hasn’t just fallen straight out of your head,” Jeonghan’s girlfriend shook her head with a laugh.
“Hah!” you laughed heartily, struggling to imagine Minghao bald.
“I’d love it if you didn’t curse me with this foul energy,” he rolled his eyes at all of you.
“Did you all see how I swept the floor with Seungcheol? Again?” you crowed excitedly to Jeonghan.
“Yes, yes, very good,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you. You were always such a braggart about pong.
“I can’t believe he lets you tease him like that,” Minghao gestured to Seungcheol incredulously.
“Ah, I’m a lovable scamp!” you shrugged, sticking your tongue out at your newest friend.
“That’s true,” Hao laughed, a soft smile crossing his face.
Jeonghan and his girlfriend both looked at Minghao with interest while your attention was pulled elsewhere. Danbi and Hana summoned you from across the room so you gave everyone a small wave before you left.
“So-,” Jeonghan opened his mouth to dig, but his girlfriend stopped him with a quick shake of her head. She knew Minghao would not respond to anything that direct, so it was best to meddle gently.
“What is it?” you asked once you were close enough to Danbi and Hana for them to hear you.
“We were wondering if Minghao had set you up on a successful date yet?” Hana asked, “If not, I actually met this kind of cool guy at the school yesterday.”
“Oh, no, not yet. I actually need to follow up with him on that,” you shook your head.
“Follow up? You’re being so project manager-y about this,” Hana laughed.
“I mean…it is a project that I’m managing,” you flushed, already knowing that you would say no to Hana’s proposed guy.
“Well, what do you think? He came to service the computers, so he works in IT. He’s tall, pretty broad, and has a very nice smile.”
“What’s his personality like?” you queried. It didn’t make any sense at all, but for whatever reason you felt guilty of the idea of being set by someone other than Minghao.
“I didn’t get to talk to him too much, but he seemed nice! He volunteers at an animal shelter.”
“Aww,” Danbi cooed excitedly.
“You’re going to make fun of me for saying this, but I don’t think I care,” you inhaled deeply before rejecting Danbi’s proposal. “It feels weird to think about going on a date with someone that Minghao doesn’t pick for me. So I kind of want to see how things play out with that?”
“I’m not going to make fun of you!” Danbi looked at you indignantly.
“I am!” Hana made a face at you, “You are so attached to him, like come on YN!” she gestured forcefully at you.
“Of course I’m attached to him, we’re friends!” you shrugged. “I’m attached to you doofuses too,” you gestured back with your palms up. Hana and Danbi laughed. Your love language was, indeed, teasing and they’d grown used to it long ago. You were watching them whisper to each other suspiciously before Danbi jutted her chin out, pointing at something behind you.
“Oh, JESUS!” you jumped after realizing Minghao was standing behind you. “Snuck up on me, fuckin’ hell,” you mumbled curses as you put a few paces between him and yourself.
“Let’s go play beer pong. Apparently you’re unstoppable and I need to witness this for myself,” he smirked, giving you a disbelieving once over.
“Don’t…,” you found yourself shivering under his gaze, “Look at me like that! I will win,” you let yourself think that you had recovered smoothly.
With each ball that Minghao sank into your cups, you stood up just a little straighter and your expression grew just a little more baffled. You’d never been in such a closely matched game of pong before and, honestly, you didn’t care for it.
“Hey, let’s make this more interesting,” Minghao spoke up when you were each down to one cup. You raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to proceed with his idea. “If I win, I take you out on a date.”
“I-,” you choked, heart clogging your throat momentarily. “What?”
“For research purposes,” he clarified, triple checking his foot placement as he squared up his aim. “You can give me feedback and that’ll help me better tailor my matches for you in the future.” He launched the ball into the air and it sailed into your final cup easily.
“I-, wait,” you stuttered, partially in disbelief over your loss and partially for a reason that you weren’t able to identify yet. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could accept it.
“What, are you scared?” Minghao stepped towards you. He felt a perverse joy in the way you were reacting to his win. Something about seeing you flounder tickled his brain very specifically.
“You lost fair and square!” Soonyoung waved you off to make room for the next players.
“What exactly would I be scared of?” you blustered as Minghao herded you away from the table. “A date with you?”
“Scared you’ll like it,” he laughed, peering down at you, stepping into your personal space just slightly.
“Hah!” you let out a honking laugh. That was absurd, right? “Fine, take me out on our little date. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of feedback.”
“Great,” he grinned at you, patting you on the head condescendingly.
You were baffled. You could tell you were blushing and you weren’t really sure if you could just blame it on the beer pong loss. You snuck a glance at Minghao, whose attention was back on the party, watching Soonyoung trounce Seokmin quite soundly. He was right, you were terrified for this date.
…
“Ugh you look so cute!” Hana squealed excitedly, “It’s such a shame it’s just for a practice run!”
You chuckled. Sure, it was true that this date with Minghao was just for research purposes, but it hadn’t stopped you from thinking of it as if it were real.
‘wear a dress or skirt. something short or unrestricted at the bottom and shoes you can move in’ was all of the instruction that Minghao had given you.
“Maybe he’s taking you dancing?” Hana wondered aloud. “It’s kinda romantic that he’s keeping everything a surprise!”
“So romantic,” you parroted at her sarcastically.
You didn’t know why, but you felt quite nervous about this one. You had been on more than your fair share of first dates recently, so it really didn’t make sense to feel this way about the fake one. Probably just because everything was a surprise.
“Ya! Why am I nervous!?” you jumped up and down aggressively, shouting at yourself.
Hana shrugged, even though she knew the answer. Best to let you come to your own epiphany. She fretted and cooed the appropriate amount as she helped you finish your makeup and hair. You were satisfied when you looked in the mirror, but that didn’t make your armpits any less sweaty. Thank god for prescription grade antiperspirant.
“Ready?” Minghao greeted you at your door with a bouquet of flowers around half an hour later.
“I think,” you eyed him suspiciously, still irked that he hadn’t spilled a single clue about your activities.
“Put these in water so we can go!” he thrust the bouquet at you impatiently.
“Okay, okay,” you muttered. You scanned the blooms quickly and were pleased and surprised that all of them were cat safe. He’d remembered. You grabbed an empty jar and plunked the stems into it before returning to Minghao. “Is this outfit acceptable?” you paused to check, turning in a full circle so he could inspect.
“Yes,” he nodded, eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it vanished just as quickly. “Now let’s go! We need to be on time.”
Minghao shepherded you into the car and drove towards your destination. You were, strangely, at a loss for words and so spent the time inspecting his car and marveled at how clean it was. Usually you couldn’t stop yourself from babbling about nonsense at him, but this simulated date seemed to have rendered you speechless. As he pulled into the parking lot, your eyes lit up reading the sign.
“Hana was right!” you grinned at him triumphantly. “It is dancing!”
“Yes,” he chuckled at your expression. It wasn’t like you were the one who had guessed right, but he’d never know that with the way you beamed at him. “Intro to Rumba! I thought it’d be fun to try something new together.”
“Rumba?” you thought hard. You weren’t well versed in ballroom dance styles, but the name rang a bell. You had definitely seen it on a ‘Something-est Things To Do With Your Partner’ kind of list. “I don’t know how to dance,” you whispered to Minghao as the other students filtered into the class.
“That’s why it’s fun,” he grinned down at you.
After beating you at beer pong last week, Minghao had been itching to get the upper hand on you again. While he wasn’t very skilled at ballroom, he did have some dance experience from his past. Rumba was also fairly sensual in nature and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to watching you squirm and be flustered over it.
With your hands tucked behind your back, you watched intently as the instructors demonstrated the short routine that you would work on during class. You did your best to keep your cool, but you felt like everyone probably heard the sound of your loud gulp as you registered just how close together you would be with Minghao. There was probably technically some distance between the instructors, but not that you could see with the naked eye.
Minghao blinked a few times as he watched the demo with you. This was closer quarters than any other style of dance he had ever tried before and he wondered if he had made a mistake.
“Okay, right hand to left hand. Leading partner’s right hand on the following partner’s waist. Following partner’s left hand resting gently at the back of the leading partner’s neck,” the instructions came.
“Okay, right hand here, left hand here,” you muttered to yourself as Minghao clasped his left hand into your right and you hooked your left hand around the back of his neck. You managed to follow the first set of steps without tripping over yourself too spectacularly, but the next combination threw you for quite the loop.
“So now comes a sexy part,” the instructors grinned mischievously, “Leading is going to spin the following out and then pull them back in to face them. And then following partner is going to drop in a slow and sexy wiggle, their hand trailing down the leading partner’s chest.
Oh. Your lips pursed as your mind painted the mental picture of what that would look like. You resisted the urge to glance furtively at Minghao, pink rising in your cheeks.
Next to you, Minghao blinked. Once, twice, and then one more time for good measure. He had been so busy considering how this class might affect you that he hadn’t even thought of himself. The idea of you trailing your fingertips down the centerline of his chest made him want to shake his head furiously.
“Five, six, seven, eight!” The rapid counts snapped both of you out of your thoughts. “Spin out!”
You held onto Minghao’s fingers tightly as you spun away from him.
“Fancy arm!”
You flung your arm out theatrically and were inordinately pleased to make Minghao laugh.
“Now tuck your arm as you spin back in!” the instructions continued.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing before you brought your arm back to your center and spun into Minghao’s chest. Slowly, your hips drew figure eights as you worked your way down into a squat and your eyes followed your hand’s slow trail down his chest. Like watching a train wreck.
Minghao looked to the instructors for the next directions, desperate to be not looking at you. He wanted to groan. Even in this wordless touch, you were mischievous, not drawing straight down, but rather trailing a wavy line, timed with the movement of your hips on the way down.
“Now leading partner, you are going to pull them back up! Forceful! Dramatic! What are they doing down there? They’re up to no good!”
You had wanted to laugh, but when Minghao dragged you back up to your feet and looked deeply into your eyes…all of that went out the window. For a moment, the directions barked by the instructors faded into the background and all you could hear was a soft buzzing in your ears as you held his gaze.
“Very good, very good you two!” the instructors clapped excitedly as they walked towards you. “Tension! Eye contact! That’s what the rumba is all about, excellent!”
“Thank you!” You almost shouted. You were so excited to be able to rip your eyes away from Minghao that you plastered a wide grin across your face and gave an awkward thumbs up to the whole class.
“How do you do this dance without falling in love with each other?” another student wondered aloud.
“You don’t!” the instructor replied with a laugh. “Every so often you get a pair that falls in love and gets married, but in general you break up but you keep dancing together because you have good physical chemistry.”
“Yikes.” you turned to Minghao with a bemused look on your face. You were relieved to see that the tension seemed to have dissipated and he found your instructor’s comments as strange as you did. The rest of the class passed with relative ease, but the feel of his fingers resting at your waist and nipping into your hips certainly lingered longer than was ideal.
“What’d you think?” Minghao asked as he started driving to the next destination.
“That was fun,” you nodded after some consideration. “Definitely out of the box and a new experience for me. Also a very good way to gauge physical chemistry. Honestly a very good early date activity. Ten out of ten.”
He preened under your compliment. You wondered what your next activity would be, but knew that asking would get you nowhere, so you tried to fill your brain with other thoughts. After a while, you ran out of things to think about and your eyes decided to regard Minghao as he drove. His right hand lingered at the gearshift, fingers tapping every so often as his eyes stayed glued to the road. You shifted in your seat as you watched the tendons of his forearms flex in a very distracting way. The way he looked when he was focused was…unfortunately attractive.
Minghao could feel your eyes on him as he drove. He struggled to keep his attention on the road as his mind played back snippets from class. Namely, the moment when he had pulled you back up to your feet and locked eyes with you for just a little too long. Your eyes had widened and your lips had parted just slightly as you gazed back up at him and rational thought had almost left him completely.
“No, Minghao! Really?!” you squealed excitedly as he pulled into the parking lot of the botanical garden. “You remembered!”
“Of course,” he nodded, parking the car. You had mentioned the Poisonous Plants special exhibit off-handedly a few weeks ago and he had filed it away in his brain. He liked the botanical garden too.
“Look how beautiful!” you gasped as you looked at the Atropa belladonna, or Deadly Nightshade. “I can’t believe a flower this beautiful is also poison! Isn’t that cool? Such a good name too.”
Minghao chuckled. You were making your little frog face again. He didn’t know if he thought of poison as cool, but he enjoyed seeing your excitement over such a morbid topic. The expression you made when you were enthralled by something was painfully endearing to him.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you wrapped your arms around him excitedly as you headed towards the exit archway of the garden.
“You’re welcome,” Minghao was surprised by your sudden physical affection. “You’re such a nerd, I’m glad you had a good time,” he teased as his arms folded around your waist naturally.
You wrinkled your nose at him playfully. You couldn’t help the slight hitch in your breath before you pulled away, looping your arm in his happily as you walked through the other areas of the garden. This closeness grew less and less foreign as the day went on and was directly correlated to your concern for your own sanity.
…
“So…what do you think?” Minghao inquired after you had settled in at your table at a rooftop restaurant and bar. He really enjoyed the ambiance here and thought you’d enjoy the food as well.
“Of?” you replied blankly, having been busy reading over the menu.
“Our date?” his brows creased together, he had not been expecting that response.
“Oh! Good! Really good, actually,” you nodded, trying to speak of it in a detached way. “You did a really good job picking activities and this restaurant. This menu is so interesting! But at the same time, I feel like you are at an unfair advantage because you know me pretty well by now. I don’t think this is a reasonable expectation to have for a first blind date. I also probably wouldn’t agree to so many things in one day with them, because what if we didn’t hit it off? Also wouldn’t let them drive me because what if they’re a murderer?”
“You think I’d set you up with a murderer?”
“You never know,” you shook your finger at him playfully, “People are full of surprises, unfortunately.”
Minghao watched you as you watched the sunset. He agreed with you, this had been a really good date. For whatever reason, you had leaned into the physical affection at the botanical garden and it had made his brain go haywire. He found that he not only didn’t want this date to end, but he wanted a second and a third (maybe to infinity) with you. He wanted to watch you try really hard at things that you had never done before and wanted to watch you make your little cartoon frog face when you were delighted by something.
“What?” you asked, turning back to meet Minghao’s lingering gaze.
“Nothing. I’m just having a really great time with you today,” he smiled back.
Your smile faltered as your heart pounded. You searched his face for some hint that he was teasing you, like usual, but it wasn’t there.
“Minghao!” an excited voice pulled your attention away suddenly. You turned to see two men, one tall and muscular and the other slighter and shorter.
“Mingyu, Jae,” Minghao waved at them easily, “Coworkers,” he explained to you as they approached. “This is YN.”
“Oh, are you on a date?” the taller man’s eyes flitted between you and Minghao, slowly coming to a realization.
“Wait no. YN. No, they’re not dating!” the other man interjected as he connected his brain cells, “Jeonghan told me about this! You two have been setting each other up on dates, right? Or something like that?”
“That’s right,” you laughed, “So sorry, who’s Mingyu and who’s Jae?”
“Ah, sorry, yes,” Minghao chuckled, “Mingyu and Jae,” he gestured towards them respectively.
“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, unable to help the way your eyes raked over Mingyu. He was your exact physical type and his eyes sparkled obviously at you when he talked.
“Well, we’ll get out of your hair! We were on our way out,” Jae nodded at you after not too long.
“I hope to see you again sometime,” Mingyu smiled at you, leaning down for another handshake before they left. Minghao bristled.
“Him,” you turned to Minghao, oblivious to his irritation. “Set me up with him, he’s my exact type!”
“Mingyu?” Minghao’s nose wrinkled slightly. “You don’t even know him.”
“He’s so hot though,” you exhaled theatrically, not really caring what his personality was like when he had a body like that. “That’s what a blind date is for, right? Blind to the red flags that I don’t want to see.”
Minghao scoffed at your absurdity. On the one hand, Mingyu was a perfectly nice guy. Maybe too eager and bubbly for you, but he trusted that he could treat you well. On the other hand, he had just been grappling with the idea of wanting you for himself, so the two sides of his brains clashed violently and he really had no explanation for the next word that left his mouth.
“Beg.”
“Excuse me?” you must have misheard him.
“Beg me. And I’ll set you up with him,” he leaned back, smirk playing across his lips as he teased you mercilessly.
“P-please?” you stuttered, thighs pressing together inexplicably at the look on his face.
“Cuter,” he goaded you, tongue tracing across his lips as the flush rose in your cheeks. Your heart threatened to stop.
“Hao, please?” your eyes became doe-like and your lower lip pouted out just slightly. You didn’t even know why you were humoring him, you’d never let a man make you beg for anything before.
“There, see? That wasn’t so hard,” he sat back up, clearing his throat slightly as he glanced away. “I’ll set it up,” he nodded, heart sinking in his chest.
“Great,” you smiled, chest feeling tight. Your heart was racing.
…
You found yourself perplexed and kicking a small pebble down the sidewalk after your date with Mingyu. It wasn’t that it had gone poorly, no in fact just the opposite. You were surprised that he had even been available to be set up because he was, on paper, perfect. He was funny, sweet, eager and all in that body? It was simply unfair.
No, the thing that you were confused and frustrated about was that you didn’t really want to go on another date with him. For whatever reason, the only feeling you could muster for him was a lukewarm fondness and it really made you mad. Typically, you would call Minghao to debrief, but you were mad at him too! Your date with him last week was the reason the bar was so unreasonably high now, after all.
“Damn,” you sighed to yourself as you gave the poor pebble another swift kick.
…
Minghao glanced at his phone, irritated to see that you still hadn’t messaged him with any updates. Dinner had to be over by now, right? Normally you at least snuck away to text him from the bathroom, so for his phone to be this dry could only be a sign that the date had gone well. Probably too well.
[mingyu]: ‘dude! YN is wonderful! thank you for setting this up!’
[hao]: ‘ah, so it went well?’
[mingyu]: ‘i think so! she’s cool as hell man’
[mingyu]: ‘she makes such a cute face when she gets excited’
Minghao saw red for a moment. The intensity of his jealousy caught him by surprise and he had to reign himself in before he replied to Mingyu’s text.
[hao]: ‘yeah, i like her too, lol’
Minghao threw his phone onto the sofa. Stupid idiot.
…
[hao]: ‘are you ever going to admit defeat or are you going to just ignore me forever?’
You had been doom scrolling in bed when his text appeared and before you knew it, you were calling him.
“Hey,” his voice was soft when he picked up. The way his heart had jumped when he’d seen your incoming call was unreasonable.
“Hi,” you greeted him, your voice sounded small.
“So…,” Minghao waffled. He didn’t really want to talk about Mingyu, but he wasn’t really sure what else to talk to you about. “Mingyu said he liked you.”
“Oh, did he?” you chuckled, “He seems like the type of person that likes everyone.”
Hao laughed because you weren’t wrong.
“It went well, though, right?” He wished that, like all the other dates, this one had been a dud too.
“It was okay,” you shrugged, “I don’t see myself going on another date with him though, to be honest. He’s a little too…I don’t know?” you trailed off trying to explain.
“Oh?” Minghao’s voice piqued with interest, “Well I’m starting to run out of friends,” he joked.
“I don’t think I want you to set me up with any more of your friends,” you sighed. “No more first dates for a while, I think.”
Minghao froze as he saw his opening. He knew he would forever be kicking himself if he didn’t take the shot now.
“Are you home?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, I’m in the middle of errands, but I’ll be there in ten. I have to ask you something in person.”
“Oh okay.”
Minghao didn’t leave much more room for discussion as he hung up and turned the car around, driving towards your place. You checked your appearance nervously as you waited.
[hao]: ‘here’
Your pulse pounded in your ears as you opened the door for him, more nervous now than you had been for your date.
“Hi,” he greeted you from under a black baseball cap. It was annoying how he looked so good in it. “Can I come in?”
“No,” you joked as you opened the door for him.
“So no more first dates, does that mean you’re officially tapping out of our game?” he asked, looking down at you.
“N-,” your instinct was to push back, but he was right this time. “I mean, yes, I guess so. I’m tired of this meeting people business, I just want to spend time with people that I already like.”
“Would that include me?” he grinned, stepping towards you and until you backed into the kitchen counter.
“I-, I have mixed feelings about you,” you answered honestly, unable to meet his gaze.
“Can I take you out on a second date?” he ducked his head towards yours, hands coming to rest at your hips.
“I-,” you squeezed your eyelids together. In the past you would’ve panicked, but this closeness was now familiar to you and you only wanted to sink into it further. “Maybe you should beg this ti-,” you raised your brows, flicking your eyes mischievously to his.
“Ah!” Minghao cut you off sternly. “I’d think twice about that.”
“But-,” you couldn’t help yourself.
He cut you off with a firm grip at the base of your throat. His longer fingers tapped against the side of your neck as he regarded you sternly. “Will you behave?”
You knew you should say yes. Part of you might have even wanted to say yes, but you were you to your core. “Maybe.”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” he teased you in a sing-songy voice. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“There,” you pointed to a door towards your right. Without so much as a warning, you found yourself being hauled and plunked onto the edge of your bed.
“You have been driving me crazy for months, so let’s see if I can return the favor,” he looked down at you, tongue poking in his cheek.
“Months?” you wondered, thighs squeezing together nervously.
“Yes, months,” Minghao reached out and patted you on the cheek condescendingly. “So picky and difficult about every single person that I set you up with. Were you doing it on purpose or did you really not notice?”
“Not on purpose! They just…,” you trailed off sheepishly.
“What’s that? Speak up.”
“They sucked cause you’re bad at picking,” you squinted at him defiantly. You hated that you loved the way he was treating you.
“Try again?” he grabbed you around the jaw, his fingertips pressing your lips into an unflattering fish face. You could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t humor you for much longer.
“They weren’t you,” came your muffled reply, your lips moving in an exaggerated manner between his long fingers.
“One more time?” Minghao’s eyes danced at you, fingers relinquishing their grip. He wanted to hear it again, clearly.
“They weren’t you!” you replied, sickeningly sweetly eyes creasing into sarcastic half moons as you smiled at him.
“Tch,” he scoffed, pushing you back onto the bed and climbing over you. “You are so difficult,” he shook his head as his eyes raked across you, admiring your shape. “You’re lucky I like you.”
You let out a simpering sigh as his lips nibbled from just behind your earlobe down to your collarbone. His teeth nipped roughly as his fingertips trailed from your knee to your hip and gripped tightly.
“Hao,” you sighed, “Kiss me?”
“Hmm, do you deserve that?” he rebutted, pulling back to look in your eyes.
“Please?” you pouted, tugging at the front of his shirt. “I’ll be good.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you,” he laughed, his lips grazing yours.
“Minghao, please,” you insisted and he indulged you.
Minghao brought his lips to yours, kissing you thoroughly. His hands kneaded possessively at your hip as you nipped at his lips. Your kisses were peppered with soft moans and exaltations.
“You make such desperate sounds,” he teased appreciatively. You flushed at his description, but he wasn’t wrong. “Lay back and let me appreciate you,” he pressed a kiss to your temple before helping you undress completely.
Starting at the bottom of the bed, he trailed soft, plush kisses from your ankles to your knees and then from your knees to your hips. He nipped, bit, and sucked his way up your inner thighs until you were glistening and slick for him. His fingers pried your legs apart, allowing him to taste you for the first time.
“Hao!” your thighs closed instinctively around his ears as he lapped long, leisurely strokes with his tongue. You heard him chuckle as he gripped above your knees, holding you open for him. He teased you with his hot breath, enjoying watching you shift and writhe, just for him.
“So gorgeous,” he rested his cheek against your thigh for a moment, enjoying the way your chest heaved with shallow breaths as you came down from the edge for the second time.
“Ming-hao!” you squealed as he brought his lips back around your clit, sucking with a torturous pressure. “I-, I-, I,” you malfunctioned, hand gripping his hair tightly as you came hard against his lips.
“Very good,” he grinned up at you, his lips and chin glossy with your slick. “Can I finger you now?”
“I mean, yes?” you laughed nervously, a little concerned at what his hands would be able to achieve after experiencing his mouth alone.
“Don’t cum until I say so,” he directed as his fingertips slid through your wet folds. “You are so wet,” he commented offhandedly as he pressed two fingers in a v-shape against you, squeezing around your swollen clit. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ shape as he ground his fingers against you, avoiding direct contact where you wanted it most.
“Hao,” you cried, hand resting around his wrist as you squirmed helplessly under him. “Why are you torturing me?!”
Minghao paused for a moment. He supposed he was going a bit more out of his way to undo you than was typical for him. It wasn’t fair, but his pent up jealousy was manifesting and you were there to pay the price.
“Are you telling me you don’t like it?” he asked, cocking his head at you.
“Well, no,” you blushed, sinking into the pillow shyly.
“Then let me torture you a bit, sweetheart,” he grinned sweetly at you, fingers pinching together firmly around your clit again. “You’re so incredibly wet, just for me?” he marveled rhetorically as he slid two fingers into you, parting your wet, warm walls.
“Yes,” you nodded, pressing your hips up to meet him. You rolled your hips, desperate for as much as he would give. “More,” you begged until he added a third finger, stretching you slightly.
“Look at you,” Hao cooed appreciatively, nipping at your upper thigh as he stroked his fingers in and out of your deeply. The scrape of his teeth oversensitized you suddenly and you became a whimpering, desperate mess quickly.
“Hao, please, darling,” you clutched at him urgently, “I need, please let me cum!”
“Cum for me, darling,” he cooed the pet name back at you as he kept up the pace until you had collapsed into a pile of mush for him. “So good,” he praised you, pressing soft kisses along your jaw as you recomposed yourself.
“Blurple?” you asked, now that you had the presence of mind to register his hair color. “This is pretty,” you grinned, running your fingers through the colorful strands.
“You’re pretty,” he nuzzled you gently, fingertips trailing across the underside of your breasts.
“Oh,” you flushed.
“You are.”
“You are…wearing too many clothes,” you observed impishly, fingers tugging at his waistband. He laughed as he helped you shrug off his layers.
“How would you like me?”
Minghao visibly thought as he slipped on a condom. “You would look absolutely gorgeous on top of me, riding me,” he smiled.
You flushed, grinning at his flowery praise as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself along his length. Your hands splayed across his chest and you took a moment to admire his lithe physique. “So handsome,” you whispered before lowering yourself onto him slowly.
“Fuck,” he hissed as you took him in completely. The tendons in his neck were taut as you drew back up and back down.
“You feel good, Hao,” you breathed, holding onto him for support as your hips found a comfortable rhythm. Each stroke, each intrusion made you shudder with pleasure and the wet sounds were joined by your soft moans and Minghao’s tense hisses.
“You feel incredible, petal,” he grabbed you tightly around the ribcage, bringing you down on him with slightly more force. You faltered at the additional impact.
“I’m so close,” you leaned forward, looking directly into Minghao’s eyes. Nodding, he gripped your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic crest as he bucked up, deeply, into you.
“Come with me, YN,” he coaxed breathlessly. The way he purred your name undid you. An anguished wail left your lips as you clenched around him, triggering his release as well.
“So did I earn a second date?” Minghao teased as he folded you into his chest, cuddling you closely.
“I think you might have,” you grinned up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.
“Danbi is going to be happy when she finds out about this,” Minghao chuckled into your hair.
“Oh we’re never going to hear the end of it,” you moaned. “Maybe let’s no-”
“Ah,” he reached to press your jaw shut and you stilled. You delighted at this subtle, domineering action. Quite a match indeed.
#minghao fic#svthub#minghao fluff#minghao smut#the8 fic#the8 smut#the8 fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#minghao imagine#minghao scenario#the8 imagine#the8 scenario#seungkwansphd:writes#we get along infamously#minghao fanfic#the8 fanfic
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Something Old, Something New
Title: Something Old, Something New
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader
Fandom: The 355
Word Count: 9.5K (whoopsie)
Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.
Warnings: infidelity, divorce, recreational drug use (marijuana), drinking, mutual pining, pet names (Gumdrop, baby), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v sex, mention of bodily fluids (creampie), public sex, if I forgot anything please tell me
A/N1: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Nick Fowler BINGO were: divorced, best friend’s brother, writer’s choice(prompt #802 from @creativepromptsforwriting), drunken confession, public sex. BINGO card at end of story.
A/N2: I have been working on this story for weeks and I really hope I have done the Nick Fowler fandom justice. It's my first time, and hopefully not the last time, writing for Nick. I thoroughly enjoyed writing him. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
Three Months Ago
The cardstock was rigid in your hands, the envelope discarded seconds ago. The confetti in the envelope litters around your Chucks as you bring your attention to the words embossed upon the invitation. You had been waiting for this day ever since you received the Save the Date announcement.
You ran your finger over the pretty lettering, its raised borders were a nice tactile touch. The peaceful pink, whispered white, and mellow merlot of the flowers against a hint of golden accents was a beautiful choice. Not too feminine, nor too masculine.
Turning the invitation over, you found more information.
‘Accommodations will be completely covered for your 8-night stay at The Ocracoke Harbor Inn by the family of the Bride. You will be staying in the fully-furnished Treasure Chest Cottage. Amenities include full-service linens, complimentary wireless Internet, and guest boat docking. Guests have access to a sound-side beach. Password for WI-FI given upon check-in. Nonsmoking, no pets.’
Leave it to the Fowlers to go nuts and rent out the entire inn for their only daughter’s wedding, you thought to yourself. You were not surprised at all, growing up as a rich girl’s best friend had its perks.
As if on cue, your phone started to play the opening notes of Losing You by Solange to signal an incoming call. Pulling your phone out, you smiled seeing Deanne’s name. You clicked Accept and raised the phone to your ear.
“Hello to the future Mrs. Alexander!” Your cheery demeanor not letting on how jealous you were of your friend’s impending nuptials.
Euphonious laughter rings through the earpiece and you can’t help but join in.
“Girl, can you believe it? I am about to tie the knot, be off the market, and settle down. I’m only 12% nervous about everything so I’m doing great,” she snorted, and suddenly you were a bit less jealous if this kind of anxiety is what she had to deal with, “Anyway, um, I was giving you a call because I wanted to ask if you got your invitation and I also wanted to see if I could save myself time in waiting for your R.S.V.P. and bug and pester you until you agree to let my parents pay for you to come spend a week with us and come to my wedding and–”
“Deanne! Stop with the run-on sentence, doll. Did you think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? God, I love that you chose Ocracoke as your wedding destination. So many vacations were spent getting into all kinds of trouble,” you recalled, images of splashing in the water as kids and lounging on the beach as teens replayed in your mind.
“Yeah. Hey, when we were little girls planning our dream weddings, I was serious when I said I wanted it on the beach on Ocracoke Island. But not in the summer because of bugs and heat, but in the winter so we get that beautiful off-season fresh air,” Deanne mused.
“Dee, it’s gonna be gorgeous. I cannot wait to see you in your stunning dress walking down that aisle. Just know that since I am your oldest friend, you pretty much owe me the bouquet,” you laughed, only half-joking.
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s already yours,” she bantered, clearing her throat before speaking again, “So, I also called because I wanted to vent a little, if that’s okay?”
“It’s always okay. You doing alright?” you asked, now worried that your friend was in trouble.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine. I have an update on Nick and Tori, though,” she paused, allowing your mind to wander.
The mention of your first crush’s name sent a shiver down your back. Many a moment had been wasted thinking about his pretty smile and grayish-blue eyes. You’d liked Nick before you knew you even liked boys. He was the heartthrob that trumped every teen dream of every other girl in America’s heart. In your mind, he was the closest to perfect you could imagine.
You responded, “Oh?”
“So, their divorce is finalized. My big brother is officially a divorcé. I would have thought that a man who was with someone for so long might be partying it up right now. But he says he’s focusing on work and, I don’t know. I just want him to be happy. And like, he’s getting divorced as I’m getting married and it feels so weird. It doesn’t seem fair,” she lamented.
“Dee, come on. You know Nicky wouldn’t want you to think like that. He loves you. You’re his favorite sibling,” you jested, trying to lighten the mood.
“Ha ha. I’m his only sibling. I better be his favorite,” Dee chuckled, happy to be distracted, “So that brings me to you, Miss Missy. Last I heard, you were dating some engineer guy? Do I get to meet him soon?”
You inwardly cringed, hopes dashed of being able to avoid the topic of your relationship status. Things with Curtis kind of fizzled out when you found his tongue down an intern’s throat. You had been bringing him dinner since he’d complained about the late nights at the office.
Turns out he was hungry for more than your baked ziti.
You explained all this to Dee, remembering the look on Curtis’ face when you poured the prepared food into his lap. He was so shook, it was beautiful.
“I didn’t want to waste all that food but he looked wonderful with my pasta all over his shirt and pants. He honestly deserved it. It was his favorite shirt too. I hope those stains never come out,” you huffed, feeling like you were right back in that office again.
“I have never been so proud of you. I wish I could put hot sauce in his underwear for hurting my girl. I’m sure if I just had a few minutes, I could come up with something more diabolical than that. But it’s what I have at a moment’s notice,” she retorted.
One thing you could always count on Dee for? Getting angry for you and using her beautiful and educated mind to come up with some way to make the person who slighted you pay for their misdeeds. It was both adorable and super embarrassing to have her tiny frame looking up into some bully’s face pointing her finger at them.
“Well, I appreciate your offer, but he is so not worth the energy. You have much better things to think about, like your wedding day. This is your cue to stop worrying about me, Dee,” you advised, a stern tone coloring your words.
“Fine, I will stop worrying about you out loud. You got it, girl. Anyway, I won’t hold you. Talk soon, ok? I miss you,” she said, and you could envision her getting bleary-eyed.
“I miss you too, Dee. We’ll get together soon, I promise,” you sighed, feeling guilty for letting your friendship dwindle over the years.
“I’ll hold you to it. Bye, babe,” she hummed.
“Bye.” You hang up the phone and close your eyes. Visions of what Dee will look like in her wedding dress cloud your thoughts. Little snippets of grayish-blue eyes and dark brown hair seep in and you can almost hear his laugh again. You open your eyes, blinking away the mental images that brought you joy for a moment.
‘This is fine,’ you thought to yourself. Yeah, totally. You’re only going to see your best friend from childhood get married, effectively ending your childhood with a pretty bow on top. You also were only going to be with the biggest crush you ever had for like, an entire week.
And he’s single.
And probably needy.
And...you had better get your jaw up off the floor if you were going to get anything done.
Three months is enough time to get your brain, your body, and your emotions in check before you make a fool out of yourself in front of your second family.
Right?
January 20th, 2024 – Day One
Standing on the deck of the Hatteras Ferry, you watch as Ocracoke Island comes into view. The sun is at its highest and you are thankful for your sunglasses shielding the the bright sunlight bouncing off the crystal clear waters. You can taste the salty air and you are instantly transported to memories of running around the decks of this ferry with Deanne and Nick while your mothers tried in vain to wrangle you all.
The island comes into view and you search the docks for a familiar face. Dee promised to meet you at the docks, but when you approach them she is nowhere to be found. You pull your luggage behind you as your shoulder bag decides to slide off.
Before it can hit the ground, it’s caught by the strap by a strong hand at the same time you reach out to grab it. You thank the kind stranger as you both stand to your full height and you are face-to-face with a grown-ass Nicholas Fowler. He says something and you don’t hear hide nor hair of what the hell he just said, you look at him and break into a smile and he chuckles and speaks again.
“I hope you don’t mind Dee got me to pick you up. She had some wedding stuff to do. I wasn’t listening,” he explains, adjusting his sunglasses and putting your bag on his shoulder. He gestures over to his black Lamborghini Urus.
Once you walk over, he puts your shoulder bag in the back seat. You step closer to him to hand him your rolling luggage. You are mesmerized as his strong forearms flex when he puts everything in the SUV.
You clear your throat and look around when he looks back at you, catching you watching him. He closes the back door and guides you to the passenger side, opening your door for you.
“Oh, you’re a full-service driver today, huh?” you joke, stepping past him. Your platform espadrilles clacking on the asphalt. Adjusting your strapless sundress, you climb in.
“Whatever service you require, Gumdrop,” he replies with a smile, making sure you are comfortable before closing your door.
That fucking nickname… He would call you gumdrop instead of your name more often than not. That’s all, he didn’t mean anything by it, right?
When you are both buckled in, you start the drive across the island. Comfortable conversation is easy between you two. It’s like you fall back into a safe space with him. You talk about old vacations, funny moments, and what you both are up to these days. Neither of you mentions either of your failed relationships and you can’t keep the smile off of your face.
“Hey, we still have an hour until check-in. You wanna grab a bite or go to the beach or something?” he suggests.
“Are you sure they’re not waiting for us?” you counter, wondering if it’s a good idea to have a little moment with Nick all to yourself.
“I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. No pressure, just a suggestion,” he presses, taking a second to look over at you and smile that smile that has had you in a chokehold most of your life.
After thinking about it for all of five seconds, you agree to have lunch at Plum Pointe Kitchen. You enjoy a generous helping of Drunken Chicken nachos while Nick gets the VooDoo Shrimp PO’Boy. You share half of your meal, and Nick refuses to let you pay for anything.
Making your way to the Ocracoke Harbor Inn after lunch, you finally meet up with everyone. Dee is in mid-conversation with someone when she sees you and Nick pull up into the parking lot. She walks over to you and pulls you into a very tight embrace. It’s like everything was chaos before you got here.
“Oh my goodness, I am so glad you are here. How was the trip? Did you eat? Did Nick bore you? I’m sorry that I couldn’t come and meet you, but we had a little mishap with the reservation for the hotel and then I thought I left my wedding dress at home, and then we–”
You cut off Dee before she can work herself into a frenzy again, “Dee! Breathe. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. And is that Matthew? Introduce me already, would you?” you encourage, trying to get your friend’s mind off of the previous debacle and onto the man walking over.
Dee introduces you to Matthew and he charms you with the way he dotes on Dee. He seems like the type to be able to handle her rambling and intense emotions. How he looks at her while she speaks makes you miss having someone look at you like that.
“Well, it’s just about 3 o’clock now. Let’s get checked in and settled, then we can get together later?” Matthew chimes in.
“Sounds good,” Nick agrees, turning to you, “Go ahead and leave your stuff in my car. I’ll take you to your cottage after we are all checked in.” You nod, trying to hide your excitement.
Once you are done with the receptionist, you get your key and the wifi password to your cottage. While waiting for everyone else to get done, you fiddle on your phone until Nick’s shadow looms over you. Looking up, you are greeted with his eyes no longer shielded by his sunglasses in the dim lobby.
“You ready, Gumdrop? We still have some time before Mom and Dad show up. And I think I remember Dee saying she would call when she was ready to go out,” he concludes, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous about something. But you don’t push.
“All set,” you say, smiling up at him feeling bold enough to wrap your arm around his while you walk out of the lobby.
Dee shouts after you to behave yourselves and tense up a bit while Nick chuckles, seemingly amused by his sister’s thinly veiled comment on two single adults being close. Damn them.
Nick opens the passenger side door for you again, closing it once you are safely inside. He drives to the Margaritaville Cottage where he will stay with his parents during the trip. He instructs you to stay in the car while he just drops his bags off and is back outside in a few minutes.
The next stop is your cottage, called the Treasure Chest. You snicker at the name, thinking it sounded more like a pirate-themed strip joint. When Nick asks what you’re laughing about, you tell him your thoughts on the name of where you are staying. The slow smile that spreads on his face makes you involuntarily clench your thighs, wondering what his days-old stubble would feel like between your legs.
He tilts his head just slightly at you, then turns back to the road, smile still intact. Luckily the drive is short as the cottages are fairly close to one another. Nick parks in the driveway and you both get out and stretch your legs. He comes around and grabs your shoulder bag and luggage, motioning for you to lead the way.
Walking up the steps to the door, you unlock it and are welcomed by the scent of fresh linen. The central air of the cottage is just this side of perfect and you drop your purse on the dining room table. Turning around, you see Nick walking into a room off of the living room.
“Holy shit, you got a King-sized bed,” he shouts from the bedroom.
Walking in, you sit at the foot of the bed next to Nick and start to untie your shoes. He follows suit and turns to you biting his lip, a question at the tip of his tongue.
Facing him, you ask, “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No. I, uh...I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” he notes. At your confusion, he holds up his left ring finger. A band of untanned skin around the base clues you in that he’s talking about his divorce.
“Nicky, I would never make you talk about it. It can’t be easy in that situation. I mean, I only broke up with Curtis a few months ago and we were only together for six months. I couldn’t imagine how a divorce feels after how long you and Tori were together,” you insist, placing a hand on his knee.
He covers your hand with his and nods. “Mom and Dad are pretty good about it. They don’t ask me how I’m doing with that sad look in their eyes anymore. But Dee? Jesus, when I told her about the incident, she was out for blood. I had to end up calming her down. All because someone broke her big bro’s heart. Love her, but she can get a little carried away,” he finishes.
“This is not to make you feel like you need to share, but you mentioned “the incident” and now I’m curious. Feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up. But I caught Curtis with his tongue down another woman’s throat. I don’t know for sure how long it had been going on or if they had done anything else together, but I knew at that moment that I was done. I am worth more than that. And so are you, Nicky,” you encourage, feeling a bit of weight lift off your shoulders after finally talking about your breakup.
“My situation was similar. Tori had been cheating on me for the last two years of our marriage with her boss. I had a feeling something was up, just didn’t want to believe it was something like this,” he reveals, continuing, “But I am moving on, so to speak. I’m not holding out anymore for her to come crawling back to me with a sad story and all that. Even though I hope that she falls in a sinkhole.”
You both laugh and continue talking, taking your minds off of your breakups. You reminisce about all of the times you’ve stayed on the island during vacations. You giggle over dumb stories of you all as teens in high school, hiding weed from your parents and drinking on the beach til it was time to sneak back into the hotel.
You get an idea and you tell Nick to give you a minute before you go back into the living room to retrieve your purse. Coming back into the bedroom, you pull out a vape pen and wiggle it in front of Nick’s face, a devilish smirk on your lips.
“We’ll just take one hit each and we will be fine. Just a bit more mellow,” you offer, pulling him to the balcony off of the living room. You each occupy a wicker chair and you hand over the device.
“Gumdrop, you little devil,” he takes the pen from you and inhales, closing his eyes and holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it out. The smoke dissipates quickly and you can see the weight lift off of his shoulders. Handing it back to you, he exhales loudly and leans back in his chair.
Putting the tip in your mouth, you hit the button and inhale. Warm vapor fills you and you release the button, holding in the smoke for a beat and then letting it out toward the sky. You put the pen down on the table between you and fold your legs under you, letting your dress cascade down.
Sitting in companionable silence with Nick feels great. Neither of you feels the need to talk while you listen to the sounds of nature around you. People walking around the cottages, cars driving by, and the distant waves from Pamlico Sound make you wish you had gone to the beach earlier.
“Fuck, that was only one hit and I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you remark, swaying to a song that isn’t playing with your eyes closed.
Nick looks over to you and smiles, “Must be jelly ‘cause jam don’t shake like that.”
You open your eyes and turn to him, your mouth twitches before you break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nick soon follows and you both are taken over by the giggles. You settle down soon enough, still feeling the buzzing calmness of being high.
“The world needs more people like you,” you beam.
“Nah, I like being unique,” he replies, his phone chiming. Picking up a video call from Dee, “Hey Sis.”
“Hey, me and Matt were gonna go for dinner and drinks, you in?” she asks.
“Yeah, that sounds...good,” Nick answers for himself while looking at you to get your answer.
“Ok, well get ready and meet us at Oyster Company. And tell my best friend that she is coming, no ifs, ands, or buts. See you both soon!” With that, she ends the call.
“So...our decision has been made for us. Do you need to change or anything?” Nick wonders, gesturing to your traveling attire.
“If I take this dress off, I am not going out. Besides, I like this dress. I think I look positively adorable. But I will change my shoes to something more comfortable,” you finish before Nick can comment on how he also likes your dress. You pick up the vape pen, make your way back to your luggage, and pull out some flat sandals.
Once you are ready, you make your way back outside and are surprised to see Dee and Matt parked on the street outside of your cottage. “We decided to pick you up. Matt is DD tonight, so we can all get a little loosey-goosey. Plus, I can always tell when Nick is high, so get in losers!”
Nick snorts, and you are mortified to be found out, but you quickly get over it once you are in the backseat of Matt’s Audi Q4. The short ride to the restaurant was spent with Nick’s left leg brushing against your right leg. He was either manspreading or he wanted to touch you and wanted to keep it under the radar.
Either way, you were excited to feel his warmth next to you.
When you make it to the restaurant, you sit at a high table and it almost feels like a double date. Especially when your waitress congratulates Dee and Matt on their wedding while remarking that you and Nick make a cute couple as well. Your face warms up and you suddenly feel like every eye is on you.
Nick comes to your rescue, answering the waitress with a smile, “My girl’s a bit shy, is all. Can we get a pitcher of beer for the table to start? And also two shots of Crown Royal Vanilla for me and the little lady. Thanks.”
If it was possible, you would have melted through the floor and evaporated, but instead, you just hide behind the menu until Nick pokes his head in.
“That wasn’t to embarrass you, I swear. But I got nervous that she was gonna try and flirt with me, so I dragged you under the proverbial bus with me,” he admits, his lopsided smile only making you want him more.
“Fine. You’ll just have to make it up to me,” you warn, a devious grin appearing on your face.
You put down your menu just as the waitress comes back with the drinks. Taking both shots, you hand one to Nick. Staring in each other’s eyes, you clink your shot glasses and then tap them on the table before taking the shot. The sweet burn of the liquor warms you from within while Nick’s eyes on you melt whatever nerves you had previously.
A cleared throat breaks your trance, your focus changing from Nick to Dee.
“I talked to Mom and Dad and they won’t get here ‘til Friday afternoon with the rest of the guests. Dad said he had a few things to take care of and not to worry. Of course, I worry tenfold because he told me not to,” Dee interjects, busying herself with pouring beer into her frosted glass.
“Baby, they’ll be here as soon as they can. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about anything,” Matt insists, moving a strand of hair away from Dee’s face before kissing her.
“Promise to keep me occupied?” she requests, a sinful smile on her face.
“I do,” he jokes, clearly proud of himself for making his fiancée blush.
“First of all, how dare you? Secondly, that was almost too cute so watch yourself,” she laughs.
You roll your eyes at the happy couple and smile, going back to looking over the menu. The waitress comes back to the table and takes your orders. Over the meal, you get to know Matt a bit more and you can see how Dee fell in love with him. He’s intelligent, funny, and charismatic. The way he talks about and to her makes you so happy to know your friend found love.
When they turn to talk to each other, you and Nick spark up a conversation about work. He tells you what he can about working for the government, keeping the specific details to himself. You regale him with stories of your time as a freelance writer. You’ve written for dozens of publications, but you just want to get your original works out there for people to enjoy.
After mentioning a few pieces you wrote for GQ, Nick expressed interest in reading your articles. You try and downplay your skills, but he presses you for the links. Taking out your phone, you realize that you don’t have his number.
While you exchange digits with Nick, you are too busy to notice Dee casting a sidelong glance and smiling to herself. You ramble on as you send him link after link of some of your favorites. With your face in your phone, you don’t notice the way Nick looks at you with a mix of pride and hunger.
“Well, I am ready to call it a night,” Dee yawns, getting everyone’s attention, “But I could use a nightcap. Who’s up for a trip to the ABC Store? We can make it before they close.”
Everyone agrees and after the check is paid, you all pile into Matt’s SUV for the quick drive to the liquor store. You browse the aisles for a bit by yourself. Filling up your basket with a bottle of wine, some whiskey, and a six-pack of hard seltzers, you surmise that this will sustain you for the week ahead and go in search of the others.
You find Nick in front of the beer cooler, hard at work trying to decide between a 12-pack of Sam Adams’ Cold Snap and Harpoon’s Long Thaw. You suggest he get both and he agrees.
Meeting Dee and Matt up at the front of the store, you stand next to Nick in line and he laughs at the contents of your shopping basket. He puts his beer up for the cashier to scan and has you do the same, paying for your items.
A little piece of you feels taken care of and you thank him while continuing to tell him he doesn’t have to. He just shushes you and says you can make it up to him later. Before your mind can think about what that might entail, the sale is rung and bagged. Nick picks up the beer and you grab the bag of your things.
Nick asks Matt to just drop him off at your cottage since he left his car there. His cottage is literally next door, but you’re not exactly gonna deny yourself the company. Dee and Matt drive away and you turn back to Nick. You both laugh nervously and you surprise yourself by speaking up.
“So, um. I was gonna have a weed and whiskey moment to myself, but I’d be willing to share if you’re interested,” you hint, watching as he weighs his options.
“Lead the way, Gumdrop,” he replies.
He follows you in, closing the door behind him. He puts his beer into the fridge along with your hard seltzer. You put the wine on the counter and take out the whiskey while Nick finds two short glasses in the cabinet. Pouring a generous amount in each one, he offers you a drink and you take a sip of the amber liquid.
Letting the whiskey sit in your mouth, you savor the hints of vanilla and spice. You reach in your purse for your vape pen and take a hit of it before offering it to Nick. Taking a long pull off of the pen, he exhales and you watch as his shoulders relax. You both take another sip of whiskey and revel in the dual flavors of the weed and whiskey.
You take your glass and the bottle, moving onto the patio off of the living room, and sit down in one of the wicker chairs while Nick takes the other. The conversation comes easily enough. Mostly high thoughts and random memories come to mind. After a while, you put on some music and when 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps comes on, you can’t help but dance in your chair.
Nick stares while you close your eyes and move your hands to the trip-hop classic. You spend the entire song moving to the downtempo beat and enjoying your crossfade. The trance you were under slowly dissipates as the song ends and Pendulum by FKA Twigs starts.
When you open your eyes, Nick is pulling you to stand up. You’re lost as to what he is doing until his hands go to yours, pulling them to rest around his neck while he holds your hips. As the song continues, you follow his slow lead and sway to the intimate and mesmerizing indie hit.
🎶
You're younger than I am broken
I dance feelings like they're spoken
So my conversation's not enough
So lonely trying to be yours
Running through sliding doors
So lonely trying to be yours
When you're looking for so much more
🎶
By the time the song ends, the heat between you is unmistakable. Your hand tangles in his hair when he pulls you impossibly closer. Mere centimeters separate your lips. All you would need is to lean just one step closer and you’d finally get to taste his kiss.
Nick beats you to it and his hands pull your face to his, crashing your lips together. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips and he swallows it adding in his own grunts and groans. Kiss after kiss, you radiate carnality and passion.
Breaking the kiss, you watch as he licks his puffy bottom lip. You take in a breath of air and prepare to dive back in but Nick voices his thoughts.
“You are gonna be the death of me, Gumdrop,” he sighs, and at your brows furrowing he continues, “You’ve only been back in my life for a day and I’m already thinking of ways to keep you in it. Don’t hate me, but I think we should chill out, just for tonight. I swear, if you still want this by tomorrow night, I am all yours. But you better be all mine. Please, tell me you can wait for me?”
“Tomorrow night and you’re all mine?” you plead, and he nods.
“Less than 24 hours, baby. Show me that these feelings aren’t just from the substances in our system,” he insists, and you wanna fuck him even more now after he says that.
You nod and he speaks up, “Need to hear your words, baby, like a big girl.”
“Fuck...yes, I can wait. I can wait for you, Nicky,” you whimper and he rests his forehead against yours.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, lifting his head from yours, “Now, why don’t we call it a night before I go back on my word? You look so good in this dress and I really wanna be good.”
Agreeing with him, you clean up your empty glasses and move the bottle to the counter next to the wine. Nick pulls you into him one last time, snaking a hand down to your ass and grabbing a hefty portion of it before a hardy slap lands on your left cheek. He only snickers at your yelp and nibbles on your bottom lip.
“Keep that same energy for me because tomorrow I’m not holding back,” he vows, and if you weren’t leaning into him, your legs would’ve surely buckled. If he notices the tremble go through your body, he makes no mention of it and for that you are grateful.
“Goodnight, Nicky,” you hum.
“Sleep tight, Gumdrop. And do me a favor?” he challenges, at your nod he continues, “Save it for me. I’m gonna take care of you tomorrow, so no need to touch that kitty tonight, right?”
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Right.”
He leaves and once the door is closed, you lean back against it, your hand going to your neck where your pulse is playing a sick beat against your skin.
Less than 24 hours, you think. You got this.
That night, you dream of grayish-blue eyes and large hands roaming your body.
January 21st, 2024 – Day Two
You wake just before 10:30 am and are greeted with a good morning text from Nick. He lets you know that he is taking you out, just the two of you. Since Dee and Matt are enjoying a couple’s spa package, he figures it would only be right to hit some of your favorite places on the island.
You are dressed and out the door by noon. Nick takes you to pick up lunch at Taqueria 504 Suazo’s and you drive out to rent a Jeep Gladiator at for a few hours to drive on the beach. One of the best things about this island is that everything is so close. After 5 minutes, you are at your destination.
Nick drives out a ways past the other people enjoying the off-season and stops about a minute after the last two fishermen you see. Guess he wanted a secluded spot, you think to yourself. While you get the food, Nick grabs the beach chairs and umbrella that he rented. The ocean breeze is agreeable enough, but you are glad that you brought a thin sweater to keep the chill off.
Once you sit down, you hand over Nick’s food and he digs into his burrito while you munch on your fish tacos. When your meal is finished, Nick puts your leftovers in the Gladiator and lets down the truck bed. He beckons you over and helps you sit on the edge and he climbs up and sits next to you while you both look at the water.
“Ya know, the last time we came out here I was just finishing my third year at Virginia Tech. You and Dee were seniors. I remember hoping upon hope that you would apply to VT and I remember you telling me you were accepting a scholarship from Princeton. I just sucked it up and congratulated you. Even though I was hoping you would understand why I wanted you close, I was so proud of you for venturing off on your own. You were always one to go after what you wanted. I just couldn’t stop wanting to be what you wanted,” he confesses, looking off into the water.
“I wanted you, Nicky. Trust me, I did. But I was so afraid that I had a dumb little crush on someone who would never see me as someone other than his little sister’s best friend. The last time I saw you, I thought it was right to push away the idea of you ever having feelings for me. I also may have been afraid of what Dee would say. She’s kind of protective over both of us, ya know?” you finish.
“That girl can be a vicious little thing when she wants to,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “But don’t you think it’s kind of a sign that she had me pick you up from the ferry? And how suddenly today, we have a free schedule to do whatever we want together? I know my sister, and she’s done this before. She matched me up with my high school girlfriend, Beth.”
“Ugh, Beth with the braces and bangs. I used to call her Triple B behind your back. I hated her so much,” you mutter, trying to push the image of them kissing out of your mind.
“Yeah, well. I knew you hated her, but me being an idiot teenager didn’t exactly know that meant you liked me. I just thought you didn’t like her because she was kind of a bitch. She was plenty nice to me, but she could be...a little scary, at times,” he laughs, surprising himself.
“So...you think Dee would be ok with...this?” you say, gesturing between the two of you.
“I just think there is no way she would let us be alone together if she wasn’t halfway hoping it would work out,” he guesses, “Plus, honestly? We’re adults. We’re allowed to go after what makes us happy.”
A slow smile spreads across your face and you pull Nick in for a kiss. You don’t want to jinx it but he makes you happy too. The way he looks at you like you hung the moon, the way he listens to you and asks questions and the way he kisses you?
It just has to be real.
Packing up your beach equipment, you head back to drop off everything. Getting back into his SUV, you head around the island and view some of the sights. You go shopping and pick up some new knick knacks to take home. Visiting the lighthouse, you take some photos and make sure to bring Dee and Matt here before you leave the island.
Since most of the island’s restaurants are closed on Sundays, you venture to Ocracoke Variety Store and opt for cooking dinner together. After you have all the ingredients you need for a simple fish fry, you head back to your cottage and you and Nick get your hands dirty.
You have him cutting up potatoes for steak fries while you are preparing the batter for the fish. When dinner is ready, you sit at the dining room table with soft music playing in the background. While Nick wanted to take you out for your first date, he could appreciate the quiet setting with just the two of you enjoying each other’s company.
Finishing your meal, Nick takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile and warmth radiates in your cheeks. You hate to admit it, but you wish you had a little liquid courage right now. But the nerves you feel only cement that this is happening.
He pulls you up from your seat, the hunger in his eyes evident from his blown-wide pupils. Leading you into the bedroom, he stops just short of the end of the bed. Standing behind you as you face the bed, he runs his hands down your bare arms and whispers in your ear.
“I cannot wait to take you apart, Gumdrop. But,” he starts, turning you around to face him, “First, I just want to take my time and worship this beautiful body I know you’re hiding from me.”
If he wasn’t holding you up, you would have melted into the carpet. But he’s there with firm hands and a gentle grip. Helping you out of your dress, he lays it on the chair in the corner. Coming back, he admires the white lace bra and panty set that accentuates your body shape.
His lips come back to yours, tasting your desire and wantonness with every kiss. Wrapping an arm around you, he guides you to lay back on the bed while maintaining the liplock. He kisses down your neck and across your collarbone while his hand unclasps your bra and removes it from your body.
Laying a kiss between your breasts draws a quick inhale from you. You can tell he’s proud of himself when he looks up at you while he licks one pert nipple, the other between his thumb and forefinger. He sucks on it as if he could siphon gold from your tits. Switching to the other, he gives it the same attention.
The noises that come from him as he plays with your breasts are enough to make you shiver. He whimpers when you moan and throw your head back. He groans when he kisses down your belly, stopping to look up at you before he plants a quick kiss upon your covered mound.
He pulls down your panties at such an agonizing speed. Nick has to squeeze his dick through his pants when a string of your wetness stretches from your pussy to your underwear. Spreading your legs apart, he feasts on the view of your lips opening like a flower before him.
He wanted to go slow, he really did. But once he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your swollen nub, he is mesmerized by the taste of you. He goes back and forth between sucking on your button and lapping up whatever nectar drips from you. You can feel yourself inching toward the finish line, and he is right there to talk you through it.
“Fuck...you taste like Heaven...that’s right, baby...let go and cum for me like a good girl,” he commands between licks and kisses.
You’re nothing if not a good listener and seconds later, your walls are clamping around his fingers. You’ve never cum like this before and it washes over you like a warm waterfall. He removes his fingers from your wet opening and sucks them clean before moving up the bed to kiss you.
Tasting yourself on his tongue, you are beyond turned on. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he sits up to pull it off. Running your hands over his chest, you pull at the button of his pants.
“Use your words,” he urges, his hands stopping yours from moving further.
“Need to feel you, Nick. Please fuck me,” you beg, all thoughts gone from your head.
“There’s my good girl,” he replies, standing up from the bed to undress fully. Climbing back on the bed, he kneels between your legs. He strokes himself slowly, eight inches of uncut cock staring you in the face. He squeezes the base and you can tell he is just as excited as you are.
You crook a finger at him and once again, he is on top of you. With nothing between you, you’re impossibly close and you only want to get closer. Your hand soon finds his erection and he hisses at the contact, groaning when you stroke him.
He leans on one forearm while his other hand guides his tip between your lips, gathering some of your slick before entering you. You both groan loudly once he is fully settled inside you.
“You good, baby?” he asks, anxious to start moving his hips.
“God, yes. Fuck me, Nicky,” you plead, feeling so full when you arch your back.
Foregoing words, Nick retracts his hips and thrusts into you. The wet squelch as he fucks you is music to your ears, just like the way he tells you how beautiful you are in between kisses. He uses your breasts as handholds while he pummels your snatch.
The way he looks into your eyes while he plunges inside you excites you so much that you don’t even notice when a tear escapes your eye. He kisses it away, trailing his lips to your neck where he sucks at your pulse point. At this point, you couldn't care less about a hickey. You just want to be his.
Your next orgasm surprises you and you squeeze his cock from the inside, coating him in your cream.
“Good girl, coming all over my fucking dick. Feels so fucking good when you tighten around me like that. You are taking me so well, Gumdrop. Yes. You. Are,” he grunts, punctuating the last three words with deep thrusts inside you.
Flipping you over so you are on top, Nick grabs your hips and you start to ride him. You bounce on his cock like it’s the last time you get to fuck. By the mewls coming from him, you are doing it just right.
You feel another climax on its way, slowly building up in your core. Nick swats your hand away when you go to rub your clit. He licks his thumb and massages your neglected pearl until you are unable to hold it in any longer. The dual stimulation is too much and you gush, soaking Nick’s abdomen and your thighs.
“Oh fuck, baby. Such a good fucking girl for me. You must want my cum inside you with the way you’re...riding my dick. Shit, baby, I’m gonna blow. Where do you want it, baby?” he asks, you reply by doubling down on your hip motions.
“Right there, Nicky. Cum inside me, please,” you implore breathlessly.
“Yes, baby. Gonna cum for you, gonna fill you up so good. Ugh, fuck, here it comes,” he whimpers, his hold on your hips so tight to keep you close to him.
You feel every twitch of his cock, his muscles pulling taut across his arms and chest as he floods your canal. Your name on his lips as he comes down is a badge of honor. Yes, you did that shit.
He pulls you down to kiss him, shallow thrusts keeping him semi-hard before he pulls out. He lays you down next to him, cuddling you close and kissing your forehead. You start to fall asleep but you can feel Nick moving off the bed. Your hand shoots out to grab for him, but he shushes you.
He goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running before he comes out with a wet washcloth. Wiping down your sensitive folds, he takes care of you so well. Putting the washcloth back in the bathroom, he comes back and helps you get under the covers and he snuggles in with you.
With your arms and legs entangled in one another, you drift off peacefully.
January 22nd – January 26th 2024
The days before the wedding are spent enjoying the island with Nick, Dee, and Matt before the other guests arrive. More than once, Dee has cornered both you and Nick, asking embarrassing questions. You both say nothing, feigning ignorance even though Nick has moved into your cottage over the week, abandoning the cottage that he was supposed to share with his parents.
That being said, once his parents do finally make it to the island, he doesn’t even try and act like he isn’t staying with you. The smile on his father’s face says it all, he approves. His mother is far too preoccupied with getting everyone together for the wedding rehearsal to notice anything.
That is until she catches you and Nick making heart eyes at each other as you stand in for the Bride and Groom in rehearsal. Yes, it was a bit too soon to be playing Wedding Day with a man whose divorce is less than 100 days old.
But when you know, you know.
At dinner, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you don’t notice Nick following after you. Before you can enter the ladies’ room, a hand on your arm pulls you into the nearby gender-neutral bathroom.
You turn around and are met with hungry eyes before he descends upon you. Turning you around to face the mirror, he puts your hands on the sink and sinks to his knees, his hands roaming under your dress and up your legs until he pulls down your panties. He pulls out his already hard dick and pumps himself a few times before sliding inside you.
“Don’t fucking move, baby. Keep looking at yourself in the mirror, and your hands stay right where they are. You thought you could get away with teasing me in this tight fucking dress,” he breathes, “I want you to watch yourself while I fuck you til you’re dripping for me like the good girl I know you can be.”
When he places his hands on your hips, he begins a steady pace. He watches you in the mirror as your orgasm takes you over without warning. You squeeze him, your walls fluttering and coaxing him to follow you when you cover him in your juices.
But he surprises you when he pulls out and pulls your panties back up. When you turn around to ask why, he only kisses you and whispers in your ear, “I’ll get mine later, don’t you worry.” That only fills you with a little dread, your legs still wobbly as Nick tucks himself away and straightens his outfit. “Can’t have them knowing I just got my dick wet, right baby? See you back out there.”
He exits the bathroom and leaves you with slick running down your legs and your brain falling out of your ears. And he’s worried about you being the death of him?
You straighten yourself and use the bathroom for its intended purpose. Once back in the banquet hall, you pray to any god who will listen that you don’t look like you just got some dick. You see Nick and Matt in a conversation like he’d been here the whole time. When Dee asks why you look flustered, you lie and say you’re just a bit tired.
Nick overhears you talking to Dee and interjects himself into the conversation, “Why don’t we go get some fresh air? Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take care of her.” Helping you out of your chair, you both say goodnight to those at dinner.
Nick takes you back to the cottage, pulling you behind him as he walks out onto the balcony. Crashing his lips to yours, his hands scrunch up the fabric of your dress until you feel the night air chill your skin.
“Hands on the railing, baby,” he says, peeling your soaked panties from you.
Nick’s pushing inside you in the next breath and it’s like he belonged there all along. Holding onto your hips, he begins his onslaught. All you can do is hold yourself up and be happy that no one is walking down this road because fuck they would be able to see you getting absolutely railed without abandon.
Your grip on the railing is faltering as he slams into you and he takes pity on you. He uses the grip on your hips to pull you back so you sit on his lap while he sits in the wicker chair. He moves you up and down on his dick while saying the filthiest things to you.
Once your climax hits, his pace falters and he thrusts up into you. His tip hits your cervix as he pumps you full. He holds you against him and kisses up your neck as you lay back on his chest. For a few moments, all you both can do is breathe and caress each other.
His dick slips free of you and you feel his load dripping from your thoroughly used hole.
“Come with me back to Virginia,” he whispers, surprising both of you, “Don’t say no just yet. Think about it. We don’t leave for a couple of days. I have not been this happy in a very long while and I think I make you happy too. Just think about it, Gumdrop.”
A million things go through your head at the thought of giving up your life in New Jersey. This was a big step after only a week of playing house. Your brain comes up with so many what-ifs and reasons to not leap. But then one thought sticks, and you smile.
When you know, you know.
January 27th, 2024 – Wedding Day
You were never a big crier, but you shed many tears watching your childhood best friend marry the love of her life. It fills you with hope that everything does happen for a reason. While listening to their vows, you wonder if you could ever make that type of commitment. At that moment, Nick squeezes your hand and you smile up at him. Like he could read your mind, he seems to always know what to do to give you comfort.
Then again, he has known you most of his life. And when you think about it, it has always been him. A distant memory replays in your head of him simply putting a band-aid on your skinned knee when you were nine and he was twelve. Even then, he was there for you with a smile and a friendly hug.
The wedding reception is an all-out party but you expect nothing less from the Fowlers. The music, the food, and the atmosphere are perfect. Dee enjoys herself and is just happy to be married to Matt. And you are so happy for her, to see her without a care in the world.
Nick focuses on you the entire night, making sure you are comfortable and that you have everything you need. You sit in his lap, effectively confirming any rumors that may have spread about you two. His hand on your knee is warm and you want to sneak out of here and take him to the nearest closet. But he doesn’t let you move an inch once he has you in his clutches.
The wedding photographer snaps a pic of you squealing when Nick plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. The guests around you simultaneously swoon and groan, depending on their relationship status. Not that you care, you had your man. That’s all that matters.
After the wedding, you and Nick sneak off to a secluded area of the beach to look up at the stars. Taking off your shoes, you don’t mind the sand between your toes. You spend most of the night on the beach, just enjoying each other’s company under the moon.
You are lucky enough to see a few shooting stars, and you can’t stop yourself from making a wish or two. Wondering if Nick made a wish, you open your mouth to ask him but close it just as quickly. You know his wish already and only you could make it come true.
Coming back to the cottage is bittersweet. The last night of your vacation is spent lying naked with Nick. No sex, just intimate cuddling. You loved how safe you felt in his arms, and you couldn’t deny yourself this feeling.
January 28th, 2024
You’re nervous all morning and Nick tries his best to keep your mind off leaving the island. But all you want to do is spend all day in bed with him.
Saying goodbye to Dee that day is full of teary-eyed hand-holding, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You hug her mother and father and thank them for inviting you.
Nick drives you to the ferry, thinking for all the world that this is the last time he will see you. But like you continue to do, you surprise him when he’s helping you with your bags.
“So, I have some things to clear up in Jersey, but I was thinking Valentine’s Day is just a couple of weeks away. You can come to my place and we can spend some time together. I may not be ready to move 7 hours away just yet. But I know that I am not ready to be without you. I want you to know that I want this, whatever this is,” you admit, gesturing between the two of you.
“I can be amenable to that. On one condition,” he offers, taking your hands in his.
“And what is that one condition, Nicky?” you press, wondering what else he could want or if your terms weren’t enough.
“When we are with each other again, I get to call you my girl. That’s it. Be mine, and all that?” he laughs, watching as the frown lines on your forehead disappear and a smile grows on your face.
“You had me for a second, Nicky. But, why wait? I’m all yours already. Plus, I’ve already planted my flag in your back pocket,” you tease, snaking your hand around to goose him.
“So that would make me your man, then? And you’re my girl. Makes me wanna ask what made you decide to try this with me?” he hesitates, half wanting an answer and the other half just happy that you said yes.
“Hey, like I always say,” you start, wrapping your arms around his neck, “When you know, you know.”
END…?
A/N: All of the places in this story are real, this is not an advertisement for Ocracoke Island, NC btw. I just loved vacationing here so much, that I wanted to use it in a story lol.
**Tag List** (since I never wrote for Nick, I didn't know who else to tag)
@gummydummy19 @blackwood4stucky
Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁
My BINGO Card:
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#nick fowler#the 355#nick fowler x reader#nick fowler x you#nick fowler fanfiction#nick fowler smut#sebastianstan#seb stan#sebby stan#sebby baby#chubby dumpling#nick fowler x female reader#nick fowler x f!reader#nick fowler x fem!reader#nick fowler x y/n#nick fowler imagine#nick fowler fanfic#nick fowler fan fiction#nick fowler fan fic#nick fowler fic#nick fowler au#soft!nick fowler#ellethespaceunicorn fanfic
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Summer days pass me by - T. Jost
“I feel like I’m stuck, doing the same thing over and over with the same nothing at the end. I need to do something new. Wanna help me make this the best summer ever?”
“You do know that sounds like the start of a coming of age film, right?”
Summary: Mollie Thomas has been friends with Tyson Jost since they were children – but this summer by the lake could change everything.
Warnings: childhood friends to lovers, some bad language, a little angst
Word Count: 9.5k
A/N: I love Tyson Jost so much – this is a super indulgent fic that I started back in August 2020, and it’s been one hell of a journey writing it, including a complete rewrite about 2/3 through. This OC was actually the first one I ever attempted on hockeyblr, although I’ve since written a fair few in stories I've since posted over the years, and she holds a special place in my heart.
This Tyson blurb I wrote in July 2022 is what inspired me to rewrite this story (and thank you @bqstqnbruin for all the encouragement to finish it!).
~
If there was one thing about summer that Mollie Thomas loved the most, it was being by the lake. As soon as the weather was good enough, she would head up there with friends to relax, have barbecues and mess around on the water. Being by the lake simply was the epitome of summer, sunshine and friendship – she’d grown up doing it, her parents trusting her to go alone since the age of 15, and now 10 years later (despite some friends moving away), she still loved nothing more than watching the days roll on by from the lakeshore.
Utter bliss.
Mollie had been teaching history at the local Kelowna high school ever since graduating from the local college three years ago, and when the weather started getting consistently sunny, she even went up to the lake some evenings after work, depending on who was around. But now that the end of the school year was approaching, she would no longer be restricted to the occasional evening after work, and she honestly couldn’t wait.
Why? Because soon one of her best friends would be coming back to Kelowna for the summer. Tyson Jost.
Mollie had known Tyson ever since he’d moved to Kelowna to live with his grandparents when he was 13, his family's house being down the road from Mollie’s family. Her older brother John had been on the same hockey team as Tyson, so he’d always been around – but with John being a couple of years older than them, Tyson and Mollie had become fast friends.
Sure, things had become harder when Tyson had gotten more serious with ice hockey. When Mollie’s brother John had quit playing, choosing to focus on school instead, Mollie had been worried that they wouldn’t want to hang out any more – but that wasn’t the case. Hockey or no hockey, Tyson had always been there for her, and she knew she could count on him for anything.
He was the guy that encouraged her to get out of her comfort zone. He was the guy that turned to her for help asking out his first girlfriend Sarah Cooper. He was the guy that punched her first boyfriend for kissing Jenny Prince behind her back. He was the guy that made her laugh down the phone when college had been stressful. He was the only guy that she would wear another team’s colours for whenever he played against the Canucks. He was the guy that called her with a broken heart when the Avs had traded him. He was the guy that she looked forward to seeing most every summer, and she couldn’t wait to see him this year.
She missed him – who could blame her?
It was a Sunday afternoon, just about to head into the last week of the school year, and Mollie was soaking up the sun by the lake with some of her best friends; Bryony, Louis, Michael, Chase and Allison. There had been other people hanging out with them in the morning, including Mollie’s brother John and his wife Michelle, but the remaining six were the tightest group. So tight, that they’d all chipped in to rent a cottage together this summer, Allison’s uncle owning a couple in the area and offering them first dibs. Naturally, they’d all sprung at the chance of having a summer home base, even if not all of them were there all the time, so Mollie had that to look forward to starting next weekend, the moment that the school year ended. Bryony, Louis and Michael were also teachers, although across various different schools to Mollie, so at least she wouldn’t be the only one up at the cottage during the weekdays.
“Anyone for a refill?”
Mollie turned her head to the camping chair next to her, watching Bryony stand up and wiggle her empty can in the air. Mollie nodded, smiling at her friend, and a few others nodded too. As soon as Bryony walked away, Allison plunked down in the vacated seat, turning to Mollie with a grin.
Allison was probably Mollie’s closest girlfriend in Kelowna – also living on the same street as Mollie’s family – and while the two of them couldn’t have looked more different (Allison a curvaceous insta-airbushed blonde compared to Mollie’s chestnut hair and tomboy runner’s body), Allison had encouraged Mollie to be as confident and friendly as her, and Mollie was forever grateful. Sure, Allison was an incorrigible flirt and flitted between jobs, and sure Mollie had her moments where her anxiety got the better of her – but Allison was as close a friend to her as Tyson was, and Mollie loved that.
Even when Allison’s grin spelled troublemaker, like it did right now as Allison got comfy in Bryony’s vacated chair.
“So you know how my Uncle’s got me helping out with administration for his holiday home rentals this summer, in exchange for us getting our cottage for a lower price?” Allison prompted.
Mollie raised an eyebrow at the glee in her friend’s voice. Whatever it was, clearly she was excited about it – and considering that the cottage had been a good deal, clearly this was good gossip.
“Yeah, I remember…why?” Mollie mused.
“Well, a couple of cottages on this side of the lake have been rented…one of them by someone you know very well…”
Mollie knew her friend meant well, but this cryptic stuff was not helping.
“Out with it, Ally,” Mollie said bluntly.
“Tyson rented the cottage closest to ours for two months,” Allison grinned.
What?
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
“He’s going to be here all summer?” Mollie asked, excited.
“Yep! As far as I’ve heard, Tyson’s got some buddies coming up to stay with him at various points, and probably his sister too. I don’t know when or for how long, but there’s definitely enough rooms for all of them in that cabin to be there together so it’s going to be so much fun!” Allison told her, “Now that I think about it, I probably wasn’t meant to tell you. Tyson was probably keeping it as a surprise. Oops.”
Mollie just giggled, too happy to care that Tyson hadn’t said anything to her about his plans. It had been too long since she’d seen her childhood friend – summers just weren’t enough time with him – and knowing that he was going to be around for two solid months just made her heart soar. This was everything.
“Oh man, this is going to be the best summer,” Mollie sighed happily.
“Maybe this summer you and Tyson will finally admit how much you love each other.”
Mollie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. For some reason, Allison (and the rest of their other friends) had it in their heads that her friendship with Tyson was more than platonic. Sometimes it got really annoying because honestly nothing had ever happened between them (not even a hint of an almost) but she tried not to let it bug her. She knew where she stood with Tyson – yeah, he was incredibly handsome, with a good heart and a wonderful smile, but she wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything. Ever.
“We’re just friends, Ally-cat,” Mollie sing-songed, rolling her eyes.
“We’ll see,” Allison sing-songed back.
Honestly. Troublemaker.
Mollie ignored her friend’s laughter as she pulled out her phone, opening up her text thread with Tyson.
From: Mollie
A little birdy tells me you’ve rented a cabin by the lake for the summer…
Mollie barely had to wait a couple of minutes before her phone buzzed with a reply.
From: Tyson
I swear Ally can’t keep her mouth shut.
I was trying to surprise you!
Mollie giggled to herself, ignoring Allison’s wriggling eyebrows.
From: Mollie
Trust me, I’m surprised.
School finishes next week – I can’t wait to see you!
It really had been too long.
“Tell your future husband we miss him!” Allison crowed.
“Oh you’re texting Tyson? Say hi from me!” Chase grinned from across the chair circle.
Mollie stuck her tongue out at him as Allison cackled next to her. Her friends were such dicks sometimes.
From: Mollie
The gang say hi and that they all miss you
“Done, happy?” Mollie said dryly.
“Extremely,” Allison grinned, looking like the cat that ate the canary.
“I don’t know why I like you at all,” Mollie said bluntly, although her smile gave away her lie.
Allison just wriggled her eyebrows again, earning laughter from the whole group and another eye roll from Mollie.
From: Tyson
Hi back from me!
I miss them too
I miss you the most
Mollie’s eyes widened slightly, a light flush warming her cheeks. What? Why was she reacting like this? Tyson said that all the time. Kind of. No, stop it. Mollie swallowed heavily, keeping her eyes down to avoid a reaction from their friends.
From: Mollie
I miss you too
With that, Mollie shoved her phone back into her pocket, just in time for Bryony to arrive with a fresh round of beers, which Mollie was more than grateful for. What was that all about?
~
“I am so ready for a drink.”
“Make it two,” Mollie mused, grinning at Allison’s words.
“Make it three,” Chase laughed, “I can’t wait to cool off in the lake, it’s too damn hot today.”
That was an understatement. The temperature was sweltering and even just thinking about jumping into the cold water was almost too much to bear. Mollie been waiting all week for this Friday evening – while the four of them who were teachers had been up at the lake during the week every day since their schools finished for the summer a week ago, Allison and Chase had weekday 9-5s, so Mollie had volunteered to drive back into town to bring them out for the weekend, finally bringing their big friendship group together in their rented cabin for the summer. Of course Mollie had visited her family (with her brother John and his wife Michelle reminding her they wouldn’t be up at the lake until next week) to fill the time while she waited for Allison and Chase to be ready, as well as stocking up on supplies, but now Mollie was more than ready to kick back and relax.
After she’d been in the water, of course.
Thankfully Mollie had put a bikini on underneath her clothes, just a simple little red thing, before picking up her friends today, so as soon as she’d parked outside their cabin, brought the cooler of drinks and snacks into the kitchen, and dumped her duffel bag by the stairs, she stripped off her clothes as she walked towards the tempting water. Bryony wolf-whistled as Mollie walked past the three who were already there, and Mollie just flipped them all off with a grin, kicking off her shoes quickly before taking off in a run down the dock and diving into the water.
Bliss.
Allison and Chase, both having stripped down to their swimsuits too, wasted no time in joining Mollie in the water, and all Mollie could do was smile as she resurfaced. This was summer. All of them together in glorious weather at the most beautiful place in Kelowna. What more could she ever want?
“LOOK WHAT THE CAT DRAGGED IN!”
Mollie turned her head at Michael’s hollering, grinning at the sight of the familiar figure walked over from the neighbouring cabin. Tyson. Mollie eagerly hauled herself back up onto the dock, slipping back into her shoes and picking up a towel from the stack at the beginning of the dock to dry herself off with as she walked back to the cabins, waving hello as she got closer.
“There you are.”
Mollie just grinned and threw her arms around Tyson’s neck, him just laughing as he picked her up, swinging her round in a circle, not seeming to care that she was getting him wet.
“You’d think you were happy to see me or something,” Tyson teased, setting her back on her feet.
“Oh hush, you know I am,” Mollie sighed happily, running the towel over her wet hair, “Are you happy to be back here?”
“You know it,” he nodded, smiling sweetly at her, “even more so knowing that I’m nowhere near Buffalo and that you’re here.”
Well Mollie would never say no to a bit of Tyson charm.
“Flattery gets you everywhere, Mr Jost,” she mused, trying to calm her racing heart.
It wasn’t fair that nothing about him had changed at all and yet somehow his pretty curls and pretty face were even more handsome since she’d last seen him. So unfair.
“HEY LOVEBIRDS!”
A shout from Bryony broke Mollie out of her thoughts, and she saw Tyson blush fiercely as they both looked at the group by the chairs to see them all smirking at the two of them. And to think it was usually Allison who was the troublemaker. Mollie just flipped them all double birds, earning laughter.
“We’d better go before people start talking eh?” she laughed, trying to hide her blush.
“Let them talk,” Tyson grinned, but starting walking over to the ring of chairs anyway.
It wasn’t fair that her stomach filled with butterflies at the simple sight of his smile.
As Louis handed Mollie a cold white claw, Tyson already having one in hand, she took the empty seat at Tyson’s side. By the time that Allison and Chase hauled themselves out the water to join the group, they were all well on their way to catching up.
They talked about Bryony and Louis still being together, their relationship going on 5 years strong. They talked about Allison losing another job, her uncle having taken pity on her and letting her do his administration for the summer cabins he owned. They talked about the school year, how parents and kids were a stressful nightmare most days now. They talked about Tyson’s season, sort of, Tyson just saying that he was happy to be back up from the AHL. They talked about Tyson’s sister Kacey, how she was kicking ass and taking names. They talked about Chase’s hard-earned promotion at work, finally getting the recognition he deserved. They talked about all the plans they had for the next two months here at the lake and the more they talked and drank and laughed, Mollie just sank back in her chair, taking everything in, soaking everything up.
This really was heaven.
Tyson noticed her relax back in her chair and just smiled at her, earning a genuine smile back. Yeah this was going to be a summer to remember, she could feel it.
~
Another couple of days passed at the lake cabin, Chase and Allison heading back into town while Tyson stayed at his place, and Mollie couldn’t be happier. Happy enough to make breakfast pancakes and bacon for Bryony, Louis and Michael after she showered following her early run around the lake, leaving it all in the oven for them with a note while she cleared up. Breakfast she could handle – it was the little things. She knew her friends would appreciate it anyway.
As she was taking out the trash though, she spotted Tyson doing exactly the same from his cabin, and waved enthusiastically at him, grinning as he laughed. He was clearly still adjusting to waking up early, same as she was – he still looked a little bleary eyed as they walked towards the end of their driveways.
“Good morning Tys!” she said cheerfully.
“Morning!” he mused.
She jogged over to him, Tyson catching her in a hug as she reached his side, making her laugh and squeeze him back tightly. Mornings like this were exactly what she had missed while he was away. As she pulled away though, her phone buzzed with a series of texts, and she pulled out her phone only to frown at the sender. Her ex. Ew. He really wasn’t getting the hint.
“Who’s making your face do that?”
Mollie cursed under her breath and tucked her phone away with.
“It’s no-one,” she said simply, willing him to let it go.
“No-one doesn’t make you grimace like that,” Tyson pointed out, “And it doesn’t make you hide it from me. So who is it?”
She really couldn’t pretend around him, could she? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about her terrible ex boyfriends before.
“It’s my ex. Justin. It’s been six months since I caught him texting other girls with all the things he wanted to do to them, and while I don’t know if he physically cheated, I still kicked him to the curb the moment I found out. Every now and again he blows up my phone, even though I never answer him,” Mollie explained, “His mom even knows and yells at him for bugging me. He’ll get bored soon enough.”
Yeah, this latest ex wasn’t exactly one of her finest choices.
The deep frown that shifted onto Tyson’ face was an interesting reaction though.
“If he doesn’t leave you alone, tell me. I still know enough people in this town, and I can hunt him down and punch him if he doesn’t back off.”
A rush of heat went through her veins at his words, a flush spreading across her cheeks.
There was a flashback in her mind to when they were 15, when Tyson found out that her first boyfriend Todd kissed Jenny Prince behind her back, and sucker-punched him at school in her honour. It was a beautiful memory. And to know that he’d still defend her like that?
“You always were my knight in shining armour,” Mollie teased.
But Tyson just shrugged. “You know I’ve got your back no matter what. That’s what best friends are for.”
Such a sweetheart.
Something about his tone though, how seriously he’d taken her words, made Mollie keep her eye on Tyson throughout the day, and by the time that late afternoon rolled around when their barbecue was in full swing, she finally cornered him again. There was just something in his eyes that looked…tense. It wasn’t the Tyson she knew and it worried her that even in the most relaxing place in Kelowna, he still looked so stressed.
“Hey, Tys, fresh beer?”
Tyson smiled his thanks, taking it with a nod. There was no one else standing too closely so she didn’t feel bad for confronting him like this, not at all.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she said softly.
Tyson’s eyes widened a little, before he huffed out a laugh.
“There’s no point hiding anything with you, is there?”
Just like her with him. But Mollie winced. “If there’s something you don’t actually want to talk about, then I’m not going to push. That’s the last thing I want.”
Tyson just nodded, taking a sip of his beer, as if to steel himself. Clearly this was more than passing worry. What was going on?
“Every summer I’ve ever had has been the same. Arrive back to Kelowna, get sympathy and pitying smiles for how shitty the season was, hanging about by the lake, train, start hockey again. I’m tired of it,” Tyson groaned.
“Tired of it?” she asked, confused, trying to understand what he meant.
Surely he didn’t mean he was tired of hockey? She knew how much the sport meant to him.
“I’m tired, Mollie. I feel like I’m stuck, doing the same thing over and over with the same nothing at the end. I need to do something new or I feel like I’m going to go crazy,” Tyson sighed.
Okay, okay that she could manage.
“It must be so frustrating, pouring your whole heart into the sport you love, and not getting the reward you deserve. And the fact that you still feel like this in the off season? That’s not good, Tys,” Mollie murmured, “What can I do to help?”
He sent her a sad smile.
“I’m not sure, really. If I don’t know what I can do, I don’t know what anyone else can do,” he said softly, “But being here with you right now, talking with you like this, I appreciate it. I don’t exactly trust many people with my full thoughts like this.”
That both saddened her and made her heart soar. The fact that he didn’t really have anyone else he could really talk to was devastating…but the fact that he trusted her enough? That was everything.
“Then we can talk and vent and rant and scream as much as you need. And we’ll build your happiness back up, just like you deserve. I’m here for you, Tyson,” she said firmly.
“Yeah?”
That smile would be the end of her, she just knew it.
“Yeah, I mean it,” she nodded, helpless to do anything but smile back.
“Wanna help me make this the best summer ever?” he grinned.
“You do know that sounds like the start of a coming of age film, right?” Mollie teased.
Tyson nudged her with his shoulder, earning a nudge back.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, hope filling his voice.
“Obviously,” she grinned.
How could she say no to him?
But as she looked into his eyes, there was something in his gaze that made her breath hitch in her chest, her grin sliding from her face. Tyson seemed to be caught in the moment too as his own face drifted into neutral, his eyes locked on hers in return. She didn’t realise how close they had shifted until her fingers brushed against his arm, Tyson’s eyes darting down to where they were touching before he looked back up at her. Her heart was pounding, ears full of a rushing sound, her thoughts filled with nothing but the dazed look on Tyson’s face.
It was when his gaze flicked down to her lips that she jolted out of her reverie, just in time for a couple of shrieks and splashes came from the end of the dock.
Fuck. Fuck.
What was that? What the hell was that?
“Mollie…” Tyson murmured, fingers brushing against hers finally.
“I’m going to get some more food,” she said quickly, stepping backwards.
It took all her strength to turn away from the confused hurt expression on Tyson’s face, and walk over to join Bryony and Louis at the barbecue, plastering a smile on her face as her head whirled, desperately trying not to panic. Tyson had almost kissed her. She had almost kissed Tyson. Tyson wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss Tyson. Did she want to kiss Tyson?
Of course she wanted to.
But since when did she give into fleeting desires around him? And since when did he ever look at her like that? No, she couldn’t deal with this. She wouldn’t, not tonight. Maybe not ever. What the hell, Tyson?
~
Tyson and Mollie didn’t talk about the moment they shared at all. The first two weeks of their two month summer, almost a full week since that fateful night, passed quickly and the longer they went not mentioning it, Mollie found herself burying the topic completely. From Wednesday morning to Friday midday, Mollie, Tyson, Bryony, Louis and Chase all quickly fell into a routine that she knew would carry on for the rest of the summer. Mollie did her usual run along the lake front each morning, with Bryony and Tyson joining her for a yoga session today, the Friday morning. She spent each day cycling through swimming, sunbathing, and reading, all of the group taking it in turns to cook dinner while sorting out their own lunches. She kayaked with Chase and Tyson for a couple of hours before lunch on Thursday, the three of them paddling in a comfortable silence most the way, taking pictures to make their friends jealous of the beautiful views.
And now Bryony and Louis were back from their grocery run for the barbecue tonight, to celebrate Mollie’s brother John and his wife Michelle coming up for the weekend, as well as Tyson’s friends Mat and Dante arriving ahead of their own week’s stay. They’d all met Mat and Dante before, the two of them joining Tyson for a few summer’s now (and Dante joining on his own the year before that started) so Mollie was well prepared for the chaos those two always seemed to bring. At least in comparison to the peace and calm that Tyson’s friend JT brought when he visited (which he would be doing for two weeks after Dante and Mat left).
It was going to be an interesting stretch of time, that was for sure.
After Tyson had gotten his friends settled in, they immediately joined Mollie’s group to chill on the clearing by the dock, relaxing for a few hours before they needed to start prepping for the barbecue tonight. Chase and Allison wouldn’t be joining them until later, and neither would John and Michelle, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have fun before then.
“We’ve got snacks and fresh fruit and cold beers, help yourselves,” Michael grinned, waving towards the coolers on the back decking of their cabin.
Mat, Dante, and Tyson saluted, making them all laugh, Tyson carrying over their own crate of beers to add to the coolers too. Mollie just stayed silent, offering Tyson a small smile, to which he sent a hesitant one back. Great. He was still going to be awkward around his friends too. With a quiet sigh, quiet enough that no-one else heard it, she laid back down on her deckchair, eager to let the sun wash away the underlying tension she was desperate to ignore.
Maybe with his friends here, Tyson would get over the awkwardness and they could return to normal. At least, she hoped they could. She didn’t know what she would do if they didn’t.
~
“So, Mollie looks good, huh?”
“Don’t even think about it Barzy,” Tyson scowled.
Dante and Mat looked at each other only briefly before bursting into laughter.
“We know she’s yours, Josty. Chill,” Dante snickered.
“She’s not mine,” Tyson shot back, narrowing his eyes.
His friends just laughed harder.
“Yeah okay, and you totally weren’t distracted when she was sunbathing in that tiny pink bikini this afternoon, right,” Mat teased.
“I swear, I will throw you in the lake.”
~
The weekend was…odd, to say the least. Mollie didn’t spend nearly as much time with Tyson as she normally did, mostly because he looked like he didn’t know what to say to her and she didn’t have a clue what to say to him. She got away with it though, having her brother and sister-in-law up at the cabin, and Tyson having his friends to distract him. She had to get over this weirdness. She needed to.
On the Sunday evening, when her brother John and Michelle drove back into town, she followed them back, staying at her apartment for a night ahead of a family dinner their mom had insisted on for the Monday night. It wasn’t a hardship to take a little break from the cabin, using the time to pamper herself with a long bath and a face mask, giving herself the time to refresh. And Monday she spent giving her apartment a giant deep clean, driving all thoughts from her mind until she only had enough time to shower and change before heading over to her parents house.
“Mollie! Baby! Are you eating enough?”
Mollie just rolled her eyes fondly at her mom’s greeting.
“Nice to see you too mom. I brought wine,” she mused, stepping into her childhood home.
“Ooh, I do love a good cabernet, thank you darling. John and Michelle are already here – they’re with your dad in the den,” her mom said cheerfully, “I’m just finishing up in here!”
“I’ll help you, mom. It’s been a while.”
Mollie’s mom just beamed at her, kissing her cheek before wandering back into the kitchen. She followed with a smile on her face, heart bursting with the love that only a mom could cause, her mom especially. Mollie put on the apron that her mom passed her, the two of them chopping vegetables for the salad in a comfortable silence, Mollie just enjoying her mom dancing along to the radio while they worked. True to her word, they didn’t take long to finish preparing everything, and in no time at all, her mom was calling everyone to the table for dinner.
Incredible chicken pot pie, with creamy mash, a variety of greens, and homemade gravy, with a fruit cobbler for dessert. This was exactly what she needed.
What she didn’t need was her brother opening his mouth the moment that they finished eating.
“So mom, has Mollie told you about Tyson yet?”
What the hell?
“No? Is everything okay?” her mom asked, voice full of concern as she turned to look at Mollie.
She kicked her brother under the table but he just smiled sweetly at her. Her older brother was such a child.
“He’s fine mom. A little stressed after the season, but fine,” Mollie said, as calmly as she could.
“I was talking about all the flirting actually,” John said innocently.
“Shut up, John! There hasn’t been any flirting!” she hissed.
He was a dead man. Michelle could move on happily.
“Flirting?” her dad frowned.
“Flirting?!” her mom cried happily.
For fuck’s sake. She needed to nip this in the bud before her mom pulled out her scrapbooks.
“There is no flirting. John is delusional, maybe a touch of heat stroke. You really check that out for him, Michelle,” Mollie said firmly, her sister-in-law just sending her a pitying smile, “Tyson and I don’t flirt with each other.”
“It’s been different this year and you know it,” John shot back.
Michelle elbowed him, but other than a grunt he didn’t react at all, his smirk staying put.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s one of my best friends and you know it,” Mollie scowled.
“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” John sing-songed.
“Oh you assho-”
“That’s enough,” their mom interrupted, gaze firm. Mollie snapped her mouth shut, John doing the same. “Johnathan Neil Thomas, cut it out. If Mollie says they’re still just friends, then that’s that.”
Mollie smiled triumphantly, earning an eye roll from her brother.
“And Mollie Eliza Thomas, if there ever is a change between you and Tyson then you know you can be open with us.”
Ugh.
“Mom!” Mollie hissed.
John just threw his head back and cackled, not even flinching at the elbow from his wife this time. How was he 27 years old?
“Alright, alright, I’m stopping,” their mom grinned, “and so is John.”
Seriously. It was bad enough that her head was messed up from whatever the hell had happened at the lake the other day, whatever the hell had been happening since Tyson came back this summer, but she didn’t need her family adding to it too.
“Cheer up buttercup. Whatever happens, happens,” her dad shrugged, smiling.
Mollie didn’t know if that made things better or worse. Sure, John could be doing the opposite, getting defensive and shutting down a ‘potential’ relationship between her and Tyson (not that there was anything) but this wasn’t helping.
“I’m disowning you all,” Mollie grumbled, “not you Michelle. As always, you’re an angel.”
Her brother’s wife just beamed. “If John doesn’t want to sleep on the sofa tonight, he’ll stop.”
What an angel she was indeed.
Her dad tactfully changed the topic to his upcoming fly fishing trip, finally giving Mollie some peace, but she was lost in her head from there on out, Michelle just filling up her wine glass in solidarity. By the time John and Michelle went home, Mollie had drunk a couple of glasses too many to safely drive home, so she crashed in her childhood bedroom, her mom thrilled that she got to fuss over her for another day.
Her dad promised to make her a hearty breakfast.
While she got ready for bed, doing her usual skincare routine after she changed, Mollie finally let herself embrace her thoughts. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, John’s teasing had gotten under her skin.
It’s been different this year and you know it.
Because it had been different this year. This summer had been full of all of this tension that hadn’t been there before that she didn’t know what to do with. This was her and Tyson. If she couldn’t figure out what it all meant to her, then where did that leave them?
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
John was right. He’d been right all along. It was different this year. Everything with Tyson had felt different this year, the flirty teasing, the innocent touches, the way her heart had skipped at his smile. But why? What had changed?
And what could she do about it?
Tyson had never said anything to her about being more than friends in all of their years of knowing each other, not even as a joke in passing. There’d never been a moment like that almost moment before the barbecue the other day. There’d never been anything that had flared Mollie’s feelings into a tailspin like this, but now? Now she didn’t know what to think.
Breathe. Take a moment.
Mollie inhaled shakily, running her trembling hands through her chestnut hair. It was like a dam had burst, her emotions rushing over like a tidal wave, her heart racing and her breathing getting ragged. This had changed everything. How could she not think about Tyson differently now that the floodgates had opened? How could she ignore that he was her everything now that she’d admitted it to herself? What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Mollie? Is everything alright?”
Mollie snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of her mom’s voice through the door, clearly having seen her light was still on. Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it.
“Yeah mom, just doing some yoga!” Mollie called back, hoping that the lie wasn’t too obvious, that her voice wasn’t too shaky.
“Alright sweetheart, get some rest! I’ll see you in the morning,”
Mollie just squeezed her eyes shut tightly, balling her fists at her sides as she curled up under her duvet. This wasn’t fair. All these years she’d maintained an amazing friendship with Tyson, a constant steadiness that she cherished, but now…could it really stay the same? Could she stay the same, knowing her feelings were actually real, when he didn’t feel the same? Could she pretend to be normal?
Could they even stay friends?
~
At the lake, unbeknown to Mollie, Tyson was going through his own emotional turmoil, sitting with Dante and Mat in the living area of his cabin.
“What’s going on with you and Mollie?”
“It feels different this year,” was all Tyson could offer to Dante’s question.
“Different…how?” Dante frowned.
Tyson sighed, running a hand over his face, missing the look that his friends exchanged.
“Tys, seriously. You and Mollie have always been so close, and yeah we tease you about it…but has something happened?” Mat said softly.
“I don’t know. There have been some moments. Like, emotionally-charged moments. That first weekend when we first saw each other again, she was wearing this tiny red bikini and she just looked so carefree and beautiful and so goddamn hot that it completely blew past all my defences. I couldn’t help but flirting and she flirted back. Talking to her felt like my heart was clenching and there was something in her eyes that said it wasn’t just me. And the other day at the barbecue, I just…I don’t know. We almost kissed and then she basically ran away,” Tyson said miserably.
Mat laughed softly, making Tyson whine in protest.
“This isn’t funny!”
“Oh it’s kinda funny. Why is it that everyone can see the connection between you two other than you?” Mat mused.
“We’re just friends. That’s all she wants, clearly,” Tyson sighed.
“That’s all she wants? Are you saying that you want more?” Dante asked, grinning.
Tyson just whined again at his friend’s excitement, dropping his head to rest in his hands. He couldn’t deny it, not any more. Not now that things felt so different, so…new. How could he?
“So you’re admitting that you like her. Finally. Are you sure that friendship is all Mollie wants? Have you even said anything?” Mat asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Why would I say anything?!” Tyson yelped, lifting his head up again.
Was Mat crazy?
Both Mat and Dante rolled their eyes. “You literally said that it wasn’t just you that had that emotionally charged moment,” Mat pointed out.
“I know but…”
“If there’s another moment like that, why don’t you just take a chance?” Dante interrupted, before Tyson could spiral into a panic, “if things are stressing you out this much, then maybe she’s feeling the same.”
Tyson bit his bottom lip, contemplating his friend’s words. Could he really do that?
Mat sighed, seeing Tyson’s hesitation. “Look, bud, you never know until you try. The friendship that you and Mollie have is so solid – even if things don’t happen between you two, nothing will change that.”
“I guess you’re right. She wouldn’t be weird about it, even if it is just me with feelings,” Tyson murmured.
Mat frowned, opening his mouth to argue, but Dante just elbowed him in the ribs, making him grunt.
“I don’t think it is just you, but yeah, you really should act on this, before you get too in your head about things. I know it’s scary and I know that you’ve got to take a risk, but I honestly think it’s going to pay off. It’s Mollie, Tys. How can things not?” Dante said warmly.
Mat nodded enthusiastically, making Tyson laugh softly.
“You really think I could take a chance?”
“Absolutely. You’re Tyson fucking Jost – you’ve got this!” Dante grinned.
Tyson smiled weakly, trying to put on a brave face. He wasn’t convinced, not with how much was on the line. Mollie was too important for him to lose. But maybe, just maybe, he could gain even more?
~
The week went on with Mollie no closer to an answer to what her next steps should be. At least Tyson was a little more relaxed around her, offering her genuine smiles rather than the awkward ones he’d been giving her since their almost moment. On Mat and Dante’s penultimate day, Allison arranged for a four jet skis to be sent up to the lake as a surprise, and they all took turns in racing each other on them, no-one getting too drunk to make sure they stayed safe.
After a few races on the jet ski, Mollie took a break, letting Louis take over to race Bryony, Mat and Dante, while Michael cheered them on and took photos. She could see her phone lighting up with jealous messages from Allison and Chase – FOMO was a bitch – so she could already predict that Allison would be extending their rental until after the full weekend had passed so she could have a go herself.
Mollie headed back out of the cabin with a book, a bottle of water, and some sunscreen, ready to relax for a little while now that she’d pulled some shorts back on, only to see Tyson already sitting where she had been planning to sit. Maybe it was fate. Maybe this was the time they needed, apart from the others. Maybe this was a sign.
Then again, Tyson had been fairly quiet today so far, letting Mat and Dante take the reins in conversation.
“Hey Tys. Mind if I join you?”
He jolted, looking up at her like she’d surprised him, making her frown slightly.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.”
Okay, not quite the reaction she’d been expecting. Even for him, this was weird. Still, she sat down in the chair next to him, reapplying her sunscreen before opening up her book. But the way that Tyson was sitting silently next to her, just staring out at the lake, was unsettling.
“Is everything okay?” she murmured, putting her bookmark in her book.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
His answer was so short, almost distant, unlike any way he’d ever spoken to her, and it hurt a little to hear that tone in his voice. Maybe she was just missing something, but him brushing her off like that on top of all of her emotional turmoil lately was just enough to make tears spring to her eyes.
It was all she could do to swallow heavily to keep her composure, and she stood up, dropping her book on her chair.
“Where are you going?” Tyson frowned.
“I don’t know. Just need to clear my head, I guess,” Mollie shrugged, attempting to keep her voice light.
“Can I come with you?” Tyson blurted.
That would be the opposite of helpful right now. But when he looked at her so hopefully, how could she say no? Maybe he’d actually open up, and his attitude was all a big misunderstanding? She could only hope. She couldn’t take him pulling away from her, if that’s what this was.
No, she had to have hope.
With a quick glance over her shoulder to check that their friends were all occupied, Mollie started to walk in the opposite direction down the lake front, knowing that Tyson would be following her. She wandered, a little aimlessly, trying to clear her head as she’d said to him, but nothing helped knowing that it was his footsteps following her.
Eventually she slowed to a stop at a little cove, ducking into it to get out of the harsh light of the sun, and Tyson stopped next to her, offering her a small smile. She had to return it – this was the place they’d dubbed ‘their spot’ after all. Back in Tyson’s first summer, she’d found him here after a difficult training session, full of frustration and homesickness, and it had been one of the things that bonded them so quickly. She’d never told anyone about this place, that it was hers and Tyson’s. Mollie hadn’t intended to come here, but clearly her subconscious had other plans.
Tyson took a step towards her, slipping slightly on a rock, and Mollie’s hands darted out to stead him, Tyson clinging to her forearms as he regained his balance. It was only when she laughed and looked back up at him that she realised they were standing so close that she could count his eyelashes, and she froze.
No, no she couldn’t do this. She needed less drama, less intensity, less…
“Mollie,” Tyson murmured, voice breathy.
“Tys, I…I can’t,” she choked.
Her head was swirling as she jerked out of his grip, trying not to slip herself as she stepped past him, but Tyson grabbed her hand to stop her leaving.
“Mollie, please don’t go! Just listen to me!” Tyson begged.
The desperation in his voice made her stop in her tracks. She closed her eyes, keeping her back to him as she tried to control her racing heartbeat, jumping slightly as his hand move to touch her shoulder. Against her better judgement, with a gentle squeeze of his hand, she turned back around to face him, biting her lip at the devastation in his face.
“Tys,” she whispered, a little helplessly.
He’d never looked at her like that before, like she had the power to destroy him completely. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.
“Mollie, sweetheart…”
Sweetheart. He trailed off at her whimper, running a shaky hand through his unruly curls before he looked into her eyes with such determination that butterflies erupted in her stomach.
“You’ve got to know how much I like you, Mollie. Seriously. You’re one of the only people I keep in touch with from home, one of the only true friends I can count on, and you know how much our friendship means to me. But you’ve got to know how our friendship has evolved. It’s…more now, right? You feel it too?”
Mollie’s breath caught in her throat. He…what?
How much I like you.
How much our friendship means to me.
Our friendship has evolved.
You feel it too?
“Please. Say something,” Tyson begged.
How could she deny him that? After everything she started admitting to herself? She closed her eyes, swallowing heavily, only opening them when her heart cracked open a little. If he could be honest, as much of a dream as it felt, then so could she.
“I do feel it, Tys. I just…I didn’t let myself hope that you felt the same,” she whispered.
There it was. She’d finally said the words out loud. Tyson let out a wounded noise, low and sad, but Mollie didn’t say anything. What else could she say without losing all composure?
“I’ve liked you for so long, Molls. I just never let myself act on it because I didn’t think you felt the same. But now…”
Tyson trailed off again into nothing, letting out a whoosh of breath. The hope and wonder in his voice sent a thrill through Mollie’s body, her heart beating a little bit faster. Tyson liked her. He really liked her! And she’d told him how she felt about him too? She’d never thought this moment would actually happen. Definitely not since her emotional realisation a few evenings ago. But now that it was? It felt mindblowing. Was this really happening?
But there was still that niggle of doubt she couldn’t deny. So Mollie gathered her thoughts while Tyson stayed silent, hoping they wouldn’t bite her in the ass.
“I can’t do this if it’s just for the summer,” Mollie blurted, “I can’t be only a fling for you, Tyson. I wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Not with you.”
Tyson quickly shook his head, reaching out to clasp both of her hands in his, making her gasp softly at the warmth in his grip.
“You could never be a fling. This is the real deal between us, Mollie. I know it is. You know it is,” Tyson said firmly.
Mollie just nodded, choking out a laugh, unable to stop the tears welling up in her eyes as she smiled at him, earning a hopeful smile back. He was right. Deep down, no matter how her insecurities whispered, she knew that their friendship meant a solid foundation. It wasn’t a temporary wavering summer-fun. It was…everything.
“So what are you saying?” Mollie murmured, trying to blink away the tears.
Was this really happening?
“Will you be my girl?” Tyson asked, his voice full of hope.
Mollie choked a laugh, her voice thick with the tears that wouldn’t leave. “Yeah, Tys. I’ll be your girl,”
Tyson let out a whoop, throwing his head back, making Mollie laugh again. What a ridiculous guy. She liked him so much. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand rising to cup her cheek, making her inhale sharply as his eyes went more serious.
“Can I kiss you now? Finally?”
Mollie tilted her head up to press her lips to his in answer.
~
Being with Tyson was easy, easier than Mollie could’ve ever imagined. Somehow that transition from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend was seamless, with not even a little awkwardness like she’d feared there would’ve been. She attributed that to Tyson mainly though – he was such a driving force of happiness, and now that she’d allowed herself to feel all those thoughts she’d subconsciously pushed down before, it was like everything had clicked into place. It was almost like it was fate.
Fate that she was seizing with both hands and never letting go.
The moment that they’d returned to the cabins from the cove, Dante had taken one look at them and demanded Mat to ‘pay up’. Bryony had immediately pulled out her phone, typing away furiously, until she groaned and admitted that Allison had won their pool. Tyson had just laughed when he realised that everyone had been betting on the two of them, Mollie hiding her face in his chest with a groan. Somehow she wasn’t surprised – it was their friends after all – but that didn’t make her feel any better in the moment.
Nor did John’s smug texts – Michelle’s happy ones soothed that a little. She wasn’t surprised either when Tyson came to her after the weekend and admitted that John had given him a shovel talk in private, one that he refused to share the details of (so she knew it had to be violent), but when she’d texted John to berate him, all her brother said was that he approved and that Tyson was a good guy.
That much she knew already, thank you very much.
The rest of their summer raced by. After Mat and Dante left, JT stayed for two weeks, just as thrilled for them as Tyson’s other friends had been (especially since he won the bet he had with Alex Kerfoot about them). After JT left, Kacey and Tyson’s mom came up to stay for a week, and their genuine heartfelt welcome to the family talks left Mollie more emotional than ever, Tyson just smiling with watery eyes (that he later denied).
And obviously her parents were thrilled, Tyson being dragged down to a couple of family dinner over the remaining six weeks of summer, in between his intense workouts, getting him ready for the upcoming season.
But those six weeks flew by faster than Mollie anticipated, the end of summer drawing closer, and Tyson only had few weeks before he needed to get back to Buffalo for training camp. His time at his cabin had come to an end, as had Mollie’s, so he’d come to stay at her apartment with her while he figured out what he wanted to for his remaining time.
The more time Mollie could spend with him, the better, so she wasn’t going to complain. Especially if it meant waking up in Tyson's arms in the mornings. Even if it meant Tyson watching her with adoring expressions as she shuffled through old lesson plans to see which she could spruce up ahead of the upcoming school year.
A few days into them living in her apartment together though, Tyson made breakfast for them both and sat down opposite her with a serious expression on his face, making her a little nervous. They ate mostly in silence, the radio playing in the background, and it wasn’t until he’d put their plates in the sink that Tyson was ready to talk.
“Everything’s been so good between us, right?” he blurted.
The nervous expression on his face made her heart twinge, and not in a fun way.
“It has for me?” she offered, wincing.
“It has for me too, I promise,” he said quickly, taking the edge off her anxiety, “I just…I’ve been thinking a lot. About our future. Where we could end up. Where I want our relationship to end up.”
She tried valiantly to ignore how her heart started beating a little faster.
“What have you been thinking?” she prompted, hoping her voice didn’t sound too shaky.
“I don’t know where I’m going to end up with hockey in the future. The Avs didn’t want me, it didn’t work out with the Wild, and who knows where I’ll be after this coming year with the Sabres after all the up and down this past season. I don’t know where I’ll be playing or what city I’ll be in, but…will you come with me?”
Mollie’s jaw dropped slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He wanted her to go with him? To leave Kelowna? Tyson saw her shock and immediately reached across the island counter to take both of her hands in his, desperate to ground her as he knew she needed.
“I know this is fast, or at least it would be by normal relationship standards, but with how long we’ve known each other and with how right this feels…I just can’t bear the thought of another 9 months without you. Especially not in Buffalo,” Tyson said, his eyes wide and honest.
Go with Tyson? Uproot everything she’d ever known, move away from all her friends, her job, her life?
“Tyson, I…”
She trailed off, biting her lip, unsure of how to continue as her thoughts swirled. But as soon as she did, she noticed how Tyson’s shoulders slumped slightly, his grip on her hands going limp.
“No, you’re right. It’s too soon, isn’t it? I couldn’t ask you to give up your whole life, just like that, that's not fair on you,” Tyson sighed, finally dropping her hands.
Her breath caught in her throat at the defeat in his eyes. That, more than anything else, she hated. How he second guessed himself? His lack of self confidence? That devastation, it just wasn’t right. So Mollie shook her head, taking his hands back in hers.
“Tys, I need a moment to process, yeah?”
He nodded, a glimmer of hope entering his eyes again, making her smile slightly. Mollie huffed out a breath, running her thumbs over his knuckles, as she tried to process his words. Moving with Tyson – moving in with Tyson fully – would change everything. It would be the biggest step she’d ever taken with a relationship, but with Tyson it would be…
“Tell me what’s going through your mind,” Tyson begged, interrupting her flow.
“You just can’t stand the silence huh,” she teased, unable to resist.
“You know I can’t,” he laughed.
But the laugh was strained, making her sigh. Time to be honest.
“I guess…the main thing going through my mind is that this is such a big step,” she admitted.
“Yeah it is. But it’s also exciting? And I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure it would work,” Tyson said honestly.
She couldn’t help but blush slightly. The fact that he was so certain about their relationship was refreshing. And she knew that Tyson always put his whole heart into everything, which was exciting - no-one else had ever had this conviction.
“What about my job? My friends? My family? And a visa? I’ve never even left BC, you know I haven’t,” Mollie prompted, going through all her doubts.
Tyson tilted his head back slightly, averting his eyes as he chewed his lip, clearly deep in thought. She couldn’t help but smile – he really was putting so much effort into this.
“I know you love teaching, even though the school you’re at right now has terrible parents…but I know you’d also smash any teaching job in any place, so I think that part is solvable? Family and friends though…that’s the big sacrifice. And I know, because it sucks leaving mine at the end of every summer. It’s sucked leaving you at the end of every summer, even though we were only ever just friends before. I don’t want to leave you again, but I understand if only seeing everyone else a few times a year outside of summer is a deal breaker,” Tyson sighed, “The visa thing I can work out with my agent, so that shouldn’t be an issue. And I know that you haven’t ever left BC – but there’s so much of the world I want to show you, even if that starts with Buffalo.”
Mollie huffed out a breath at his words, knowing he was speaking from the heart. But what should she do? Tyson watched the frustration play out across her face and smiled sadly, squeezing her hands in comfort.
“Hey, whatever you decide, just know that it won’t change how much I love you, yeah?” he said softly.
He loves her? Of all the times to drop that declaration, so simple and sweet. How could her heart not sing at that?
“My god, Tys, I love you too. So much. And you’re right, it would suck to watch you leave again because everything is so different this year. I finally have you and to lose you?”
Mollie frowned, shaking her head as she cut herself off. How could she let him go?
Tyson saw the change in her expression, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “So…?” he asked hopefully.
She laughed at his prompting, and squeezed his hands back.
“Yeah, Tyson, I’m willing to try this, to try us,” Mollie nodded, smiling, “I’ll move with you, to Buffalo, and then wherever you go after that.”
Tyson whooped and stood up from his chair, making her laugh again as he ran around to her side of the island, which quickly turned into a squeal as he threw his arms around her and picked her up to spin her in a circle. The joy in his face was just pure happiness, and Mollie knew right then that she’d made the right decision.
“I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us,” Tyson grinned, resting his forehead against hers.
There was so much to think about, with moving, with getting a visa, with her job, with her apartment in Kelowna. But a future with Tyson? That was all Mollie wanted - and she couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them either.
#my writing#tyson jost fic#summer days pass me by#tyson jost imagine#tyson jost fanfic#tyson jost x oc#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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Night In | Shikamaru Nara x OC
YOOOOOOOO WHATS GOOD HOMIES I HOPE YALL ARE HAVIN A GREAT DAY!!!! i finally finished the art so that means i CAN POST THIS FIC HEHEHEH this was a lot of fun to write, it was another self indulgent piece of smut from my oc's story!! i really dont know if i have much else to say about this tbh 🧍♀️ i guess other than if you dont like ocs or fics about ocs then just go somewhere else bc thats all i post here HAHAHAH ANYWAYS ill be posting the full art on my twitter account and then be linking to it when it's up! i hope yall like this i really worked hard on it 💜
Pairings: Shikamaru Nara x OC
Word Count: 9.5k
Genre: Smut
Warnings: None
Contents: 18+ MINORS DNI. Pre-established relationship, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, toy use, anal, spanking, breeding kink, overstimulation, squirting, sir kink, use of "daddy", unprotected sex, creampie with the intent of impregnation. Entirely self indulgent. No editing, we die like women. If I missed any, please let me know!
Summary: While having a nice night to themselves, Shikamaru's wife tells him that their son wants a little sibling.
Being a parent to a toddler was hard work. The diaper changing, the clean up after playtime, the meal making, not to mention the fatigue from constant sleepless nights. Shikamaru was lucky in that regard; he spent most of his time at work as Kakashi's right hand helping him run the village. He did his best to help out when he could, of course, but since his job was so demanding, it meant that Yuuna was at home most of the time looking after their son. It was exhausting.
But none of that was even the worst part. The hardest thing was the fact that their time together was so limited. Because Shikamaru was always at work, he often didn't come home until late, and rarely had any time off. And when he did get home, Shikaro would fuss and the couple would have to find a way to calm down their son. By the time he was feeling better and had fallen back to sleep, they would be too exhausted to spend time together and would go right to bed. So when Yuuna's brother offered to babysit for the night, she couldn't have been more excited.
"You're serious? You'll look after him tonight?" She grinned, holding her son in her arms. Shikaro reached a hand out to his uncle and touched his face, running his little hand across the burn scar over Tetsuya's left eye.
"Yeah, totally!" He confirmed with a chuckle as his nephew curiously explored the damaged skin on his face. "I know you could have pawned him off on Shikamaru's mom, but it's been a while since I've had some quality time with my little buddy."
Shikaro reached out to grab Tetsuya. The man took his nephew from his sister and held him up, planting a smooch on the toddler's cheek. The toddler cooed happily, wrapping his arms around his uncle's neck. Yuuna let out a giggle watching her brother dote on her son and sighed.
"Thank you, Tetsuya. You have no idea how much this means." She gave her brother a sincere smile, extending a hand out to touch him gently on the arm.
"Hey, it's no problem. I figured that since I'm cleared of missions until the weekend, I could lend a helping hand." He looked at Shikaro and hoisted him up a little, shifting his weight. "You and Shikamaru both work so hard and could use a break, so it's the least I can do as your brother."
She smiled at him again and looked over at her son. "Whaddya say, buddy? Do you wanna hang out with uncle Tetsuya tonight?"
"Yah yah!!" He clapped, looking down at his uncle. "Unco Tetsu, Unco Tetsu!!"
"I'll take that as a yes, huh?" Tetsuya laughed, planting another kiss on the toddler's cheek.
"C'mon buddy, let's go see daddy at work and then we'll get ready, okay?" Yuuna said as she grabbed Shikaro from her brother's arms.
"Yah yah!! Gonna see daddy!" He exclaimed excitedly.
"I'll stop by around three and drop him off. That work for you?" She suggested, turning back to her brother.
"Yeah, sounds perfect." Tetsuya smiled. He grabbed Shikaro's hand and squeezed it gently. "I'll see you soon, little man!"
The siblings turned and walked away from one another with a wave, and Shikaro called out after him.
"Baibai Unco Tetsu!!" He exclaimed with a smile, waving happily after him. He looked up at his mother and she met his eyes. "I get to play wif Unco Tetsu today mama!!"
"You sure do, buddy!" She giggled, nuzzling her nose against his. "Are you excited?"
Shikaro nodded and turned back to watch his uncle walking away. "Mama, I wanna brover to play wif me and Unco Tetsu!" He turned back to look at his mom, who stopped walking for a minute to look at him. "Can I have a brover? Pweeeeeease?"
Yuuna had to stop herself from bursting into laughter before she continued on their commute. "Maybe. I'll have to see what daddy says. No promises."
The walk to the Hokage's office didn't take long. As Yuuna walked down the hall, two members of Team Guy were leaving the office. Shikaro noticed the familiar faces and demanded to say hi to his auntie and uncle. Neji had to practically pry Tenten away from the toddler so they wouldn't be late for their mission. Once the duo was gone, Yuuna walked up to the office door and knocked lightly, waiting for the invitation into the room.
"Come on in," Kakashi called out from behind the wood. Yuuna opened the door and smiled brightly as she locked eyes with her husband.
"Hey, what are you two doing here?" Shikamaru chuckled, walking over to his family. He turned to Kakashi, "Sorry, do you mind if I excuse myself for a sec?"
"Of course, take your time." Kakashi grinned.
The Nara turned back to his wife and son and placed his hand on her back as he gently escorted them out of the office and guided them a little ways down the hall. Shikaro reached out for his father who happily held him in his arms.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you two," He started, looking from Shikaro to Yuuna. "But what are you doing here? You don't usually come by the office."
"Well, I have some good news!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "My brother wanted to look after Shikaro tonight, to give us a break! Which means if you're not here too late, we can finally have an evening to ourselves!"
"I'm gonna play wif Unco Tetsu today!" Shikaro reiterated, enthusiastically throwing his hands up into the air.
"Oh, is that so?" Shikamaru grinned looking at his son. The boy nodded his head. "Well, that sure sounds like it's gonna be a whole lot of fun, huh?"
"Yah yah!! Gonna hab a play day!" Shikaro clapped his hands together. Shikamaru looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow.
"You know my mother's gonna have a fit when she finds out that he's staying with Tetsuya and not her, right?" He chuckled.
"Yoshino's had plenty of time with him!" Yuuna countered. "Not that I'm not grateful for the help she's given us, but she always jumps at the opportunity. So when Tetsuya offered, of course I said yes. I figured it would be nice for him to have some uncle-nephew time with him, y'know?"
He hoisted Shikaro up a little and softened his expression slightly. "Just don't tell my mother that. She's gonna be on my butt for not being able to dote on her grandson."
Yuuna giggled and took a step closer to him, placing her arms on his. "Don't worry, she'll never know." She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips. "So, think you can finish early tonight? Thought we could cook dinner together and then maybe watch a movie or something."
He looked over his shoulder at the office door, then back to his wife. "It's been pretty slow today, I think I can swing that."
She bounced on her toes excitedly and clapped her hands. "Awesome!! I'm dropping Shikaro off at Tetsuya's in about an hour and a half. I can start dinner when I get back."
They began to head back towards the office. Shikamaru looked down at Yuuna as they walked and smiled. "I can probably be home around four, if that works."
She nodded as she curled her fingers around the doorknob. "That's perfect." She opened the door and the couple walked back into the office. Shikaro's eyes lit up when he saw Kakashi and he cooed happily. She took him from her husband and held him closely.
"Everything alright?" The Hokage asked casually. The couple nodded.
"We're finally getting a break tonight and I wanted to plan dinner, that's all." She giggled.
Kakashi hummed and leaned back in his chair. "That's good to hear. You deserve it with how hard the two of you work."
"It's been kinda dead today, think I can call it early?" Shikamaru asked, turning to look from his wife to Kakashi. The Hokage looked down at the stack of paperwork on his desk and swiveled in his chair a little.
"I think once we get through this stack, I can handle the rest for the day." His eyes crinkled as he smiled under his mask. Shikamaru gave a subtle smirk as he turned to look at his wife and son.
"There you go, you heard it yourself." He spoke, placing his hands in his pockets as he shifted his weight. "Gimme a few hours and I'll be home, sound good?"
Yuuna beamed up at her husband and nodded. "That sounds perfect." She turned back towards Kakashi and gave a small bow. "Sorry for showing up unexpectedly, thanks for letting me talk to him."
Kakashi chuckled and waved a hand dismissively in front of his face. "No, no, it's no problem. You're welcome to stop by whenever you like, you know." He took note of the toddler staring and cooing at him, then waved at him. "And Shikaro is welcome to visit his father any time he likes, too."
Yuuna hoisted the child up a little and chuckled. "Shikaro, say hi to Lord Hokage!" She requested, waving her hand at Kakashi to demonstrate. He looked at his mother and then at Kakashi and smiled, waving back at him like she was.
"Hi Lord Hokage!" He chimed, waving excitedly. The adults smiled at him and all chuckled in unison.
"Alright, well, we'll let you guys get back to work." Yuuna sighed with a grin, turning to face her husband. She reached up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss onto his lips. "I'll see you when you get home, baby."
Shikamaru placed a hand on her arm as she kissed him, stroking it gently when she pulled away. "Sounds good." He looked down at his son and cupped his hand around the back of his head gently and leaned down to plant a loving kiss on his forehead. "Be good for mommy and Uncle Tetsuya, okay?"
Shikaro clapped and nodded. "Okay, I pwomise!!"
They shared their goodbyes and went back to work and Yuuna headed back home to the Nara residence. Once home, she let Shikaro run around the house to collect his favourite toys and pajamas while she packed his essentials. He came running back with two armfuls of different toys and stuffed animals he wanted to bring, but they managed to narrow it down to three items after some fussing. She let him hold onto one and packed away the other two. Once his bag was packed and ready to go, she threw together some quick snacks for him to eat before she brought him over to her brother. Whatever he didn't eat she packed away into a lunch box and included it with his overnight bag.
The time to leave came quickly, and Shikaro couldn't have been more excited. He made the decision to walk instead of having his mother carry him. Yuuna walked close beside her son and watched as he waddled along, holding his hand and guiding him in the proper direction. When they reached Tetsuya's apartment Shikaro ran inside with an excited screech. The siblings laughed and Yuuna handed off Shikaro's overnight bag to Tetsuya. She called her son over to say goodbye, picking him up and planting a motherly kiss on the child's lips. She hugged her son tightly and set him down and he ran back off into his uncle's house. She then pulled Tetsuya into a hug as well. They exchanged goodbyes and then went their separate ways.
On the way home, she decided to stop by the market and pick up some ingredients for dinner. Once they were purchased she headed home and began to sift through her fridge and cupboards to find everything that they'd need to make their meal. It wasn't long into the preparations when she heard the front door open.
"Hey, I'm home." Shikamaru called out from the hallway. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his flak jacket, setting it down on the couch as he passed by the living room. He wandered into the kitchen and stood behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to press a kiss to the side of her head. "I haven't heard the house this quiet in years."
"I know, and we have all night to enjoy it!" Yuuna giggled as she started peeling a potato. She turned her head slightly to look at him and smiled. "Now come help, I wanna cook together!"
He sighed and kissed her head again, releasing her from his grip. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a large kitchen knife and began to chop the carrots that Yuuna had already peeled. They stood at the kitchen counter together, enjoying one another's company as they prepped their dinner. Once everything had been cooked, Yuuna poured them some drinks and they sat down at the dinner table to eat. They took the time to catch up with everything that they'd missed from the other. Having a toddler and different schedules made it difficult sometimes to hold casual conversations, so they hadn't had a chance in quite some time to be able to sit down to talk the way they were doing now. They kept their conversation going all throughout dinner, and when they were finished eating they helped one another clean up. When the last dish was washed, they brought their drinks over to the sofa where they sat cuddled up next to one another. Yuuna looked up at her husband and smiled over her wine glass.
"Cheers to having the house to ourselves for a change." She chuckled, holding her glass up in front of her. Shikamaru eyed her wine glass with a grin and chuckled, clinking his glass against hers.
"I'll drink to that." He smirked, taking a sip of his beer.
He draped his arm around the back of the couch, letting his fingers trace circles on her shoulder. She rested her hand on his thigh, running it up and down his leg as she took another sip of wine.
"I love you, baby." She hummed, looking into his eyes. He planted his hand down on her shoulder and pulled her in close to him, pressing his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. He pulled away after a minute and looked into her emerald gaze.
"I love you too, noodle." He grinned, closing the gap between them again. She hummed contently against his lips, then pulled away to take another sip of her drink.
They sat there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, tensions slowly building as the alcohol in their systems gradually began to take effect. He continued to rub her shoulder, slipping his hand underneath her sweater to drag his fingernails along her bare skin. Her hand began to move higher and higher up his leg every time she stroked back up his thigh. She shifted a little, moving closer to him with a goofy smile on her face.
"So Shikaro was asking about wanting a brother today." She mentioned, heat rising to her face. Shikamaru took another sip of his beer and placed the empty glass down on the coffee table in front of them.
"Oh he did, did he?" He spoke quietly, inching his face closer to hers and resting his now free hand on her knee. Yuuna finished off her wine, placing her empty glass down to accompany his on the table.
"Mhmm," she nodded, looking between his mocha eyes with a smile, "He was saying he wished he had a brother to take on his play dates and asked me if he could have one."
"And what did you tell him?" He began to rub his hand from her knee up her thigh. She bit her lip lightly as she felt her heart pounding.
"I told him I'd have to ask daddy." She reached her free hand up to cup his face, rubbing her thumb along his cheek as she looked at his lips.
"Well, whaddya think? Should we give him a sibling?" He pulled her closer to him, their lips barely touching, "'Cause daddy wouldn't mind fucking another baby into you."
She let out a shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering at the words that dripped off his tongue like honey. A tightness arose in the pit of her stomach and she surged forward, pressing her lips hard enough against his to make him lean back. She glided her hand up his thigh and over his crotch, rubbing his stiffening erection with a smile. He let out a low groan at the stimulation, in turn sliding his hand down from her shoulder to her breast. He massaged her flesh between his fingers, pulling it out from her bra for easier access. She parted her lips and dragged her tongue across his mouth, pushing it past lips to meet his. He leaned forward and pushed her down onto her back, rolling her sweater up to her collarbone and unclasping her bra. He began to knead her tits between his fingers as his tongue lashed against hers, slating a knee between her legs as she ground down against it.
"So desperate, I guess you do want daddy to fuck a baby into you, huh?" He growled hungrily, tugging at her lip with his teeth as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She let out a quiet moan, breathing heavily as she rutted her hips upwards against his knee. He kissed her again, their tongues meeting in a heated dance for a moment before he pulled away. "No need to be quiet this time, there's nobody else here. I wanna hear just how good I make you feel."
Shikamaru shifted his head down just enough to be able to take one of her nipples into his mouth, flicking at the bud with his tongue. She let out another quiet moan into the air. Unimpressed, he bit down on her nipple harshly, eliciting a loud yelp from his wife.
"Ow, what the fuck was that?" Yuuna scolded, brows furrowed and face flushed. He licked at the nub again, sucking on it gently.
"I said you don't have to be quiet." He pulled away from her chest with a loud pop and looked into her eyes with a mischievous smile. "I wanna hear every noise that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours, and I want to hear it loud. Gotta hear how good I make you feel."
Before she could respond he immediately took her nipple into his mouth again, flicking his tongue against it quickly as he pinched the other between his fingers. She moaned again, louder this time. He smiled against her skin as he kneaded her breast in his hand, a hungry growl resonating in the back of his throat.
"That's my girl," He huffed as he continued to lap at her sensitive nipple. She rolled her hips forward against his knee again and brought one hand up to the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair and loosening it from his hair tie. She breathed out another sultry moan and could feel his lips turning up into a smile against her skin. "Fuck, you're so needy, aren't you?"
"Gimme a break, it's been a minute since the last time we fucked." She joked with a pant, reaching her hand down into his trousers to curl her fingers around his girth. He let out a loud groan and bit down lightly on her nipple as he rutted his hips into her hand. She smirked down at him and bit her lip. "Looks like you're just as needy for me, huh?"
He pulled away from her with a pop, her breast bouncing as it settled against her chest again. Shikamaru frowned down at her and sucked the air through his teeth, his face flushing red as her grin grew wider.
"What's the matter?" She cooed, giving his cock a few steady pumps and running her thumb over his slit. He huffed out another low groan, his eyes shutting as his hips involuntarily bucked forward into her handq9. "You're not getting flustered, are you?"
He opened his eyes and grimaced, furrowing his brows as he swiftly shifted his thigh from between her legs and replaced it with his fingers, slipping them under her leggings and gliding them over her soaking panties. She opened her mouth to gasp but he shoved his tongue into her mouth to stifle the noise before she could. "Would you just shut up and let me take care of you?" He growled as he pulled away for breath, the small string of saliva that connected their tongues dissipating. "Quit being such a pain and let me take the reins, would you?"
Yuuna's eyelids closed half way as she looked up at her husband. Normally she would be a bit more stubborn and protest, but tonight was different. It was the first time in months that they'd been able to be together like this without having to worry about being too loud or too discreet. So she decided to bite her tongue, just this once. She smiled up at him and spread her knees apart, allowing him to move his hand freely. He scoffed in response, moving in to kiss her again as he slipped his hand under her panties to touch her bare skin. She moaned loudly into his mouth, removing her hand from inside his pants and wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in closer.
"That's more like it." He slid his fingers through her folds, slicking them with her arousal before dipping his middle finger into her sex. He began to leisurely move his digit in and out of her hole, closing the gap between their faces again with a slow, passionate kiss. "Such a good girl, so wet for me." He chuckled as he pulled away for air, adding a second finger to stretch her out a little more. She bit her lip and moaned with a smile, looking up at him as she ground her hips against his hand.
"'Cause you make me feel so good," She whispered, running her hands along his arms. He smirked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah?" He inquired, tilting his head to the side a bit with a grin. He continued to move his hand at a slow and steady pace, his eyes fixated on her emerald gaze. "Why don't you tell me just how good I make you feel, huh?" He began to move his wrist quicker, feeling her walls clench around his fingers. She panted and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, grinding down hard against his hand.
"So good," She whimpered, her brows turning upward in a longing expression. "Fuck, feels so good, love it when you play with my pussy baby."
He felt his cock twitch under his pants as she spoke so boldly, slowing his wrist movement again and diving down to take one of her nipples between his lips once more. He lashed at it with his tongue, and when he was done he dragged his mouth across her chest to the other one to do the same. She moaned loudly again, in turn causing Shikamaru to groan against her flesh. He trailed his tongue up her chest to her collarbone, then to her neck, then to the shell of her ear. He suckled on her earlobe as he continued to thrust his fingers into her.
"Daddy's gonna fuck you so good tonight." He growled into her ear, tracing his tongue along her earlobe before shifting to look down at her with a devilish grin. The look alone was enough to make her cunt throb. He felt her clench around his fingers and he slid them out of her hole to circle her clit. "Sounds like you're into that, aren't you?"
She nodded her head and ground her hips against his digits, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. As soon as their lips met, they let their tongues explore the other's mouth, swirling around in a heated dance. Shikamaru slipped both hands into the elastic waistband of Yuuna's leggings and underwear, and slid them down past her ankles and off of her legs. He began to shift backwards on the couch, kissing down her neck as he went. His lips traveled to her collarbone, then across the expanse of her chest, then down to her stomach, and then stopped as he hovered his lips above her aching clit. He massaged her inner thighs, squeezing them and running his hands up and down, pulling apart her folds to get a good look at her dripping, trembling hole. He shifted forward slightly to kiss her clit, and again, and again, spreading her pussy open. She whimpered at the sensation, bucking her hips forward. He looked up at her as he held her lips open, kissing her nerves again.
"What's the matter?" He grumbled with a sly grin on his face, his lips just barely touching her flesh as he spoke.
She grabbed onto the back of his head and tried to pull him forward but he didn't budge. She tried to grind her hips forward but he pulled back every time, denying her the relief she wanted. "C-C'mon, please, I need it," She whined, brows turning up to look at her husband desperately.
"Need what?" He chuckled as he continued to pull apart her folds, teasing her further. "You know I can't give you what you want unless you tell me what it is."
Her face burned hot. He did this every time, and he knew it was a surefire way to get her flustered and submissive. She bit down on her lip and gripped down onto his head. "L-Lick my p-pussy," She whispered, averting his gaze. He squinted at her and called out to her to bring her attention back to him.
"If you're gonna tell me what you want, you better look me in the eyes when you tell me," He growled between her legs, "Otherwise I'm not doing a goddamn thing."
She could feel her cunt trembling again as he scolded her. She swallowed and looked him in the eyes, face hot and flushed, "I–...I want you to l-lick my pussy, please," She pleaded quietly. Her clit throbbed as he spread her cunt open again, swallowing as she saw him smile.
"I don't quite think I heard you." He growled, breath hot on her skin, his lips once again barely touching her sensitive bud. She gripped down tightly onto his head, grasping at his hair, watching him with needy eyes.
"I want you to lick my pussy," She spoke loudly, her body trembling as she felt the build up of pressure in her gut, desperate for release. "Please, I w-want you to lick my pussy and make me cum…!!"
Without another word, Shikamaru dove forward and began lashing his tongue against her clit and she immediately let out a lewd moan that echoed through their empty home. She ground down against his tongue as it lapped at her clit, pulling one of her hands up to her breast to massage the flesh between her fingers. He let out a soft groan at the taste of her on his tongue, wrapping his arms around her thighs and holding her against his mouth as he continued to devour her sex like he'd never get another chance. He dug his fingernails into her thighs and nodded his head along as he licked from her entrance to her clit and then back, dipping his tongue into her entrance and fucking her with his mouth.
She moaned out loud again, flicking her thumb over her nipple as her other hand buried itself in Shikamaru's hair, watching as he ate her pussy like a starved animal. He groaned again at the taste of her on his tongue, pulling out of her clenching walls and whipping his tongue against her puffy clit. Her breathing became laboured as the telltale signs of her approaching orgasm were drawing closer. He shifted one hand from her thigh, inserting two fingers into her hole as he began to thrust. She bucked her hips forward, grinding against his face as her moans got louder and louder, doing nothing but spurring him on more. He grinned as she squirmed around, using his free hand to press down hard against her womb, keeping her in place.
"C'mon, baby, cum for Daddy," He grunted, watching her blissful expression as he pleasured her. He could feel her walls tightening around his fingers and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smug smile as he listened to her falling apart on his tongue. "Atta girl, cum for me, yeah?"
With his instruction, Yuuna's back arched up off of the couch as she rode his tongue and fingers, her eyes rolling back into her skull with a lewd moan as she climaxed. Her body shook and squirmed as she rolled her hips against his face, riding out her orgasm, panting to catch her breath. He continued to suckle on her aching clit as she came around his fingers, lips pulled into a triumphant smile as he watched her expression of pure ecstacy. As she came down from her high she bucked her hips and writhed around, her entire body sensitive from her orgasm. He pulled his fingers out from her soaking cunt and sat up, crawling overtop of her with a huff. He leaned in close and shoved his tongue past her lips, cupping the back of her head with one hand as he held her face against his. A lewd moan slipped out of her throat at the taste of her pussy on his tongue and it sent a throb right between her legs. He pulled away to catch his breath and she panted beneath him, eyes glassed over with pleasure.
"You're gonna walk over to the bedroom, get naked, then get on the bed on all fours. Your ass better be up in the air by the time I get in there, understood?" He growled, glaring down at her with a primal hunger in his eyes. She nodded her head a few times and was shifting to get off the couch. Unsatisfied with her response, Shikamaru scoffed and gave her a light slap on the cheek. He grabbed her face between his fingers and squished her face, forcing her to look up at him. "Is that how you address me?"
"Y-Yes sir," She answered again, speech impaired slightly from his hand squeezing her lips together. He smirked and released her face, pulling back from her to allow her to sit up.
She scooted off the couch and quickly made her way to their bedroom. Shikamaru watched her as she walked down the hallway, making sure to get a good look at her ass as it bounced with every step she took. When she was out of sight he let out a satisfied chuckle. With one arm draped over the back of the sofa, he moved the other down to fist his cock and give it a few steady strokes. When he heard the creaking of their bed, he stood up and walked down the hallway to the threshold of their bedroom. As he had requested of her, Yuuna had removed her clothes and was laying face down on the bed, her legs spread and her ass up in the air. He smirked and strolled over to the bed, removing his trousers, and sunk his knees into the mattress behind her.
He ran his hands along the expanse of her ass, giving it a squeeze before landing a harsh spank against her skin. She jolted and let out a yelp. He massaged her ass cheek to ease the pain before repeating the process until the skin was burning bright red. He fisted his cock again and gave it a few steady pumps before sliding it through her dripping folds a few times, then pulled his hips back and slapped his shaft against her asshole. He wrapped her ass cheeks around his cock as he began to slowly grind his hips forward. She let out a quiet, needy moan at the sensation, feeling her cunt throb at the thought of his cock inside her.
"F-Fuck, p-please," She whined, wiggling her hips invitingly. "N-Need it, n-need your cock."
He leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, kissing the back of her neck. "What do you need, huh?"
"Fuck me," She replied without hesitation, backing her hips up against him. "Need your cock inside me, n-need you to stretch me out, p-please…!"
He chuckled at her desperation and kissed her neck again, then down her back. He sat up and ran his cock through her folds again, coating it with her arousal before pushing the head of his cock past her entrance. He pushed his hips forward and buried his cock deep into her cunt, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix. She mewled loudly, the position allowing him to hit deep into her pussy. She began to bounce her hips on his cock, her face pressed into the pillows as she panted. He grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed the skin, gripping onto it tightly as he matched her pace.
The room quickly filled with the sounds of lewd squelching, skin slapping, and lustful moans. Shikamaru tipped his head to the side as he watched his cock disappear into her cunt, fucking hard into her soaking pussy with ease. He let one hand rest at his side and pressed the other flat against the small of her back, holding her down. He huffed with a devilish grin as an idea crossed his mind. He spat down onto her asshole and circled it with the pad of his thumb. Yuuna's body reacted to the sensation and he could feel her walls tightening around his cock. He then slowly inserted his thumb past her rim down to the first knuckle.
"Fuuuuuck–...!!" She moaned, her eyes rolling back as he began to thrust his thumb in and out of her asshole in rhythm with his cock.
"Like that, don't you?" He grunted, sinking his thumb deeper into her hole. She nodded in agreement, moving one of her hands to her clit where she began to rub it with her fingers. He felt her walls clench around his cock again and he pulled his thumb from her ass, spitting down on it again and inserting his middle and ring fingers instead. She groaned hungrily as he scissored his digits inside her hole, bouncing her ass harder against his cock and fingers, flicking quickly at her clit. "Yeah, that's a good girl."
Her eyes crossed and her brows furrowed upwards as she felt her orgasm drawing close. He inserted a third finger into her ass, thrusting hard as his cock throbbed inside her cunt. It was enough to push her over the edge, and she screamed out loud as she came around his cock, rubbing her clit fast as she let her orgasm take over her body. She twitched underneath him, her knees trembling as she continued to slowly trace circles around her clit and back her hips up against him.
"Look at you, falling apart on my cock like a dirty little slut," He groaned, slowing his hips and leaning forward so his chest was pressed against her back. He ground his cock lazily into her hole, kissing her neck and nibbling on her earlobe. "What do you say to me for making you cum, huh?"
"Th-Thank you," she sputtered, her eyes halfway closed and her hips shaking as she felt his fingers moving inside her ass and his cock sliding in and out of her hole. He scoffed and used his free hand to grab onto her face and pull her head up, locking eyes with his wife.
"Thank you what?" He grunted, leisurely rutting his hips against hers. She swallowed and a quiet moan slipped past her lips.
"Th-Thank you, sir," She slurred, eyes fluttering halfway closed and rolling back into her skull getting drunk off his dick.
He grinned and released her face from his grip, pressing his lips to her cheek and licking at her salty skin, "Atta girl." He pulled his head away from hers and sat up, pressing his free hand flat against the side of her head and pushing her into the pillows. He tipped his head to the side and watched his cock disappear inside her, pulling his fingers out from her asshole and instead dug them into her hips. The lustful whine she gave didn't go unnoticed. Shikamaru squinted down at her and sucked the air through his teeth. "What's the matter? You want this hole filled up too?"
He felt her nod under his hand and the wicked grin on his lips only grew wider. Keeping himself buried deep inside her cunt, he stopped moving to reach over to her bedside table. He opened the drawer to find her hidden stash of toys he knew were there. Leaning over, he reached into the drawer to pull out her bottle of lube and her favourite toy; a large, mint green, silicone dildo. He'd come home late a handful of times to see her shoving it quickly back into the drawer to try and hide it, but he knew right away what she was hiding from him. He opened the bottle of lubricant and squeezed some of the water-based liquid onto the tip of the dildo, letting it drip down the rubber shaft. He pressed the head of the toy up against her asshole.
"This what you wanted?" He inquired with a cocked eyebrow and a sly grin as he once more began to move his hips against hers. She looked at him over her shoulder, eyes hazy and full of lust.
"Yes sir," she squeaked, nodding her head and staring at the silicone toy. Her mouth began to water and she licked her lips. He scoffed and furrowed his brow.
"And what exactly is it that you want?" He pressed, rutting his cock into her at a lax pace. He could see Yuuna's face burn bright red and it brought a grin right back to his face.
"C-Cock…in my a-ass…" She mewled, pushing her hips back against her husband and the toy in an attempt to satisfy her need for feeling full. She swallowed thickly and picked herself up, supporting her weight with her hands and fisting the bed sheets beneath her. She turned her head to look at him and meet his eyes with a needy whine. "P-Please, want you to fill me up, f-fuck my ass and my pussy."
He let out a groan and shoved the dildo into her ass all the way to the base and she let out a cry of mixed pleasure and pain. The sudden gesture caused her to lose her balance and she fell forward, burying her face in the pillows once more. He leaned over her, ramming his cock deep into her sex as he thrusted the toy swiftly in and out of her ass.
"Dirty little slut," He growled, pressing his lips against her shoulder and biting at her skin. She let out a slew of moans as the pressure built up in her gut once more. He smirked against her salty skin, moving both his wrist and his hips at a steady pace. He glanced back to watch the green cock slide in and out of her tight ass, grunting as he moved the toy quicker. He continued to ram the fake cock into her hole, matching the pace with his hips as he plowed into her cunt. The intensity of the combined thrusts was enough to send her hurtling towards another orgasm, crying out his name in ecstasy as her vision went white.
Her eyes crossed and her body convulsed as she gripped onto the pillow, tears spilling down her cheeks at the immense pleasure that racked her body. He huffed and slowed his pace to catch his breath.
"That's my good girl," he praised, kissing her shoulder again. He moved his lips to meet hers, licking into her mouth and groaning against her tongue. He pulled away with a pant, saliva dribbling down his chin as his tongue lolled from his mouth for a moment. He pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, "You're gonna get on top of me and fuck yourself on my cock, understood?"
Her eyelids fluttered as he spoke and she compliantly nodded her head. She felt his body moving away from hers and whined when he pulled out of her holes. He sat behind her for a moment and gave her ass a light spank, groping her flesh in his hands and pulling her ass cheeks apart. He watched as her hole twitched and gaped now that it was empty, smirking from above her.
"So desperate to be full, aren't you sweetheart?" He muttered, landing another smack against her skin. The harsh contact made her yelp and her body shook. He kneaded her flesh between his fingers, slicking the dildo up with her arousal before dipping it back into her ass again only twice. He pulled the toy out of her hole and watched it gape again as she looked over her shoulder at him and whined.
He flashed another sly smile to her and moved to lay down next to her on his back. She got on top of her husband, straddling his waist and pressing her hands down against his chest. She began to roll her hips against him, rubbing her sensitive clit against his shaft. His hands moved to her waist where his nails dug into her flesh, watching her hips move against his body. He bit at his lip and groaned, throwing his head back into the pillow and bucking his hips up against her. She giggled as she moved, watching his expression from above him.
"Does that feel good, baby?" She purred, circling her hips languidly against Shikamaru's. He looked up into her eyes and furrowed his brow with a scoff, grabbing a fistful of her hair and snapping her head to the side. She shut her eyes and let out a hiss at the stinging on her scalp. Her eyes opened to see his glaring daggers back at her.
"Don't you go thinking that you're in charge just because you're on top," he growled into the air. He tugged her hair again and she whimpered, shutting her eyes once more. "Now do what I told you to do."
One emerald eye met his intense mocha gaze. She nodded her head as much as the grip on her hair would allow her to. "Y-Yes sir." She submitted. His frown turned up into a smirk and he released his grip on her head, shifting his hand to rest on her waist instead.
He watched as she scooted back a little and took the bottle of lube off the bed. She flipped the cap open and squeezed the cold liquid down onto his aching cock, using her free hand to stroke his length and spread the lube down his shaft. She turned around so her back was facing him and wiggled her hips as she lined the head of his cock up with her ass. With a gasp, she lowered herself down onto his cock, burying him deep inside of her. She panted as she moved her hips up then sunk back down onto him. He snaked his hands up to her waist and sucked the air through his teeth, digging his fingers into her plush skin and watching as his girth disappeared inside her asshole. The tightness made his dick throb and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a pleasured groan.
She leaned forward, pressing her hands into the mattress to keep herself upright as she began to bounce her hips against his cock. She worked herself up into a steady rhythm as she adjusted for the stretch and it wasn't long before she was a mewling mess above him. He matched Yuuna's pace, fucking up into her ass and slapping his hips against hers with labored grunts.
"So fucking tight," he muttered, exhaling sharply through his nose. He watched his cock disappear deep inside her body and he licked his lips. She moved one hand from the mattress to her cunt, spreading her folds apart to caress her aching clit. She circled it with her fingers, dipping her digits inside her entrance and flicking her wrist. Her eyes crossed a little at the sensation, letting a soft whimper roll off her tongue. She glanced down next to her to see her favourite toy laying on the bed. Her pussy throbbed at the thought of having another cock inside her. She pulled her fingers from her hole and picked the dildo up, running it through her folds and coating it with her arousal before pushing it all the way into her sex with ease. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against the mattress and bouncing her hips against the two dicks inside of her.
Her eyelids fluttered half closed and her eyes crossed, her brow turning up as the pleasure grew inside her gut. She yelped in surprise as he landed another spank against her skin, then massaged the flesh between his fingers. He repeated the action a few times, bucking his hips upwards but for the most part letting her do the work. He landed one more slap against her skin before sitting up just enough to snake his arm around her waist and pull her down so her back was flush with his chest. He dug his heels into the mattress and thrusted up fast into her asshole, his cock twitching as her tightness wrapped around him. She met his pace with the dildo, ramming the toy fast and deep into her pussy. Her breath hitched in her throat as the pleasure began to build up inside of her. He watched over her shoulder as she fucked herself with the toy, biting down against her shoulder and slamming his hips up into hers. She let out another yelp and pressed her head back, staring up wide eyed at the ceiling of their bedroom. He repeated the action again, and again, hitting deep inside her with every roll of his hips. He grunted as he held his hips against her ass, panting to catch his breath and watch as she slid the dildo in and out of her wet hole.
"Fuck," she muttered, eyes slamming shut as she bucked her hips forward, both cocks dragging against her walls. Her breathing became labored as her hand moved faster. The head of the dildo punched her cervix with each thrust inside her and she could feel her legs trembling.
He watched over her shoulder again as she used the toy. "Gonna cum again?" He prodded, moving his hips against her once he had caught his breath. He began to move faster, not quite matching the pace of her hand but thrusting hard and deep inside of her ass. She nodded at his question, eyes glassed over with pleasure as tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. He wrapped his other arm tight around her waist and began to thrust up hard into her, matching the rhythm she had set for herself.
Her eyes widened and she cried shamelessly out into the air as the coil inside her gut finally snapped, sending her nerves into overdrive. Her holes clenched tightly around the cocks inside her, and a clear liquid gushed out from her cunt as she came. It splashed onto the bed sheets, soaking through to the mattress around their feet. His eyes narrowed hungrily, watching her hips convulse as she squirted.
"My wife is such a messy girl," He purred into her ear, slowing his hips to an easy, steady rhythm. "Cumming so hard she soaked through the sheets. And now the bed is all wet, what a drag."
She laid on top of him, chest heaving for air as her orgasm subsided. He ran his hands up and down her salty skin, kissing her neck from underneath her, gripping onto her tight. He grasped onto her waist and pushed her up and off of his stiff girth, scooting over to the side and laying her down next to him. He skated his hand down to the front of her body where he grabbed onto the suctioned end of the dildo and slowly pulled it from her clenching pussy, tossing it to the side and ghosting his fingers over her sensitive skin. His hand moved up from her pelvis to her stomach, then to her chest where he grabbed a handful of one of her tits to squeeze and massage, before letting it bounce and settle against her chest as his fingers moved up to her neck. He slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her into a fiery kiss, nodding his head along and licking into her mouth. Her tongue glided against his, a slew of moans dripping off of it as his hand moved back down her body again. He slipped it under her thigh and propped her leg up against his forearm, dipping his fingers into her sensitive core. She twitched at the stimulation but didn't push him away, instead bringing her hand up to touch his face and pull him in closer to her. They pulled away from each other to catch their breath, hot air fanning against the other's face as a string of saliva connected their tongues.
"How's about daddy knocks you up now, huh?" he grinned, looking down at her lips. He watched as she took her lower lip between her teeth and nodded just a little, then pressed his lips against hers once more. He let out a moan against her mouth as he moved his fingers inside of her, curling them upwards to rub against her walls. He pulled away and their eyes locked. "I wanna hear you say it."
"Please," she begged with a pant, reaching her hand down and curling her thin fingers around his cock to give it a few steady strokes. Her emerald eyes reflected in the mocha that stared back at her and she swallowed the desire that was in her throat. Her other hand came up to meet his face, brushing her fingertips against his cheek. “Cum inside me, I want you to make me pregnant.”
His breath hitched in his throat hearing the words come from her mouth and he involuntarily let a groan sound in his throat. Shikamaru surged forward to kiss her again, their tongues meeting with a desperate moan. She used one arm to support her weight on the bed and wrapped the other around the back of his neck, holding him close to her. He pulled his fingers out from her core and grabbed hold of his girth from her, lining the tip up with her entrance. He slowly pushed his hips forward, the head of his cock breaching her tight hole. He gave in to his desire and slammed his hips forward, a hungry growl escaping him as he buried himself deep inside of her. He pressed his forehead against hers as he rutted into her, her walls clenching around him and making him lose his composure. He pinched his brow and closed his eyes as he plunged deep inside of her cunt. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her thigh, holding her leg up to give him room to move. He set a frantic pace, rocking the bed as he dug his heels into the mattress, losing any and all control that he had. Every punch of his hips had his cock hitting her cervix. The pain was enough to make her cry out, but the pleasure she felt far outweighed the ache.
They were both a mess; panting through their noses and moaning against each other's lips, fingers digging into flesh, hips rolling together in sync. Yuuna's skin was on fire, overstimulated from the countless orgasms she'd already had, yet her gut still burned with longing. Her moans increased in volume and she had to pull away from his face to catch her breath as he plowed into her, eyes shutting tight and white knuckle grasping at the bed sheets. He moved his hand down from its spot against her thigh to run his middle and ring fingers in fast circles around her clit, determined to push her towards one final climax before he gave in to his own lust. She began to shake her head as she pulled away from his lips, gasping for air and eyes spilling tears.
"I-I can't, I c-can't…!" She hiccuped, vision blurring as she writhed around underneath him from the assault on her nerves. He pressed his lips to hers again, groaning into her mouth as he flicked his wrist at a pace that almost matched his hips.
"Yes you can," He challenged, his voice husky, a primal look in his eyes. "And you're going to."
Every touch of his body against hers felt like fire under her skin. It was almost too much to bear. He edged her closer and closer to that final burning climax, and when it hit her, she cried out his name and began to tremble as her back arched up off of the bed. She stared up at the ceiling with wide opened eyes as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks, tongue hanging from her mouth, chest heaving desperately as she tried to catch her breath.
He skated his hand back up to her thigh where he grabbed onto her leg and squeezed it in his arms, slamming his hips hard against hers. He could feel the knot inside him unraveling and he closed his eyes tight, allowing the pleasure to finally take him over. His thrusts grew sloppy as he came inside of her with a guttural moan, rolling his hips against hers as he shot thick spurts of his hot cum deep inside her, fucking it into her womb.
"So good baby, you did so good," he huffed in exertion. He laid there next to her and allowed himself to ride out his high, giving his hips a few more shallow bucks until finally he came to a halt. He pressed his forehead to hers gently with his eyes closed. "You did so fucking good."
She laid next to him and whimpered as her body twitched, finally releasing the death grip she had on the bed sheets. Her legs trembled and shook as she stretched them out flat, Shikamaru pulling out of her as a result. Giving a little sniffle, she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks and she smiled at him.
"That was…"
"A little too intense?" He chuckled softly, kissing the tip of her nose as he caressed her burning skin. "Guess I got a little carried away. Sorry about that."
"No, it's fine!" She giggled dismissively at him. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting it."
"Had to take advantage of the opportunity to fuck you silly without worrying about Shikaro, it'd be a drag if I had let it go to waste." He teased, wrapping his arms around Yuuna's waist and nuzzling his nose against her neck. She laughed out loud at his words, humming contently and wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.
"Do you think it worked?" She pondered. He scoffed and looked up at her without moving his head.
"With all that effort I put into it, it better have fucking worked." He complained, his voice muffled as he spoke against her skin. She chuckled and hummed, running her fingers through his long dark hair and gently scratching his scalp.
"Well, if it didn't, at least we got to have some much needed time together." She pointed out with a grin. He dragged his fingertips along her back, tracing the scar that resided in the middle of it. "And if it did, then we have another baby. So it's win-win."
He pulled his head away from her body just enough to stare down at her stomach. He shifted one of his hands from her back and smoothed it along her skin until it rested flat against her navel. With a grin, he looked up into her eyes and pressed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. He pulled away after a quiet moment and a mischievous grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"We should get a babysitter more often."
#naruto#naruto fanfic#naruto shippuden fanfic#naruto smut#naruto shippuden smut#naruto oc#naruto shippuden oc#naruto oc smut#shikamaru#shikamaru nara#nara shikamaru#shikamaru x oc#shikamaru nara x oc#shikamaru x oc smut#shikamaru nara x oc smut#smut#smut writing#shikamaru x reader#shikamaru nara x reader#shikamaru smut#shikamaru nara smut#naruto smut fanfic#naruto oc fanfic#not sfw#my art#my fic#nardo oc#shikayuuna
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The Light of Dead Stars (Series Masterlist) | KSJ
Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon
Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn
Series Warnings: past toxic relationships (emotional/psychological abuse, cheating); “approved” extra-marital relationship (Jin and OC are in an unconventional arranged marriage & this is not an infidelity au but if the perception of it between the MCs is triggering, please skip this one!); foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; mentions of injury and non-serious sickness; fighting, tears, and drama; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Word count: 150k
Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard
Status: Complete
Series summary: Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.
A/N: I came across Dead Stars by Paz Marquez Benitez again recently (a 1925 short story written in English and a classic in Philippine literature), and I was reminded of how I’ve always wanted to capture a fraction of the essence of that story ever since I read it in high school. But I sort of flipped it on its head and came up with this! My hand also slipped so lots of things happen. And given that I finished watching Business Proposal before I started writing and since I have no knowledge of the food production industry or the corporate world in general, several terms and elements were taken from that show (but it’s a completely different story). So please, don’t mind the inaccuracies! Jin has also been a menace 😈 recently so this was incredibly fun and satisfying to write. I hope you enjoy! 🥰🥰
Love–he seemed to have missed it. Or was the love that others told about a mere fabrication of perfervid imagination, an exaggeration of the commonplace, a glorification of insipid monotonies such as made up his love life?
Prologue (2.3k)
Chapter 01 (9.4k)
Chapter 02 (9.7k)
Chapter 03 (9.8k)
Chapter 04 (8k)
Chapter 05 (10.6k)
So all these years–since when?–he had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, yet seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens.
Chapter 06 (12k)
Chapter 07 (9.9k)
Chapter 08 (10.6k)
Chapter 09 (12.3k)
Chapter 10 (12.6k)
Chapter 11 (13.1k)
Chapter 12.1 (9.5k)
Chapter 12.2 (9.8k)
Epilogue (10.5k)
#Extras:TLODS
masterlist
#seokjin fic#seokjin angst#seokjin fluff#seokjin smut#seokjin x reader#arranged marriage au#fake dating au#boss au#workmates au#series#the light of dead stars
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | seven
🐴Chapter summary: Your heart aches and you feel like you see Jimin everywhere you turn, it feels suffocating. When you suddenly get a call from your sister’s doctor saying that she never made it to her appointment, dread fills your bones.
🐴Chapter title: We Got it Wrong
🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc
🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.
🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst
🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
🐴Chapter warnings: car accident and bleeding from a head wound (I’m sorry 😢), OC is just very sad and angry, there’s a lot of angst and stupidity (thanks to the stupid misunderstanding last chapter), lol. It will get better! But not right now 🥲 And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶
🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)
🐴Word count: 9.5k
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “We Got it Wrong” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]
🐴Author’s note: in true ‘McLeod’s Daughters’ style, we open up for all the angst in this chapter! It was tough to write, and it was hard not to cry at the end. It’s more on the sad side, but the sun will shine again— don’t you worry! ☀️
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
Wanna see the book cover?
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“Tears for all the damage
Tears for all the joy
Out in the dark, alone and lost
I’ll try not to destroy
Any more of what we had
Because we got it wrong”
- ‘We Got it Wrong’ by Rebecca Lavelle
Despite the persistent yearning for Jimin that echoes in your heart and mind, the refuge you find in your work with the wild horses becomes a haven for forgetting. In their presence, you master the art of maintaining a clear mind and keeping your emotions in check.
Otherwise, the delicate dance of gaining their trust remains elusive, and your efforts to gentle them might as well be in vain.
But sometimes maintaining a clear mind becomes a challenge, especially when the echoes of Jimin’s laughter reverberate from his house.
A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, catching Yoongi’s attention as he glances your way from his perch on the fence.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Yoongi advises, enveloping you in a comforting sideways hug to emphasize his point.
You pout, your bottom lip jutting out, eyes imploring with a softness, “Easy for you to say.”
You sigh once more, a heavy breath escaping, and a profound sense of deflation washes over you. Is this truly the path your life is destined to take?
“He’ll open up to you in due time,” he reassures, and you can’t help but erupt into a manic chuckle, a blend of frustration and disbelief escaping your lips.
“You can’t be serious. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t uttered a word to me. I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon,” you express with a mix of disbelief and resignation.
Yoongi relents to your sour mood, descending gracefully from the fence with a resigned sigh, his boots meeting the sand with a soft thud.
Putting your lunch away, you gracefully descend, ready to immerse yourself once more in the comforting distraction of work, hoping to reclaim a few precious hours without the weight of Jimin occupying your mind.
As you stroll alongside Yoongi, you make your way back to the stables, anticipation bubbling within you to witness the progress on the chestnut mare he’s been tirelessly dedicating nearly a month to.
The expansive stable beckons, its generous proportions dwarfing yours, illuminated by a pristine, white light that banishes the garish yellow hues of your own barn. The stalls, noticeably more capacious, could easily accommodate two fully grown horses, prompting an eye roll at the absurd fixation on size—typical men.
With a swift yet gentle command, Yoongi effortlessly guides the mare out of her stall, relying solely on his body language and the cadence of his voice, a testament to the unspoken connection he shares with the spirited creature. “Come.”
His ability to command the horse without the need for a halter or rope leaves you in awe, like witnessing a magician performing an extraordinary feat. As he imparts his tricks to you, you’ve ventured to try them yourself with Mikrokosmos, turning the experience into a magical and exhilarating connection between you and the spirited mare.
Yoongi guiding the brown mare alongside you, you exit the expansive stables and make your way back down to the pens, the rhythmic echo of hooves on the stable floor harmonizing with the subtle sounds of nature surrounding you.
Your gaze shifts to Yoongi, a spark of curiosity brightening your eyes, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”
A soft chuckle escapes him as you approach the pen, his hand reaching for the gate, “Holly.”
With the gate ajar, Yoongi ushers Holly into the pen with a deliberate calmness. In the center, she stands like a picture of patience, anticipating his gentle approach.
“That’s a cute name,” you remark, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you savor the sweet sound of the horse’s name.
You gracefully ascend, perching on the fence as if it were your throne, offering an unrivaled view of Yoongi’s equine magic.
“What are you gonna do with Holly today?” You inquire with genuine interest, your eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before you. Yoongi approaches Holly with a gentle touch, his hands navigating the contours of the horse like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, eliciting a contented whinny that adds a musical note to the serene atmosphere.
“I’m going to ride her today,” he declares with unwavering assurance, the timbre of his voice resonating with a mix of competence and excitement. As he applies gentle pressure on Holly’s back, the horse remains still, her tail swaying lazily to ward off an annoying insect.
With a graceful ease, Yoongi begins to mount Holly, his movement akin to an acrobat suspended in mid-air, creating a whimsical and amusing spectacle. He’s not fully astride her yet, more like a playful dance over her back, a sight so unique that it tugs at the corners of your lips, tempting a restrained laugh. It’s a display of horsemanship that you’ve never encountered before, leaving you both entertained and captivated.
Holly maintains her poise as Yoongi gracefully hovers on her back, and then, in a seamless motion, he descends to the sandy ground, his landing executed with a finesse that mirrors the effortless connection he shares with the gentle mare.
He recreates the move, elevating himself further on Holly’s back, until he dangles with his head swaying on the opposite side. Your grin widens, and though you’re tempted to burst into laughter, you restrain yourself, not wanting to disturb Holly’s tranquil demeanor.
He glides down once more, approaches her head, and caresses her with a tender touch. The whole interaction exudes a gentle harmony. Returning to her side, he pulls himself up onto her back, effortlessly swinging his leg over her body, finally settling into a comfortable seat.
You’re tempted to applaud, but you resist, not wanting to startle the horse. Yet, your admiration is palpable. This marks Yoongi’s inaugural ride on Holly, a momentous achievement that leaves you thoroughly impressed!
Yoongi stretches over her withers and strokes her neck affectionately, whispering, “Good girl.”
With a subtle click of his tongue and a gentle nudge of his legs, he guides her into a slow walk around the pen, no saddle, bridle, or halter in sight.
Color you thoroughly impressed.
You watch in silent awe as he maneuvers around the pen, his presence commanding such tranquility that you’re hesitant to disrupt the serene atmosphere by uttering even a breath.
In a breathtaking display, Holly transitions from a slow trot to a graceful canter, and Yoongi remains a steady figure atop her back. His legs maintain a gentle connection with her sides, while his hands rest calmly on her withers. A moment of pure trust unfolds as he releases his grip, extending his arms outward, allowing Holly to dance freely in circles within the pen.
Yoongi embodies the essence of liberation, and a yearning grows within you to share a similar bond of freedom with Mikrokosmos. His infectious smile meets your gaze as Holly releases a resounding snort, prompting a heartfelt chuckle to escape your lips.
Allowing Holly to race freely, Yoongi skillfully guides her by exerting a gentle pull on her withers, coaxing her spirited gallop into a graceful deceleration, transforming the wild rhythm into a serene and controlled stroll.
The distant rumble of an approaching car draws your attention away from the serene scene in the pen, and you reluctantly shift your gaze towards the source. To your dismay, Jimin’s girlfriend arrives, her car pulling up with an elegance that seems to mirror her captivating allure. Ugh. Why does she have to look that good? And why does she look so familiar?
You scrutinize the unfolding scene, watching with a mix of bitterness and resentment as she gracefully emerges from her car. Jimin, despite his limp, crosses the distance to warmly embrace her. The sight sends a surge of conflicting emotions through you – your heart tightens, your blood simmers, and your hands involuntarily clench, the tension palpable as your teeth grind together in silent frustration.
A whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, an uncontrollable storm raging within. The intensity of your feelings is staggering – a deep-seated resentment towards Deiji, a lingering hatred for Jimin himself, yet paradoxically, a persistent love that refuses to fade. The turbulence within you paints an intricate mosaic of conflicting emotions, leaving you helplessly caught in the tumultuous crosscurrents of your heart.
As Jimin leans in to bestow a chaste kiss upon her cheek, bitterness seeps through your veins, staining your soul with an ominous shade of black. Above you, an unseen tempest brews, dark clouds of despair hanging heavily, casting a shadow over your heart.
Time, instead of healing, has only fueled the flames of pain, hurt, anger, and sadness within you. Over two weeks have passed since the last encounter with Jimin and his girlfriend, yet the agony persists, as raw and piercing as if it were yesterday. Rather than easing, the passage of time seems to stoke the embers, transforming your emotions into a relentless storm of fury and jealousy that intensifies with each passing day.
Suppressing the bitterness welling up within, you shift your focus back to Yoongi and Holly. Dwelling on Jimin, the man who once went out of his way for you, retrieving you from the city, proves too agonizing for your fragile heart.
The nagging question persists: why won’t he engage in conversation, fight for you, like he did then?
“.... Mikrokosmos?” You snap back to the present, catching the tail end of Yoongi’s question. Offering him an apologetic look, you realize you’ve been lost in your own thoughts, missing every word he carefully uttered.
You pivot to fully engage with Yoongi, deliberately tuning out the sight of the content couple in the background. “I’m sorry, I got lost in my own world. What were you saying?” you inquire with a sheepish smile, noting that Yoongi has dismounted Holly and is now giving her affectionate pats.
Yoongi draws in a breath before repeating himself, his gaze fixed on you. “I asked if you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”
With a released breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you offer him a nod. Working on Mikrokosmos is exactly what you need. As you descend from the fence, Yoongi swings open the gate, leading Holly to a paddock where she joins the other horses, letting you both focus on the task at hand.
You stride purposefully into the stables, the familiar scent of hay and warm wood enveloping you as you approach Mikrokosmos, peacefully resting in her stall.
You swing open the stall door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet stable. With a warm smile and a voice that echoes genuine affection, you greet Mikrokosmos, “Hi Kosmos.”
Mikrokosmos ambles over, her velvety nose brushing against your outstretched hand, and she playfully nibbles, almost giving it a gentle lick. Your laughter fills the air as you shift to pat her neck. Stepping back, she follows, and you guide her down to the pen. With a practiced motion, you swing the gate open, and as she steps inside, you secure it, sealing the quiet world between you and the rest of the bustling stable.
Perched atop the fence, Yoongi assumes his vantage point, keenly observing your every move with Mikrokosmos, a silent maestro overseeing a harmonious dance between human and horse.
You guide Mikrokosmos around the pen, allowing her to explore the boundaries with curious sniffs and gentle trots. Positioned in the center, your anticipation grows as you await the elusive connection, the ’join up’ that has eluded you thus far. A subtle worry creeps in, questioning if this profound bond will ever materialize between you and the majestic creature.
“Relax and let her come to you,” Yoongi advises from his perch on the fence, a keen awareness of the frustration simmering within you.
Another sigh escapes you, a gentle release that carries your thoughts through your body and spills out through your fingertips. Surrendering to the moment, you embrace the idea that sometimes losing control is the only way to regain it. With a deliberate clearing of your mind and a slow, calming breath, you reassure yourself that everything will indeed be fine.
You surrender to the quietude, closing your eyes as you inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
As you focus on Mikrokosmos with closed eyes, the subtle rustle of something against the fence flares your senses. Internally cursing Yoongi for disrupting your concentration, your heightened hearing captures the gradual crescendo of hoofbeats, a rhythmic melody slowing to a gentle cadence.
The hoofbeats draw nearer, and your heart matches their slow, rhythmic approach. A mysterious sensation caresses your back, creating an anticipation that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.
With a resounding whinny, Mikrokosmos echoes her presence against your back, a triumphant melody of connection. Pride surges through you like a victorious anthem. Overwhelmed with joy, you pivot slowly, locking eyes with your equine companion, and tenderly pat her forehead, sealing the bond that has blossomed between you.
As Mikrokosmos revels in her joined connection with you, a swell of pride, you become aware of Yoongi’s gratified grin. Yet, amidst the shared triumph, your eyes catch another figure— Deiji, leaning casually against the fence, her smile mirroring the prideful moment as an unexpected witness to your accomplishment.
“That was amazing!” Her voice practically squeaks with amazement, prompting an eye roll from you.
She glances between you and Yoongi, her voice carrying a sweet and eager tone as she proposes, “I was wondering if I could assist you with the horses?” Despite her happy demeanor, you can’t quite shake off the underlying discomfort you feel in her presence.
You don’t want her help. Refusing her offer with a swift and almost brusque retort, “No.” The refusal spills from your lips with an unintended edge, its abruptness catching even Yoongi off guard. He arches an eyebrow at your firm response, a smirk playing on his lips as he finds amusement in your conviction.
Undeterred by your rejection, Jimin’s girlfriend gracefully accepts your refusal, her smile unwavering. “Okay. Please let me know if I can help you somehow,” she offers, her kindness contrasting with the tension lingering in the air.
With a hint of sarcasm, you snide at her, the forced smile on your face barely concealing the complex emotions within. You nod in acknowledgement, and as she releases her grip on the fence, she retreats gracefully towards the house, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in the air.
You stand firm in your independence, a resolute desire echoing in your mind — you don’t want assistance, especially not from her.
Yoongi gracefully descends from the fence, his presence blending seamlessly with the rhythmic strokes of your hand against Mikrokosmos, creating a moment where time seems to pause, encapsulating the essence of your shared connection with the wild horses.
“Did you really have to be so rude to her?” Yoongi chuckles beside you, his laughter a dissonant melody to the tension in the air, and you can’t help but mutter a few choice words under your breath, realizing the complexity of your emotions.
You pivot towards him, a tempest of frustration swirling in your gaze. “She is the enemy!”
His laughter persists, revealing the expanse of his gums. You exhale sharply. “I can’t have her clouding my thoughts while I’m trying to find solace in my work.”
He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nah, I get it. You’re just yearning for that Park dick to fill you up,” he teases, winking playfully.
Your face heats up, a crimson blush spreading across your cheeks, and you shoot Yoongi an indignant glare. In a hushed tone, laced with irritation, you hiss, “Yoongi!” — wary not to disturb Mikrokosmos with your sudden outburst.
“Are we going on another epic grocery haul?” you tease with a laugh, watching Ara expertly navigate the car towards town. The anticipation builds as you approach, eager to snatch up all the essentials Jessi has meticulously scribbled down on her ever-growing list.
The town unfolds on the horizon, and a surge of excitement bubbles within you. It’s peculiar how a routine grocery trip can evoke such giddiness. Perhaps it’s the prospect of escaping the looming presence of Jimin and Deiji that adds an unexpected thrill to the mundane task.
So far, you’ve become a master of avoiding the couple. If Jimin harbors no desire for conversation, you find yourself questioning the necessity of extending the courtesy to him or his girlfriend.
Admittedly, you’re toeing the line of childish behavior, but damn it, it’s hard to resist. The complexity of your feelings for Jimin unfolds like a tangled web. While you harbor genuine affection, it feels like your chance slipped away, and he’s unwilling to grant you the opportunity to clarify or even listen. You grasp the sting of being picked last, yet you can’t help but wonder – did you fail to convey your feelings clearly enough for Jimin to comprehend?
Damn it, you wish Yoongi never kissed you. Then this wouldn’t be happening.
In a moment of exasperation, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Despite the internal mandate to banish thoughts of Jimin from your mind, his presence permeates your thoughts once more, defying your attempts at self-control.
Ara skillfully guides the car into a coveted parking spot near the grocery store carts, strategically positioning you for an efficient grocery haul. The convenience of proximity promises a seamless transfer of bags from store to car, sparing you unnecessary hassle in loading up your supplies.
“I’ll go grab a cart,” you declare, pushing the car door handle. Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin follow suit, emerging from the vehicle with shared anticipation for the shopping expedition.
As your fingers inch toward the cart handle, your attention is abruptly drawn to a familiar figure across the street.
Park Jimin.
Jimin and Deiji share a moment across the street, his whispered words causing her to blush and giggle. Even though their conversation is out of earshot, the infectious sound of her laughter echoes in your mind. With a scuff, you finally grasp the handlebar of the cart, but your attention remains fixed on Jimin.
He seems happy, a devilish smile gracing his lips, and you yearn for that happiness to be aimed in your direction. His fingers play through Deiji’s hair in a seductive dance, and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, restraining a moan you presume, ignites a surge of anger within you. Red dots line your vision as Jimin’s hand trails down to the small of her back, and all you can see is an intense shade of red.
“What’s the holdup?” Soo-ah quips from behind, but met with your silence, she traces the direction of your gaze instead.
“Oh no, sweetheart…” she murmurs, her voice tinged with sadness, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. A stifled sniff escapes you, tears threatening at the edge of your waterline.
No, crying is the last thing you want to do now. Hold it in.
Your gaze remains fixated on Jimin’s intimate gestures with Deiji, and a suffocating sensation grips your chest. It’s as if the air has grown thin, and a nauseating wave washes over you, threatening to spill an unsettling mix of emotions.
The other girls gather around you, creating a supportive barrier on either side, momentarily diverting your attention from the magnetic presence of Jimin. Their friendship acts as a shield against the emotional turmoil, offering a brief respite from the intense gravitational pull of Jimin’s figure.
“I just don’t understand,” you mumble, your gaze fixated on the ground, a wave of queasiness washing over you. As you lift your eyes, they inadvertently meet Jimin’s across the road in the parking lot. The irresistible brown orbs lock onto yours, causing your breath to hitch, and your body freezes. His expression is a tumultuous mix of anger and spite, a hurtful glare that pierces through you. A small voice in your mind begins to wonder if this spiteful display is born out of pettiness, and the question lingers – would he truly be so petty?
Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten their grip on the cart’s handlebar. Will this overwhelming ache ever dissipate, or are you destined to carry this horrible feeling forever?
Soo-ah and the rest of the girls guide you away from the cart station, gently urging you into the store. Everything inside becomes a blurry haze. A strange ringing noise echoes in your ears, its origin unclear. Your heart aches with an intensity you’ve never felt, and you start to question if you’re beginning to get sick.
“Can you manage the rest? I’m not feeling well…” Your voice carries a low, deflated tone, and the sensation of your vision spinning intensifies, leaving you dizzy. The unfamiliar feeling bewilders you. The girls nod, concern evident in their eyes, yet they allow you to leave their company.
You navigate your way out of the grocery store at a deliberate pace, locate the car, unlock it, swing the door open, and plop down in the seat. Leaving the door ajar, you take in the fresh air, hoping it might provide some relief.
Exhaling deeply, you sense your heartbeat gradually slowing down, but a nagging question lingers in your mind. Is illness creeping in, or is it the persistent ache in your chest that intensifies every time Jimin comes into view? The unexplained heaviness remains, leaving you searching for answers amid the uneasy beats of your heart.
As the girls return with a brimming cart full of groceries, you muster a wry smile. Once the car is loaded, they encircle you, offering tender hugs that carry warmth and reassurance, their silent promise echoing that, despite the current storm, everything will eventually find its way to calm waters.
You secure the seat belt, and Ha-rin takes the wheel, steering you homeward. Your head finds a resting place against the window, and you gaze out with a distant stare. The scenery, painted in hues of green, blue, and gentle yellows, unfolds like a soothing watercolor, gradually lulling your weary mind into a momentary state of tranquility.
Against the cool window, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, only to find yourself entangled in dreams where deep brown eyes pierce through you with a spiteful glare, carrying the weight of disappointment. Haunted by strands of blonde hair, your heart clenches, and amidst the fragments of slumber, you grapple with the question of how things went so awry between you and Jimin.
Every time you’re working with the wild horses, the world fades away. Jimin’s laughter, and the image of his overly joyful girlfriend, lose their vividness in the company of these majestic creatures. You don’t understand how a person can be so happy, it’s like a mystery you can’t unravel. Maybe it’s because your own mood mirrors the darkness of obsidian, overshadowing any hint of joy.
Perched atop the fence, your gaze follows Yoongi’s skilled hands at work on Holly. Today’s session involves a saddle on her back and a bridle, and you can’t help but marvel at the seamless harmony between them. Holly responds with grace, a testament to Yoongi’s expertise. In this transformative process, she inches closer to the coveted status of a fully trained stock horse, a journey Yoongi confidently assures you she’s on the brink of completing.
Your eyes trace Yoongi’s every move as he guides Holly in a mesmerizing gallop around the pen. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of calm, an unspoken understanding between rider and horse. Holly’s spirit, once untamed, now dances gracefully under Yoongi’s expert guidance, creating a scene that is both captivating and harmonious.
Yoongi’s question slices through your contemplation, catching you off guard like a sudden gust of wind. “Do you want to go for a ride?” His words, a tempting invitation, hang in the air, coaxing you to escape the confines of your thoughts and embrace the freedom that awaits on horseback.
Your eyes widen as his proposition sinks in, but you respond with a subtle nod, your silent agreement carrying the weight of anticipation.
As Holly gradually slows to a trot and then eases into a lazy walk, Yoongi reveals, “This is the final test for Holly.”
With a thoughtful expression, Yoongi shares his plan to test Holly’s adaptability in the wild. Intrigued, he proposes, “Why not venture out and seek the herd of wild horses again?”
It might just be the escape you need from this ranch and its owner, who continues to stir uncomfortable feelings within your now delicate heart.
Jumping off the fence with a renewed sense of purpose, you stride towards the gate. As Yoongi gracefully maneuvers Holly out of the pen, you secure the gate behind you. Your journey continues with determined steps, leading you to where Marshmallow patiently awaits, reins neatly fastened to the fence.
You gently release the reins, your fingers caressing Marshmallow’s neck, eliciting a contented whinny. Placing your foot in the stirrup, you effortlessly swing your leg over his sturdy white frame. The moment you settle into the saddle, a profound sense of belonging washes over you, soothing your restless soul. The inexplicable bond between you and horses never fails to astound you, creating a sanctuary of comfort with every ride.
With a tender smile, your heart lightens, and you delicately urge Marshmallow into a trot by applying subtle pressure with your legs. As you follow Yoongi, the rhythmic beat of hooves creates a symphony that resonates with the newfound tranquility within you.
Embarking on a journey over the rolling hills, the grass beneath remains an enchanting green, bathed in the warmth of lingering summer. A gradual canter carries you through the landscape, your thoughts dissipating, leaving space for the soothing breeze to play with your hair, accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of hooves that mirrors the cadence of your own heart.
Lost in the passage of time, the duration of your ride eludes you, the profound silence between you and Yoongi accentuating the harmony of nature. The mountains, standing proud and towering in the distant horizon, seem to extend warm embraces, enveloping you in a sense of belonging to this picturesque landscape.
As you traverse the landscape, the familiarity of the woods, the serene lake where laughter once echoed with Jessi, and the expansive paddocks that seem to stretch endlessly into the horizon become a poignant backdrop to the rhythm of your horse’s hooves.
The wind tousles your hair, and there’s a fleeting sense that, perhaps, everything is gradually finding its way to being alright.
Lost in the vast expanse, you ride on, the anticipation building within you, wondering if today will be another day the wild horses grace you with their presence. The landscape sprawls before you, an unfamiliar tapestry of nature’s secrets waiting to be unveiled.
As you speak, a soft melancholy smile graces your lips, “I don’t think we’ll see them today, Yoongi.” Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the hope that eluded you, a silent acknowledgment that not everything unfolds as desired—recent events serving as a poignant reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.
“I don’t even know where we are,” you sigh, bringing the horses to a gentle trot. Your gaze sweeps across the expansive landscape, a moment of shared uncertainty between you and Yoongi.
“I know where we are, don’t worry,” Yoongi assures you, confidence lacing his voice as you both come to a full stop before a vast and lush forest.
You release the reins, allowing Marshmallow to lower his head and graze on the lush grass, while Holly follows suit. Holly’s remarkable behavior on this ride surprises you; her wild and untamed nature seamlessly hidden beneath a calm exterior. If it weren’t for her untamed origins, she could easily pass as a seasoned stock horse, blending effortlessly into the peaceful scenery.
While allowing Marshmallow and Holly to graze peacefully, their heads suddenly snap up, ears perked forward in unison, attuned to a sound that hasn’t yet reached your own ears. Then, like a wave crashing over you, the familiar rhythm of hooves pounding against the earth becomes clear – a wild and untamed symphony echoing through the air.
As the herd of wild horses materializes in the distance, a charismatic dark brown stallion commands the front, orchestrating the untamed ballet of freedom. They present a majestic spectacle, embodying the essence of the wild – eyes reflecting untold stories, a blend of soulful wisdom and mischievous spirit. With a profound exhale, you find yourself immersed in a deep appreciation for these creatures and the untamed nature that surrounds you.
Holly stands poised, her gaze locked onto the passing herd, perhaps recognizing the familiar faces of her once-wild family. Despite the untamed energy coursing through the herd, she remains steadfast, mirroring your own stance, both of you immersed in silent observation.
The sight of the wild horses in full gallop is nothing short of breathtaking, and as they surge across the landscape, a surge of emotion tightens your heart in your chest, leaving you captivated by the untamed beauty unfolding before your eyes.
In a hushed and reverent tone, you marvel, “They are so beautiful,” your words barely more than a breath, yet carrying the weight of admiration. A subtle nod from Yoongi acknowledges the shared appreciation of the magnificent spectacle before you.
As your heart swells with longing, a sense of crushing desire envelops you, wishing for the freedom these majestic horses possess—to express your truth and embrace the things you yearn for in life. The ache intensifies, a silent plea echoing in the vast expanse of the open landscape.
Your hands clutch the reins, and a damp sensation draws your attention. Glancing down, you discover small droplets of water clinging to your skin. A subtle sniffle escapes you, and it dawns on you—tears cascade down your cheeks, marking your hands with the tangible evidence of your silent emotional storm.
A constriction tightens your chest, and you draw in a deep breath, hoping to ease the pressure, only to release it in a slow exhale. The rhythm of your breath echoes the emotional turbulence within.
Yoongi’s gaze gently turns in your direction, his expression a silent symphony of understanding. No words escape his lips, yet the warmth of a caring smile lingers, offering a comforting embrace in the quietude between you.
You lift a trembling hand to your face, attempting to quell the rebellious tears that seem to have a life of their own. Your breath quickens, a desperate effort to steady your heart and rein in the tumultuous tide of emotions.
With a tear-streaked face, you turn to Yoongi, your eyes carrying the weight of a profound sadness. “Have you ever loved someone so much, it feels like you’re suffocating?”
Your heart carries the weight of your confession, a mix of both burden and liberation. The unspoken truth finally escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet spaces of your soul. Your feelings for Jimin, profound and unyielding, create a storm within, rendering you incapable of coherent thought, drowning in irrationality and a bitter sea of jealousy.
“Yeah,” he utters with a weighted exhale, the weight of that single syllable hangs thick in the air, a tangible presence in the shared space between you. Compassion wells up within you, not just for him, but for your own tender heart. Silent tears continue their descent, accompanied by a subdued sniffle that punctuates the shared vulnerability in the moment.
“I’m so sorry.”
Grumbling under your breath, you meticulously tend to the veggie garden, methodically extracting weeds and inspecting the plants for any sign of ripe fruit. Kneeling on a plush mat to provide respite for your beleaguered knees, your hands adorned with protective gloves, ensuring that both your hands and fingers remain shielded as you immerse yourself in the nurturing care of the flourishing garden.
Amidst the monotony of this laborious task, you find yourself immersed in the meticulous chore of weeding, the unfortunate bearer of the short straw today. Rows of carrots and potatoes bear witness to your diligent efforts as you navigate through the verdant expanse, determined to extract every intrusive weed that dares encroach upon the fertile soil.
Lost in contemplation, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps stealthily closes in on you, their approach unheard in the sanctuary of your introspective musings.
“Hi, I’m going into town,” your sister’s sudden announcement startles you from your gardening reverie. As you look up, her intent gaze meets yours, a tapestry of confusion woven into your expression.
“Why are you heading into town? Weren’t you supposed to tackle the tax today?” you inquire, your hands continuing their task of pulling stubborn weeds from the soil.
“I have that doctor’s appointment, remember?” Her raised eyebrow prompts a silent scold for forgetting such an important detail.
Panic flickers in your eyes as you abruptly halt your weeding, staring at your sister with genuine concern. “When did you mention the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?” Worry lines crease your forehead, a mix of surprise and anxiety clouding your expression.
With a light chuckle, she tries to alleviate your concerns, “Just a routine checkup, no big deal!” Her laughter carries a reassuring tone, and as she waves, the softness in her expression mirrors the warmth that envelops you.
You return her smile, your gaze lingering as she strolls away toward the yard, where the cars patiently wait.
“See you later,” she calls with a wave. From your perch in the veggie garden, you observe her unlocking the car, slipping into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck. The tail lights illuminate briefly, transitioning to brake lights before shifting to the soft glow of white. Jessi maneuvers in reverse, the wheels crunching on the dirt road as she disappears toward town.
As you return to the arduous task of pulling weeds, you find yourself grappling with the relentless tendrils of frustration, a silent curse escaping your lips like a rebellious whisper. Resigned to the fate of having drawn the shortest straw, you navigate through the sea of stubborn greenery, each tug of resistance echoing the monotony of your predicament.
Beneath the blazing midday sun, gratitude washes over you for the protective refuge of your hat, casting a welcomed shadow upon both your face and neck. Yet, despite this shield, beads of perspiration dance down your forehead, a testament to the unexpected physical rigor of the task at hand. The sheer demand of the job dawns upon you, surpassing your initial expectations.
Anticipating the aftermath, you realize the likelihood of waking up tomorrow with sore arms, an inevitability intensified if you neglect the crucial post-labor ritual of stretching your fatigued muscles.
Emerging victorious from your laborious undertaking, you navigate your way into the kitchen, a sanctuary promising respite in the form of an icy glass of water. As the fridge door swings open, a cascade of cool air envelops your sweat-drenched face, offering a fleeting reprieve before you reluctantly seize the chilled jug. Your quest for relief continues as you reach for an overhead cabinet, extracting a glass that promises salvation. The sensation of the glass against your palms is a prelude to the ecstasy that follows as you pour the water, savoring its frosty embrace. With each indulgent gulp, the frigid liquid becomes a balm, soothing the searing heat that has claimed your body in this relentless weather.
Savoring the rejuvenating coolness, you lean leisurely against the countertop, the glass of water a welcome oasis in your hands. Just as the refreshing liquid begins to work its magic, Soo-ah strides into the kitchen, her expression twisted into a weird frown.
Your discerning gaze sweeps over Soo-ah’s form, a subtle intuition whispering that something is amiss, yet the unspoken question lingers on your lips. Before you can voice your inquiry, she breaks the pregnant silence, her words hanging in the air like a cryptic prelude. “Have you seen Jessi?”
A subtle tremor courses through your being as you dismissively shake your head, “She’s in town for a doctor’s appointment.”
A shadow of concern paints Soo-ah’s features as she deftly retrieves her phone from the depths of her pocket, her eyes flicking to the screen with a mixture of urgency and unease. “How long has she been gone?”
A ripple of disquiet snakes its way through you, fueled by Soo-ah’s restive demeanor. Methodically, you rewind the clock in your mind, tallying the hours since Jessi’s presence graced your sight. “About five hours,” you declare, the admission carrying a weight that coils into an unsettling sense of foreboding.
Weariness etches itself deeper into Soo-ah’s countenance, her features now a canvas painted with both fatigue and concern. Your heartbeat quickens, a subtle but undeniable jolt, as the realization takes hold—this is not merely a cause for concern, but an ominous sign that tightens its grip around your heart, intensifying the ominous gravity of the moment.
A sudden, piercing ring shatters the stillness, and your gaze instinctively darts towards the source—a resonating chime from the landline. The air tightens around you, your heartbeat accelerating into a rapid cadence, each breath shallow and tense. A palpable wave of dread courses down your spine, a cold shiver that heralds an impending revelation. Locking eyes with Soo-ah, both of you stand frozen, caught in the ominous limbo between the echoing ring and the unknown that awaits on the other end of the line.
You should pick it up dammit! A stern scolding echoing in your mind, compelling your body into animated motion that seems detached from your own will. With a sense of urgency, you traverse the space to the countertop, your hand stretching out towards the ringing phone. As your fingertips make contact with the cream-colored plastic, a surge of anxiety courses through them, a prelude to the unknown that awaits on the other end. The plastic yields beneath the pressure of your grip, and in the hushed anticipation, you lift the receiver, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension.
“Hello, Bora Ranch. How can I help you?”
The voice on the other end of the line weaves a narrative that acts like a chilling undertow, dragging your heart into an abyss of despair. Your hand involuntarily tightens around the phone, a desperate grip as if it were your sole connection to a vanishing lifeline.
The voice on the other end, that of the doctor’s receptionist, cuts through the air, delivering news that lands with a disconcerting weight.
“We’re calling to let you know that Jessi missed her appointment today, and we wanted to know if she wants to reschedule another one?”
You then realize that weird feeling you’ve been having— this isn’t good.
A furrow etches itself onto your brow, the cord winding around your other hand as if trying to anchor you in a moment slipping out of your control. “She hasn’t come home yet. Can I get back to you?”
The words hang in the air, delivered with a voice that quivers with a blend of unease and uncertainty, as you begin to grasp what this means.
The receptionist’s agreement is a somber symphony in your ears before bidding goodbye. With a heart weighed down by the gravity of the call, you delicately place the receiver back in its cradle. As your eyes shift back to Soo-ah, her visage mirrors your own unsettled state, her features etched with a shared tension, a palpable reflection of the worry that swirls between you like an unspoken storm.
A thick silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken fears.
Soo-ah, unable to bear the weight any longer, shatters the tension like fragile glass. “Well, what is it?” Her words cut through the quiet, a desperate plea for answers.
You’re afraid.
Dread coils around your words, a vice grip on your throat as you grapple with the weight of unspoken fears. The hesitation lingers, but the urgency pushes you to break the silence. “Jessi never made it to her appointment…”
You observe the subtle transformation in Soo-ah’s face, a haunting dance between anguish and concern.
“Well, where is she then?” Soo-ah demands, her voice betraying an unsteady cadence that mirrors the delicate balance of the unspoken question hanging in the air, as if the answer hinges on your words. Your gaze reflects uncertainty, exhaling a breath heavy with the weight of the unknown.
“I think something bad has happened to her,” your voice wavers, the admission reluctant and laden with a vulnerability that you wish could be erased. The words, heavy with an unwelcome truth, carry the weight of a foreboding certainty that reverberates deep within your bones—an ominous resonance that refuses to be silenced.
Soo-ah, with her once sun-kissed complexion drains of its warmth, now veering into an eerie, almost gray pallor. A whisper of worry taints her words as she utters, “We should call Jungkook.”
With a solemn nod, you reach for your phone, fingers betraying a subtle tremor as you punch in Jungkook’s number. As you raise the phone to your ear, the weight of the impending conversation echoes in the hollow space between each ring.
Holding your breath, time stretches into an agonizing eternity as you strain to listen to each ring, each heartbeat resonating in the charged stillness. The suspense tightens like a coil around your chest until, finally, a tremulous exhale escapes as Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence.
“This is Kook.”
An instant paralysis grips your vocal cords, a sudden constriction that renders your throat a silent battleground, incapable of surrendering even a solitary word.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s inquiry pierces the heavy silence, his voice carrying a note of concern that seems to reverberate through the unspoken void on the other end of the line.
A glacial stillness descends upon you, an icy grip that renders you immobile.
Words, elusive and stubborn, refuse to surface. Soo-ah’s worried gaze lingers on you, but in a decisive sweep, she snatches the phone from your ear, her move cutting through the stasis like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a frozen landscape.
“Hi, it’s Soo-ah. We need your help,” her voice, a steady prelude to the storm brewing beneath the surface, carries the weight of urgency as she unfolds the crucial details. “Jessi left for a doctor’s appointment, but she never made it, and it’s been five hours now. We’re afraid something has happened… Will you help us search for her?”
The murmur of Jungkook’s response on the other end remains elusive to your ears, but Soo-ah, in a breathy exhale that holds a universe of gratitude, utters a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She returns your lifeline– the phone, with a subtle yet meaningful gesture, restoring it to your hands as if passing the torch for the impending journey into the unknown.
“He’ll be here in 10 minutes to pick you up,” she discloses, the gravity of her concern etching deeper creases onto her forehead.
“What are you gonna do then?” The words burst from you, riding the crest of a wave formed by a potent mix of frustration and worry, their resonance echoing in the room.
“I’m going to stay here… In case she comes home,” she reveals, her commitment to a vigil laden with unspoken hope. But then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, “or if the hospital calls.”
The weight of her last admission sends a sinking feeling through your chest, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Understanding settles in, and you offer a solemn nod, bracing yourself for Jungkook’s imminent arrival as the silent countdown to unravel the mystery begins.
Before the sleek silhouette of his black pickup truck materializes, the air is sliced by the cacophony of tires screeching—a desperate symphony of grip and resistance against the unforgiving dirt, an audible testament to the urgency that propels Jungkook towards the yard.
You dash outside, the urgent thud of your footsteps aligning with the accelerating heartbeat of the moment. Jungkook hurtles down the driveway, a kinetic force in his speeding vehicle that screeches to a dramatic halt before you. The window rolls down, revealing a face etched with determination, and he hollers, “Get in.”
Obediently following his command, you seize the door handle, leaping into the truck with a hurried intensity. The door barely has time to shut before Jungkook slams his foot on the accelerator, leaving a swirling cloud of sand in the wake of the roaring vehicle.
Worry etches deep lines into his face, transforming his normally composed features into a tapestry of concern. His lips press into a stern line, and his eyes, laser-sharp, pierce through the windshield, scanning the road ahead. The white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrays a tension that courses through him, turning his knuckles into pale anchors of anxiety.
“What the hell happened?” The words slice through the air, dripping with a demanding tone that carries an undertone of a hiss, a viper’s sharpness in each syllable.
Turning toward him, you admit with a meekness that hangs in the air, “I don’t know.” Your voice, a delicate whisper, contrasts with the clenching of your hands over your pants, while your bottom lip falls victim to the anxious bite of nerves. Fuck.
The weight of hope and fear interlaces in your thoughts—desperately wishing Jessi is safe, yet haunted by the gnawing question of why, if she is, hasn’t she reached out?
Jungkook maneuvers the vehicle like a man possessed, hurtling down the lone road that unravels into town with a velocity that borders on recklessness. This is Jessi’s path, the very route she would undoubtedly have traversed.
Your heart orchestrates a frenzied symphony of worry and fear, its rapid tempo matching the breakneck speed at which Jungkook propels the truck forward.
The uneven terrain jolts beneath the truck’s tires, a relentless assault on the vehicle as it hurtles down these rugged, neglected roads. The coarse reality of the battered path becomes starkly apparent with every bone-rattling bump, each pothole a testament to the less-than-ideal conditions.
“Slow down unless you want us to crash!” You warn him in a stern voice as desperation fuels your words and you clutch the handle at the top of the truck, your knuckles turning white as you seek stability amid the turbulent velocity.
He merely huffs, an audible dismissal that betrays the resilience of his determination. It’s evident that your words struggle to penetrate the thick armor of his focus. However, your own concerns take precedence, and the prospect of a car accident looms like an ominous specter in the midst of your search for Jessi.
“Fucking slow down or let me drive!” The urgency in your yell slices through the truck, a desperate ultimatum that demands immediate action. A tangible flinch from Jungkook, beside you, signals the impact of your words. With a reluctant release, he eases his right foot off the gas pedal, and the once-roaring speed of the vehicle unravels into a gradual deceleration.
“Thank you,” you declare with a furious edge, your gratitude tinged with the lingering urgency of the search.
Jungkook skillfully guides the turn with a precise speed, threading the needle between velocity and caution. As the vehicle emerges from the curve, the truth unravels before your eyes.
A sight that sends your heart plummeting, and an unspoken pact of dread settles between you and Jungkook, a bone-chilling silence that engulfs the interior of the truck.
There it is, the all-too-familiar white pickup truck, an unexpected apparition right before you, nestled on the side of the road. It’s not parked; it’s crumbled against a tree.
Jungkook wrenches his truck to a sudden halt, the engine silenced with a precision that echoes the urgency of the moment. In a flash, he bolts out of the car, a whirlwind of determination propelling him towards the scene. You trail closely in his wake, the echoes of your pounding heart reverberating alongside a disorienting ringing in your ears.
You sprint towards the crumpled wreckage, the front of the car wedged against the unforgiving tree. Panic fuels your frantic search for your sister amidst the twisted metal. Jungkook beats you to the driver’s side, and in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse, you tiptoe over his shoulders.
The chilling reality reveals itself—blood stains the window, and Jessi’s head, eyes closed, rests against it in an unsettling image.
Fuck.
“Jessi!” The desperate cry erupts from deep within you, a primal howl behind Jungkook, and you resort to clawing at his back in a futile attempt to let you pass. However, he remains an immovable barrier, unyielding in his protective stance.
His hand extends, a forceful gesture that wards you off, and his demanding tone slices through the charged air, declaring, “No, let me.”
You cease your futile attempt to scratch through the barrier of Jungkook’s back, relinquishing control to his judgment. Your gaze fixates on the unfolding scene as he seizes the door handle, pounding on the window while the fervent echo of your sister’s name reverberates through the stagnant air.
A leaden weight settles upon your heart, dragging it down to depths unknown, and you slump to the unforgiving ground beside the truck. The haunting question hangs in the air, an unspoken fear clawing at your consciousness—could she be dead?
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a poignant manifestation of your helplessness, as you watch the scene unfold. The overwhelming sense of uselessness engulfs you like a suffocating shroud because Jungkook, with his determined insistence, bars you from contributing to the unfolding crisis.
Jungkook channels every ounce of his strength into wrenching the door handle, a Herculean effort that, to your dismay, yields no success. Undeterred, he pivots, striding purposefully around the car to attack the problem from the passenger’s side. The moment of truth arrives as the door finally acquiesces to his relentless determination, swinging open with a sudden release of pent-up tension. Jungkook, caught off guard by the door’s sudden compliance, is propelled backward, almost airborne, a visceral testament to the raw force he exerted in the pursuit of accessing the vehicle’s interior.
With a determined crawl into the cabin, Jungkook bridges the agonizing gap between hope and despair, finally reaching your sister. The urgency in his voice echoes through the air as he commands, “Call an ambulance!”
You rise from the unforgiving ground, a determined surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With swift precision, you extract your phone, fingers dancing with urgency as you dial those three critical numbers.
“Is she alive?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile whisper that dares not disturb the gravity of the moment. Holding your breath, you await his answer, the air thick with the weight of an impending revelation that could reshape the contours of your reality.
“She’s breathing,” Jungkook exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, a momentary respite from the tension. You approach the driver’s window, eyes fixed on your sister’s form. The sight of her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm becomes a visual anchor, a palpable reassurance that she clings to life.
Well, that’s good.
Cradling the phone to your ear, you navigate the urgent conversation, orchestrating a plea for the ambulance to converge on your dire location. The proximity of the ranch intensifies the raw reality—you aren’t that far away. A sinking feeling grips your heart as you grasp the cruel expanse of time she’s endured out here, alone and injured.
Jungkook delicately prods Jessi’s arm, a gesture pregnant with hope, yet the anticipated response remains elusive—a disheartening void that echoes the uncertainty of the situation.
“I know it looks bad, but we shouldn’t move her. It’s best to wait for the paramedics,” Jungkook utters reluctantly from the passenger’s seat.
You acknowledge the truth in his words, but your gaze lingers on Jessi, a silent witness to the vivid evidence of her injuries—blood seeping from her head. The unsettling unknown looms large, a haunting question mark etched across your thoughts—what other wounds might she be concealing beneath the shadows of her stillness?
The wait for the ambulance unfolds like a nightmarish blur until the air is pierced by the sound of a low voice. Both you and Jungkook pivot, your gazes converging on your sister, a crescendo of fear and anticipation reaching its zenith.
Jessi stirs, her murmurs threading through the air, but the coherence of her words eludes understanding. As her eyes tentatively flutter open, a feeble attempt to articulate follows, yet the utterances emerge as a nonsensical cascade, the syllables twisted into a form of gibberish.
“It’s okay. You’ve been in a car accident, and the ambulance is on its way,” Jungkook reassures, his words a tender balm delivered with a gentle caress on your sister’s cheek. Tears shimmer in his eyes, a raw display of his emotional turmoil, as his calloused fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheekbone.
Her head pivots towards you, eyes finally unveiling an unspoken distance, their luster dimmed. A pang reverberates through your chest as you meet her gaze—her eyes, once vibrant, now bear the weight of an unspoken ordeal. The visceral urge to pull her from the confinements of the wreck claws at your heart. Oh, why can’t you just extract her from this damn car, ensuring her safety and whisking away the haunting uncertainty that clings to the moment?
“It’s going to be okay,” Jungkook utters, his voice quivering with a blend of reassurance and uncertainty that reverberates through the air. His attempt at strength is palpable, yet the vulnerability seeps through the cracks as tears cascade down his face.
Yet amidst the chaos, a fervent hope takes root within you, a beacon amid the storm of uncertainty. A silent plea echoes in the depths of your being, transcending mere optimism, as you yearn—truly, desperately, for everything to unfold in a way that defies the ominous shadows cast by the present.
The wail of the ambulance siren pierces the air, heralding the arrival of salvation, and it swiftly aligns next to Jungkook’s car. A flurry of activity ensues as paramedics spill out, each armed with purposeful bags. Amidst the orchestrated urgency, some of them extract a stretcher from the belly of the ambulance.
Jungkook emerges from the car, gracefully ceding the realm to the paramedics, and approaches your side. His arm envelops your trembling frame, a silent reassurance amidst the tumult. No words pass between you as the paramedics meticulously cut the seatbelt, delicately affix a collar around Jessi’s neck, their movements choreographed in a synchronized ballet of urgency.
Within the orchestrated chaos, a paramedic deploys a machine, its mechanical whir echoing through the night, to pry open the driver’s door. Simultaneously, another paramedic stands sentinel, ensuring Jessi remains securely in place, a guardian against the imminent void that will unfold once the door is relinquished.
The scene is gruesomely vivid, and an involuntary welling of tears clouds your vision as the brutal reality sets in. Leaning into Jungkook’s unwavering presence, you find solace in the haven of his steady frame, though your sniffling breaths betray the emotional maelstrom within. As your tears mingle with his on the fabric of your shirt, a silent communion of shared vulnerability takes root.
With meticulous care, the paramedics lift Jessi from the driver’s side, each movement deliberate and measured as they lay her down on the stretcher. The air hangs heavy with collective breath, your own held in a suspended moment of agonizing anticipation. The constriction in your chest intensifies, a sensation of breathlessness seizing you. Seeking an anchor in the chaos, you find Jungkook’s hand, fingers interlocking in a tight, desperate grip—a physical manifestation of the silent plea echoing within as you navigate the precipice of uncertainty.
“We’ll transport her to the hospital in town. You can follow us if you want,” one of the paramedics offers, their words a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. Gratitude courses through you, and you manage a nod of appreciation, though the knot in your throat constricts your ability to voice your thanks.
Your gaze lingers on the departing ambulance, the doors sealing your sister’s fate within its sterile embrace. A quiet sniffle punctuates the lingering echoes of the departure. When you turn to Jungkook, his face bears the marks of tear-streaked sorrow, a testament to the profound love he harbors for your sister. The depth of his emotions mirrors the tumult within you, both bound by an unspoken yearning for everything to be right—for the fractures to heal and the shadows to dissipate in the face of an uncertain journey that now stretches before you.
The ambulance departs, leaving a gritty trail of dirt in its wake, a visual metaphor for the unsettling uncertainty now etched into your reality. Your gaze lingers on the vacated space it once occupied, a void that echoes the fear reverberating within. The future looms before you, an ominous terrain shrouded in ambiguity, and you grapple with the unrelenting questions that cast shadows on the path ahead.
Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
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#jimin x reader#jimin bts#park jimin#jimin#jimin fanfic#jimin fic#jimin imagine#jimin smut#jimin x you#park jimin imagine#park jimin smut#park jimin x reader#bts jimin#park jimin x you#bts jimin x reader#park jimin imagines#park jimin bts#bts park jimin#pjm x you#pjm smut#pjm x reader#bts pjm#pjm#bts x reader#bts x you#bts fic#bts fanfiction#bts fics#jimin fluff#bts smut
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for everything we are (everything we’ve been)
Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)
Word Count: 9.5k
""Eddie," Buck breathes, almost a sigh as he drops his head, and Eddie can tell he's ready to drop it even if he wants to talk about it because he'll follow him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, leaning closer to Buck, and he glances at him, "I have nowhere else to be, and I know you were just following my lead with this, we can talk about it all if you want," Eddie offers, trying to show him how serious he is about it but Buck just looks skeptical.
"I don't know, man," Buck shakes his head, picking at the label of his beer, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing if it's his place to say it.
"So here's what we're gonna do, the shit we've been through that you keep telling yourself didn't happen to you so you have no right to feel anything about it? You're gonna tell me how you felt about it anyway," Eddie says, turning on his chair so he's facing Buck fully and watching as Buck mirrors his movement, places his beer on the counter, and rubs his thighs before speaking."
or
the entity I've been affectionately calling "the trauma fic <3"
read it on AO3
#911 fic#911 fanfic#buddie#buddie fanfic#writing#otp: you don't need to pretend with me#the trauma fic 🫶#i still have no idea how tag fics#sokaoskaoskoaskoa#anyway shes here#im gonna go do the rewatch set now#the trauma fic verse#911fics
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