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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

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

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if we, like, had sex?”

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

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

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

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The cons? He’s your best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s true though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

“Touch me?”

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

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

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like this?” You rasp.

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

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

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

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

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

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

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

After all, what are best friends for?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know him?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

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

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

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook━!”

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

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

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

Fuck it, you cave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles.

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

But that’s neither here nor there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook…”

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

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

“But you wanna.”

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

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

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So then why does it feel like he is?

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“What?”

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

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

“Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Koo…”

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

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

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

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

“You already have.”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

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

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

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

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” You croak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he wants it all with you.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

13K notes · View notes

bangteamhyuk · 3 years

Text

Seesaw (I)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: NSFW! alot of kissing (torrid, soft, neck, and down under😉), protected sex (you can never go wrong with a rubber on, kids!), oral sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of nipple pierce (pls don’t kill me 😣), mentions of cheating, appears to be pwp but i swear there’s a plot in this..so bear with me please😖, elevator buddies (lol. thanks ggukieland for mentioning this) to eventual lovers. I’m ending this in good terms 😌

Synposis: His outfits are always in black, and if not black then it must be in dark muted tones. You pressed the button on the elevator floor, and positioned yourself at the edge. You watched his back from a distance, and turned away if he moved his head. You were always the one who start your small conversation with him: From “good day” to “good night” to “that’s interesting (whatever it is you find ‘interesting’ from him, even though you were interested in him more than the item)” and other things. You and your little crush to your neighbor who lived on the 18th floor.

Until one rainy night, all drenched and cold, and your eyes smudged all over with kohl, you found him waiting for you inside the elevator. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, his jacket barely settled on his shoulder while holding on to an empty bottle of scotch.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift, pressing the button from the elevator immediately closing its door.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched him attempt to position himself upright in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he replied and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

An idea came up to you suddenly and you asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

A/N: Yoongi have been tormenting me of his visual for weeks and I just have to. Also I owe Producer!Min Yoongi to be happy. :( I hope you’ll enjoy “Seesaw” as much I enjoyed writing it. I decided to make it a mini-series because ideas are just piling up for the two.

And yep, mood song is “Seesaw” by Suga 💖

Word count: 7,190k

“Good morning” you said upon entering the elevator. You walked past him and placed your back on the steel wall for support.

“Good morning” he replied, eyes blinking.

You opened your insulated tumbler to drink your freshly brewed hot coffee you made before leaving your apartment, when you noticed something particularly interesting from the lone stranger you’re with inside the lift. “Nice bean hat” you complimented.

“It’s a gift from my friend” he looks up at the elevator screen, monitoring what floor you two are currently in before it hits the ground floor. “That coffee smells nice, Ethiopian beans?” he turned his head a little to your direction, but wasn’t trying to look back at you particularly.

“No, Tanzania Peaberry” you took a sip and levelled your eyes to the decreasing number before the elevator digital screen until it hit ‘Lobby’. “Well, have a good day!” you smiled at him as you walked past his side. Yoongi let you leave first, like a true gentleman that he is.

It was always the same dry and small conversation. Always the same feeling whenever he is around. Your little crush on the man living on the 18th floor.

——

It started about two months ago when he was running towards the closing elevator, asking for you to wait for him before you could push the close button on the lift. Normally you would mind, and would even subtly push the button hard (about once or twice) so the lift would close quickly before the other person could even enter.

But not this guy, no. The way his eyes looked at you for a second, there was something behind it, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. When he reaches out for the door, you knew from that moment on, it was already over. He finally came in and pushed the ‘close button’ before you.

You were charmed.

“Thank you” he panted, as he tried to catch his breath from running and crouched down on his knees right when the elevator door closed. He was wearing a black oversized hoodie and dark blue fitted jeans and black canvas shoes, but were all dripping wet.

“Didn’t expect the rain too” You pulled out your gym towel from your bag. The one you didn’t get to use because, Matt, the cute guy your friend introduced to you during her wedding day, suddenly sent you a message asking if you had any plans for this afternoon.

Naturally, you cancelled your ‘gym day’ to trade it for one steamy workout session with him inside his car. Which leaves you now with your gym outfit and other stuff perfectly unused, including your towel.

“Here” you handed it over to him, feeling sorry for the situation he was in. Wet and dirty from running outside the street. He turned to you, confused, unsure whether to accept the towel you were offering or not. “Oh don’t worry, that’s a new one. I didn’t get to the gym today so it’s not used, like at all…” you smiled.

“Thanks” he bowed a bit and gently wiped his neck and face as he pushed the 18th floor button. He shook his raven short hair a little to his side and tapped it with the towel, hoping to reduce the water trickling from the ends of his straight hair.

You pushed 17th.

“New here?” you asked.

“Yeah, I just moved two weeks ago” he gently wiped each side of his cheek for warmth.

“Has anyone ever welcomed you here?” you took a quick glance at him and furrowed your eyebrows then retracted “Well, besides the management and the security guard?” you snickered, eyes still fixed at the elevator buttons and its screen.

He chuckled at your query “No, unfortunately.”

“Bummer. Well, let that towel be the ‘first welcome gift’ then. From a neighbor” You shrugged then turned to face him and smiled.

The elevator bell rang, ‘17th floor’. You put your feet forward near the elevator door, arguing in your head whether you should ask his name or not. Usually, you don’t ask strangers for their name, especially the ones you just met. You barely knew anyone in this building, except your next-door neighbor who frequently complained about the noises you make at night.

And It’s not like he owes you anything either, so you didn’t expect that he’ll do it so casually… and yet here you are, hoping.

At least, maybe he could ask you a thing or two about you and say ‘thanks’ one more time? That’s just wishful thinking though. You suddenly remember that you did mention the towel was a gift, despite not bothering to ask if he wants it or not.

You began to worry even more, and wanted to ask if he really wants to even keep it. So, you turned around to meet him the eye and “Ah w—”

“Thank you, neighbor” he smiled and held the towel to his ear. The elevator door closes before you, stunned to see him smile. Yes, that damn smile. The kind where you forget where you live for a second, and you just nod. Leaving him behind.

“What’s your name?” you asked no one, and sighed. “Whatever… you’re welcome, neighbor” you turned away from the closed door in frustration and walked along the hallway.

——

Boys are like games. You liked it when they made you scheme so that they could find you interesting, and then trap them once they took the bait. And leave when it becomes dull.

Every so often, you try to lure in guys that interest you so that you could spend about a week or two with them, to fill in the gaps of your own boredom. You despised monotony, the way you hated commitments.

Though you were not always like this before, you once believed in ‘true love’ and ‘fairytales’, until you’ve had your heart broken a few times (mostly due to one-sided love) and then that was it. You’ve had enough. Back then, you were still young and naïve, thinking men will come and save you from this cruel world. You’ve seen it in movies, tv dramas and heard countless songs play about it on the radio, you were hopeful.

Yet no one came to save you, not even one. You came to realize that only you could save yourself from making your life any more tragic. Men are never the key to happiness. Love is not the formula in living a good life.

You looked at your own reflection and marveled at the beauty you created for yourself. And that was the thing, you saved yourself way too perfectly that you just don’t believe in love anymore. And out of nowhere, men were starting to line up.

Not like the teen romance kind of stuff, where they literally line up for you because you started to look like Gal Gadot overnight. More like, you don’t seem to care whether you get asked out or not, either way, men like you because you are a challenge. And who doesn’t like a challenge?

Because men are dying to see one day, that all the walls you’ve built for yourself would fall for them. They wanted to see a damsel in distress behind that wall.

Because men always like their ego stroke, and they always want to have the bigger prize. Unfortunately for everybody, it’s not Princess Peach who they want to save on top of a tower, they just want the game. That’s it, they want to see whether you’d fall for them or not. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s why you never let it. You refused to get too personal and you renounced commitments. You’re too proud.

Because for you, commitments are the epitome of prison. For you, commitments are just a disguise for convenience. In the same manner, convenience is a sugar-coated word for validation, caramelized to perfection.

And for whose validation? For men? Maybe then, they could make you do their laundry, cook them food, satisfy their lustful desires? Are those really an act of love or selfish desire to make their lives easy? Clearly, your choice to keep yourself free from commitments isn’t an act of rebellion against sexims and double standards. It’s actually letting yourself be free from nuisance, which is what they call “love”.

That is why you remain in your stance, that you want men for your own pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. That you want to see them admire you, kneel if they must, before you. Cry desperately for your touch. Because you’re not giving any, not until a man who thinks the same way as you do, the ones who are smart enough to knock on your door and present to you his pure intentions.

Evidently, that’s impossible, with the way men are in this god-forsaken city? The closest thing you could ever meet to a perfect man is the cardboard stand of Park Seojun, smiling at the entrance of a restaurant beside you right now.

You pat the fabric from your dress, after looking at your reflection from the glass window. Joe, your officemate, from the Design Department, finally asked you out for a ‘little dinner nearby’.

“Y/N, you sure you want to eat here? We can go to some place fancier” he asked while he folded his long sleeves.

“Two seats please” you ignored his query as you grinned over the lady who took on the customer cue. She rolled her eyes upon seeing you again with another man.

Joe went to you close and whispered “Do you have any beef with the lady?”.

“Nah, we’re good. It’s her term of endearment for saying ‘welcoming back’. I’m a regular customer here” you winked at her “so I’m sure she’s delighted to see me every time” she groaned in annoyance and let you in. She remained polite by guiding you both to an empty table.

——

Obviously that’s a lie, because next thing you knew, you were already making out with Joe inside his car, barely reaching his apartment.

“Mmm” you shifted to his seat, knees in between his legs, as he unzips your dress on your back. You helped him pull the fabric down from your shoulder, exposing your lacy lingerie, exclusive for this occasion.

“Can’t you wait until we get into my place?” he parted, panting, leaving him breathless after that torrid kiss.

“I just wanted to give you a little preview with what I can do” you smirked, as you began to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “Will get there, don’t worry” you gently bit his ear lobe which made him groan in pleasure. Until, someone came knocking on his window. Joe moved from his seat to see who it was.

“Lara!” he immediately stopped and pushed you away.

“Lara?” you turned to face where he was looking, and to your horror, you saw Lara. Lara, your officemate and your best friend. Lara, who perfectly knew your history and the list of men you slept with. Lara, who stood by you even after office hours and saved your ass multiple times from your mercurial boss.

You didn’t have any slightest clue she was seeing this Joe from the Design department, yet you feel like you’ve done something terribly wrong.

You quickly pulled your clothes up, while Joe immediately left you in the car to talk to Lara.

“I can explain,” he pleaded, shutting the car door hard.

“I don’t need it” Lara shook her head and took a step back.

You pulled down the headboard mirror to fix your hair and lipstick for a moment and let the two do the talking first. You listened to them argue, rather faintly from the inside of his car while you tried to put on your heels.

After you gently pat your lips with your finger, you finally decided to leave the car and went to Lara so you could take on her side and put more misery over Joe, the canker cheater. Besides, isn’t it Joe’s fault that you are all in this muddling position?

“I always knew I shouldn’t be friends with a slut like you!” she spat a disgusted look on you.

Your mouth went agape, bewildered at her reaction “Excuse me? I didn’t know Joe’s seeing you”. You were expecting that above all, she would understand the current situation, that it was Joe and not you who started out all this mess. Why does it feel like you’ve put gas in to the fire? When the one who deserves all these words is Joe.

“So, is it my fault now? That I didn’t tell you I’m seeing Joe?!” she scoffed and folded her arms. Now she’s starting to piss you off too.

“Because I don’t know Lara? We’re best friends? We’re not supposed to hide secrets?” you gave her a sardonic smile, which peeved her even more.

“Of course I should, the way you sleep with everyone’s boyfriend without being sorry? I definitely think I should” she bit at you, barely quivering from the words she chose against you. You must admit, that definitely hurt. Not the words she chose, not the way she barely quivered, but because it came out from someone you trust.

Lara, was the least person you thought who could inflict a burn to your already-distorted ego.

You sighed, forestalling the tears that were slowly looming around your eyes “Right, well at least I learned something about you tonight. Have a great night with Joe, I hope you two sort out things…” you pulled your bag from your shoulder and walked away but then you remember something.

You wanted to slap Joe in the face so bad right now, that the only thing that’s stopping you is the idea of an eventual ‘Physical Harm Outside Office’ complaint against you from the HR Department, well if you were careless enough to actually do it.

“There’s a thong hidden underneath your seat, which isn’t mine by the way. I only wear Kiki De Montparnasse, don’t I Lara? Well, those are Victoria’s. You know I dislike Victoria’s ” you declared, before leaving, not turning your head to face them one last time.

“We’re over Joe!” Lara screeched, as Joe pleaded even more, their voices turning inaudible as you moved farther away.

Of course, that was a lie. There were no thongs left inside Joe’s car. Just the friendship you lost with Lara. And you wanted to retaliate hard, to put everything on equal footing. Except, it didn’t feel that way, because Joe took something away from you forever: Trust.

——

Someone knocked from Yoongi’s studio. “Excuse me sir, but Mr. Park and his fiancé are waiting for you at the lounge area?” one of the staff asked, sticking her head out from the door.

“Right, tell them I’ll be there in sec!” he pushed a few buttons on his keyboard and then left his seat to meet his visitors.

“Hyung!” Jimin stood up from his seat to meet him, together with his fiancé… Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend.

“Hey there kid!” Yoongi went to give Jimin a brief hug, and gestured to them to return to their seats. “Hey there” he nodded and smiled weakly to his ex, not that he’s sour or hostile towards her, but he was just in a tight position seeing the two of them together in one room.

“Hyung, I’ve been really meaning to ask you, but I know it’s pretty awkward considering the two of you well, you were once, you know” he scratched the back of his neck, trying to find proper words but decided to continue anyway “together… and I know this is sudden too, but we reserved a seat for you on our wedding day tomorrow, and hopefully as one of my groomsmen…”

Be there on their wedding day? Tomorrow? As one of his groomsmen? Is this a joke? He was baffled for a moment, but his face remained stoic. “I can’t. I’m sorry…” he nodded coolly.

Yoongi saw how she quickly held on to Jimin’s hand tight, to give Jimin comfort from the rejection they expected from him.

“We understand” Jimin breathed and faced the ground.

“It’s not like that” Yoongi lied. “You know that contract I just had for a soft drink commercial? Well apparently they wanted a full revision on the song, so I just had to finish it before the weekends”

“Oh” Jimin smiled shyly “that’s unfortunate…”

Yoongi turned to face his ex, who knew him fluently. He gulped and smiled weakly, hoping the message would come across to ‘Not tell Jimin’. She nodded, fully understanding what Yoongi had in mind.

He wanted to save everybody (especially her family who knew him for years, and their common friends who’ll come by) to see an uncomfortable scene on their special occasion: An ex on a wedding day.

Hours passed, and Yoongi politely offered to see them leave the office building while bidding them good luck for tomorrow.

“Excuse me, I just need to get this” Jimin took his phone to his ears and left them to receive the call from his manager. “Yeah, they’re there? All areas secured? Yeah, thank you. Hopefully, we can avoid paparazzi and obsessive fans at the wedding venue tomorrow…” Yoongi heard him say, his voice turning faint as he walked far.

“Yoongi” she quickly but subtly held his hand “Just say it…” she shut her eyes and pleaded him.

Yoongi knew what she meant, and even if he still feels something for her, he had to do it. “Don’t do this… I know it’s probably just wedding jitters, and maybe we really haven’t had a proper closure when we broke up, but Jimin is a good guy. He’s better. Please, be with him” he said softly, resisting to meet her eyes.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you that night, I should have stuck out to you then, and understand you, I really lo—“ she started to talk fast, while her eyes glistened.

“Stop” Yoongi, moved back, pulling his own hand away from her. “You made the right decision, and I also made mine. Everything falls perfectly, where it should be” Yoongi bit his lip, maddened to hear her regret. For what? What good does it make to agree with her and run? To destroy a relationship right before their wedding day? He’s not dumb to take the bait.

After years of being left behind, years of putting him in the dark after she left, years of hoping that the two of them can get back together. Only to find later, by chance, that she was already dating his colleague, Jimin. “Stop!” he repeated, taking another step away from her.

Jimin ran back to her side, clueless of what just happened between her and Yoongi. “I’m sleepy, love” she yawned, trying to mask her teary eyes that started when she pleaded Yoongi to take her back.

Yoongi nodded “I’m sure you two are tired from all the planning. I really appreciate you two for visiting. Take care! I need to get back to the studio, client’s calling too!`` He quickly turned away and left, digging his hand in his pockets to hide his shaking palms. The thought of almost agreeing to take her back, right on the night before their wedding, sends shivers down his spine.

He needed a drink.

——

You fumbled on your wallet and realized that you left your transportation card on the office desk. Honestly, you thought you wouldn’t need it when Joe offered to drive you home. “Please, at least a change, at least a change…” you mumbled it like a mantra, praying something helpful would appear, but didn’t.

Even when you dug deeper in your bag, there was no spare change in sight, only your credit card. You didn’t expect the night to turn out so bad. Even worse, it was starting to rain. It didn’t have an umbrella either.

You paused in the middle of the street to cry, not being able to comprehend the series of unfortunate events. You watched the rain flushed down your makeup from a convex mirror hanging on a pole. Your eyes were starting to look like raccoons. Your favorite dress is already drenched and filthy from street dust and smoke. Yet you remained walking, hoping that if you continued to raise your hand every so often, a taxi would come by and let you in.

But even after an hour, no one bothered to let a rain-drenched woman into their dry and pristine car. Until it took you long enough to arrive at your apartment lobby, and you sighed in relief. You shook your head when the security wanted to ask what happened, and declined when the service staff offered you a seat to wait on the couch and bring you a towel. You just wanted to get to your home quickly.

And there he was, inside the elevator, your little crush who lives on the 18th floor.

You saw him drink the last drop from his bottle before he pressed a button, when his eyes widened upon seeing you in a poor state. You walked towards him.

In an attempt to look sober in front of a stranger, Yoongi fixed his posture and quickly pressed the ‘open door button’ and waited for you inside.

“Rough night?” he asked while you moved to the other side of the lift and watched you press the ‘close button’ from the elevator, immediately closing its door. His body fell almost instantly on the slight movement of the lift that shifted towards the upper floors. His body slacked on the edge, hair unkempt, and his dark denim jacket barely settled on his shoulder while he held onto his empty bottle of scotch.

“Yeah, seems you had one too?” you watched his attempt to reposition himself again upright, in amusement.

He drank from the empty bottle before he could reply and realized straightaway that it’s been drained.

“I uh” he gulped “I met my ex a while ago, and she pleaded with me to take her back right before her wedding day” he drunkenly confessed, and giggled to hear himself say it.

“That’s rough buddy…” you folded your arms and watched the elevator screen, as usual.

“What’s your sob story?” he asked, blinking as he tried to mask his insobriety.

“Oh this?” you momentarily look at your drenched clothes. “Well I found out the guy I was out with, ‘double-dipping’ me and my best friend”

“That’s even tougher” he chuckled as he peered on to his empty bottle, wishing that a drop would magically appear out of nowhere.

“I think we’re even” you watched him silently, trying hard not to laugh to see him in his drunken state, until an idea suddenly came up. You asked: “I have more of that in my place. Wanna come over?”

——

The moment you two stepped out of the elevator, you found your bodies pressed together.

Lips knotted on each other, wet and tacky. You moved back while he pressed you forward along the hallway. He then moved to force you up against a wall, pressing himself to you even harder.

Yoongi didn’t waste a minute and pushed his tongue in between your lips, and you reciprocated. You roughly brushed your hand towards his hair, and pulled him even closer to you and deepened your kiss. Whatever it is you two were doing.

He parted and pressed kisses on your throat, his fingers reaching down to your waist and clutched your bottoms.

It was so sudden, so fluid, that you almost forgot that you were still outside from your place.

“Oh, bless you two!” your 60 year old next-door neighbor cried, who just went out of her door. Fidgeting while she tried to close it and ran towards the empty elevator.

“I’m definitely going to receive a house complaint from the management tomorrow” you chuckled. You parted for a moment, and stopped by your apartment door. You quickly entered your password on your lock screen, while he continued to press kisses on your neck. You didn’t mind if he saw it, since you were pretty sure he’s too intoxicated to remember every number.

Upon entering your door, he quickly discarded his jacket and left it on the floor, he kicked the door close. You didn’t dare break the proximity between you and him, even if it bears as a challenge to move back while taking off your shoes from the threshold, and still manage to wrestle with his tongue.

He cut the kiss briefly to remove his own shoes, but quickly as a fox. Like a clockwork, he continued where he left, back to hungrily pursuing your lips. You parted and watched your lower lip leave gradually from his soft bite. You smiled at him and began to trace kisses on his neck.

He closed his eyes and revelled from your touch. He then carried you over to your bare dinner table and hurriedly pulled your dress up, exposing your lacy underwear, while you helped him pull his shirt off exposing his pale chest. You pinched your lip, stared at him for a moment, all pleased to see him bare.

“What?” he nervously asked.

“Just thinking how I’ve always fancied seeing my neighbor naked come to a reality” you tilt your head, while your eyes remain focused on his chest.

“What a coincidence, I was thinking the same” he finally realized that you had a zipper on the back and pulled it down a bit.

“Careful, this one’s from Lanvin” you alerted him. He obediently followed and carefully pulled it down your waist. You gently pushed it away and threw it on the carpet.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you had your dress in Versace?” you laughed at his remark.

“Oh, so you could sing that Bruno Mars song? Kinky”

He chuckled at your retort. You then realized how charming he looks up close, his gums flashed before you as he grinned.

“Uhuh…” and just like that he swiftly changed from cute charming to a seductive one, as he shifted his position and watched you react to his finger pressed beneath your cloth that was keeping a barrier between your skin down below and his fingertips. “You’re wet”

You breathed at the sensation and nodded “You know for a neighbor, you are pretty friendly. Yet I never get to know your name” you whispered in his ears and unbuckled his belt. You help him pull down his pants from your seat.

He smiled, seeing you fairly repay his effort by finding your hands gently brushing his length beneath the fabric of his underwear.

“Yoongi” he replied, a bit groaning. You felt his flaccid length grow stiff at your touch.

You turn to look at it, then his eyes “Y/N” you smiled as you pulled it down and began stroking it bare. Nice and slow.

“Nice to meet you… God… that’s it” he shut his eyes and breathed, as he unclasped your bra and began cupping your breasts.

“Nice to meet you too Yoongi…” he opened his eyes, his right hand shifted to lick his fingertip and stick it between your lacy fabric down to your nub, brushing it quickly yet soft.

“That’s… yes…” you shut your eyes at the sudden contact. You were sensitive. “You know we are 3 steps away from my bedroom, why don’t we continue from there?” you gave him a peck on his lips and pulled his hand away from you. You jumped out from the table and waited for him to follow you to your bedroom door.

He just stood for a while and watched you slip your panty down, he gulped at the sight and immediately followed.

——

“Yoongi!” your toes curled, as he pulled you even closer to him. You heard him growl a little underneath you. His hands under your butt cheeks, caressing it gently while he sticks his tongue out for a taste. Seeing stars was underrated, if you must describe how wonderful his tongue techniques were when you are receiving him.

“Yeah, that’s pretty” He parted and licked what’s left of you on his lip while watching you shiver beneath him, slowly coming undone. You lost count how much you orgasm with his tongue alone. He then pushed two fingers in you and slowly stroked it in and out, and watched you unfold for the nth time to his touch.

God, you almost forgot that he’s been pleasing you for almost an hour that you forgot to return the favor. “Yoongi, stop… lie down” you gently pushed him to the side, letting him relax on his back, and began rubbing his length.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I want in” he stopped you before your mouth received him.

“Right now? You sure?” you asked, as he chuckled at the query.

“I’m fully erect, Y/N. What’s there to be unsure of? Lie down…” he commanded, and you gladly obliged.

“The condom is on the bed side table, first drawer on the left.” You pointed. He opened the drawer, and found one. He gently opened the golden foil as you helped him pull the rubber out and placed it on him.

He moaned to the cool sensation “Mmm…” he placed both your ankles on each side of his shoulder as he slowly moved inside of you.

You shut your eyes and opened your mouth wide, surprised to feel something fairly sizable and immense. He rests for a second, letting you adjust to him.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m tough, and I like it rough” you panted.

He chuckled momentarily, but his face turned earnest when he began to thrust inside of you slowly. From a steady placid pace, it gradually accelerated, penetrating deeper into you as he moved further. He wasn’t just hitting your sweet spot, he was unearthing everything within you. To say you’re pleased is an understatement, he definitely did more than that. “God!” he started to move fast to an inconsistent pace and finally came.

You followed.

He pulled out, and rested on your chest.

You gulped and found your throat dry from all that just happened “Want something to drink?” you sat on your side of the bed.

“No more scotch, just water. Know what? Fuck it” he pulled you back to the bed. Swiftly changed his soiled rubber to a new one. He took another condom from your bed side table and immediately entered back into you.

Turns out, the night ended unexpectedly great.

——

🎵 Love me special… love me special… love me special🎵

Your alarm resonated all over your apartment. “Alexa, stop” you commanded, as you shift from your bed and was surprised to see a motionless body you don’t recognize on the other side of your bed.

You slapped your forehead upon realizing who it was on the other end. Your little neighbor crush, now with a name: Yoongi. The song continued to play, stirring the stranger from his sleep “Nngh” he lazily scratched his neck in annoyance.

“Alexa, stop the alarm!” you exclaimed, blinking at the thought of rousing him further from his slumber. You didn’t want the idea of little chit-chats on the morning after sex. You disliked being demanded to answer questions like “how did I get here?” or “was sex good?”and etc., conversation like those are a total drag.

Regardless who it was, whether it was one night stand or a regular fuck buddy. You wanted to casually forget it by the day, then crave for it during the night. It is how you put up with stress from your work. You separate your professional life to your personal life, that’s how you endure having to face bullshit for years.

He turned around to see you put your clothes back. “Oh shit” he shut his eyes the moment his memories stirred him from his stupor.

“Morning. Look, I’ll go ahead? I’ll be late for work. You can stay as long as you like… but not too long… Whatever, just, don’t forget to take all your things on the way. I know where you live so don’t do anything funny” you put on your bra and underwear then quickly move to your open rack to take your satin robe with you to your bathroom.

“Wine” he sluggishly replied.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, you peered from the wall separating the bedroom and the baths.

“You were playing ‘Wine’. I made that.” He snickered lazily.

“Made what? Wine, this song?” you pointed to your speaker “It’s sung by a girl named Suran? Wait, are you still drunk? I have Tylenol inside the drawer– ” he smiled at the thought of you being kind and considerate. He then shook his head.

“No, I meant I produced that. I’m glad you like it enough to make it your alarm” he pulled down the duvet, exposing his bare chest. He sat up, but the brightness from your window made Yoongi squint his eyes.

“What are the odds” you chuckled, but only for a while, because when you took your phone and typed in the song on your search bar you found his name, well his other name that is.

“Suga? Are you Suga? Who named you that?” you smiled, as you turned away from him towards your shower but stopped midway.

“You produced a song for Jimin?! THE Park Jimin? the famous idol? The one who won KMA, MAMA, and Daesang… you made those songs?” you swiped further and saw a ‘breaking news’. You narrated it out loud “Look, you know about this? ‘Park Jimin just married his long time non-celebrity girlfriend’…” then paused. You remember the conversation you had with him last night, suddenly grasping and putting things together “Shit, she’s the ex, isn’t it?” you went back to face him, waiting for his response.

“Yeah” Yoongi sat up, eyes still listless. “Isn’t it Dispatch worthy?” he asked sarcastically.

“No,” you replied dryly. “You know what is?” you rested your arm on the doorway from your bathroom and watched him react “Park Jimin, has a piercing on his left nipple. That’s why you never see him wear a fitted shirt” you raised one of your eyebrows and smiled.

His eyes, which looked formerly lethargic, became wide and lively.

“Wait, what? How? When?” he opened his mouth in shock.

“He was still a rookie then I guess? Anyway it’s been years… and was very single at that… He loves that left nipple a lot, you know? That he came by too soon. He wasn’t that great to be honest, you were better, well more than better to be precise… and I guess that’s what made your ex regret her life decisions?” you shrugged as you watched him laugh hard at your remark. “So don’t be too bummed, okay? You were definitely better, and you deserve the best out there” you smiled and left him there on your bed.

“Thanks” he spoke softly as he watched you close the bathroom door.

That was the very first time you talked with someone you slept with, the morning after. And the funny thing is, you never regret doing so.

——

You didn’t want to come, but you have to, it was such a horrible position to be sitting beside your now ex-best friend while you two try to remain professional at work.

It was the first time you weren’t left with a sticky note with a smiling face, nor placed a freshly brewed coffee for her, first thing in the morning on her desk. You were both working fine, but the relationship was beyond repair.

That night after work, you found Yoongi waiting in line to get a cup of java in one of your favorite cafes.

“Hey neighbor” he smiled. “Fancy meeting you here?”

“Well I was on the way home. Then I saw you. Have you eaten dinner?” you asked, you went beside him on the line.

“Is that an invitation or are you asking me out?” he squinted his eyes towards you, as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s the former. I thought it’s around dinner time by now, maybe we could share a meal? There’s a promo on one of the restaurants nearby…” you took your phone out to show him a copy of an electronic voucher they were giving for free online.

“Sure, I like promotions. The ones that don't require me to shell out a lot” he remained stoic, despite genuinely liking the idea of cutting regular priced foods.

“Exactly” you winked at him.

——

You brought him to a BBQ place, and saw him turn ecstatic to see them actually serving Kobe Wagyu Beef.

“I must admit, you know the perfect places to eat” he affirmed.

“Of course, I’m very particular in choosing my meat” you stared at him for a second, as he watched you chew a piece, your eyes still fixated on him. He gulped.

“Wanna come over to my place, after?” he asked.

——

UPDATE: Chapter 2 is HERE!

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universallywriting · 4 years

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Angry Steven Essay 1 - Ignoring Your Kids and the Consequences

A lot of people have been wondering why Steven is so angry, and where their sweet baby boy has gone, and I think people are struggling because they don’t understand how little they respected Steven before.

Because I don’t think that Steven has undergone a huge character shift. Admittedly, he’s angry more frequently now, but I don’t think his anger is bigger or more intense or any worse than it’s been at other points in the series. Steven’s feelings haven’t gotten bigger…

But Steven has.

I counted up all the times Steven gets angry in the series, being fairly charitable and not counting more minor moments of annoyance of frustration. I’ve got about 21 moments out of 160 episodes for the original series. Granted, that’s only once every seven episodes, but it’s not insignificant. The idea that Steven never gets angry is factually wrong.

We see his temper the first time in Steven the Swordfighter, and it’s not a very wholesome look at the boy. He’s frustrated because Pearl is gone and Holo-Pearl isn’t a good replacement. And, already, I bet you’re starting to tune out a little. Because Steven’s being a stupid little kid, isn’t he? Pearl’s coming back. He’s just throwing a tantrum.

Tantrum is the word we give to anger and sadness we don’t respect. It’s a word we use to belittle and ignore children, even when their feelings are justified.

We see something similar in Rose’s Room. He screams at the gems because they ruin the ending of his video game. And, sure that’s a bummer Steven, but it’s just a game. There’s a big space opera out there, so why are you so worried about this? And yeah, you got mad that Greg lied to you in House Guest, but he just wanted to spend time with you. It’s a cute father/son moment, really. Steven is angry, sure, but it’s just kind of pitiful, isn’t it? Poor silly kid. He’s wrapped up in his little concerns when the world is so big and scary.

But you were on his side in Warp Tour. Because he’s right this time, so it’s not a tantrum. And you’re mad at the gems because they’re treating it as a tantrum. But here’s the thing - the gems should never treat him this way. Because so far? Every single one of Steven’s fears and struggles are valid and worthy of respect. Steven isn’t pitching a fit because they brought him a scarlet firetruck and he wanted a cherry firetruck. He’s hurt. That deserves respect and attention and apologies.

In Steven the Swordfighter, he’s struggling because one of his guardians is really hurt. Not only that, but she’s hurt in a way that she can’t talk to him, can’t let him know it’s going to be okay, and in her place is the thing that hurt her. You’ll also note that Amethyst and Garnet are conspicuously absent during all of this, because apparently the boy doesn’t need comfort and care after watching Bird Mom get wasted and spending days hovering over her unhatched egg. Steven is going through all this grief and fear alone.

In Rose’s Room, Steven is denied his chance to spend time with the gems after they promised. They don’t respect or value Steven’s time. Why would they? He’s a child. And clearly he proves his time is worthless by putting so much value in his silly video game he interrupted. What’s the ending of your stupid golf game matter when the plot it rolling along, Steven? Big, important adult things are here. Drop what you’re doing. Ignore your interests. What the gems are doing is more valuable than what you’re doing every single time.

This is a general trend. Warp Tour is the perfect encapsulation of the problem, because it’s finally important enough that Steven fights to be heard. The first thing to remember about this episode is that we, the audience, are placed on Steven’s side because we’ve seen what Steven has seen. We know he’s right. The gems, however, believe what Steven is saying to be impossible. From their perspective, Steven is saying that a masked man broke down their door last night. Be honest - if you knew a kid making that claim and the door was fine, are you going to take it seriously?

The problem in Warp Tour is not that the gems don’t believe him. It’s reasonable not to. The problem is the way they react to it. Amethyst groans and complains about how long it’s taking to make Steven feel better, making him feel like a burden. Pearl aggressively confronts him with evidence, treating him like they’re in a debate and he needs to be proven wrong. That makes him feel stupid, belittled and ignored. Garnet says that it’s important to make Steven feel secure, but even that is condescending and quietly insists that Steven is being irrational.

Even at the end, Garnet is the only one who even slightly makes amends, saying she should have listened to him while also not apologizing. Pearl and Amethyst don’t make amends at all. But do you know who does say sorry four times? Steven. Steven has been taught and continues to be taught that his feelings are secondary. The things in his life that are important aren’t really important compared to the serious grown up issues.

The lack of apologies are consistent. In Keystone Motel, Ruby and Sapphire realize Steven is upset and make up with each other, but don’t make up with Steven. Don’t apologize to Steven. In Maximum Capacity, Amethyst never apologizes to Steven for shapeshifting into his dead mom. (Which, always and forever - What the hell, Ame?)

The gems brushed off these feelings and due to that, I think a lot of the audience did too. But the gems do occasionally ask Steven what’s wrong, and he shuts them down.

So why does he do that? Why doesn’t he work it out? Because they spent his entire life ignoring his problems, disregarding his fears, not knowing what’s important to him. I’ve seen a lot of talk about Gemcation and how the stuff with Connie was Steven repressing his trauma over space and… no. It’s not. It’s really, really not. It’s yet another example of how the gems (and the fandom) ignore the things that matter to Steven in favor of what they think he should care about, and it comes down to this one extremely painful moment.

Garnet: Steven, I know what’s troubling you.

Steven: You do? (huge relieved smile) Gosh. I really messed up, didn’t I?

He’s so, so excited for someone to understand him. He’s so thrilled for someone to understand what’s wrong, and value his problems and his life. And what happens? Garnet talks about Pink Diamond. He’s crushed again.The most important thing to Steven is his relationships with other people, his friends. Literally his entire problem solving method is to go make more friends. He’s not worried about getting hurt or how scary Homeworld is, he’s scared that his family is going to stop loving him because of the mistakes he made.

But the gems don’t take the time to understand what Steven truly values. They don’t take the time to respect his interests. They don’t take the time to know him. And we’re still seeing that. They don’t understand what movies he likes. They don’t understand how his taste in food has changed. They don’t realize he’s been a vegetarian for a month. That’s not a little change. And, what’s more, that’s a value. That’s something extremely important, a sacrifice you decide to make because you think it’s a big deal.

And the gems don’t know.

So why would he talk to them? If someone was so uninterested in my life they couldn’t figure out I’d been a vegetarian for a month, I wouldn’t be opening up about my deepest problems. And when have they ever guessed a problem right? When have they ever taken an interest in things that matter to him? When have they ever told him that his human half is just as valuable, that he deserves to do whatever he wants, that he doesn’t have to be the son of Pink Diamond and can actually just be Steven?

But why bother when you can just cheer him up with s’mores and camping and Dogcopter, right? Steven doesn’t get angry! Our precious baby boy pouts. He throws some tantrums. The only time his anger matters is in Warp Tour, because he’s right about these big adult things. Steven is a child and he is small and cute and funny and his voice cracks when he shouts. It’s funny, isn’t it? He’s just a little kid. Little boys get angry and they scream and they holler about stupid things, and who cares, right?

Until one day they’re not so little anymore.

And now it doesn’t seem so funny, does it? Now it’s kind of scary. Now, the little kid that you rolled your eyes at and ignored the emotions of is big. He’s got a deep voice. He’s got broad shoulders. When he screams at you, it’s not something to roll your eyes over. It’s kind of terrifying now, isn’t it? Because there’s real power in that bigger body, and even the lizard part of your brain at the base of your spinal chord knows that. There’s a real, destructive power when he screams, and you have to listen.

The gems still think he’s a kid, and the audience is starting to realize he’s not. And the audience is already scared of what a kid as angry as Steven, with no coping mechanisms, is going to look like as a grown man.

It’s really easy to ignore a little boy with a weak grasp of his strength. It’s a lot harder to ignore a man whose screams shake your house down.

Value your kid’s feelings. They’re going to be grown some day. And what’s more? They’re people. Their feelings mattered all along. Steven’s feelings mattered all along.

The only thing that’s changed is that you can’t call it cute anymore.

#steven universe #steven universe future #su #suf #su steven #steven su #angry steven essay #meta #essay

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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it’s a bummer to see you can’t enjoy the ending. I hope someday you can come around it it. It wasn’t perfect but it didn’t nuke its integrity. i think the heart of the show really shines through and it’s a shame that it’s not being appreciated bc there’s so much shipping drama 😣

Hi there!

I... first of, I really need people to understand this... the travesty of the finale for me has almost nothing to do with “shipping drama.”

Yes, I see the wild conspiracy theories flying around, and I’m honestly concerned for some of those folks and hope they can find a way to make peace with this in whatever way they can, because we aren’t likely to ever get a better answer than that this is legitimately the ending that Dabb thought was best, despite years of us seeing the best of his writing choices and guiding Sam, Dean, and Cas to grow past the roles that Chuck would’ve forced them to fulfill, and that at the end it fell flat because he couldn’t actually come up with a better ending than “this was always their destiny, free will is a lie, and these characters had nothing outside of the revenge quest they’d been raised for since birth and manipulated into over and over for the entertainment of a vengeful god.”

I can see how “surface level” viewers would feel that this one basic narrative point was satisfying, that Sam and Dean had grown beyond their own hopeless cycle of self-sacrifice that had driven the narrative for so many years. The fact that they both acknowledged that they should allow their stories to end in that way was satisfying... but only in the shallowest and most detached read of the narrative. Like, is this really the ONLY thing these two characters learned in the last 15 years? If so, that is BEYOND depressing af.

And even THAT message lost all narrative weight when the two of them were once again reunited in death, as if nothing else had ever mattered in their lives. As if neither of them had ever outgrown the codependency that had driven so many of those previous self-sacrifices and refusals to let go of each other even in death.

So yeah, in the absolute most basic sense, I suppose I can see how casual viewers or people who aren’t actually invested in these characters could find that at least narratively coming back to a starting point.

But narratives don’t actually work that way, and that’s not the point of watching fifteen years of story develop in between.

This story wasn’t JUST about Sam and Dean needing to accept that death might be okay actually.

This story was also about free will, fighting for humanity as a whole but also their OWN humanity and self-identities. In Dean’s case, the absolutely transformative growth from feeling like nothing but a hammer, a killer, a tool to be used. And then less than an episode and a half later, after finally accepting that truth into his heart and using it to defeat the original creator and reclaim the story of his own life for himself... he gets pied in the face after flippantly talking about his destiny and having no choice, and then three scenes later he literally dies impaled on a great big nail... like a hammer...

So I would kindly ask folks who feel satisfied by that shallowest possible takeaway of this episode, and maybe invite folks to look just under that surface. Try to understand why loads of us will NEVER feel satisfied with this ending, and why it truly does feel like the most hopeless version of the story. Like even in defeating Chuck, they could never be allowed to own their own stories and what happened to them after that point was just a twisted version of the “destiny” that drove Chuck’s entire plotline for them anyway.

Please understand where we’re seeing this as horrifically painful irony rather than some beautiful circular narrative about letting go.

For a lot of us, the shipping stuff would’ve been the cherry on top of the sundae. We would’ve been happy with a scoop of plain vanilla, though. We would’ve been happy for anything that honored the journey to freedom, and the choice at any sort of a different life of their own making than literally falling back on a nail fighting off one of John’s unresolved hunts and a vampire who had literally never been named in canon before, yet who Dean instantly recognized somehow...

but sure, for those of us who felt that “the heart of the show” was all the stuff that the finale actually erased-- that “family don’t end in blood,” and that this was actually not a show about just two brothers but the love of their found family and coming to terms with the choices they actually HAD made for themselves versus the narrative that Chuck kept centering them in DESPITE what they would choose for themselves, the finale basically told us no, everything you ever found of value in this story actually meant nothing. It told us that Chuck’s story for them was their only truth in the end, and their only freedom was to be found in death.

Please, I am begging people, stop trying to gaslight us that this was some beautiful ending. Maybe think for a second that “your read” of the narrative that allows you to find peace with the ending is not what we saw and loved about this story for the 326 episodes leading up to this finale.

And please try to understand that we were not wrong to see the entire narrative through this lens. Because we were literally validated IN CANON, and told that we understood the depth of the story and the characters just fine, actually. There’s literally ONE episode of the entire series that burns it all down in a bewildering pile of wtf. And that’s #327. That throws that entire read out the window to well actually us all back into Chuck’s literal ending... This was literally the ending Chuck wanted to force them to enact for him, and it’s what ended up happening even after they defeated him-- the ultimate Big Bad of the entire series should’ve been defeated, but instead he pulled off one final victory over the entire story.

Becky: No. You can't-- Chuck: I did. Becky: Y- This is just an ending. Chuck: Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna get there, but I know where I'm goin'. Becky: B-But it's so... dark. Chuck: But great, right? I can see it now -- "Supernatural: The End". And the cover is just a gravestone that says "Winchester". The fans are gonna love it. Well? Becky: It's awful! Horrible. It's hopeless. You can't do this to the fans. What you did to Dean? What you did to Sam? Chuck: There, see? It's making you feel something. That's good, right?

and

Dean: Well, what now? You're not gonna dust us. Chuck: Oh, yeah? Why not? Dean: Because you're holding out. For your big finish. Yeah, we know about your galaxy-brained idea, how you think this story is gonna go. Sam got a little look into your draft folder. Chuck: Sam's visions -- they weren't drafts. They were memories. My memories. Other Sams and other Deans in other worlds. But guess what. Just like you, they didn't think they'd do it, either. But they did. And you will, too. Dean: No. Not this Sam. And not this Dean. So you go back to Earth 2 and play with your other toys. Because we will never give you the ending that you want. Chuck: We'll see.

And even in DEFEAT Chuck thought he understood these characters, thought that having rendered him powerless they would finally take their revenge and kill him, but they didn’t, because he never actually understood these characters at all. And the story he tried to force them into from day one was never about THEM, it was about HIM.

And then Dean gets like two whole days of freedom and choice and is apparently incapable of making any of the choices that don’t throw him immediately back into Chuck’s favorite story. Like none of that resolution in the previous episode meant anything at all. He even SAYS it in the finale:

Dean: Yeah, no. I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away. Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.

And then two scenes later the show gives us the Nelson Muntz HA HA and Dean is no longer living, and Sam is left to carry on as a shell of himself and wander off into Blurry Wife Land to devote any even remotely content moment of the rest of his years to raising a Replacement Dean to fill the void, and is never able to pick up the pen to write anything better of his own life than Chuck would’ve dealt him in the first place.

So I’m glad that top-layer takeaway is sustaining and enough for you. It wasn’t, and will never be enough for the rest of us.

What was actually real in all of this? We were.

Until we weren’t.

And that’s honestly a shit message to be pushing on people in the wake of it all. So please stop.

I should actually thank you for the kind intent with which your message is phrased, but that doesn’t make it feel less hilariously awful. Though I chose this one to reply to as the least insulting of all the messages currently in my inbox on this subject. So thanks for that, at least.

#spn 15.20 #aka that one episode of supernatural that doesn't really exist #because you either get to have the first 326 or the finale #they're literally narratively incompatible in all but the shallowest possible takeaway here #i chose the other 326 because those are where the actual heart of the show lies #it was set on fire and buried in 327 #Anonymous

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bunny300 · 3 years

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I'm conflicted 😫

I love broken bones in whump and I don't at the same time.

You see, my problem with it is that one of the major things I DON'T like in whump is mutilation, permanent injury and the like. So if whumper breaks whumpee's ankle but then doesn't take care of it properly, they'll probably never walk again (or walk very funny). Or breaking a wrist or fingers and then never being able to use it again. Just ruins it for me. I don't know. I'm fine with scars and permanent reminders of their horrors, but there's just something about mutilation... Yeah I want it to be sad but... Like... I need the comfort with my hurt and permanent damage just seems like permanent hurt. But broken bones done right? Done the way I like?

Just imagine this scene for me:

Whumper kidnaps whumpee. Whumpee attempts to escape and ultimately gets caught. (It's better if they were actually close to freedom, I don't know, it just validates whumpers anger more!) And whumper breaks one (or both) of whumpee's ankles.

Imagine how whumpee can't walk and now needs time to heal. Let's say whumper put them in a nice room and they are now bed bound, wearing casts, needing time for their ankles to heal. They still need food and water and to use the bathroom and shower but they are stuck in that one place, in that bed, and they can't move.

Imagine a resistant whumpee, bed bound with two broken ankles. Does whumper tell them they need to ask every time they want or need something? Or does he tell them whumpee needs to beg? But what if whumpee refuses altogether? What happens then if whumper changes his game plan?

Now whumper is bringing them in food and water and other drinks. Really a great selection of foods, and he doesn't make them ask for any of it. Whumpee doesn't trust it but they're starving, so they eat and drink. Imagine their horror when they announce they have to use the bathroom and whumper just looks at them and smiles. "Beg."

We watch the horror settle in whumpee's face as they realize that this was whumpers plan. Still, they refuse to beg and a little while later, they wet the bed and are left to sit in their own wet, squishy puddle with no way to clean themself. They do not eat or drink anything when the next meal is brought, thinking they can just skip a meal or two and end up having to relieve themself less.

Whumper comes in not even ten minutes after they decline their meal and force feeds them their food saying, "You will eat what I provide and sit in your own filth until you beg." Whumpee never turned away food again unless for a legitimate reason. They had learned. But not enough. They still would not beg. Not yet.

But imagine whumpee's walls slowly crumbling. Whumpee's misery once they're sitting in a puddle on the mattress, unable to move, having wet themselves multiple times. Imagine the shame and humiliation. Imagine the stench and how dirty they must feel. How sticky.

Imagine whumper taking things to the next level by putting laxatives in whumpee's drinks. And then imagine our miserable whumpee feeling their stomach churning. Imagine their horror as they feel it explode and leak down their leg. How filthy they feel. When was the last time they showered? Changed their clothes? Brushed their hair or teeth? Felt even remotely human? They smell something awful and so does the room. If they shift at all they can feel and hear the mess. The filth. And as they cannot control their bowels, continuing to shit the bed, having been sitting in their own piss, they get the skin crawling itch, the need to feel clean. "Whumper," their voice cracks. They don't want to. They promised themself they wouldn't beg. But they weren't dumb. This was an unwinnable game and they just wanted to feel CLEAN. Whumpee holds in their sob as they wait for whumper, and as he comes in he knows immediately that with just one more push, they'd break. "My, my," whumper says, "it reeks in here, you should open a window. Oh! You can't! Should I open one for you?" Imagine whumpee swallowing whatever pride they had and muttering a "please." "Huh?" Whumper asks, "What was that? I didn't hear you." After a moment of silence whumper sighs and makes way for the door. "When you actually need something, you may call for me." "Please!" Whumpee says louder now, desperate. "Please," whumpee chokes again, now unable to hold in the sob. "Open the window whumper, please." Imagine whumper smiling at whumpee. "All you had to do was ask." After opening the window he faces whumpee again, not saying a word.

Slowly, whumpee looks over to him, "please give me a bath." "I don't know," whumper responds, smiling, "I'm rather busy right now. I might have time later this evening." Whumpee panics, part of them knowing whumper probably doesn't have anything and is being manipulative and the other part is afraid that they'll have to sit one more second in this room, in their mess. "I'm sorry," they blurt. "I was stupid and I should have listened." They make eye contact with him for the first time since whumper entered. "Please. I can't take it anymore. Please. I'm sorry." Whumper just watched them as they sobbed. Waiting. Whumpee's hiccupped cries echoed and they sobbed an, "I need you. Please." And whumper nodded. Whumpee finally understood they needed him.

Just imagine being helpless. Unable to move. Reliant upon someone in that way. And that someone was the person that caused the injury in the first place. Imagine whumper helping rehabilitate whumpee's ankles, saying, "we want them good as new, don't we?" And whumpee can only agree and take the 'offered' help.

Imagine later, after everything is healed up, whumpee acts up and whumper just looks at them for a second. "Do you like being able to walk whumpee?" "Walking is a privilege and I'm not sure you deserve it." "Should I break them again? I rather liked you so dependant on me." The psychological torment with that is seriously endless and beautiful.

So I love broke bones. The pain and how reliant the helpless the whumpee becomes. I think there's just so much opportunity for the whumper and whumpee when whumpee is healing, but lots of times they aren't taken care of and have a permanently messed up leg or arm or something and it's a bummer. Like, the opportunities are endless. I can't be the only one.

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deltaengineering · 3 years

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that was the winter anime 2021 that was

Still not quite ready for a dozen posts about how terrible the likes of Combatants Will Be Dispatched are, sorry. Watch Vivy though, it owns. Here’s some more things that are (mostly) good. As always, worst to best.

Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki S3

Yatogame has long run out of hot Nagoya facts and its ensemble comedy never amounted to much, so now it seems mostly content to just spam more and more wacky character designs. About the only thing that it has left going for it is that 3 minutes a week are more effort to drop than to watch, so I expect them to make a movie next. 4/10

Go-toubun no Hanayome S2

Quints is a weird one. S1 was a barely good enough (i.e., well above average) implementation of the ages old harem chestnut. S2 is actually better at the core of its appeal, since it gives all the characters a sharper profile (things like taking Nino from joke to badass and making Ichika a villain are no mean feat), but it does pay a steep price for it. You see, to deliver a steady drip feed of meaningful character moments it apparently has to rush through the source material at a breakneck pace, which completely wrecks the "story" part of this story and makes every episode seem like a recap. And it still keeps wasting precious time on vestigial nonsense like its framing device and the Kyoto flashback scenario that was already the worst part of S1. But by far the most annoying aspect is its insistence on keeping all the options valid, since it prevents any real progress and makes everything seem arbitrary and pointless. So sure enough, after a season of much ado we still don't end up anywhere — you can't really raise the stakes if all at stake was "who wins" to begin with. It's watchable and even enjoyable scene-for-scene but it's getting harder and harder to call it a solid show overall. 5/10

Skate Leading Stars

I was watching this primarily because I didn't like Yuri on Ice much and wanted to see if something that is a blatant attempt to cash in on it would be better — because while YoI delivers on one aspect (being hella gay), it really is an absolute shambles of a sports show. And sure enough, Skate Leading has none of the auteur appeal of YoI, but it just works much better. In particular I appreciate how it managed to make me care even a little about a cast of assholes, which is a nice contrast to the nauseatingly ingratiating way YoI tries to make you love its characters. Also, Skate Leading is just generally cheap and unambitious, so not susceptible to trying hard and painfully flaming out on the presentation side like YoI is. But at some point you gotta let go of these comparisons and on its own Skate Leading is... just fine, I guess? Competent, mildly engaging, not very memorable. And that's probably where it loses to Yuri on Ice in the end after all, even if I think it's "better". 6/10

Idoly Pride

Idoly Pride sold itself on me with a really good (and hilarious/tragic) first episode that was just too bizarre to ignore — I mean, how can you ignore GHOST IDOL MANAGERS. Well, the majority of the show isn't like that. It's a competent and solid version of the idol franchise show, yes, but it really had more potential than that. Especially midseason, it gets lost in these dozens of characters, and while they're all likeable, it does seem like a waste of a good story just centered on Mana/Kotona/Sakura. By the end it comes back around to the heart of the matter with a Maeda-style sob story, which could be a disaster but seasoned veteran Jukki Hanada makes it work anyway. Overall, there's quite a bit of ridiculous hacky melodrama in this, but quite honestly that's the best part and I wish it would concentrate more on it. The rest is just okay. 6/10

Yuru Camp S2

Yuru Camp is still likely the best pure iyashikei show when it gets down to business. Compared to S1 though, this seems to happen less and less. At its peaks (i.e., basically any quiet moment with Rin) it's at least as good as ever, and there's some good cast additions like Mini-Inuko, but it appears that Yuru Camp simply has run out of things you can do with camping and it fills up the time with other... stuff. This stuff includes the generic school club shenanigans it was never particularly good at, and a gigantic helping of crass consumerism. Yeah, I would say the majority of Yuru Camp is just a straight up infomercial at this point, which itself ranges from the perfectly acceptable (which cute anime isn't about food constantly), to the sketchy (I don't know whether the Izu tourism board cut this production a fat check, but if they didn't, Yuru Camp still gives its best effort to make it seem that way) to the highly irritating – I am aware that camping requires gear and you can't just ignore that, but you most definitely do not require whole arcs dedicated to talking about raising funds for the purposes of acquiring the Lamp of Comfy Happiness at your friendly local Caribou™ either. Not to mention an arc where the aforementioned lame school club does the same, for double irritation. Make no mistake, this show is so riddled with scenes that beg for a solution to embed affiliate links in video files that it makes me wish I was watching something as anticapitalist and underground as Love Live. And irritating really is the last thing a show with this core concept, as stellar as it is at that, can afford to be. Bummer. 6/10

SKOO the Infinity

Skoo has one really huge asset: ADAM, its magnificent villain. It also has one really huge liability: Reki, its not magnificent protagonist. To be more specific, it's very good at anything outrageous, physics-defying and silly, such as most scenes ADAM is in, and quite bad at anything serious, dramatic (in a serious way) and down to earth, such as most scenes Reki is in. So, what's the verdict? Well, the rest of the cast is more ADAM-like, and Reki's co-protagonist Langa is fine as the straight (yeah, right) man. The tedious buddy drama is a comparatively small part of this show, and at least it pays off quite well in the end. Seriously, I was ready to give this a 6, but the final episode is probably the best one of the show, in all of its aspects. That's really not something you see often. Skoo's a great time. Except when it's not. 7/10

Non Non Biyori Nonstop

Speaking of the rare good ending, what about we gave one of those to a slim and inconsequential slice-of-life show? NNB has always been solid, comfy and amusing quality with a couple of standout moments (usually something with Renge), and Nonstop has that plus an ending as conclusive as any show of this type is ever going to have. Besides, it does a lot of things right by focusing on more characters than the central 4 (especially Konomi has great material in S3), it expands the universe just enough to not get stale, and it moves things forward — It's definitely a lot better than the movie, is what I'm saying. Apart from that, well, we're three seasons in, if you have any interest in this you probably don't need me to explain what's good about NNB at this point. Bonus points for being nothing but an ad for the manga. 7/10

Wonder Egg Priority

Oh boy, so here's the big one. Wonder Egg is the rare Meaningful Arthouse Show About Real Issues You Guys, as you might have heard. And well, the long and short of it is that it's a very good show with quite a few glaring problems (besides not actually being finished due to production issues, but what we have is enough of an ending to be able to meaningfully talk about it). In particular, one problem: WEP is, at its core, one of these metaphorical Magical Girl-ish series that are just a thin layer of abstraction over coming-of-age or societal problems. The issue is that "metaphorical" in this case means "literal" and "thin" means "basically nonexistent". This show is not subtle regarding what it's about, at all. This is a double-edged sword — on the positive side, some things really should just be said aloud, and I'm really, really fucking tired of the Ikuhara style of "here's some wacky things, maybe a blog post will eventually tell you how it's actually about the most important thing ever" obfuscation — if it's really so important, just spell it out. On the other hand, there are limits to this and when a second, different Ai appears I don't really need a voiceover line telling me that yep, this show is about parallel universes now. WEP spells out many important things, but it also spells out many things that are implicitly clear or better left vague. Not to mention that with being so obvious up front, the show's tendency to leave figuring out what it's actually saying about it up to the viewer can leave the wrong impression. Again, I settled on the opinion that it's subtle after all where it counts the most, but you might easily get the impression that it pulls its punches (Ikuhara does this the exact other way around — once you figure out what the fuck he's talking about it's abundantly clear what he's saying about it).

In fact, this show is so good at subtle, quiet character moments that it calls into question the need for big huge fighting fantasy layer in the first place, especially since I'm not a fan of the fantasy designs and the fights aren't great. Sure, they look impressive on a technical level (this show is very good looking in general), but the lack of actual impact or rhythm makes me think this is not made by people who are very familiar with action and maybe they should have asked some seasoned shounen veterans for this — or just, you know, not do it. They can (and do) impress with character acting in quiet scenes just the same. And while Ai's character story actually does pay off quite nicely by the end we got, and Momoe and Rika are also handled well, Neiru's backstory is significantly less good, not to mention the whole Frill subplot regarding the show's mythology that they introduced just before (and that's the part to be resolved at a later date), which is a huge can of worms. We'll see how well they handle that, I suppose, but as it is it's a weird and vestigial detour that doesn't add much besides thematic headaches.

But yeah, apart from all that — I like it, a lot. Great character writing in the details, cool looks for the most part, tons of ambition, and a message that I consider to be appropriately handled — for the most part, and for now. Not quite ambitious arthouse anime at its finest, but also not a pretentious disaster like Sarazanmai, Monogatari et al. 8/10

#anime #review #winter2021 #Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki #Go-toubun no Hanayome #Skate Leading Stars #Idoly Pride #Yuru Camp #sk8 the infinity #Non Non Biyori #wonder egg priority

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Twelve)

*dramatic music* and also RhodeyTony softness because Besties deserve it.

MASTERLIST HERE

**************

“Rhodey.” Tony paused when he came into the lab and found the colonel sprawled out across the couch, phone in one hand and a clearly stolen-from- Tony’s-desk bag of chips in the other. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“Didn’t know I had to announce when I was coming by, thought there was an open door policy in this place.” Rhodey tipped the bag up into his mouth and crunched loudly at the crumbs, remained silent while Tony gave the lab a quick once over, and then told him, “Don’t worry. JARVIS hid everything away when I opened the doors, I didn’t see any of your super secret boy band stuff.”

Tony made an attempt to not look so relieved, but Rhodey caught it anyway and rolled his eyes. “Damn Tones, used to be you didn’t keep anything from me. You can trust me, you know. Just tell me you’re getting N’Sync back together and that’s why all the cabinets over there now have locks on them and I’ll quit bugging you about it.”

“N’Sync?” Tony rummaged through his desk until he found an unopened un-pilfered bag of chips and tossed it at Rhodey, dropped down onto the couch and scooted close to his best friend. “You know damn well I’m a Backstreet Boy. N’Sync. More like N’Wack.”

“Yeah, that joke wasn’t funny when you told it six years ago and it’s not funny now.” The colonel popped the new bag of chips and offered Tony the first handful. “Are you gonna ask me what I found out about the Monaco Whip Fetish guy, or are we going to have to karaoke duel it out to figure out who’s the best band?”

“Always Backstreet.” Tony crammed in several bites of chips and said around a spray of crumbs, “Is Monaco Whip Fetish Guy the official name? Because I could be on board with that. Just spicy enough to sell headlines, just awkward enough to ruin the moment at social gatherings.”

“You seem chipper today.” Rhodey commented instead of answering straight away. “And by chipper I mean obnoxious. What’s going on?”

“I thought you missed my patented brand of hilarity?” Tony nudged Rhodey’s foot and ignored the gratifying twinge in his core from James at the Monaco hotel. He was running on three hours of sleep and the left over high of being fucked to the point of near incoherence and it was nice. It was nice and all the questions were sort of ruining his buzz which was a bummer because he really needed it to last all the way through Pierce’s stupid party and then hopefully carry over into--

“Where the hell did you just go?” Rhodey snapped his fingers in front of Tony’s eyes and the brunette jumped. “What was that, you zoned completely. Earth to Tones.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. Solidly on Earth and chipper as hell.” Tony waved the hand away. “Eat some more chips and tell me about Whip Fetish Guy.”

James’s look was thoroughly unimpressed and unconvinced, and Tony’s returning glance was equally unconcerned and more than a little impatient so the Colonel cleared his throat and reached for the file next to him on the couch.

“Alright. Whip Fetish Guy’s real name is Ivan Antonovich Vanko. Forty years old and some change best as we can tell, his passport and ID are all fake so it’s sort of a guessing game.” Rhodey pulled out a photo and handed it to Tony. “You recognize this guy at all? Anton Vanko worked with Stark Industries and specifically with your dad on the arc reactor. Those two were bosom buddies right up until Vanko was accused of espionage and then convicted of selling weapons grade plutonium to Pakistan. They gave him almost two decades in Kopiesk before he fell off the map.”

“JARVIS?” Tony held up the picture and a light burst from the ceiling to scan the photo and upload it to his servers. “I’ve never even heard this guy’s name. You sure he worked with Dad?”

“How else do you explain the arc reactor, Tony?” James asked flatly. “We both have reviewed the Senate footage of the other attempts to replicate your armor and nothing comes close. not even in the developed countries. Then a guy from the butt end of Siberia who says your dads worked together has a perfectly working model. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“It’s not--” Tony ground his teeth together and pursed his lips. “It’s not perfectly working, but yeah pretty damn close. So what, you think old man Vanko hated Howard for getting him deported and encouraged his son to take revenge over some plutonium? I don’t think terrorists are allowed to upset about being outed as terrorists.”

There was that left over bitter than Tony had never quite managed to hide after Afghanistan, the left over anger after what had been done to him at the hands of the Ten Rings, what he’d seen done to villages full of innocents after his company sold the baddies the means to wage war.

“Nope.” he decided. “Being outed as a piece of shit selling our weapons to the bad guys isn’t a valid reason for revenge. Ask Obadiah. Oh wait, you can’t because we disintegrated him when the reactor core blew.”

“Easy easy.” Rhodey murmured when Tony’s hands balled up tight. “Nobody’s saying Obadiah or the Ten Rings were justified in anything they did. Not to you, not to all the people they hurt--”

“--not to Yinsen!” Tony burst out and the colonel nodded, “Not to Yinsen. And I’m not saying Anton Vanko didn’t deserve to be locked up but it might not have gone down the way we think.”

“What does that mean?”

“You didn’t hear this from me.” Rhodey handed Tony another piece of paper, the report filed by Howard naming Vanko as a spy. “But there wasn't a whole lot of proof, Tony. Not a whole lot of proof of anything until the charge comes in for selling the plutonium. Vanko’s name is all over all the early plans of the reactor, then they get something finalized, a few days later he’s deported as a spy and if you look at the timeline it sure seems like first he was accused and thrown out, then he turned to selling weapons.”

“It’s not an excuse.” he said slowly. “But Tony, I’ve read these reports a hundred times. It sort of looks like they got everything finalized and everything went to hell. Either Howard discovered some concrete proof of espionage and decided not to share it with the class--”

“--Or Dad sold the guy upstream so Stark Industries would completely own the patent on a piece of technology that would change the world.” Tony raised his eyebrows skeptically. “That’s a reach, even for Howard.”

“It’s a reach.” Rhodey allowed. “But it’s not unheard of. Remember Project Paperclip after the war? We imported all the best minds from Germany, used them up and threw them in jail or sent them back home to be tried as war criminals. Using intellect and getting rid of the person attached is capitalism at it’s finest, and especially back when everyone was worried about Communists and turning on their neighbors to report them... it’s not really a reach at all. One business partner getting rid of another with a frame up job isn’t unheard of. And the 'bad guy’ moniker is so easy to slap on someone who talks with an accent. You know that. You’ve seen Die Hard.”

“One hundred and twenty seven times, yeah.” Tony picked up the file and flipped through it himself. “Well what do you want me to do about it? No matter what Howard did or Anton thought he did-- Ivan walked down the middle of the Grand Prix slicing up cars and not caring who he killed. If he was after me for revenge, how did he even know I was racing? I didn’t plan that at all. How did he know? Is there a security leak I should be worried about?”

“Well, I don’t trust your new hunky boyfriend and I sure as hell don’t trust your new super hot secretary.” Rhodey took the papers back and reassembled the file. “But I don’t think Ivan knew you were racing. I think his original plan was to show up and murder a room full of people until he got to you, and you deciding to be a full tilt moron and go racing just changed things. Sure made it easier for Vanko to find you, and probably saved a bunch of lives keeping the fight out on the road.”

“Oh good, I’m glad my trauma and what will certainly be re-occuring nightmares made things easier on the maniac.” Tony slumped back into the couch and closed his eyes, a coming headache from lack of sleep and a couple days of high stress pushing at the edge of his vision. “Don’t bother updating me on the situation, alright? So long as he’s not out causing more mayhem, I don’t want to know what’s happening. Can’t take the stress.”

“Uh huh.” Rhodey nudged at him. “You’re not jealous that he has cool whips and you’re still shooting stuff out your palm like a dummy?”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll pop you in the face with a repulsor, see which one of us is the dummy then.”

Silence in the lab, comfortable and years in the making of content, Rhodey crunching away on chips while Tony tried to relax and drifted towards sleep. Monaco had only been yesterday morning and the flight home had taken the entire night. A few hours of sleep had been all Tony managed before the restlessness drove him downstairs to find Rhodey and he only had a few hours before he had to get presentable and the promised appropriate for Pierce’s party.

He was suddenly exhausted, the buzz from Monaco draining away and leaving him worn out but Rhodey was familiar and warm and despite the secrets piling up between them, Tony breathed out a sigh of relief and snuggled closer. “Remember college?” he mumbled. “When we’d fall asleep studying?”

“I remember your ass running on unfiltered caffeine and Satan’s own spite to get through finals.” Rhodey countered, settling an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “I remember you shrieking about freedom after the last exam and then coming to find me and falling asleep wherever I was. The table in the cafeteria, the front quad, the library.”

“Yeah.” Tony yawned. “Good memories, right? Treasured times.”

“Not half as treasured as you think.” Rhodey frowned when Tony’s shirt gapped and he caught a glimpse at black lines around the reactor, and his frown deepened when he saw a spot that looked like a bruise at Tony’s neck. “What’s with the extra dark lines right there, Tony? You okay?”

Tony was not okay and Rhodey knew it, but he still gave his friend the chance to lie to him come clean. “Everything still good?”

“Everything’s fine.” Tony closed up his shirt without opening his eyes. “Normal stuff behind the arc reactor after extended use of the suit and stress.”

“And your neck?”

“Probably a hickey.” Tony grinned to himself when Rhodey muttered a curse about ‘too much goddamn information’. “Yeah, sort of surprised I don’t look worse. James is energetic.”

“I will push you off this couch if you keep talking like that.” Rhodey stated, and Tony zipped his lip over a quiet laugh. “So what, you two are getting serious?”

“If by serious you mean we’ve progressed to the dance with no pants--”

“--Tony!”

“--then sure, I guess you could say serious.” Tony shrugged, yawned and stretched until he was fit snugger at the colonels side. “It’s fun. Never thought I’d be the one to say things like ‘get deeper’ but--ooph!”

Tony gasped when Rhodey unceremoniously-- and honestly sort of rudely-- pushed him off the couch and right onto the floor. “Honeybear! How could you?”

“Try again.” Rhodey stretched all the way out on the couch so there was no room for Tony. “And keep it G-rated.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Brat.”

Rhodey gave in and hauled Tony back up, tucking the smaller brunette in at his side and frowning all over again when he felt how thin Tony was beneath his shirt, the way Tony trembled just a little bit in his arms. “Tony--”

“James treats me good.” Tony changed the subject and Rhodey took the hint for what it was. “I waited twenty five years after Tiberius to try something like this again and I gotta say, it’s working out really well.”

“So he’s uh--” Damn, Rhodey hated having this conversations but he’d been having them with Tony since MIT so there was no reason to stop now. “-- he’s being good to you? Listening to you and all that? You guys are being safe?”

“I’m in my forties, Rhodey.” Tony jabbed at his side. “You don’t need to have the birds and bees talk with me.”

“I’m pretty sure this talk is just bees and bees.” The colonel replied dryly. “Seriously though, Tones. You aren’t letting him break your heart are you?”

“Not sure I have a heart left to break, Platypus.” Tony mumbled.

“Come on now, we all know that’s a lie.” Rhodey couldn’t shake the feeling that Tony was fragile just now, so he budged forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Want me to stay here so you can sleep a little bit before Pierce’s thing?”

Tony didn’t answer because he was already asleep, lulled under by the sound of Rhodey’s voice in his ear and the steady beat of his heart.

“Wacky kid.” The Colonel tried for affectionate, but it just came out miserable as he got an up close look at the bags under Tony’s eyes and the stress lines etched into his face. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“If I may, Colonel?”

“Yes, JARVIS.”

“The shelter Mr. James stayed at requires a full health panel to be run on any of their residents. At the request of Ms. Potts I accessed the information and can assure you that James was given a clean bill of health. Almost astonishingly clean considering his time being homeless and former military service. There were several curious markers in his blood noted, but nothing that raised any red flags so they were simply pushed aside.”

“Curious markers?” Rhodey repeated. “Anything you could access?”

“I fear the shelters system is not as equipped as I am to deal with unknowns, so once it was established there was nothing untoward in his system, transmitted or otherwise, the rest was ignored.”

“Okay, well thanks for letting me know.” Rhodey ran a careful hand through Tony’s hair and sighed. “Damn near fifty years old and I still gotta make sure your partners aren’t skeevy? Come on, Tones you’re killing me.”

“Shall I turn the lights down, Colonel Rhodes?”

“Put on that one song too, the one his Mama always played on the piano. That always helps him sleep.”

“Of course, Colonel.”

The first strains of Try to Remember floated through the lab, and Rhodey pulled one of the blankets down from the back of the couch to cover Tony, set his alarm for ten am so Tony would have time to shower and change before the party and settled in for a quick nap.

Sometime soon he’d have to sit James down and give him the old shovel talk, but for right now…

“Thanks for staying, Rhodey.”

“It’s no problem, bud.”

...for right now, this was fine.

**************

“I thought the party was at eleven?” James asked as he followed Tony out of the limo at just past twelve thirty. “We’re late?”

“It’s called making an entrance.” Tony was still tired-- would that ever go away?-- but after a nap with Rhodey he was feeling better so he managed an almost real smile for the cameras that immediately began flashing in his face. “Trust me, we’re not even the latest ones here. The richer people are, the later they will show up to an event.”

“Seems rude.” James remarked and Tony chuckled, “Yeah, so are rich people. Come on, I’ll introduce you to a whole bunch you definitely won’t like.”

“You said this would be fun!” James was only mock complaining, but he did have to put his hands in his pocket so he wouldn’t try and hold onto Tony when the pretty brunette grinned at him. Snuggling close on the plane had been one thing, sharing a quick kiss before going to their separate rooms at the Malibu house had been another. But the Inauguration and Promotion party for the new Secretary of Defense was not the best time to announce their...relationship?... to the entire world and even though James didn’t understand a whole lot about Tony’s life, he remembered enough of his own hidden memories to not be angry about keeping things under wraps a little longer.

No problem.

“I said there would be lots of suits and uptight small talk.” Tony corrected. “I never promised fun.”

“Okay okay.” James held up his hands peacefully. “But I also remember you saying something about tiny snacks too, so lead me to those and I’ll be fine. S’not rude to eat trays at a time, right? Or is that only rich people rude?”

“You’re um--” Tony peered over his glasses at James curiously. “You’re fun today. Not that you aren’t usually fun but this is-- I like it. Teasing and sort of flirty? Is this you you?”

“Think so.” James nodded once, then again. “It feels real to be like this, not like I’m pretending or following what other people do so I come across as normal.”

“I hear that.” Tony’s glasses went right back up when someone approached, and he cheesed through a few faux pleasantries before coming back to the conversation. “I spend most of my time acting the way people expect me to act, it’s nice sometimes to just be me.”

“When are ya just you?” A hint of Brooklyn in his words, natural and unintended and James smiled when Tony blushed a tiny bit. “With Ms. Potts? At home?”

“Lately?” Tony waved to someone and then glanced at James, glanced away when the pink on his cheeks darkened. “Just with you, I think.”

“Tony Stark!” someone interrupted their quiet conversation, an older woman in a tailored suit and the sort of tasteful jewelry that spoke of both money and a personal stylist and James took a step away purely out of habit, purely so he could observe from something of a distance.

These people were fascinating, most of them lying through their cosmetically enhanced to each other, laughing at unfunny jokes and doling out compliments that were only thinly veiled insults. Even Tony at his fakest and most camera ready behavior didn’t compare with how plastic the entire even felt. Plastic smiles, plastic bodies, plastic conversation. They were fascinating and there was far too much for James to catalogue and understand for him to pay attention to yet another inane conversation about--

“So! Taking a chance on something new are we?” James snapped back to attention when the woman’s gaze zeroed in on him, eyeing his left arm and silver fingers, lingering over his shoulders and long hair. “Who’s this?”

“This is James.” Tony motioned James forward. “I’ve been doing some work on his prostheses and he’s--”

“Gorgeous!” the woman interrupted. “He’s gorgeous! New flavor of the month? How long will this one last?”

“Wow.” Tony cleared his throat. “Listen, I uh--”

Thankfully-- and perhaps purposefully-- another voice called the woman away and she waved a cheerful, “Oh Secretary Pierce! Hello!” and granted Tony and James at least a moment of reprieve.

“Sorry about that.” Tony took two glasses off a passing tray and handed one to James. “Remember when I said rich people are rude? Somehow they’re even worse than the press because at least the press fears being sued for slander and libel. Gossip is exempt from all of those things and it thrives in parties like this.”

“Huh.” James took a sip of his drink and grimaced. Why didn’t they ever serve beer at these things? He liked beer right? ...right?

“So what’s the verdict?” he asked from behind his glass, and Tony cocked a confused eyebrow in his direction. “About me being the new flavor of the month, I mean.”

“Ah.” Tony took a sip of his own, but didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “Well, you certainly are new aren’t you?”

“You’re fun today too.” James inched closer so just their elbows brushed. “Had a good time with Colonel Rhodes?”

“Believe it or not, Monaco wasn’t even all that bad.” Tony let his eyes sparkle almost devious and was rewarded when James tinted soft pink. “The hotel was excellent. Sturdy walls and soundproof-- Secretary of Defense Pierce!”

Conversation derailed by the same man that had stolen their too nosy companion away before, Tony switched topics mid sentence and raised his glass in a toast. “Hey! Congratulations on the appointment! We’re all rooting for you. Couldn’t go to a more deserving individual.”

Tony was lying and James noticed for only a split second before his attention was captured by the man in front of him.

“Tony Stark. And his new.... friend...”

Alexander Goodwin Pierce was a consummate politician-- deceptively easy going with quick smiles and warm hand shakes that contrasted with the severe lines of his suit and the sternness set into his features. His sharp gaze saw everything, sharper wit gleaned information from even the most reticent sources, and while he’d been known to de-escalate nuclear level tensions, there was a shark like quality to his gaze that spoke of searching for blood.

The man was intimidatingly smart, overly educated and weaponized a practiced act of humility, going so far as to turn down a Nobel Peace Prize while simultaneously leveraging the influence afforded him by the honor into an ever escalating ladder of success. He was an American hero, a life long patriot and the sort of individual that would do anything to ensure the success of an endeavor he deemed the right path.

Alexander Pierce was dangerous in the same way all smart men were dangerous, and while Howard had shaken his hand many a time and dined alongside Presidents and dignitaries while sharing private jokes, it had been Maria that never quite trusted Pierce’s particular brand of charm.

And Tony took after his Mama in more ways than one, so when he reached to shake Pierce’s hand and was left rebuffed for a few seconds while the Secretary blatantly stared at James, he didn’t ignore the wiggle of unease down his spine.

What is happening?

“This must be James.” Pierce said, smoothly, a hint of a smirk on his face as if he knew a secret neither Tony nor James knew, and Tony-- Tony hated that. Snake. “How on earth did you manage to find someone like this, Tony?”

“We were both having breakfast in a diner with really good pancakes.” Tony stepped a little bit in front of James as if his height in any way covered the soldier’s hulking frame. “I offered to build him a new prostheses, he said I had a nice smile. Tale as old as time.”

“Uh-huh.” Pierce had yet to look away from James, but his mouth turned up more at the corners, eyes sharpening as he looked James over. “I see. And tell me, how did a man like this happen to be in the exact diner where billionaire genius philanthropist Tony Stark would come in for pancakes? Was he living nearby?”

“Was staying at the shelter in D.C.” James answered shortly. Tony was practically radiating tension towards a guy that didn’t seem to be any more danger than a damn toaster, but if Tony was going to be uncomfortable, James was going to be uncomfortable too. Tony had said Pierce was a nice guy but right now, he seemed more like an enemy so James tipped his chin up and narrowed his eyes. “What’s it to ya?”

“What’s it to me.” Alexander laughed softly and lifted his glass up in a faux cheers. “An excellent sentence to be sure. How long was he at the shelter, Stark? Do you know why he chose D.C. as a landing point?”

“Um--” James blinked, thrown by the way the man kept talking about him but not to him and the way Tony kept winding tighter and tighter. Everything about this was wrong and Pierce was smiling like he knew something, like he knew James, but that didn’t make any sense.

Something was wrong.

“Tony.” Alexander kept watching James. “You’ve never done a hands on charitable deed in your life. What is so special about this particular ex soldier?”

“Sure, Stark Industries Charity Foundation does most of the good deeds, but I like to get my hands dirty every once in a while.” Tony retorted defensively. “How did you hear about James? Or his military service for that matter?”

“He’s got soldier written all over him.” Pierce said, and that was apparently funny to only him. “The way he walks, the way he stands there staring. The speech--” he tapped at his bottom lip. “That’s new. A new development--”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I just mean you’d expect someone so clearly military to keep some more of that stilted speech pattern.” Alexander was quick to explain his words, but the seemingly intentional damage was already done and Tony reached behind him when he felt James step away.

“Hey.” he said softly. “Hey, it’s okay. We can just leave if you want.”

“Talk to your friend.” It was a like a curtain fell in front of James’s eyes, leaving them blank and cold, his speech stilted. Something was wrong and everything was plastic and he needed to leave. “I’ll find something to eat and wait for you outside.”

Tony was safe, James knew that. The danger Pierce represented had nothing to do with Tony and something to do with James so he was just going to walk away. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Oh no, don’t let him leave.” This was the shark Maria had hated so much, the eerily focused eyes and the teeth bared in a barely convincing smile. “I have so many questions. Tell me again how you two met?”

“It was a diner.” Tony turned long enough to make sure James made it out the door then turned back to Pierce and took one, two steps into his space, reaching to finally finish that shake they never really got to, and purposefully squeezing hard.

All his life he’d let the press and tabloids say what they wanted about him, he’d let Rhodey or Pepper deflect the meaner comments while he just laughed as if they didn’t wound him to his soul but now? Now Tony had a countdown and percent of nearly fifty and if he was crossing things off his bucket list, he might as well add finally telling pretentious politicians to shut the hell up to the tally, right?

...and if he was sort of irrationally angry that Secretary Pierce was being so rude to the first person to make Tony honestly happy in years….

….well that was something too, wasn’t it?

“Mr. Stark.” Alexander raised his eye brows when Tony invaded his space. “Something on your mind?”

“I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but no one is going to come along and purposefully make me and my date so uncomfortable.” Tony said calmly, quietly, clearly. “I don’t care who you are or how many President’s hands you’ve shaken, there is no excuse to talk about anyone the way you just talked about James and there’s certainly no excuse for the recently appointed Secretary of Defense to bring that sort of assholery to a former soldier.”

“Tony, I think you’re over-reacting.” Alexander protested lightly. “I was just curious about your date, I wasn’t aware that you and the Soldier-- er, any soldiers-- ran in the same circles. Is there something in your past--”

He emphasized the word. “--that draws you together? Perhaps he knew your dearly departed mother?”

“Mr. Secretary, I don’t know why the hell you’re acting like this, but I have had enough.” Tony bared his teeth in an equally frightening smile as his vision practically flickered red with a surge of anger. His Mama? Pierce wouldn’t dare. “I am far past the days of giving a single flying fuck what people think about me or my actions. I don’t care what your title is or how much people admire you for pretending to not want that Nobel Prize. Whatever game you’re playing right now? Cut it out, or I will ruin you, do you understand?

“Just so we’re clear…” Pierce glanced around the room then pulled Tony an inch closer, eyes flashing in defiance. “Is Iron Man threatening me? Coming after the Secretary of Defense and head of SHIELD?”

“No.” Tony shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Iron Man and everything to do with us. I personally will ruin you if you continue acting this way towards myself or anyone I bring around. Do you understand?”

It was a step too far, way too far in fact, threatening a high ranking official and powerfully connected man with danger just for insulting him was way too far but Tony didn’t want to stop. No one else was going to tear down the things that made him happy, no one else was going to step up and ruin what should be a good day. Tony didn’t have all that many days left and damn it, he was tired of them being spoiled all the time.

“Do you understand?” he asked again, pointed and focused and wishing half to hell he had finished the design on the stand alone gauntlet so he could whip it out and send Pierce through a wall. “No more.”

“You’re the boss, Mr. Stark.” Pierce relaxed in a half second, backing off and smiling broadly. “After all, I never would have made it this far in life without the support of good friends and faithful Americans who choose to let me continue doing what I believe is right.”

“Sure.” Tony’s head was suddenly throbbing and he tried not to visibly wince. “Whatever you say to make Washington like you. Now if you’ll excuse me--”

“Oh there’s just one more thing.” Pierce said and Tony ground his teeth together in frustration. “You never gave me James’s last name.”

“He’s got a pretty bad case of PTSD and some form of amnesia after his accident.” Tony said shortly. “We don’t know his last name, and trust me, I’ve looked.”

“If you ever want to call in one of the dozen or so favors I owe the Stark family, I’d be happy to look up any information I can find on your friend.” Pierce offered smoothly. “Any information at all. I’m sure with my resources we could have an answer sooner rather than later. Might even see about getting some of those memories back. Wouldn’t that be fun? To be able to remember the nineties again? Good times for all involved, right?”

“Mr. Secretary.” Tony pressed a hand to the arc reactor when his chest tightened with unexplained anxiety. “You’re clearly having a conversation that I am not privy too and since I don’t have time for political, societal bullshit anymore, I want you to know I mean this in the best way possible-- Congratulations on your promotion, but you can go fuck yourself.”

Tony was on his way out the door a minute later, visibly seething, visibly searching for James and anyone who doubted that perhaps Tony Stark was actively dating a man had their questions answered when the two reunited at the front steps and held hands down into the waiting limo.

My oh my, the gossip of the decade.

“Was that--” Brock Rumlow was head of Secretary Pierce’s security, and he paused just over his boss’s shoulder to ask, “With Stark. That was him, wasn’t it?”

“Somehow yes.” Pierce tossed back the rest of his drink. “We lost track of him in D.C. and it’s because Stark picked him up like a lost puppy and brought him all the way to Malibu. What are the odds of that?”

“Sorta weird that it's old man’s Stark work that helped create him.” Rumlow offered. “Should we be worried about interference from big and blond?”

“The most interesting thing about any member of the Stark family is that they have always thought they were ahead of the plot.” Pierce remarked slowly. “When in reality, they are so focused on their genius and their one project, they fail to see the rest unfolding around them. It was Howard’s issue, it was Maria’s issue and now it is Tony’s downfall. He is literally holding the piece to one of the greatest conspiracies of all time, and he has no idea.”

“Doesn’t know about his parents?”

“At this point, I’d say no.”

“Are we going to change that?”

“Not yet.” Alexander smiled graciously at a passing waitress. “No sense rushing things. The Soldier was wiped to the point of incoherence and he’s barely human as it is. Let’s wait and see what’s going to happen.”

“What happens if the Soldier comes back online?”

“Well, the last person on his list of targets was Stark.” the Secretary reminded him. “Then Stane stepped in and took care of Tony for us and we wiped the Asset before we realized Tony would escape. If he comes back online, he will revert to the last known objective and that will solve every headache and problem I’ve had since meeting Howard thirty years ago.”

“Huh.” Rumlow shot one last look at the departing limo. “If you say so, boss.”

“Oh, I think I’d prefer it if you called me Mr. Secretary.” Another smile for a party goer. “It has such a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

***************

It was later that night when Tony lay in bed staring up at the ceiling and wishing he had the nerve to go and crawl in close to James when the conversation with Pierce came back to him.

It was weird the way Pierce kept acting like he knew something about James, and not in the smarmy smirking way that homophobes acted around two men together, but in a more disturbing way, like he was laughing right in Tony’s face for just not knowing.... something.

“J?” he called to the ceiling. “You up?”

“For you sir, always.”

“Do me a favor and create a program that will connect Alexander Pierce with anyone like James. Former soldiers, PTSD patients, anything like that. Was he over seas in a time when James might have been, was he involved in any rehab program-- all that sort of thing.”

“Of course sir, I’ll begin right away. Would you like James’s opinion on the day’s events? My sensors show he is still awake as well.”

“Um--” Tony’s entire body heated thinking about James being awake. “Um-- no. I need some sleep.”

“The admission is a miracle in itself, sir. Ms. Potts will be thrilled you’ve finally come to recognize the very human need for REM sleep.”

“Snarky shit.” Tony muttered, and rolled over into his pillows. “Good night, J.”

“Good night sir. Sleep well.”

*****************

Chapter Notes:

I. LOVE. BOY. BANDS so my NCTS-verse Tony does too. Die mad about it.

‘Try to Remember’ is the song Maria is playing when Tony does the BARF demo in CACW.

I sort of enjoyed how fucking terrible Pierce was in this. Talking about James because he never once saw the WS as a person, just as a tool. Making references to Howard and Maria’s death to Tony’s face. MAKING TONY STARK THE WS’s OBJECTIVE JUST BEFORE TONY GOT KIDNAPPED IN AFGHANISTAN. HOLY PLOT LINE BATMAN THAT COULD BE A FIC ALL BY ITSELF

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

*****************

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#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #iron man 2 #alexander pierce

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