#IM GOING TO VIBRATE RIGHT OUT OF MY CHAIR WITH JOY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeycombstrawberry · 2 years

Text

borderline crazy

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, gn sex descriptions)

rating: e+

word count: 4,697

warnings: putting a warnings label on this one right here!! right up top!! i am telling you right now that this is a sexually explicit story that features consensual sex in which the participants have consensually agreed prior to the events of the story to a stalking and home intrusion roleplay with one another. everything here is pre-established, agreed-upon, consensual roleplay sex. if you do not like this, please do not read this. i am warning you here. it is your responsibility to take care of yourself when reading.

one-sentence synopsis: someone with impure intentions is following you home tonight.

prompts: "i know you like possessive adrian so are you interested in stalker!adrian ?? i think he seems like the type to follow you home for ‘protection’ and maybe some more :D" (anonymous) and "may i make a request for adrian and how he does aftercares with reader🥺 bet he'll be all smiley and grinning like an idiot the whole time and be really soft on you like melted mush and just basking in each other's afterglow ahh im already thinking about how you're gonna write this and i just know you'll nail and kill it right on the head thank u darling mwuahh" (anonymous)

author's note: whew okay i put a lot of warnings up there but i just want to make sure everybody is taking care of themselves!! please take care of yourself!! and if you're still here i hope you enjoy this story!!

read on ao3!

You know you can hear someone behind you.

Under different circumstances, you wouldn’t care about this. Right now, though, you can’t help feeling more than a little unsettled.

You’d spent most of the night hanging out with the 11th Street Kids. You’d finished a mission the day before, so after resting all night— and, honestly, most of today— you’d all gathered back at your favorite local bar to actually just hang out and enjoy some non-violent time together.

By the time Leota had tapped out, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. That had just started a chain reaction of everyone deciding to go home, until it was just you and Adrian left behind. You had stared at each other over the tabletop, for a beat, once the last person— Chris— had left. The way Adrian had been looking at you was so impossibly heated, it made your cheeks flush.

“I should probably start heading out, too,” you had told him. You picked up your drink, stirring the tiny straw through the remains of liquid and ice; you could feel him tracking your every moment.

Adrian’s eyes flicked up to your face, locking on your eyes for a moment before they’d snapped away again, down to his hands. He nodded jerkily, saying, “Yeah, okay,” then hesitantly adding, “I— This was really nice. I like hanging out with you.”

You had to fight back the smile that started to rise automatically at that. You’re always so impossibly endeared by him. Even in that moment, he had been unable to stop trying to be warm towards you.

“I like hanging out with you, too,” you had said. You could feel the joy in your voice, and you tried to fight it back down, to make it less obvious. That’s not part of the little game you play.

Adrian had looked at you, then away again, hands drumming against his thighs under the table. He had been practically vibrating with energy before he pushed back abruptly, his chair screeching on the floor even in the cacophony of noise of the bar.

“I’m gonna head out, too,” Adrian had told you in a rush. “I just— I got— I gotta— I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” you replied. You had leaned back in your chair, given him a little wave. “I’m going to finish my drink before I head out.”

He paused then, watching you for a moment. You looked up to him standing beside the table.

“See you later, Adrian,” you added, prompting him to blink and look away from the rim of your glass, flickering up to your face again.

There had been a faint flush across his cheeks, bleeding up his ears, and then he smiled. It was just a quick flash, there and gone, but it set off such a sharp and unexpected spike of feeling that sparked up your spine like a shock that you think you still feel it even now.

“See you,” he had echoed. You’d given him a little wave, and his face flushed a bit further before he was diving back through the people around you to leave.

You watched him push through the front door of the place, disappearing into the warm darkness beyond. For your part, you had done as you said you were going to do, finishing your drink before you gathered your things. Everyone already paid before they left, so you just headed out, shouldering open the same door you had only just seen Adrian leave through.

And then you were walking home, which is when you realized you could hear someone behind you.

And here you are now.

The night is warm, but your skin still prickles, responding to the eyes that you can feel scraping over you. When you chance a look back over your shoulder, you don’t see anything. There are only buildings, and parking meters, and streetlamps, and a cat that darts from one side of the street to the other like a bolt of grey lightning.

You hesitate, watching for movement, but nothing else happens. You turn back around, picking up your pace a little bit.

Behind you, you swear, you can hear what sounds like the occasional shuffling slide of a footstep, or the drag of some material over what could maybe be stone. It doesn’t make perfect sense, what you’re hearing— unless somebody is following you. Your hands prick, palms growing slick with sweat as your heart jumps up into your throat.

Though you keep walking, it feels as though the pace of the person behind you never shifts. They don’t try to speed up to catch you, nor do they ever appear to follow back. Based on what you’re hearing, they might be keeping pace with you.

A twist of anticipation starts curling up in your belly. You’re not sure if someone’s going to try something, but you’re getting close to home. If something was going to happen out here, they’re running out of chances to do whatever they want that to be.

You can see your building up ahead. You fish your keys out of your bag preemptively, already ready to go once you get there.

The nearer you get to your place, though, the faster the footsteps seem to move. It’s like they know they’re running out of time, and they’re increasing their speed to compensate.

Your heart is starting to truly hammer in your chest. You have to force yourself to try and keep your pace even, not letting yourself break into a run. You know that’ll only draw attention to yourself. You’re so close to home. If you can get on the other side of the locked door, there’s not much they can do.

You get to your front steps and you’re already pushing the key into the lock. The moment you have to stop to actually put the key in, and unlock it, and twist the knob, seems like it takes fucking forever.

Your sweat-slick palm slips on the knob. You inhale shakily, then try again, pushing in quickly. You rush inside, pushing the door quickly shut behind you, clutching your keys to your chest. You don’t hesitate to reach down and lock the door.

Good luck, you think to the person on the other side of the door.

Now that you’re safely inside, you let yourself take a minute to actually calm down. Though you listen for activity on the other side of the door, you don’t hear anything.

Believing, now, that they didn’t come all the way up to your front door, you push away from it to head for your bedroom instead. You nudge aside dropped armor pieces near the bed on your path there. Flopping down in the middle of it, you pry your shoes off, letting them fall to the ground.

You’re tired, but not really sleepy. You slept most of last night and today; you’ll probably end up falling asleep later, but you’re not there yet.

You glance over at your nightstand. Reaching out, you push aside a spare pair of glasses to find your phone charger and plug your phone in, setting it aside on the tabletop. Your blood’s still thrumming, really— the rush of your trip home has just left adrenaline in your body, and your system had already been pumping overtime after the night you had.

Thinking back on Adrian sitting across from you all night, you can’t help shifting slightly in bed. Your hips move just a bit of their own accord. You press your thighs together, just a tiny bit, to feel a little bit of friction.

It’s easy, instinctive, for you to reach for the button on your pants. You ease it open, drag your zipper down. When you slip your hand past the waistband of your underwear and down, between your thighs, a breath punches hard up out of your lungs, your back arching slightly up as you shift your hips to get a better angle on yourself.

When you tilt your head back and close your eyes, you can see Adrian in the darkness you engulf yourself in. It’s an ambiguous shape, for a moment, before it becomes him, and then it’s him between your thighs, his dark head of hair against your soft skin as he bites at the inside of your thigh.

Even the fantasy of it gets your heart jolting, and your chest aches as your back arches again, your hand starting to move faster on yourself. There’s sweat prickling on your skin, and you think about him, and the race of your adrenaline and the pound of your heart and the thud of your pulse work in tandem with the coiling heat inside you, deep in your gut, gathering between your legs, in your core.

Your breathing is getting shaky, and you can’t help the soft noise that comes up when you feel a pulse of feeling rocket through you. In your mind, you see Adrian lifting his head to look at you, his bright eyes meeting yours.

You can’t help it; his name falls from your mouth, a disjointed moan that comes out in broken sounds, just— “Adrian,” into the darkness and wet near-silence of your bedroom.

There’s a response. A corresponding sound, a low moan that’s not a word but just a sound, unbidden and automatic. Your eyes fly open, and you look up to find a glint of red in the shadows on the fire escape outside your window.

You freeze. Your heart is thundering in your chest, shocked heat spooling inside as your system frantically attempts to respond.

The glint of red moves closer, and you can see more details, then: the glint is a strip, the red band of Vigilante’s mask, and the rest of his suit comes into view within moments. You watch with your heart practically in your throat as he pushes open your unlocked window, easing the glass upwards. He does it so surely, so easily, pushing it with his shoulder. His armor’s unfastened, you can tell, and his cock is fucking out, even though his gloves are still on.

“Adrian,” you breathe, watching him climb through your window. His name comes out almost like it had in the moments before, when it fell out of your mouth. “What did you—”

“All of it,” he tells you. He slides the window shut behind himself. This time, he locks the latch, shoving it into place until you hear it click. When he turns to look at you again, mask still in place, you can’t find his eyes, the lamplight too low for that kind of visibility for you. “You shouldn’t walk home alone at night.”

Your heart picks up impossibly faster. “Nothing bad happened—”

“Yet,” Adrian interrupts you.

It’s hard to think of him as Adrian when he’s like this, concealed and hidden away, but impossible to think of him as anyone else. Even as Vigilante, he’s more recognizable to you than anyone else on this planet. You think your stupid heart might even be in love with him.

“You don’t know what kind of maniacs might be out at night,” Adrian continues. He takes a step closer, predatory. His head tilts down, tracking over you as he observes your hand still down the front of your pants, though still unmoving in your surprise, frozen mid-motion. “Or… Maybe you do.”

Your face flushes. You can feel the heat rising up from your chest, soaring up your face. You watch Adrian track its motion, the flood as it swells upwards.

“Were you watching me?” you ask him, voice soft.

Adrian takes another step closer, then another, until he’s stopped beside the bed, head tilted as he studies you. His gloved hand returns to his cock, drawing your attention back down to it. Your lips part unconsciously, slipping open.

“Yeah,” Adrian says. “But, to be honest, I’m really never not watching you.”

You can’t slow the galloping thud of your pulse, heart climbing into the back of your mouth. You watch with a twist of anticipation curling inside you as Adrian climbs up onto his knees on the bed, shifting until he can kneel up over you like that. He moves one leg over yours, brackets your thighs with his knees. His heavy cock is still in his hand, stroking upwards.

The band of red that makes up Adrian’s vision doesn’t stop moving over you, taking you in as he keeps fucking his own hand.

“What do you mean?” you breathe, and Adrian drops down instantly, his free hand slamming down on the pillows beside your head to brace him above you.

“I mean,” Adrian tells you, “that you should pay more attention, because you never know who’s there.” He breaks off a small noise when he twists his wrist, changing the angle on his own cock, a breath punching out of him. “Or why they’re there. There’s some real sickos out there who would do pretty much anything to get their hands on you.”

Your heart is in your throat as he shoves back upwards, his gloved hand coming to drag down your front. He thumbs roughly over your nipple through your shirt, then reaches to push the fabric up, letting it bunch past your chest so he can get full access to your skin. His gloved hand drags, the seams catching on your flesh, and you bite off a sharp noise at the friction of it, your eyes burning.

“Like you?” you ask him breathlessly.

His visor tilts up again, connects with your eyes.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like me.”

He reaches to grab your pants and yank them down to your knees. His hand spreads your legs, takes one thigh and pushes it away so he can fit himself between your knees. With his cock in his hand, he finds where you’ve been touching yourself, running his gloved fingertips over your entrance.

“But you were thinking about me,” Adrian says, a question at the edge of his voice. “Like you knew I was there.”

You huff a laugh, even as Adrian grabs your wrist so he can drag your hand away from yourself. You whine softly, and he shoves your hand upward, pins it against the pillows.

“Stop it,” he instructs you. “You don’t know how to take care of yourself. That’s why I have to do it for you all the fucking time.”

You start to ask, “Wh—” but he’s lining his cock up with your entrance, then, and pushing in, and everything in your lungs flies out of it. Your hands reach up, grasping at nothing before you find the back of his mask and start pulling at it, but he snatches both of your wrists again and slams them down.

“You don’t look over your fucking shoulder when you walk home,” Adrian all but growls at you. “You don’t carry a knife in your pocket, you don’t even keep your keys in your fist. Do you want to stay alive?”

“I can handle whatever comes at—” you start to argue with him. He cuts you off by pushing the rest of the way into you, sheathing himself inside you, his hips meeting yours, the fabric of his armor and his suit scraping your bare skin. “Ahh, fuck, Adrian—”

His hand gentles over your hair, thick gloved fingers stroking through the strands before it glides down the slick, sweaty side of your face. He slips down further, letting his hand slide until he’s wrapped around your throat.

He increases his pressure, there, tightening as he observes you, his head tilted. His cock pulses inside you, impossibly thick and searing hot, and your back arches up, pushing closer into him.

“I know you’ll keep me safe,” you tell him, voice strained, thin.

Adrian must make some face behind the mask, a twist of his mouth, before he’s dropping down. His masked lips shift against your ear, grazing the shell of it as he asks you, “And what if I’m what you need to be kept safe from?”

Goosebumps break out all over your skin. Your heart catches in your throat, and Adrian tightens his grip until he can feel it beneath his fingers, your rabbiting pulse thick under his grip.

“Then I’m fucked,” you tell him, little more than a wheeze.

His grip tightens again, and he laughs, lifting his head.

“Yeah,” he says. “You really are.”

You can almost see him smiling through the mask when he takes your hip in his other hand, shifting to slide most of the way out of you before he’s shoving back in, and then he’s finding his rhythm, a furious throbbing race of desire, his thick cock pounding into you, splitting you open, while his hand around your throat pulls you back together.

His hand finally slips away from your throat when you can’t take a breath inward. His hold loosens, and you suck in a deep breath, chest heaving. Rather than return to your neck, his hand moves instead up to your mouth. He pushes two of his long gloved fingers into your mouth, drawing your lower lip down, taking your teeth and jaw with it. You taste leather when his fingers press to your tongue.

In the next moment, he drags down to your thigh, taking it in a tight hold and jerking it up so he can adjust his angle. Again, you cry out his name without meaning to; again, he responds in kind, his head falling forward until the rough material of his mask meets the soft skin of your forehead.

He leaves a bruise in the meat of your thigh with the force of his grip before he’s grazing up your side to slide behind your back. In an easy movement, all his muscles shifting beneath his armor, he hauls you up into his lap, jerking you upright until you’re sitting on his cock.

The depth and pressures changes, and you get impossibly fuller, as if he’s fucking up into the back of your throat. You reach up and grasp for his mask again, tugging at it, but his hand comes up and snatches your wrist again.

He presses your palm over the place his mouth should be, his breath hot through the mask, dampening the fabric as he pants open-mouthed against it.

“I’m gonna keep you safe,” he promises you. It’s a heavy, loaded promise, for a moment like this, but you’re all the more certain he means it because of that.

To say this is overwhelming would be a fucking understatement, but this also might be one of the most erotic experiences of your life. Leave it to Adrian fucking Chase to awaken something this unhinged inside of you. You think you could do this every night with him until the end of goddamn time, and you’re reasonably certain that anybody you told that to would think you’re an absolute maniac.

Let them, you think wildly. Maybe I am fucking crazy—

Adrian cries out your name again, his upward thrusts into you becoming disjointed, arhythmic, frantic as he loses pace and just needs to take, claiming you in great sweeps of his body, great gusts of heat through yours.

—But so is he, you think, delighted. You let your head fall back, a grin on your face when Adrian mouths at your jaw through the mask, ducking down to bite through the fabric at the blossoming bruises on your throat.

The friction and the movements of Adrian’s body as he fucks into you give you impossible stimulation where you need it most. Even though you’re technically untouched, nobody’s hands on you, you can feel yourself rocketing closer and closer to climax with each roll of his body. You twist to grind into him, winding an arm around his neck to stabilize yourself and find balance when you chase your edge.

Adrian grips the back of your head in his strong hand, stopping you from moving as he traps you against him. Your hips work frantically still, until you’re blazing, falling apart around his cock.

Your head drops, forehead colliding with the hard surface of the armor over his shoulder. Your skin is slick with sweat, sliding along the material when you try to catch your breath, chest heaving against his. You have no control over yourself as your climax seizes your body, whiting out your vision and your thoughts and your mind as a whole. All you are is seething pleasure, writhing in his arms, unable to do anything but feel.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian breaks off near the hinge of your jaw. He chases his own release, fucking into you without hesitating. He finally reaches up to tear his own mask off; beneath, he’s breathless and red-faced and sweat-slick, unfocused eyes disappearing quickly when he drops in to kiss you roughly.

There’s no rhythm to his kiss, no finesse, but that’s fine, because you’re still shattering through the remnants of your own orgasm and you have no mind for coordination. You let him kiss you sloppy and open-mouthed, a wet mess before he’s dragging his face down. His forehead meets your mouth when he drops down, and then he’s cumming inside you, his hand coming up to grip your hip, stilling you, keeping you in place as he fills you.

You let your lips press a kiss to his forehead, then another, salt and leather on your tongue. His chest is heaving, too, and you’re flooded, warmth that seeps through you and from you.

You can feel his cock inside you, still, when he shifts to draw back. He lifts his head so he can meet your eyes, though he still can’t see well, blurred vision slightly unfocused, eyes not quite lined up with yours.

You reach over to the side table, grabbing his spare pair of glasses and unfolding them for him, slipping them up and onto his face. He huffs a laugh, twisting to kiss you.

“Weirdo,” he says, then says, “Brace yourself, babe,” with his hands on your hips.

You do as he says, but you’re still not ready for him to slip out of you, and you whine when he does. He’s beaming when you look up at him, all flushed-pink face and fever-bright eyes and open-joy delight written in every inch of his expression. It’s such a quick flip from the way he was just acting in the scene you’d been doing, now as it all slips away.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, stroking his hand up and through your hair. When he realizes his glove is still on, he brings his hand to his mouth to bite the fingertip, tearing the fabric up and off with his teeth. His hand returns, soft skin gliding along your cheek as he strokes it gently before starting to comb through your hair again.

“Good,” you tell him. You stretch, feeling the joints in your back crack and realign. “Mm. Sore.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Lay down, c’mere, okay—”

“It’s a good sore,” you tell him, but he’s already laying you down in bed, gentling your head down onto the pillows. He separates from you and tugs the blankets up to cover you.

“Lemme go get a—”

“No, don’t,” you ask. You know he’s probably going to offer to clean you up, but you don’t really want that right now. You don’t mind being a bit of a mess for a while longer; it’s part of what you like about all of this. “Will you just— Can you stay here for a while first?”

“Hell yeah,” Adrian agrees eagerly, no hesitation. He’s smiling the entire time he tears his uniform pieces off, tossing them to the ground in a heap of armor and thick material. He makes quick work of what remains of your clothes, sending them to join his own.

It’s part of who you two are, what you two do, these little games you play with each other. You wonder if the rest of the 11th Street Kids might ever catch on. You arrive places together, and you’re always the last to leave. They all know you live together— Hell, they come over to your place at least once a week. They’d probably think it’s strange that you leave separately, though they likely wouldn’t be able to piece together why.

Maybe other people think you’re strange, but you don’t give a shit about other people. This is just about you and Adrian. If you like roleplaying scenes where he stalks you home and breaks in and fucks you in a bed that you woke up that morning sharing, that’s fine. If you like maybe how close to real these scenes are— how Adrian does like following you, how you thrill underneath your skin at the idea of him stalking you through the streets with his one-track mind focused on nothing but claiming you— then that’s fine, too. You do this together; you both love this, love the thrill of it, the edge of it, the possessive power he holds over you when you do things like this together.

If you used your safe word, he would stop. If he used your safe word, you would stop. There’s no questions asked if you do. Tonight, though, everything went perfectly; you can still practically feel him in the back of your throat, contentment radiating through both of you to feed into each other.

“Want me to follow you home tomorrow?” Adrian asks as he’s tugging you back into his arms, climbing under the covers with you.

“Lemme think about it,” you murmur back. He kisses along your neck in soft presses of his lips, barely more than a fluttering touch each time, peppering them everywhere. “I might just wanna stay in and get takeout tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Adrian hums. “We could watch that movie you mentioned, I can find it and rent it.”

“We could always just steal it and stream it,” you point out.

“That is a crime,” Adrian admonishes you, and you laugh, twisting to burrow into him. He’s grinning when he tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“You can pretend you’re here to murder me next time, if you want,” you suggest cheerfully. Adrian’s turned-up smile glides down your cheek to your chin. He presses a kiss there, too.

“I’ll try,” he says, “But that’ll be a hard one to pull off. I always want to, like— stalk you, at least a little bit. And I definitely always wanna follow you home, but I don’t ever actually want to really, like, kill you kill you.”

You can’t help laughing, reaching up to cover your face. Adrian drags your hand away, kissing your cheek, in the space just under your eye.

“Hopefully we can keep it that way,” you tease him.

“Oh, you could never,” he mumbles, tugging you closer into him. He’s slowly melting into you, his limbs growing heavy as he gets comfortable with you, stroking your hair back from your face. He gets snug against the pillows, then pulls you into him. You shift, and he lets you move until you’re comfortable, his hand hovering just over you so his fingers brush your bare skin or your hair, now and then, as you’re wriggling into place.

The two of you slot together into each other’s empty spaces, tangled from your ankles upwards. You’re half-laying on him, your head on his chest, listening to his heart as it slows from its fast pound into an even, slow, steady beat under your ear.

His fingertips drift up, dragging up your back in a slow, heavy touch. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the top of your head.

“Love you,” he tells you. You can still feel the curve of his smile. It feels like the warmth of it is radiating through your limbs, spreading from him to you, sweet and slow and thick and warm, a syrup that swallows you.

“Love you,” you murmur back, tilting up to catch him in a proper kiss. It’s soft, and he can’t stop smiling, cupping your cheek, his thumb sweeping along your skin.

adrian chase taglist:

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tsumuki · 3 years

Text

comfort crowd

feat. miya osamu

genre/s: fluff to angst

a/n: this kinda sucks, all i write is angst im sorry. very very self indulgent im sry. kinda inspired by “comfort crowd” by conan gray

for as long as you could remember, you were in love with your best friend. how could you not be? from him kissing your scraped knee when you fell off your bike, to the way he would comfort you in your darkest moments, he was always there. you don’t remember a time you looked at him and didn’t feel your heart flutter.

you were a masochist though, and never dared to tell him. the certainty of staying friends always overrode the risk of trying to be more. so you locked your feelings away, deeming them a burden to your friendship.

but the way he looked at you as you laid under the stars, sneaking out at the ungodly hours of the night because he “couldn’t sleep”, you couldn’t help but keep that sliver of hope alive.

“god i miss her”

his words snap you back into reality, school. having lunch at school, him sitting across from you. you felt your heart tinge at his words.

he was referring to, his now ex, girlfriend, who he recently found cheating on him. as much as you wanted to laugh, leap with joy at the possibility of having him again, and tell him “you told him so”, all you really wanted was to take the pain away. to bring the brightness in his eyes, even if you weren’t the reason for them.

you take his hand in yours, meeting eyes with him. “you’ll be okay. it’s been what, almost a month?” he nods his head slightly, you smile, “almost one month closer to happiness again, right? plus you know i’d do anything for you, i’m always here”

“anything?” he pushes on, eyebrows raised in curiosity. you nod with a smile resting on your cheeks because it was true, you would do anything for him to not feel the hurt he didn’t deserve.

his slight laughter warms your heart and he meets eyes with you again, this time just staring. you feel your cheeks heat up as his eyes are locked on your face.

“stop staring at me, you’re gonna make me fall in love with you” you stutter, trying to play as a joke.

“what if that’s what i want?”

you feel your body freeze. what did he just say? you look up with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what he just said. he laughs at your expression, leaning in closer, moving a piece of hair from your face.

“tell me if you want me to stop” he whispers as he continues to slowly close the gap between your faces, as you lips brush against each other,

“HEY what’s going on here?” you hear atsumu’s voice, followed by suna reenacting vomitting noises. you hear osamu curse under his breath, leaning back into his chair, gumbling toward his brother.

the day ends. you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at lunch. would this change your friendship? what if he doesn’t want to talk to you after that? oh my god, did he know you had feelings for him?

you snapped out of your thoughts as you feel someone’s hand take yours.

osamu.

he smiles as he greets you. he quickly takes his hand back again after he realizes you haven’t said anything. “i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. i-i just-”

before you could react, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in for a kiss. he drops his bag as he melts into the kiss as well. the heat from your cheeks spread through your body as you feel him bring you closer with his hands on your waist, deepening the kiss.

for a moment, time really did stop. this is the feeling you’ve always yearned for, the itch you couldn’t scratch, it was all happening. you both pull away, out of breath to meet eyes. a smile spreads across his face as he leans his forehead on yours.

you close your eyes, sighing contently, taking in the moment, the moment that osamu was fully yours. “you don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to do that” you say, catching your breath.

“me too” is all he says as he brings his hands to cup your cheeks, pecking your nose.

wordlessly, he takes your hand in his and starts your route home, but takes a turn in the opposite direction last second. you shoot him a confused look and he flashes you a smirk, “let’s take the long way home”

you feel your feels heat for what felt like the hundredth time this night, as you nod and he pulls you into one of the best nights of your life.

once you arrive at your house, he pulls you to face him, pulling you into another deep kiss. you smile against his lips, taking this last moment together for the night. once you pull away, you take his hands in yours, looking down.

“look osamu, i’ve liked you ever since we were kids and now that you’re here, doing this, i-i’m just so happy-”

he cuts you off with another kiss, smiling as he pulls away, “you talk too much” he says with a chuckle. you hit his shoulder lightly and watch as he feigns being hurt, stumbling backward.

“now get inside, i’ll see you tomorrow morning” he nudges you toward the door. with a final smile and wave, you open the door, planting a kiss on his cheek before entering and shutting the door. you close your eyes as you comprehend the events of today.

he was yours. years and years of waiting, yearning, wishing he’d return your affections were finally happening.

you couldn’t help squeal into your stuffed animals that night like a teenage girl in those cheesy romcoms. you sigh happily as you let yourself fall into a slumber, remember the feeling of his lips on yours, wanting nothing more than to wake up the next morning to see him again.

when the morning arrived, you were ecstatic. jumping out of bed to do your hair and makeup, something you never usually did, but today was different. today you were osamu’s girlfriend.

once you’d finished getting ready, you check your phone to see a text from him,

samu <3: early practice this morning, won’t be able to pick you up

you frown slightly, but dismiss the text, knowing you’ll see him at school. you pack your bag and head on your way.

once you arrived to the school, you see osamu, sitting on the bench with his back toward you. you feel your heart race as you make your way to him. for a moment everything seemed perfect,

but that moment ended when you see him embrace his ex girlfriend, pulling her in for a kiss.

your world stopped, but this time not in a good way. you see the way his lips melt into hers, just like they did with yours last night. you see the way his eyes sparkle, something they’d lacked after your kiss. you felt like the air from your lungs had been knocked out, making you nauseous. you put a hand on your chest, trying to make sure your heart was even still beating.

as he intertwines his fingers with hers, kissing her forehead again, you watch him take out his phone. soon you feel your phone vibrate as you quickly take it out.

you shut your eyes before you read it, hoping it was your mind telling you to wake up from this terrible nightmare. but as you opened it, you heart drops as you grip your phone.

samu <3: thanks for comforting me last night, you’re a great friend.

#omg this is trash im sorry #osamu angst #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #osamu smau #miya osumu #osamu smut #osamu fluff #atsumu x reader

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Till You Make It | F.W | CH5

Fake It | The Masterlist

Warnings // SMUT 18+, Hufflepuff!Reader, implied sex, teasing, lingerie, relationship, consent, sexting??

a/n // So im posting this one a day early as there is a chapter 5.5 coming out tomorrow which is pretty much just pure smut <3 once again i have to thank @starlightweasley my partner in crime for being my muse while writing this!!

When Fred left that evening after dinner, the under-the-table events still plagued your mind as you threw your head back against your pillow out of desperation. Fred made it very hard for you to concentrate on anything other than him or the feel of his fingers. Substituting his hands for your own didn’t help either, you fell asleep with your lips parted in half pleasure and half agony from missing the man who had been plaguing your thoughts. Chest heaving, shivers running down your spine and fingertips moving only left you breathless for him. You thought that maybe that desperate feeling would leave you when you woke the next morning, to be left in the night but as you walked to a day of appointments, your mind was truly somewhere else, somewhere with him. Each fleeting thought as you hem a skirt or completed your seams only brought you to feel his hot breath fanning against your skin or his stupidly delicate touch, having to take a deep breath just to pull you back to the reality that he wasn’t right there, he was across the street no doubt laughing and joking away like the memory of last night wasn’t plaguing his every thought.

You were far from the truth. He wanted to storm into your shop like the first time he kissed you, hearing only your choked back moans like a sweet symphony in his brain. George tried to get his attention, only holding it for a few moments before he was distracted again. Fred was meant to be stacking shelves, but the sight of a current Gryffindor quidditch player donning their sweater made all of his thoughts of you race back.

<< Morning, doll x

>> Fred Weasley I hate you.

<< No kisses? What have i done :(( x

>> You left me frustrated you absolute git

<< There’s no reason to call me that, petal x

<< I could’ve left you much worse off x

He watched as the typing bubble flashed up on the screen before disappearing a few times. Smirking to himself as he locked his phone, pushing it into his pocket knowing full well what he’d done. You were sighing to yourself as you sipped on the now lukewarm coffee, tapping out the perfect message to retort back at him, but nothing seemed to fit, no matter what you say he would have the perfect witty response to chime back. It hit you, if he wanted to play games you would play along.

>> Wanna see the set I’m working on Freddie? x

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, as he pushed a box of spare products onto the shelf in the stockroom. He checked the message only to feel his heartbeat about to burst out of his chest as it raced that bit quicker. He was alone but the thought of anyone just walking in or catching a glimpse of the picture on his phone drove his feet to his office as he tapped out his message to you.

<< I’d love that xx

You smiled to yourself as you laid out the garment on the table for him, making sure that it was smoothed out to perfection before snapping the perfectly innocent picture to send to him. You knew that he was expecting more skin, a lot more skin in fact. In his head he was about to receive a tempting photo of his girl, for his eyes only.

>> (1) Attachment.

He tapped open the picture with shaky fingers, unaware of what to expect when the image flashed up on his screen, eyes gazing over the lacy fabric not on your body but on the worktop. Tease. He quickly realised what you were doing, huffing to himself as he let his head fall back against the headrest of his arm chair. If you kept up this teasing to and fro you’d drive each other mad by the end of the night.

<< Why don’t you put it on for me, petal? xx

Two hours had ticked by since his last text to you. He found himself checking every notification, praying it was you, even considering sending another message but he stopped himself. He tried as best he could to focus on his work; taking stock, doing orders and serving customers. Another hour had passed and still no response. He couldn’t ignore the friction in his boxers at the mere thought of you, mind running wild once again, his thoughts alone pulled him through to lunchtime when he could finally see you.

The way he stormed into the shop, seeking you out in the back room, eyes dark with hunger as he stared you down made your heart flutter. His brow was furrowed and he looked like a man who was starved. You liked the effect that your little charade seemed to have on him, biting the inside of your lip to stop you from smiling.

“I don't find your little game funny, love." You simply cocked an eyebrow up at him before continuing with your sewing, the whirring of your machine filling the thick sexual tension in the air. There was an undeniable chemistry between you both, that was visible from the way you latched onto each other so quickly. You loved to see this side of him, less dominant but yet so desperate and needy.

“Uh huh,” you hummed nonchalantly as you pulled the material in the right direction, sending the machine whirring once more. Giving him the silent treatment was enough to send him wild. The sound of your machine muffled his steps as he drew closer to you, gentle touches over your exposed shoulder sending shivers along your skin. Your body wanted to give into him, let him have you right across your desk right here and now but the game was all too fun.

“The silent treatment, really doll?” You looked up at him with a smile as he uttered those words, your hand moving to hold his, pulling yourself up from the chair to fall into his hold, staring up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. You pushed yourself up onto your toes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, breathing in the calming scent of his cologne and you did so.

“Didn’t you like the lingerie, Freddie?” you asked him innocently as you bat your eyelashes, he leaned in to try and kiss you properly but you quickly pressed a finger to his lips, pushing him away cheekily as you giggled.

“Buy me dinner first at least.”

And he did, he bought you several dinners in fact. You made sure to dress up nice for him, let him get hot and needy before making him wait. It had now been a month of torture for the poor boy, letting him get by on no more than kisses and a few lingering touches. You wanted him to feel that same way you felt after the night at Lee’s. You swore he would’ve stopped you by now, out of pure frustration but he continued enduring his own torture just as much as you continued dishing it out.

Being invited to watch the Star Seeker’s last game of the season and coincidentally the last game before her wedding, filled you with pure joy. You invited Fred, not that he needed inviting telling him that it would be a nice date, to which the smitten boy agreed. You held hands in the stands as you both cheered alongside George, who was beaming with pride, listening to Lee commentating the game over the arena speakers.

“You know Freddie, this reminds me a lot of our Hogwarts days... I miss being up in the commentators box, it had a much better view, though for what I was looking at, I think I’m in the best seats now.” You leaned up to press a kiss to his ear as you spoke, causing him to chuckle as you moved to press your lips to his, only to be met by his finger against your lips as he mimicked how you had treated him in your shop all those weeks ago.

“Just one kiss?” You pouted at him as he pulled you into a kiss, your heart leaping. Here Fred was, kissing you in front of everyone; his friends, family, press and every soul in the stadium but he didn’t care. The whole world could watch but he could only ever focus on you.

It had been a week now since that event, Fred was still on edge with all of the teasing, he had grown to expect It now, waking up to a cheeky message or a voicemail, That was if he wasn’t waking up to your arms wrapped around him. He was smitten by this point, absolutely enamoured by your very presence, he would do anything to make you smile.

“Joining Lee and I tonight, Freddie?” George asked with a small knock to his brother’s office door. He pondered on it before it struck him. If Lee was out, you were all alone, the thought made his heart skip a beat. The days you’d both stopped yourselves, making out like teenagers on the bed before realising your best friend was only in the other room always seemed to kill the mood.

“You know what, I don’t think I should be mixing with alcohol… A month sober and all.” Fred pled a fair case to his brother, a feasible enough excuse over the want to have a night with his girl. Even that sounded nice in his head, you being his girl. George nodded, suggesting a dinner instead, to which Fred shook his head again with a small laugh.

“For the love of god, go out, get smashed and please get Lee laid… he’s driving me mental.” George nodded, laugh falling from his lips as his hand reached out to pull the door closed behind him as he went to leave, mumbling a small ‘noted’ and gesturing a salute from behind the glass.

As the evening fell, the rain came with it - a light dreary drizzle and not heavy downpours but still rain nevertheless. You managed to beat the raindrops before they fell, returning to what you called home to strip off the day’s work clothes. Between appointments you’d finally managed to finish and perfect the gorgeous red set that you had started working on all those months ago, discarded on your dressing table as you pulled on a fresh pair of joggers and Fred’s sweater which he had let you keep in all this time, grateful for the company of his scent as you realised this may be the first time you had been alone in the night since you’d left Joe.

A knock at the front door made your heart pound out of your chest. Half of you wanted to ignore it but the curious half wanted to see who it was. Peeping through the looking glass to be met with the messy ginger locks you loved so much prompted you to pretty much swing the door open and jump into the unsuspecting boy’s arms, your legs wrapping around his torso.

"Hi handsome, thought you were going out with George and Lee?" You peppered kisses all over his face as you held his face in your hands, fingers splayed against his cold skin yet his actions were more than inviting. You soon found your back pressed against the wall, soft quick kisses soon replaced with deep, passionate ones, lips locked together as if your lives depended on it. His foot kicked the door closed his hands keeping your thighs in place as he asserted his dominance over you.

"I wanted you. Fuck, I've wanted you for weeks now, doll." You moaned and hummed against his lips with every kiss. It was electric the way his fingers touched you, everything from the cool sensation of the wall against your back to the heat of his shallow breaths fanning against your neck. You were nervous, wanting nothing but absolute perfection with the angel you cared so deeply about.

Fred really was an angel to you, he helped you feel like a person again.

“Please say something,” Fred whispered, forehead now pressed against your own. You hadn’t realised just how deep in thought you were until he spoke again, you could have swore you heard his voice crack ever so slightly as he uttered those words of vulnerability. You nudge your nose against his with a smile that leaves a reassured sigh escaping his lips just before you move once more, pulling him into another kiss, immediately feeling him relax as he closes the space between the both of you, effectively trapping you against the wall.

“Isn’t it obvious that I want you too, Fred?” He chuckled, holding your weight in his arms as he carried you through the halls to your bedroom. He pretended to drop you twice, both times you hit him on his chest, laughing together in the most gorgeous way, creating a harmony of giggles. Each time he feigned your fall from his arms, droplets of rain fell from his soaking hair onto your face.

“Oh yeah? Obvious is it?” His large hands gave your ass a playful squeeze before placing you on the bed. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, pushing his wet hair back and out of his face. You caught how his eyes stared so lovingly at you, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he gave you his signature toothy grin. You stand from the bed, grabbing a towel that was hooked over the door to dry his gorgeous ginger locks.

"Sit down, let's get you dried." He blushed as he sat down on your mattress, tilting his head up towards you ever so slightly as you find your place between his legs while his hands rested gently on the backs of your thighs and you swore to yourself that you had never felt such fireworks linger upon your skin as they did with Fred Weasley. Those hands you had admired for so long, those hands that gripped onto his bat tightly during your school years and hit away bludgers and all had you swooning as you gripped the towel. You draped the towel over his head, giving his hair a rough towel dry and letting your fingertips press against his scalp gently through the soft fabric. When you left him to go and hang the slightly damp towel up once more, his gaze caught a glimpse of something bright in the corner of his eye. Upon further inspection from afar, that something bright was a beautiful red lace that had been thrown on your dressing table in a moment of relief after you had finished it. He stood, making his way to them out of curiosity, his fingers taking hold of the soft lace, immediately recognising the feel and the pattern. His breath hitched, gazing upon the sensual piece that had nonchalantly been draped upon your dresser, his gaze hadn’t left the fabric and he hadn’t even noticed you were staring at him with a lingering look in your eye, your heart beat beginning to pick up once more and this time it wasn’t because he was pretending to drop you.

"It's the material you first kissed me on." You pointed out, holding your hands together in front of your stomach that was now experiencing somersaults and that familiar feeling between your thighs welcomed itself once more as you swallowed thickly.

"I know… Is this for m–"

"Yes."

"Put it on then, petal. Do it for me." You could have sworn your cheeks were as red as the lace he was handing you, gripping onto the soft fabric with shaky hands. This was far from how you could have ever imagined your first time with Fred to have come about, a rain-soaked boy showing up at your door and taking your breath away with his kiss. The months of teasing were finally catching up and you had to take a moment to process it all as you retreated to your bathroom. Part of you wanted to change in front of him but more of you wanted it to be a surprise and if you were honest to yourself, part of you needed a moment before you faced him. To look at the reflection of a woman you hadn’t recognised in a long time and say ‘it’s okay’ because it was okay. This was Fred… it was Fred and you, no one else.

There was something different about the way you pulled the straps onto your bare shoulders, the way your hair frames your face as you dressed. A smile spread across your lips and you blushed to yourself, how long had it been since you had felt like this? Something like this was truly paradise felt on earth amidst the darkness you had long been suffering within. Joe wasn’t here, you reminded yourself as you exhaled and glanced towards the door and you felt reassured by your inner thoughts.

He had begun to pace about your room as he waited for you to return, feeling an unfamiliar wave in his stomach. Never in his life had he been nervous about intimacy with a woman, but when it came to you he couldn’t help the fluttery feeling that consumed him with every step. Fred had to remind himself that it was you, not anyone else, not Cherry, his exes or one of his lame one night stands. Lastly, it wasn’t the woman he had been pining for ever since he could remember… the one who chose his brother instead of him. It was a woman who he truly felt something for, a something that he didn’t want to ruin. He hadn’t even noticed your return, staring out of the window as he was consumed by his own thoughts. Your arms snaking around his waist as you pressed yourself into his back, snapped him away from his feelings of nerves and self doubt because he had you there.

“We still don’t have to do this, you know.” You whispered softly as your cheek pressed against his damp t-shirt, his hands coming to cover yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze as he let out a deep exhale. He didn’t have to worry around you, he didn’t have to fear that it was Cherry’s touch masked as yours. He knew that it was you in the way he could have sworn your hearts beat together. There were no words that could have ever described the way you made him feel.

“I want this.” he mumbled, as he shook his head, mostly at the way a leech like Cherry still was able to plague his thoughts in his most vulnerable moments. Turning in your arms, your eyes meet his face which is plastered with a deep smile, biting the inside of your cheek when you realise that you are stood half-naked but pressed against the fully clothed man. Against the man who had plagued your daydreams years ago and now your thoughts at night. He took your hand in his, stepping away for a moment before lifting your arm over your head to make you twirl in front of him. The sight of you took his breath away, solidifying the thought in his brain that you truly were a goddess. Fathoming that you were his to kiss and hold made his heart race out of his chest.

“You’re beautiful.” He managed to only just choke out the compliment as his other hand found your jaw to pull you into a kiss. Nothing had ever felt so right to him than the crave of intimacy with you right now, you let him guide your bodies, your skin now flush against the cool sheets while he leant over you. Standing up briefly he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned torso that made you feel weak, counting yourself lucky that you were laying down otherwise you would have surely buckled at the knees.

Fred knew that the minute he had the opportunity to, he would take his time in worshiping every dip and curve of your body, no matter how long or tedious the process was. His hot open mouthed kisses started at your jaw, it was intoxicating to feel him mumble praise between each kiss, telling you about just how breath-taking you were to him and how much influence you had on him. His kisses along your neck left marks not to claim you but to show you just how much he cared without having to say the words. His lips travelled down to pepper kisses down the valley of your breasts, his slow pace made you grab his face with both hands.

“Don’t be a tease, Freddie.” He chuckled, his hands wrapping around your wrists, pulling them away from his face so that he could press a sweet kiss to the insides of your palms, the hint of a smirk hanging off his lips as he did so. His fingertips grazed over your skin as they ran down your arms, sending goosebumps firing over your skin. His laugh sent every good feeling of pleasure through your veins. His hands went to his belt, immediately he thought of all the ways that this could go wrong, the image of your pained expression and the way you cried into his chest sinking his heart once more. He pondered for a moment before he asked, hardly above a whisper, ‘do you want to?’ before gesturing to the belt buckle.

You felt your heart stop, remembering how you had stopped yourself going this far before, feeling a sense of calm fall over you as you reached to undo the belt buckle. You knew that this gesture alone was enough for you to realise that Fred really did care about your comfort, he wanted you to feel as if you were in control of the situation, not forced or pressured but completely at your own free will to pull away or stop but you didn’t. You slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops before setting it down on the bed, smiling up at him.

“No more teasing, yeah?” You nodded, pressing your lips to his again as your hands found the back of his head, giving the now damp hair a gentle tug.

No more teasing.

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @pansydaisy @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @darthwheezely @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @pigwidgexn-deactivated20210125 @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001 @asthmax @sarcasticallywitty15 @whizboingies @rosietoesy

#Fake It Fic #Till You Make It Fic #Fake It Till You Make It #george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter #fred and george #george weasley fic #harry potter fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x y/n #george and fred weasley #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #harry potter writing

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kim-seungmine · 5 years

Text

give my heart a chance

title: give my heart a chance

characters: (fem) reader x han jisung of stray kids.

genres: romance, fluffy as hell (i just want them to kiss so bad!), college au, friends to lovers au, composer/music scorer!jisung, assistant director!reader

word count: 6.9k words

warnings: cursing, a little suggestive i guess? there’s a lot of sexual references but nothing too wild, lots of (attempted) flirting, jisung is whipped as hell, it gets very wordy sometimes IM SORRY.

synopsis: you and jisung have these theories about love, and there’s only one way to prove yourselves right: testing them on each other.

a/n: writing this gave me so much joy, and writing from jisung’s perspective is super fun. lastly, sorry for the lame ass title, but i hope you’ll enjoy! please tell me there aren’t many grammatical/spelling errors i’ve read this over and over again.

Verse 1: “Date me, so I can write love songs about you.”

Han Jisung has a lot of ambitions. Being the world's best composer, buying a whole island for himself, and flexing his Rolex watches are on his list, but for now finishing his demo for the upcoming production meeting will be enough.

Maybe he's not so ambitious after all.

The door clicks open and reveals his roommate Lee Minho, his hair disheveled but eyes twinkling. Jisung raises his eyebrow. "Did you pass out on the street or something? What time is it?"

It's now Minho's turn to raise his eyebrow. "I had this amazing date but to put it simply, your man got laid."

Jisung sighs and knocks his head on the desk. "Lucky you."

"Your time will come, my friend," Minho assures him flatly, lying on the couch with a contented sigh. "What time is the meeting?"

"9 A.M." Jisung yawns, lifting his head to glance at his watch. "Fuck, I'm late."

Jisung doesn't know why he struggles to finish this project. His senior Bang Chan asked him to join his graduation project and help with the scoring. Jisung is willing to do anything that boosts his resume, but so far the project is only causing him headache. He's Han Jisung, the best student in his batch who almost always forgets to finish his assignments but always manages to ace them. He also sings and raps—even freestyling. He's the musical genius. Why is this happening to him?

Minho mumbles a sleepy good luck before passing out. Jisung is about pack his laptop when his phone vibrates. Your name appears on his screen, making him groan.

"Han Jisung you're late," you deadpan before he gets to say hello.

"I'm on my way."

“Get your ass here in 10 minutes or..."

"Or what?"

He can hear you tapping your pen on the table. "...I have nothing to threaten you with."

Jisung chuckles. Do you know how cute you are even over the phone? "I'll be there in 10."

Chan and the rest of the crew are already inside the room when Jisung arrives. He slowly pulls up a chair beside you, trying his best to ignore your glare.

"About the wooden table we wanted last week, have we got it?" Chan asks.

Kim Seungmin, the head of production design team, nods his head. "The color is a bit different from your moodboard because the one you wanted was slightly more expensive than expected, is this still okay?" He pauses to show Chan a picture on his phone. The director examines it before passing Seungmin's phone to you. "What do you think, Y/N?"

"It's a bit different but still fits the overall mood in my opinion. A little bit warmer, but I don't think it will disturb the ambience."

Chan smiles. "Hmm, I agree. Good job, Seungmin. And that's it, everyone! Thank you for coming! We only have 3 more scenes to film so hang in there, okay?"

The whole room lets out sighs of relief, leaving the room one by one.

"Jisung, can I talk to you?"

"Just curse at me. You don't have to be so nice."

Chan laughs. "You know why I asked you to help me, right? I know what you're capable of, so tell me, what's bothering you?"

Jisung pulls out the film script from his backpack, showing Chan the parts he's circled with red marker. "I finished the scoring for other scenes, but I can never seem to think of anything that fits this one scene."

He has played the scene in his head over and over. The man confesses his feelings to the woman he loves dearly, but also says goodbye to her. The woman only nods, lips curling into a small smile, and waves him goodbye.

It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that? People who love each other stay together unless their parents disagree or someone dies. Or at least, they try to be together until the feelings fade. Why would they say goodbye before even starting anything?

Chan stands up, patting Jisung on his back as he’s making his way to the door. “I don’t want to limit your creativity or make you create music only based on my vision, but here’s something to think about: sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice. See you next week, kids!”

Both of you slump into your chairs the moment he’s out of sight. “I hate it when he’s being cryptic like that. Why can’t he just tell you what he wants? He’s the director anyways, everything has to be according to his vision.” You turn to Jisung who’s scratching his head. “Please tell me you understood what he said.”

“I understand,” Jisung answers. “Well, theoretically. Do you?”

“No one will truly understand it the way Chan does, but I understand the message he wants to tell.”

“Will you just help me then?” Jisung begs. “We don’t have much time left and I’m sure you’ll kill me if I submit the demo a minute late so let’s make our lives easier and help each other out, shall we?”

Jisung does need help—especially since you’ll be extremely critical—but he also wants to spend more time with you. He doesn’t know if Minho going on dates motivates him to do the same, and that’s what he wants to figure out.

“Okay,” you say. “But the moment you annoy me too much I’ll leave you to rot alone”

Jisung smiles so brightly his cheeks hurt. “When do you finish class today?”

It wasn’t love at first sight. The first few weeks working with you was hard that he wanted to take a revenge on you by asking Minho to break your heart. His roommate specializes in breaking people’s hearts, but he figured you would break Minho’s heart instead.

After a while, Jisung would rather you break his heart than anybody else’s.

“I hope you like Americano,” Jisung says. You avert your gaze to two cups of Americano on the table, nodding as you sit in front of him. “Thanks. Is the cheesecake mine too?”

He chuckles, sliding the plate to you. “It’s mine, but you can have it. I wanted to buy you one but I don’t know what you like.”

“You dared to assume that I like Americano but couldn’t decide what cake I would like?”

Jisung wonders whether he should be honest with you.

“I almost did,” he confesses. “But buying you cake feels too personal, isn’t it? This will feel like a date.”

You unexpectedly pout, and Jisung almost has a heart attack. “Stop flirting, you’re so bad at it.”

“Once I start flirting for real, you’ll be madly in love with me in 10 minutes.”

You slide the plate back to him. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” you sigh. “Let’s start. You’re the one who wants me to help you get your shit done.”

Jisung opens his laptop to show you his drafts. “I honestly don’t know if this scene is supposed to be sad,” he explains, playing one of them. You listen carefully, glancing at him every few seconds. When the music stops, you close his laptop.

“Do you believe in love, Han Jisung?”

Jisung stops slicing his cheesecake, puts his fork down, and looks into your eyes. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just answer me.”

“Yes? I’ve been in love before, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think the man loves the woman?”

“He does.”

You look satisfied with his answer. For a few minutes, you don’t ask him any other question, just sipping your coffee while examining your surroundings. “That’s it? You asked me all those big questions then just stopped?”

“Your theories are interesting,” you point out. “You believe in love and thinks that the couple needs to be together, but you’re not thinking from their perspective yet.”

“What’s your theory then?” he asks.

“My theories… about love?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind sharing.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I think it will be fun. Well, this is what I’ve always believed in: boys like you will never be heartbroken.”

“Boys like me?”

“Boys like you, who date just for the sake of dating itself or getting laid.”

Jisung panics, waving his hands in front of your face. “Y/N I’m not some fuckboy I swear to God.”

“I know you’re not,” you clarify. “Boys like you just don’t think too much about anything, don’t really use your feelings. You date you when you want to date, break up when you want to break up, stay single for a while then starting to feel empty and thinking that dating someone is the only solution.”

“Aren’t we all like that?! Tell me you’ve never thought of going on Tinder when you’re lonely!” he protests. “For a film major, you have a lot of time.”

“I have to observe people in order to survive,” you laugh. “Where do you think I get ideas? It’s from other people.”

Jisung is still forming a smart comment in his head when you tilt your head, flashing him a smile so sweet like you didn’t just indirectly diss him. “Your turn. What’s your theory?”

It’s kind of hard to believe, but Jisung has quite a lot of theories about love. He’s not what you’ll call experienced, but he knows enough to come up with his own theories. “Which one hurts more, dumping someone or getting dumped?”

“Getting dumped, of course. That’s not even a theory anymore.”

Jisung wiggles his index finger. “It’s the other way around. Before you break up with someone, you think of hundreds of reasons—whether blaming yourself or the other person. You’ll keep thinking about things you hate about them and shitty experiences with them before coming up with a perfect breakup scenario. And the whole process, Princess, is agonizing.”

“Wow,” you breathe out, amazed. “You’re something else.”

“Jisung-ah!”

Minho jogs to your table, stopping when he realizes that Jisung isn’t alone. “Thank God I found you,” he whispers urgently. “Listen, I know you’re in the middle of a date but this is emergency.”

“What is it?”

“Are you coming home tonight?” Minho asks.

Jisung frowns. “Of course I am. I need to sleep so bad.”

“Are you sure? If so, then…” Minho proceeds to type something on his phone before passing it to Jisung. The latter coughs at the content, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and handing it to Minho. “If you lose it I’m going to kill you,” he threatens.

“Are you sure you’re coming—”

“Don’t worry, he’s definitely coming home. I’m not sleeping with him if that’s what you’re implying.”

Minho laughs, bowing playfully at you as he backs away. “Good choice!” he yells. “Have fun, you two!”

You giggle while Jisung curses under his breath. “He asked you for a condom, didn’t he?” Once again, you casually smile at him, eyes twinkling. Jisung slowly nods, and you burst into a hearty laugh. “I caught you carrying condoms in your wallet after you insisted that you’re not a fuckboy. Nice move, Han Jisung.”

Jisung groans.

“Are you done?” Jisung asks over the phone. After your “date,” it’s become a routine for him to visit you at the bookstore you work at to discuss the project (while subtly flirting with you because he wants to see you getting all sassy).

“Not yet,” you answer lowly. “My manager is here. You can come inside and wait.”

He forces his legs to walk faster and enters the bookstore. You wave at him from the cashier, gesturing at him to sit on one of the benches. You continue to serve the remaining customers, smiling at Jisung once in a while. He finds himself returning your smile with a bigger one, and he wonders how to convince you that he’s not as bad and shallow as you think.

A crazy idea pops into his mind, causing his palms to sweat. But he wants to do it, to at least try and see how you react. Jisung’s heart races when you say goodbye to your manager and approach him. You nudge his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

You shiver as soon as you open the door. “Where do you want to work?”

Jisung gestures at you to keep walking, giving you his phone and airpods. “You can just listen and give me feedback. I’ll edit once I get home, you must be tired.”

You keep repeating the song throughout the way to the bus station. You turn to Jisung when you’re done, punching his arm lightly. “Well done, this is much better. You can actually show it to Chan.”

“No way. Really?”

You press play once again, bopping your head to the soft beats. “The man tells the woman he loves her after a long time. It’s a happy moment, an achievement. Then he bids her farewell because he knows—both of them know—that the relationship will end badly. It’s sad, but relieving because at least they know what they feel about each other. The music is not sad, but it’s not happy either. It’s hopeful because the characters are going to start another journey, although without each other.”

“But you end it with that little piano sounds, so there’s a tinge of sadness left,” you continue. “And that’s wonderful. I think Chan will like it a lot.”

Jisung lets out the breath he doesn’t know he was holding. “You interpret it better than I ever will,” he mutters. “Thank you. I hope Chan won’t fire me now.”

“He won’t. He loves you and knows you’re talented,” you tell him. “Will you help me for my future projects? We have to create a short film for finals. I haven’t told you this, but I really love your style. I wish I could hear your songs more often.”

“I-I could just, y-you know, write you songs,” Jisung stutters. This is it. He has to tell you now or he will regret it for the rest of his life.

“Huh?”

“I can write you all the songs you want. I can even write songs about you.”

“What songs? Like diss tracks?”

“I take requests, so I can write you a diss track if you want me to. And I can definitely write love songs about you.”

“How is that possible? You’re unbelievable.”

Jisung stops, clearing his throat before focusing his eyes on you. “Date me,” he enunciates. “Date me, so I can write love songs about you. Maybe later you’ll realize that boys like me aren’t always fuckboys. At least, I’m not. And I’ll give you the privilege to break my heart. I know you can do it.”

You gape at him. “You’re asking me out just to test our theories?”

Great, you think that it’s a stupid idea. Of course it is, why would you want to date him just to—

“Okay,” you add. “I’ll go out with you.”

“Holy shit,” Jisung yelps. “I thought you would beat me up.”

Leaning on the lamppost, you wink at him. “It’ll be fun. But I’ll break all of your bones the moment you start disrespecting me.”

Jisung stands straighter at your tone. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, what now? You’re taking me home?” you suggest.

“If you’ll let me.”

You extend your hand, and Jisung quickly takes it before you change your mind. The two of you walk in comfortable silence until you reach your neighborhood. “Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?” Jisung shyly asks, tightening his grip on your hand.

“Sure!” you chirp, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Good night, Jisung.”

“Good night Y/N.”

You give him a small wave, a cheerful smile plastered on your face.

Jisung waves back, unable to erase the stupid grin on his face. Oh, you’re so going to break his heart, and he won’t even try to stop you.

Verse 2: “I just want to be yours, completely yours.”

“You did not just tell me you like horror movies.”

The two of you are currently standing in front of the self-ticket machine, bickering over what movie you should watch. In turns out, your movie taste clash; Jisung lives for horror movies while you despise them. People behind him start snickering, so Jisung pulls you away from the queue.

“While we’re at it, tell me what kind of movies you watch,” he begins, trying to hide his amusement at your frustration. “I love everything, except for horror. But the ones I often watch may put you to sleep.”

“And now, if you don’t want to watch It 2, what do you want to watch?”

“Nothing really interests me,” you express. “It’s fine, let’s just watch this. I’ll pick the movie next time.”

Jisung beams. “My princess is so understanding,” he coos.

You roll your eyes at him, but not pushing him away when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “How do you not cringe everytime you call me that.”

He pokes your cheek. “Because I know you secretly like it, and I’ll do anything that makes you happy.”

“Wow, you sound like you’re really in love with me,” you blurt out, completely unaware of the effect your words have on him. Who knows? Maybe I will, soon.

Three hours later, Jisung figures that you’re already playing with his feelings. During the entire movie, you didn’t flinch nor close your eyes. You didn’t even hold his hand for support (to be very honest, Jisung was quite disappointed at this).

“Y/N.”

You get startled at his voice, automatically stopping on your track. “Now everything startles me.” You clutch your chest in shock. “I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“For someone who doesn’t like horror, you endured everything well inside the theater.”

“Curiosity always gets the best of me.”

“You could’ve chosen another movie, and I would be okay with that. Next time don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’s something you love,” you explain. “I know you won’t force me to do things I don’t like, and I won’t force you either, but if it’s something that I can still tolerate then I don’t mind. It’s not like we can’t compromise, right?”

There you go, saying thoughtful things that warms Jisung’s heart so nonchalantly. He only hums in response, picking up his pace since you’ve started running. “I’m running late!” you half-yell before sprinting towards the bookstore.

After a few blocks, both of you arrive at the bookstore, almost running out of breath. Jisung fixes your hair in a haste. “I’ll pick you up later? Watch another movie, maybe? A funny one so you’ll be able to sleep?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just call you if Pennywise appears in my room.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re scarier than him, Princess, don’t worry.”

Jisung is prepared for a punch on his shoulder or strings of cussing words from you.

But you reward him with a peck on his cheek instead.

It’s been two hours since your shift was supposed to end, but Jisung hasn’t heard anything from you. His messages are unread and you won’t pick up his call. Minho watches his friend paces back and forth in the living room.

“Dude just pick her up or go to her place, you’re stressing me out!”

“I don’t know if she will like it. She did say I didn’t need to pick her up.”

“Are you really dating her? You’ve never been like this before.”

Jisung plops onto the sofa, massaging his temples. Minho won’t understand, especially since he’s the one who totally fits your “boys like you” criteria. “I am, but the whole thing is different.”

“Like, how?” Minho deadpans.

“We’re dating to test our theories about each other. About love.”

“So you two are just fooling around?”

“No!” Jisung insists. “It’s not like that. We’re dating, but I have to admit that things are getting more serious than I expected.”

Minho rubs his chin. “Isn’t that what you want? You seem to really like her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

The doorbell suddenly rings. Minho opens the door, surprised to see you there. “Y/N?” he gasps. “Are you okay? Are you crying?”

Jisung’s ears perk up at the word crying and he immediately rushes to you. He cradles your face, examining you from head to toe. “I was so worried Y/N. What the hell happened?” he questions. Minho grabs his phone and wallet from the buffet, mouthing that he’ll give the two of you some time alone.

You circle your arms around Jisung’s waist after Minho closes the door, wetting his sweatshirt with your tears. Jisung automatically takes you into his embrace, stroking your hair in the hopes of calming you down. “Some old man tried to make a pass at me,” you sob. “I almost slapped him but my friends stopped me. The owner has banned him from coming.”

Jisung tightens his hold on you, guilt starting to overtake him. He should have come to you, he should have just come to you. Why did he hesitate? “Motherfucker,” he splutters. “God—I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Why are you saying sorry?” you try to laugh. “I’m fine, Jisung. I’m just… mad. And a little bit scared, but I’m okay. Seriously though, men have no manners.”

“I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry. I hope it won’t ever happen again. I won’t let it happen, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

You snort, pulling away to pinch his cheeks. “Then who’s gonna protect you? I know you watch horror movies well but everything else scares you.”

Jisung’s lips stretch into a loving smile, wiping your tears with his hands. “I’ll try my best. You can trust me,” he says. “Should I take you home now?”

You seem to consider his offer before burying your face in chest again. Jisung hopes you can’t hear his heart beating violently due to the close proximity. “Jisung, you okay?” you hum. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

Of course, he won’t be able to fool you.

“Yeah. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

“Can I sleep over?”

Jisung separates you from his body before you can hear his heart jumping out of its ribcage. “All I can think about is Pennywise now,” you sigh, searching for approval in his eyes. Jisung feels his legs weaken, so he squeezes your shoulders. “You sure? Do you feel comfortable sleeping in my room with Minho sleeping next door? Oh fuck it, why am I encouraging you to change your mind? Of course you can sleep over. You can trust me, and you can trust Minho too. And it’s not that I’ll even let him touch a strand of your hair!” he blabbers.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Minho’s name. “Lee Minho is hot, I don’t mind having him around.”

“You go around declaring that men have no manners and boys like me are fuckboys yet you don’t mind having Lee fucking Minho around?!”

Once again, you wrap your arms around his waist, and Jisung wastes no time in returning your hug although his eyes are angry now. “I have you, right? You’re not an asshole, you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jisung sighs in defeat, resting his chin on top of your head. “You’re impossible.”

After putting you to bed (with much difficulty because you kept commenting at how messy his room is), Jisung finds himself lying on the couch, staring at his room. Minho is already back and is now asleep (but not before he gave his roommate a whole warning to not say anything that can damage Jisung’s reputation).

Are you sleeping well? Are you still sad? Do you really think that Minho is hot or were you just playing with him?

His questions seem to reach your mind because seconds later, you slide the door open. You walk towards him, kneeling down to see him better. “JIsung-ah,” you call out softly. “Are you asleep?”

Jisung blinks, heat rising to his cheeks because you’re staring at him so intensely. “Not yet. What is it? You can’t sleep?”

“You can sleep inside, it’s cold out here,” you whisper. “It’s fine, I can sleep anywhere like a log.” He rubs your hand. “Go back to sleep.”

Jisung sits up when you don’t budge. “What if I also want you to be next to me?” you murmur, but he hears everything loud and clear. He carries you back inside his room with saying a word, hoping that this isn’t just a test he will fail.

He lays you down gently, which surprises himself since he tends to do everything in a rush. Jisung settles himself beside you, ready to finally sleep when you scoot closer and put your arms around his torso. “Thank you for today,” you say.

Jisung turns around to face you, slowly pulling you into his arms. “What did I do?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Being there for me,” you reply. “You didn’t doubt me, you didn’t blame me.”

Jisung lifts your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Why would I blame you? You really should’ve kicked that man’s ass.”

You break into a smile, and Jisung can’t hold himself anymore. The feeling of you in his embrace, your smile, the way you look at him, and the warmth of your words are driving him crazy. Jisung realizes it’s always been like that since the very first time he met you: you’ve always driven him crazy.

“Y/N.” He licks his lips. “I want to start over. I want us to date without thinking about the goddamn theories. I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be yours, completely yours. I’m not saying this only because I want to date, I only want to date you. And I don’t want to think about breaking up with you once we finish proving those theories. I won’t be able to handle it, I like you too much.”

You blink at him, staring at him long and intense Jisung feels like burning. You cup his face, tilting your head to peck him on the lips. It ends way too soon for his liking, but he already wants to faint.

“Aren’t I your Princess already? That means you’re automatically mine.”

Jisung chuckles, a huge burden is lifted off his chest as you snuggle to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Nice move, Han Jisung. Confessing to me when I’m in your bed and feeling sentimental as hell.”

“Sorry Princess, but you’re too irresistible. I just gotta make you mine right here, right now.”

“Go to sleep.”

“As you wish,” he sighs dreamily, peppering kisses on the top of your head until you fall asleep.

“Where are you? The food is ready.”

Jisung rummages through his pile of clothes on the floor, picking up a random black shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. His phone is on the bed, speaker on so he could actually get ready while you’re hollering at him.

“I’ll be on my way soon, Princess. Please don’t get mad,” he pleads.

“I took a day off from my part-time job for you, Jisung. But you’re acting like my time isn’t precious at all,” you answer, a little softer this time. Jisung chews the inside of his cheek; you’re right. He’s always late although he barely has time to meet you thesedays.

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but whenever he’s about to meet you, misfortunes always happen: his alarm doesn’t go off, he has an appointment he can’t cancel, or he’s too tired to get out of his bed. You get into petty arguments whenever you meet, but you forgive him every single time although Jisung himself knows he’s being stubborn. As he slips on his shirt, Jisung wonders if this is the beginning of the end.

“Okay,” you finally mumble. “Be careful.”

Jisung ends the call, running as fast as he can to your apartment complex. He considers taking the stairs, but remembers that you live on the 20th floor and decides to wait for the elevator. When he finally enters your flat, his eyes brim with tears.

You’re sleeping on the sofa, two portions of jjajjangmyeon along with a bowl of caramel popcorn are on the table. The television is on, ready to play Along with the Gods because Jisung wants to re-watch it tonight.

He’s the luckiest man on Earth yet he keeps disappointing you. It pains him how small mistakes may really destroy both of you.

Jisung crouches down, wiping his tears quickly before planting a kiss on your lips. You stir, opening your eyes.

“Hi,” you yawn. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“I missed you,” Jisung rasps. “So much.”

He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his tense muscles relaxing when you hum knowingly against his skin. “I missed you too. Wanna talk about it?” you offer, patting his back softly.

“About what?”

“You had a bad day.”

“And you’re sleepy,” he retorts. “Let’s just sleep.”

“Not before you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Jisung gives up, deciding to tell you how swamped he is with projects and how everything doesn’t seem to go his way. You listen to him—although through half-lidded eyes—giving him all suggestions and reassurance he doesn’t even know he needs.

Sometimes Jisung still thinks about the theories both of you wanted to prove months ago. He remembers how sure he was that yours was wrong. He was not an insensitive asshole.

Maybe he is now. And you don’t deserve it.

The thing is, Jisung is selfish. Losing you is something he fears the most, and now, surrounded by your warmth and soft caresses, he makes a silent promise to fix everything. To make himself worthy of you and your love again.

“Y/N.” He lifts himself up just enough to see your face, smiling at your sleepy face. “I love you.”

You freeze, eyes boring into his, trying to look for traces of lies. He stays in his position and waits for you to say something, anything, before his heart explodes and breaks into a million pieces.

“You do, now?” you reply, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Jisung waits for you to say it back, but you soon fall asleep in his arms.

Jisung had the best dream ever. He dreamed of going on vacation with you, and you always wore your brightest smile that he loved so much. But that wasn’t even the best part.

In his dream, you told him that you loved him.

In reality, Jisung wakes up to an empty bed. He checks his phone, relieved to see some messages from you.

princess : hv some cereal before you go, but pls wash the dishes

princess: dont forget to make the bed or ur dead

me: im a slave 4 u, ma’am, dont worry

The tone of your messages doesn’t change, and for now it’s enough to soothe his heart. Jisung makes the bed as you requested before examining your room. He’s seen all his photos you pinned on the wall, but now you’ve written comments underneath some of them.

Jisung’s eyes fall on a photo of him munching on his chocolate. The comment reads, “Please eat more, you’re too skinny.”

Another photo sees him sitting in front of his laptop with his headphones on. “You’re the coolest composer, you know that, right?”

Jisung recognizes the last photo as the one taken during one of your beach dates (in which he dragged Minho to be his designated photographer). You had begged him for a piggy back ride, and he eventually caved. Jisung flaunted his gummy smile as you pressed your lips on his right cheek. Underneath the photo, you wrote, “Jisung-ah, I’m so happy with you. Thank you.”

He wonders why you keep all these thoughts to yourself. These are your love letters for him, they beat all the “Han Jisung, I love you too” scenarios Jisung have inside his head. Why wouldn’t you just tell him that? Is it because he hasn’t been the best boyfriend thesedays?

After taking a photo of your “love shrine” (for blackmail purposes), Jisung leaves his notebooks inside one of your drawers, the ones filled with lyrics he wrote for you and about you. You wrote him the sweetest love letters, and he’s going to fulfill the promise he made when he asked you out.

You deserve to know every little detail of his feelings for you.

“Y/N… about last night… are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stop flicking through channels, dropping the remote to ponder Jisung’s question. “Yeah, I am,” you admit. “But we’ve fought enough. I don’t wanna waste my energy.”

“So you’re going to let me be a jerk?! What if I never snapped out of it? What if I never apologized to you? Or feel guilty?! You have to beat the shit out of me, Y/N. You can’t be this nice!”

You prop your chin on your knees, closing your eyes. “Last night, I planned to break up with you.”

Jisung pales at your confession. “Princess, I’m—”

“Please hear me out first,” you cut him off. “These past few weeks have been tough, I honestly thought you cheated on me. When you were late again last night, I told myself to end things with you. But then I fucking fell asleep, and then as soon as I saw you, I didn’t want to do it anymore. Plus you looked like a mess last night.”

“I kept wondering if we’re trapped in a toxic relationship. And it angered me. I hated myself for keep wanting to forgive you. When you told me that you love me… I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know whether you were being sincere or just caught up in the moment.”

Tears start rolling down your cheeks. “That’s why I didn’t answer. This morning, I decided to give you one last chance.”

“Did I… ruin it?” Jisung asks sheepishly, wiping your tears gently.

You shake your head. “I acted like nothing happened, but you still apologized. And complained about me not telling you about this sooner.”

“So that means…?”

“That means,” you begin. “Your theory is right. Dumping someone feels worse than getting dumped. Yesterday, memories of us fighting flooded my mind as I created a whole speech in my head about how much I hated you. It made me wanna explode, and that was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Resentment is tiring, but the moment you stepped into the living room I know I don’t hate you.”

Jisung heaves a sigh of relief, placing his hand on top of yours carefully. “And your theory is wrong. You broke my heart. You truly did. I told you I love you, and when you didn’t say it back… I felt horrible... although I know it’s all my fault. You have me wrapped around your finger, Princess, I hope you know that.”

“Anyways, I saw your lovely comments for me on the photos,” he teases, knowing you meant to keep it a secret.

“Fucking hell!” you yell. “I forgot to hide them!”

“Why don’t you tell me now, then.”

Your lips curl into a teasing smile. “If I tell you I love you now, will you kiss me?”

Before you even properly say it, Jisung is already hovering over you, cupping your face and crashing his lips on yours. It just occurs to him that he’s never kissed you like this; it was always light pecks here and there. Jisung doesn’t know how he survived that, because nothing beats feeling your lips moving against his. Nothing beats the feeling of you tugging his hair, sighing in contentment when he starts exploring your warm mouth. Jisung tries to remember every single sensation; the way you curl your arms around his neck, the way you keep pulling him down to you as if he’s not close enough, the way you squirm as he nibbles your bottom lip gently.

“I love you,” you whisper in between feverish kisses he leaves every now and then. He pauses, finally letting himself breathe. You hold stars in your eyes, and those stars are all for him to see. It’s overwhelming, so all Jisung does is pressing another kiss on your lips. Moments later, when the lack of oxygen forces him to stop, he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, trying to stop himself from kissing you again because he needs to tell you this first.

“For…?”

“Loving me.”

Chan’s graduation project has finally been screened, earning a standing ovation from everybody present. He invited all his crew to dinner, which has turned into a congratulatory party for Jisung and you. “You two didn’t disappoint me,” Chan exclaims. “I guess you’re the reason why Jisung finished his demo early, right Y/N?”

You wink cockily at him. “Han Jisung is nothing without me.”

Chan ruffles your hair before raising his hand to get everyone’s attention. “My last few months as a student felt amazing thanks to you guys. I’m sure you all know how thankful I am for each of you, so I won’t bore you with my speech. Now, Seungmin, I believe you have something to say.”

Kim Seungmin stands up, unfolding a piece of paper that sparks mixed reactions from the crowd. “Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin, Choi Jisu,” he announces. “Each of you owes ₩20,000 to me, Chan, and Shin Yuna because you guys freaking lost!” He claps, then turning to both of you. “Jisung and Y/N, thank you for making us rich!”

Everyone cheers while you and Jisung look dumbfounded. “All of you bet on us?!” you scream in disbelief. “Whoa I can’t believe you guys! Even you, Chan?”

The senior only chuckles. “Everyone was stressed out at how slow you two were but you guys were so annoyingly cute we couldn’t help ourselves!”

Seungmin collects all the money from the lost participants before distributing it to each of the winners. When he gets to Chan, the latter shakes his head. “Just use the money for round 2, I’ll pay the rest as well.”

The whole room cheers again, quickly getting up from their seats and debating about which place to go. You immediately start interrogating Seungmin, wanting to know what exactly happened during the whole production process.

Jisung taps Chan’s shoulder. “I believe I haven’t thanked you.”

Chan frowns. “For what?”

Jisung slips his hands into his jeans pocket, smiling at you as you turn around to check on him. “For making the whole project happened. For the whole, ‘Sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice.’ It kept me going, even when I thought Y/N and I weren’t meant to be. There are times when we just have to keep trying, aren’t we?”

“Well, thank you for remembering what I said. But it wasn’t me. It happened because you did try, Jisung. All of us have to make choices at some point, but not a lot of people actually have strength and will to do that. You did, so kudos to you. I’m trying to do the same myself, wish me luck, okay?”

Jisung snorts. “This is getting sappy, but thank you. And I will.”

Both boys laugh, exchanging playful slaps on each other’s back until you come up to them.

“Hey Chan, can I borrow Jisung for a sec?”

Chan shoves Jisung towards you. “If I catch you two sneaking out before round 2 is done, I’ll end you!”

You wave at Chan, and Jisung is now glued to your side. “What is it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. “I found your notebooks.”

He grins. “You did? I thought I’d have to tell you about them. They’re nice, right? I’ve recorded some of them, I’ll let you listen later.”

You cross your arms. “The ones in the black notebook are nice. I’m a goddess and I agree. But what are you gonna say about the red notebook?”

Jisung smirks at your question, dropping a quick kiss on your lips. “What about it? You wanna make everything I wrote there come true? I can do that, Princess. Whenever you want,” he whispers seductively.

His original plan was only to leave you the black notebook that contains all the sweetest lyrics he’s ever written. But then he thought it wouldn’t be fair if you only know that side of him. You have every right to know about his sexy thoughts too.

“I just want you to know me. All of me. And everything I feel about you, including the things I really, really want to do to you,” he continues.

You tiptoe to whisper into his ear, “Maybe later.”

“Later?!” Jisung shouts. “Later as in tonight?!”

You shrug, and now Jisung is dragging you to the opposite direction of where his friends are going. “Chan hyung! You can nag us later but we really need to go home right now!”

Everyone whistles, including Chan, so Jisung takes it as a yes and quickens his pace. You, meanwhile, are looking at the snacks stalls along the street.

“I’m still hungry. Let’s stop by to buy hotteok first.”

Groaning in frustration, Jisung knows he has no choice but to follow you. As he watches you enjoying your hotteok, he thinks about the moment when he desperately wanted to prove you wrong.

Jisung has nothing to prove now. You gave his heart a chance. You gave him a chance, and he’ll make sure to cherish you as long as he can.

more a/n: and it’s done! This story seems simple but writing it, I think the theme is a little bit hard to grasp. I hope you guys can understand everything that Jisung feels...

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ringaroundtheroses · 3 years

Text

He made my doll heart light up with joy

In a typical teenager's dream room lied a girl blasting music on her headphones in bed. Her school bag was tossed to some forgotten corner and her signature skates laid right by the bed for easy access. She was just scrolling through some random webpage absentmindedly on her phone when a sudden vibration interrupted her tunes. She quickly jolted up and paused her music to reply to a text sent by her old friend and long-time crush Gumball.

[chat started at 4:53 pm between bubblegum_b1tch and sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters]

bubblegum_b1tch: heyyyyyy u open tonight? :D

sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters: Depends, what u want lol

bubblegum_b1tch: new arcade is opening on the other side of town!!! im gonna check it out around 8 u in?

sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters: Sure ig, u dragging mustard n strawberry to this place too or

bubblegum_b1tch: yeah lmao u know it! we gonna be out late tho so lets head by the diner before then ;)

sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters: Uh just the two of us???

bubblegum_b1tch: yuh, dont worry bout the cash its my treat B)

sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters: Ight not like im doing anything else :p

bubblegum_b1tch: GREAT its a date then pick ya up at 7 <3

sk8ting-0n-the-h8ters: Wait huh-

[chat ended at 5:00 pm by bubblegum_b1tch]

Grapefruit blinked at her phone screen for a moment. Butterflies seem to swarm in her stomach after reading his message. She reread the messages again, but her eyes were not deceiving her. He really called it a date. With a heart too! She bites her lip and tried to think about this rationally, I mean really he couldn't have meant a date date right? It was probably another one of his dumb jokes. But on the other hand...what if he was serious? Oh tree, she only has 2 hours to prepare for this. She jumped out of bed and bolted for her closet, already knowing her regular sporty attire won't cut it. She looks through her closet in a frenzy, throwing clothes on the floor left and right not sure what to wear. She hears the door open behind her. She glances behind her and sees her older sister standing a bit shocked in the doorway.

“...what's going on in here?”

“What do you mean? Nothings up haha”

“Uh-huh, and all this is?

Orange looked around at the messy room with a dubious look. Grapefruit just looked away. Orange sighed and walked in, closing the door behind her. She walks over and hops on her younger sister's bed. She rolls over to face Grapefruit. Grapefruit set the shirt she was about to throw down and slouched on the floor.

“So?”

“Well, fine, maybe somethings up”

“Yeah, that much is obvious, what happened?”

“Well just...here”

Grapefruit grabbed her phone and unlocked it with jittery hands. She shoved the texts in Orange’s face. Orange grabbed the back of Grapefruit’s hand and moved the phone back a bit so she could read it. A smile slowly spread across her face and she gives her little sister a knowing look. Grapefruit takes her phone back then tosses it onto her bean bag chair by her desk. Orange leans towards Grapefruit and giggles. Grapefruit blushes and crosses her arms.

“Oooo~ Some’s got a date~”

“It's not that big of a deal!”

“Aw of course it is! My little sister's first date~ Whos the lucky person? Is it Walnut? Skater? Oh, oh! Is it Gumball?”

“N-no shut up!”

“It's Gumball, isn't it! Omg Grapefruit really? C'mere this is great!”

Orange jumped at her sister for a hug. Grapefruit dodged backward, blushing harder. She scrambles away as Orange keeps up the attack until she eventually traps the younger one into a tight embrace. Orange squealed, hurting the other girl's ears and annoying her to no end. Grapefruit rolled her eyes as Orange continued.

“Oh! Is that what the mess is for? You need something to wear?”

“Well, yeah, kinda...I just don't wanna show up looking like a slob or something”

“Oh My Goodness! That's so cute! Oh let me help, I know just the outfit, it's what I wore during me and Lime’s first date!”

“No! I'm not wearing any of your stupid skirts!”

“Aw, please? You would look so cute! I'm sure Gumball would be grateful for the length too~”

“No way! Just get off me and I may let you help me pick out the outfit”

“Fineee, your such a buzzkill”

After being released, Grapefruit scoots over to the closet with Orange right behind her. Orange and Grapefruit work through the rest of the closet picking out the things they both agree looked cute. Then Orange helped Grapefruit at least somewhat clean up the mess and get dressed. They ended up picking out a large varsity-style jacket with colorful shorts and a crop top. She put the younger sister's hair into a low ponytail and put in some old fruit sliced earrings to finish off the look. Orange made her sister twirl and clapped explicitly. Grapefruit puffed out her cheeks but didn't complain. She picked back up her phone to check the time, six-thirty. With a half-hour to go Orange left her sister alone, no doubt going to tell the rest of the Citrus Squad about the date. Grapefruit just flops on her bed trying not to let the dread in her stomach take over. She grabs her headphones and puts on the song from where she left off. She's not sure of what's to come tonight but she does know one thing. Heartbreak or a new boyfriend her sister will have her back, and that's more important than any date will ever be.

#request #star goes offf #rose writes #i know u said sudden crush but i couldnt think of anythign so now they r going on a date!#i focased more on the sibling dynamic then the actual crush thing sorry anon :pensive:#cookie run #grapefruit cookie #orange cookie #gumball cookie

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Note

Mommy is tired after giving birth to kin. Kai *kaito .. this is you sister*. Kaito *sister ? But I said I want baby brother* kai gives him his famous glare *its not up to you* kaito already crying *i don't want her return her back* mommy though is tired but laughing .. angry kai is ON *your sister is not a dull or toy to be returned back. She is human first of all*. Would you guys belive me? I thought my sister was a toy when I was kid 😭😭 I bite her right hand the fist time I saw her 😂

You bited your sister's hand?! Oh thank god Im not the only one, me and my older brother do this whenever we met and HE HAS MORE THAN 30 YEARS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You look a bit troubled there my devil..." you pointed out tiredly at your husband, whose was sitting right next to you on the edge of your hospital bed, looking at the ground but with almost emptiness in his eyes, like he wasn't really... there.

He snapped his head up to look at you and despite your worry you gave him a tired smile.

"Something wrong?" He stared at you for a few seconds before lowering his gaze to his second child.

... his daughter. Kin.

When the thought of that you two were having a girl sticked to his mind he had to admit he was... taken out of guard. Then the worst happened.

His past with the white haired girl came to haunt him. Everthing he did and you had no idea of... the bullets, the experiments...

He didn't exactly felt shame or even regret on doing these things... but when Kaito was showed on the ultrasound he just couldn't do it anymore, something inside him was stronger than his wish to complete his plan...now that he looked down at his own daughter, a knot seemed to form on his gut...

What if he losed control and did the same thing? God you were never even going to look at him....

"...No. It's fine." He said nonchalantly but decided to rest his temple on the top of your head, not breaking eye contact with the new born. "Just taken out of guard."

"Huh?" You blinked the sleep away from your eyes to at least try to stay awake for a just a little more.

"Angel, they literally cutted you. How was I not supposed to be worried?" He said in a 'maner of tone voice' before growling at your giggles.

You felt the vibrations due to being layed on his neck and you hummed happily, but still remained your firm hold of your new treasure.

"Please tell me you didn't kill anyone after knowing that I was going to do a cesarean."

"... I brought them back at least." You let out a tired and 'not surprised' laugh while your husband seemed to relax at the sound.

A knock on the door interrupted both of you and Kai gently and slowly got off from the bed, to answer the door.

"Pops. You brought the brat." He greeted the elder while looking down at Kaito who seemes way grumpy than he expected.

"When you're going to stop calling me that?" Pops muffled a low chuckle before stepping in on the room.

"Maybe when you stop acting like one." Kai answer his son in the same tone of voice making you and the old man just sigh in hopeless.

Never, he was never going to stop. His kid was always going to be a midget brat.

"Mommy!" Kaito beamed before going to your side, Pops doing the same.

"You scared us for a bit. Cesareans are never easy (Y/n)." Pops almost laughed in joy at sieng the baby's hair.

"I am the wife of a mobster, my father in law is a mobster... I guess I can take care of a cesarean way more easy than being, I dunno, kidnapped." You both laughed while Chisaki sended death glares at you.

Not. Funny.

You noticed your son climbing on the bed to give you a serne smile.

"Hello my soldier." You cooed tiredly but still welcomed your son's arms around your neck. "Here look. This is Kin, your new baby sister." You handed to Pops to hold, since trusting a seven years old child to hold a new born wasn't exactly the best idea, and just closed your eyes with a sigh, hitting your pillow.

You felt a gloved hand carresing your cheek and you just could sense the worry in your husband.

"I'm tired." You be moaned while he rolled his eyes at it.

"...Mom there was a mistake. It was going to be a brother, why is it a girl?" You laughed in exaustation and just decided to let this go for now.

Sleep here you come. You knew that after leaving this hospital neither you or Kai would be getting any, so might as well enjoy it.

"Brat no, it wasn't going to be a boy." Chisaki said sternly while Pops already shocked his head with a smile.

Finally he could sense what is to enjoy a granddaughter... for real.

"But I wanted a brother. There's a paper of return, right?" Kaito said monoustly before urging his hand to the blanket in Pops arms before Chisaki just pinched his ear.

"No, there isn't." He said a bit more annoyed this time "This is your younger sister and there's no turning back. Deal with it."

"But I don't want it." He whined while glaring at his father, now both just changing threatening glances at each other.

"What a shame, because me and your mother want her, so I would suggest that you at least collaborate." The kid groaned again before huffing.

"I will collaborate with leaving her on the door of some stranger, maybe them will want her instead of me." He snarled back and Chisaki's pacience just snapped.

"Why you little-"

"Let's face both of you." Pops interrupted while taking a seat on a chair, before placing his granddaughter on the crib "Kaito, you wouldn't like if you had a brother neither a sister because you're jealous of your mom. You didn't want it a sibling in the first place surely but faked it by seing that." Kaito went to speak but closed his mouth, lowering his hand down with a huff accepting defeat.

Kai sighed in relief before Pops pointed to his palm at him as well, making him arch one eyebrow.

"My boy, you as well, when Kaito was born you would get very irritated because sometimes your 'angel' had to spend more time with Kaito than you, and you know deep inside that with your daughter won't be any different, but only more attention of your wife taken away sonce now there will be two kids distracting her away from your grasp." Pops smirked at the way Chisaki's eye twitched at hearing the information.

"Both of you have one more thing in common. Both have jealous as fuck asses." He let out a laugh at the way Chisaki covered his son's ears the moment he noticed he was going to let out a swear.

"Pops I swear-"

"Ah, now that the kid is not listening I can say that I found that little secret of yours? About-" He snickered at the way Chisaki's ears were getting pink "I don't even need to say it right?"

"With all due respect Pops. Shut up for my own and my son's sake."

The elder laughed even harder while slapping his knee, Kaito making a confused face while Chisaki just groaned in both dissapointment and humiliation.

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angelicspaceprince · 4 years

Text

Late

Author: Ama

Title: Late

Pairing: Beetlejuice/Reader

Character/s: Beetlejuice

Word Count: 1, 120 words

Warnings: Character/Reader death, mentions and descriptions of a dead body

Tags: @imma-fucking-nerd, @trelaney, @justballoonfishthings, @im-eating-rn

Prompt: By the time you got to the doctors the following week, it was too late. Together, you and Beetlejuice prepare for your death.

Notes: So, a prompt by @writing-ideas-inc came across my dash (found here) and I’m supposed to be getting ready for work but. Alas. I cannot. So I wrote this instead, I hope you enjoy!

Sequel to this fic

Buy Me a Coffee

Late

As promised, you went to the doctor the following week. The prognosis. Was not good. Turns out, as you were delaying each visit, you were getting sicker. And sicker. And sicker. Now, the only treatment plans available were life-extending, not curing.

You weren’t 100% sure on how you were going to tell Beej this. You thought he was going to be so pissed, and hurt that you didn’t listen to him sooner. But, instead, the demon looked defeated. “What are you going to do?” He finally asked across the dinner table, having sat in silence for ages before finally asking his question. You sigh.

“They think I will get another 5 years at least if I take the treatment.” You admit quietly. “I’ll last 18 months without it at best.” You could see Beetlejuice preparing for you to tell him you only have 18 months left with him. “I’m taking the treatment, I start Monday.”

He physically sags with relief, hair finally going from the muted green that he forces it to be whenever he’s hiding his true emotions, to the blue and purple combo that always made your heart sink.

To be fair, the treatment gave you an extra three years with Beetlejuice. You dropped everything and did everything off your bucket list, the demon in tow every step of the way. Amongst the fun and the joy, there were a lot of quiet moments where you just laid next to each other, hand in hand, talking about your death and what that would mean afterwards. You were terrified he’d up and leave you the moment you died, and even though you never told him this, he seemed to pick up on your hidden anxiety, always starting with ‘when you die, I’ll be there by your side’. He promised to show you the Neitherworld, to show you parts of the world you never thought you’d ever get to see. Small, quiet promises that made your heart grow warm.

Eventually, you had to stay in the hospital. Your house and belongings were sold and Beej never left your side, even as you lost weight and grew weaker and frail. He helped with everything except for bathing, his love only went so far. He made sure you ate and slept, crawling into bed with you to hold you close, even when your body began to burn up.

You talked. And talked. And talked. About your memories you were scared of losing, how your family would take it, even though they never seemed to have the time to visit. You spoke about what you wish you had more time to do and how you wanted something to do other than watch TV. You didn’t question the books that seemed to appear out of nowhere, instead reading them out loud so Beej could hear until your voice went hoarse.

You spoke about your relationship, how much you love him and how thankful you are for him. When he made the wise crack that he made that he was easy to love, you looked over at him with a look on your face, which made him question what the look was for. You tried to evade the question but eventually, after weeks of him bringing it up again and again, you spill the beans.

“Loving you was never easy,” You acknowledge.

“But it was fun, right?” Beetlejuice asks, raising his eyebrows.

You look at your feet, trying to hide the small smile on your lips. “Fun…. That’s one way to describe it.”

“How else would you?”

“Chaotic and dangerous and peculiar.”

“Sounds like fun to me.” You look back up at him as you share a smile. “You hurtin’?”

“No.” You lie, to be truthful, you’d been in pain for months now. You were ready to sleep. “You’ll be here?”

“Of course, babes.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while longer. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay warm for longer.” You finally apologise. “I wanted to.”

Beej doesn’t make a comment, but you know what he’s thinking. That you should have gone in for treatment sooner, and if you hadn’t have been so stubborn you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Frail, tired, dying. “I love you.” He finally decides to say.

“I love you most.” You squeeze his hand, your eyes feeling heavy. “Beej. I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He promises, already knowing that the sleep you wanted wasn’t going to end with you waking up in your natural body.

“Mmkay.” You say, voice growing weaker as the darkness begins to set in, eyelids dropping shut. “I’ll just have- have a little- a little na-”

You don’t finish your sentence.

You blink, waking up in the chair next to the hospital bed to hear sobbing. There was no more pain, you had more control of your limbs. You felt. Well. Not alive, you felt cold and there was a distinct lack of heartbeat. But you felt better than you had in years.

The moment you looked over, you see a rapidly paling version of you, eyes and mouth slightly open, unbreathing, unseeing. Dead. As much as that was a shock to you, you look over yourself to see a sobbing Beetlejuice, holding his head in his hands with his hair with wisps of blue and purple, but mostly black. You stand up in a second and leap over your body to stand next to him. “Beej? Beej love? It’s ok, I’m here, look up baby.” You beg as the demon stiffens, looking up at you. Clearly, he thought he had a bit more time.

He wipes his eyes as you move to thumb tear lines from his cheeks. “Heya babes, how do you feel?” He asks, a fake smile planted on his lips.

“Dead.” You say bluntly. “You’re so warm, Beej. I never thought you’d be warm.” His smile drops. “I’m here Beej. I may be dead. But I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere without you…..if you’ll have me.”

You don’t have time to react before Beetlejuice has you in his arms, pulling you closer and into his lap. “No babes, you’re stuck with me. Forever now. Til exorcism do us part.” You giggle as you kiss his temple.

“So. What do I need to know about this whole…..being dead thing?” You question, moving back. “Do I get powers now?” You ask excitedly and he chuckles as you start to vibrate at all the possible things you’ll be able to do now that you’re dead.

“Hi.” He teases. “I’ll be your guide. I’ll be your G-U-I-D-E to the other side.”

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softyoongiionly · 5 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Twelve

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn.

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: Friends...this was ALOT. I didn’t edit it too much cause I was so excited to get it out to you so, please forgive any typos. I hope you like it!

Warnings for this Chapter: language, smut, mentions of anxiety/ insecurity, DID I MENTION THERE WAS SMUT OH MY GOD IM ON FIRE

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 12: Pain and Pillow Talk

“Did you talk to him?”

Yoongi shifts on the lawn chair, gnawing on his bottom lip. He looks nervous.

“Uh…yeah I did. I hope that’s ok, I know it wasn’t really my place, I just…”

Your brows furrow as you place a hand on his thigh, the arm rests from your chairs touching one another.

“Whatever you guys talked about, must have worked. I walked by the bedroom after I went pee and, I heard noises that I could have lived the rest of my life without hearing.” You laugh and, Yoongi’s posture softens, chuckling along with you. His hand moves to rest on top of yours, nimble fingers curling under your own.

Yoongi cat eyes flit to yours, a nervous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “Jungkook and I, share the same…uh situation.”

“Do you have a crush on Jimin too? Cause seriously, if you do, I won’t be mad, just know that half of this city has a crush on him so, the competition might be a little rough.”

You smirk, eyes holding his, biting your lip in an attempt to reign in your laughter. Yoongi snorts, relaxing further as he shakes his head.

“No, I’m a little preoccupied with another crush I’ve been dealing with, thank you very much,” He answers quickly, eyes narrowed and accusing as they point directly at you. His answer makes you want to kiss him. Although, most things he does make you want to kiss him. “But uh…Jungkook and I both like…everyone, regardless of, gender or…anything like that…”

You throw your teasing smile out of the window, eyes softening as you squeeze his hand gently. It touched you that Yoongi felt comfortable enough with you to discuss his sexuality and, you wanted to ensure that you handled the information with respect.

“I’m really happy you decided to share this with me, it means a lot. Thank you.” You lean over to kiss his cheek and, the soft skin quickly heats up at the brush of your lips.

Yoongi looks slightly confused, his eyes narrowing again as he regards you carefully.

“What?” You giggle under his gaze, your fingers interlacing with his, shaking his hand lightly.

“You don’t think it’s like…weird or anything?”

“Weird? Of course not. First of all, your sexuality is 100% valid, 100% of the time and, there is nothing to be weirded out by. Second of all, my two childhood best friends are currently having sex upstairs so; my ability to be shocked is kind of lost to me right now.”

Yoongi smiles then, a chuckle breaking past his lips as he nods, “That’s fair. Well…thank you, for being cool about it. I’ve usually had to do more explaining in the past or, sometimes, people aren’t as uh…cool about it.”

There is some pain in his eyes as he finishes his sentence but, you refrain from pointing it out, choosing instead to squeeze his hand again.

“You can talk to me about it as much as you want but, only if you want to. I’m always here either way…” You assure him and, Yoongi leans in suddenly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smile into it, leaning against him before he pulls away, his eyes containing a renewed softness.

“Thank you…seriously.”

You’re still sort of smiling as he pulls away, nodding your head in acknowledgement, “You’re welcome.”

He smirks, looking at you for a moment before his hand comes up to scratch behind his neck. He directs his gaze towards the rest of the party that had yet to settle down.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and, you move quickly to retrieve it from your pocket, hoping to receive some sort of update from your friends.

BROS FOR LYFE (JIMIN): Kookie and I are gonna stay at my place tonight, is that ok with you guys?

A smirk is on your lips as you see the text come through.

Guess the time they had in the bedroom wasn’t enough.

BROS FOR LYFE: It’s ok as long as you guys aren’t driving.

BROS FOR LYFE (Jungkook): We’ll get an Uber, Mom, don’t worry.

BROS FOR LYFE: then, you’re good. Have fun ;)

BROS FOR LYFE: wait, where’s Tae? Aren’t you guys supposed to be driving back in the morning?

BROS FOR LYFE (JIMIN): We saw him on the way out of the room; he was heading into another room with some girl.

BROS FOR LYFE (Jungkook): They were making out, it was really gross.

Shaking your head, you respond, your brows rising

BROS FOR LYFE: I’ll call an Uber too

BROS FOR LYFE (JIMIN): Noooo Y/N just come with us, it’s ok, we can have them stop at your place first, or you can stay at mine

BROS FOR LYFE (Jungkook): Or you can stay at yours…

You giggle at that, knowing damn well that staying under Jimin’s roof would be a bad idea.

BROS FOR LYFE: It’s ok guys, I’m still hanging out with Yoongi and, I don’t know when he’s planning on leaving. Also, I can take a hint Kook, I’ll find my own way tonight but, like, you two have fun. Just try and remember that Jimin’s neighbor is a sweet old woman named Helen who would probably have a heart attack if she heard what I heard earlier.

BROS FOR LYFE (Jungkook): lmao get rekt Helen

BROS FOR LYFE (JIMIN): Helen is a freak Y/N, she’s hit on me ever since I moved in.

“Everything ok?” Yoongi’s looking at you curiously, smirking as he notices you giggling to yourself.

You bring your attention to his; still laughing lightly as you nod to your phone, “My friends are abandoning me…”

“Wait why?” Yoongi chuckles, eyes darting to the upstairs bedroom momentarily. “Did they not…finish up yet?”

“Apparently not. Tae was our DD but, he’s upstairs too…doing god knows what.”

Yoongi shakes his head, smirking in disbelief before he brings his gaze back to yours, a slight hint of nervousness appearing in his chocolate eyes. “I can take you home, or you can…stay at mine, we live really close. It’s up to you…”

A smile finds your lips, giddiness swirling in your chest as you cock your head, trying to play it cool.

“Do you want me to stay the night Yoongi?” Your tone shifts lower to tease him, your knee nudging against his causing him to roll his eyes. Pink cheeks always give him away though and, you bite your lip, enjoying the affect you have on one another.

Pursing his lips, he smirks, trying to contain a much bigger smile. He’s still trying to play it cool too, even after everything that’s happened between the two of you.

“You can, if you want to.” He insists, almost defiantly, nudging your knee back.

“Do you have to wait till your friends leave?”

He shakes his head, eyes wandering over the rest of the backyard, which was still displaying dozens of party goers, “No, Namjoon and Hoseok drove separate, we followed each other here, cause I couldn’t remember where this place was…”

“Alright, you ready to go then? Or did you want to stay and hang out for a bit?”

Yoongi stomach does somersaults as he looks toward the door eagerly, his head shaking, “No, I’m ready….are you, staying with me? Or am I taking you home?”

You smile, starting to stand up, brushing your hands on your jeans before turning towards him, offering a hand to him, “I’ll stay with you,”

Yoongi’s stomach could have joined the Olympics at this point but, ever the cool guy, he tried his best to refrain from literally jumping for joy.

He smiles ( :] ) taking your hand, interlacing your fingers with his as he lets you lead him out of the party.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You came on a good night,” Yoongi explains, as he’s unlocking his front door, smirking slightly as he turns back to you, the door cracking open. “Normally, this place is a disaster but, Hoseok had a girl over the other night and, actually decided to clean up for once.”

You giggle, nodding in understanding as Yoongi leads the two of you inside, “Is he the messy one?”

Yoongi snorts, nodding, “Yes, in more ways than one…”

You snicker, stepping through the threshold, your eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was pretty nice. The walls were painted white and littered with various photos full of the three men who lived in the house and, what you assumed was their families. As the two of you walk passed the front hall, you enter the living room which displayed a giant flat screen and, a black U-shaped couch that essentially took up most of the room. To your left, Yoongi pointed out the kitchen, complete with modern appliances and barstools at the front of the island. You wondered how they ended up in such a nice house but, you decided it wasn’t really your place to ask but, it was certainly an upgrade from your tiny apartment.

“My room is over here but, you’re uh…welcome to sleep out here too if you feel more comfortable, it’s up to you.”

Yoongi sounded nervous, far more nervous than you’ve heard from him in a while. You turn towards him, smiling softly, taking his hand in yours, “As comfortable as the couch looks, I think I’d rather sleep in your room, with you, if that’s ok…”

He relaxes slightly but, only slightly, his furrowed brow smoothing out as he returns your smile, his fingers lacing with yours once again.

“It’s right down the hall here,” Yoongi gestures to a hallway that extends from the living room, still holding your hand as he leads the way. He’s eager as all hell but, to you, he seems relatively relaxed.

The thing is, Yoongi had never had anyone he liked in his room before. This was mainly due to the fact that the last real crush he had was in high school and, Yoongi was far too terrified to talk to him. So, as far as romance goes, Yoongi is like brand new in this department, he doesn’t know what he’s doing and, he’s really afraid he’s going to mess things up. The last person who slept in his bed was Hoseok and, even then, Yoongi never really developed feelings. For the longest time, Yoongi assumed he would end up alone. He was fine with that. Then, you came along and, quite frankly fucked him all the way up, both figuratively and literally (lmao). He’s really trying to take things slow but, it’s difficult when you keep doing and saying all the right things. Yoongi feels comfortable messing around and, pretending like everything is SUPER CHILL but, deep down, he’s desperately trying to suppress the fact that he’s falling for you. Hard.

He opens the door to his bedroom, ushering you inside, hoping to god that you can’t hear how fast his heart his beating. You smile as soon as he turns the light on, revealing the room to you. The first thing you notice is the smell, clean laundry, you weren’t sure if his detergent was just potent or if he had an air freshener somewhere but, either way, his room smelled amazing. He steps in behind you closing his door softly, biting his lip as he watches you scan the room. Yoongi’s room is tidy, everything in it’s place. Black shelving adorns his walls, holding various photos and, sports memorabilia, his bed is covered in a fluffy black duvet that looked ridiculously inviting at the moment. A desk sits in the corner of the room, holding a big monitor and several synth pads and speakers. In front of the desk sits a computer chair that has a jersey hanging on the back, Agust D stitched into the material.

You turn back to Yoongi smiling, feeling his nervous energy, “Do you make music in here too?”

He nods, shifting in his stance slightly as he moves toward you, his eyes flitting to his desk, “Sometimes yeah, I can’t always afford studio time but, I have everything I need right here. It’s just better to work at the studio; they have all the equipment I prefer working with…”

You shuffle over to his desk, careful not to touch anything cause like, this is his passion and, if you broke something you would be mortified. Fondness is practically screaming in your chest as you notice a few characters on Yoongi’s desk: some from cartoon shows, some from basketball teams.

“Did you make the beat that you rapped to?”

He nods again, moving to sit sort of awkwardly on the corner of his bed.

“Yeah it was a beat I had for a long time but, I kept toying with it until I finally got something I liked…”

Turning away from Yoongi’s desk, you move to set your purse on one of his nightstands.

“I really hope you keep at it, you’re so talented it’s insane. I’m surprised you haven’t put your stuff out there…”

He blushes, shying away from your compliment as he picks at the skin around his fingertips.

“Stop,” He chuckles, looking over at you, “…it’s just a stupid beat I made.”

Your eyes widen incredulously, “Yoongi…nothing about your music is stupid like, honestly you were so good. You’re definitely in the right field…you had me swooning over you and shit, it was embarrassing.” You giggle and, Yoongi’s brows raise, a smirk on his lips as he cocks his head.

“You were just checking me out the whole time? How do you know the music was even good then?” He teases, his heart swelling 2000 times bigger at your praise.

You chuck a pillow at him, giggling, “First of all, I check you out all the time so, that wouldn’t have affected my judgement, second of all, if you released a mixtape, I would be the first person to buy it and, that’s not just because I like you, it’s because, your song was that good.”

Yoongi chuckles, looking away from you for a moment, his eyes shifting around, trying to figure out his response, he sighs and then looks back you, a renewed sense of softness in his gaze,

“Thank you, that’s uh…that’s really kind of you to say.”

“You’re welcome…Agust D…” You break the slightest bit of tension, a smile on your face as you move to the button of your jeans, undoing them before starting to shimmy out of them. Yoongi snorts at your comment but, honestly, your praise renewed something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe he would release his mixtape….

“I hate wearing jeans…” You mutter, brow furrowed as you struggle to tug them down your legs.

Yoongi feels another sensation stirring in his pants as he sees the lace of your underwear. Images of the last time the two of you were together playing on a loop in his head as he he looks away from you again, frustrated at how easily you could fluster him.

You managed to get your jeans off before slipping your bra out of your Team Jungkook t-shirt. The clothes were folded and set on the floor before you turn your attention back to Yoongi.

“Are you ok?” You prod gently, confused at why he was avoiding your gaze.

He sighs, nodding as he turns back to you, averting his gaze from your underwear, “I’m good I…I uh normally sleep in just my boxers, if that’s cool with you...”

“Yeah, of course…” You trail off, not convinced by his answer.

He’s nervous. You could feel it in the air of his bedroom, his tension radiating off of his body.

“Let me…uh,” He starts, trying to speak over the lump in his throat as he stands, pulling his jacket off before his finger pinch the neck of his t-shirt and pull it over his head. You’ve obviously seen Yoongi without his shirt on before but, there was something about it that really got you. He had a bit of a tummy and, you honestly had to resist the urge to pinch it. You busy yourself with pulling his duvet back, stealing a glance or too towards him in the process. He pulls down his jeans, bending down momentarily to collect his clothes off of the floor to throw them into his laundry basket.

“The remote is on the nightstand if you want to turn the TV on, I have Netflix…” He murmurs, padding over to his dresser to take his jewelry off.

Why is that attractive? Why are you still staring at him?

Turn the damn TV on…

“Should we finish the dragon documentary? That should put us right to sleep…” You joke, your thumb pressing on the power button of the remote.

Yoongi chuckles, turning towards you momentarily, “No.”

You laugh in return, his smile lingering on his mouth as he turns back around to finish what he’s doing.

“Your loss, dragons are the #1 sleeptime aid in the world…”

“Shut up.” He chuckles again, finally feeling himself relax as he turns back towards you.

Yoongi is going to die.

That’s it, that’s the final straw.

When he spots you, cozied up, underneath HIS duvet, on HIS bed, in HIS room, he literally feels his heart being assaulted in his chest. Your eyes are narrowed in concentration as you browse Netflix, not noticing Yoongi’s minor breakdown in the corner of the room. Subconsciously, you use your free hand to push back the duvet, inviting Yoongi to the spot next to you. He sighs, heart choking in his chest as he makes his way over to the bed, he pauses near the light switch, hesitating slightly, looking over at you.

“Is it ok if I turn the lights off? Or do you need them on?”

Yoongi sleeps in absolute darkness and, knows very well that, if he has to leave the lights on, he will probably have some serious trouble falling and staying asleep. However, he knew of one of your greatest fears and, he would rather deal with a sleepless night, than deal with you feeling afraid.

“Oh yeah, go ahead, I don’t sleep with the lights on, I just have some source of light, like my laptop or my TV or something….” You smile mid-sentence, your gaze moving to his, “Thank you though…”

Yoongi nods, returning your smile before flicking off the lights and, approaching the bed. There’s a stirring in your chest as he slides in beside you, heat radiating off of his body as he does. Yoongi feels his anxiety rising once again, unsure of how to deal with all of the feelings inside of him. He wants to hold you, of course he does but, he’s not sure how you feel about him. The two of you were having sex quite a bit, sex that was so good that it left an impression on him.

He knows you like him but, how much? What if you were just having fun?

What if you didn’t feel the same? What if he was just a good time to you? Were you like that? What if-oh…

You move towards him during his internal crisis, your body, soft and sweet smelling, tucks into his. He feels goosebumps form on his arms as your hair touches his bare chest, the annoying organ under his sternum asserting itself once again.

The increase in Yoongi’s heartrate didn’t go unnoticed. You felt it against your cheek as you snuggled into him, a soft smile on your lips. It was hard for you to understand why you affected Yoongi this way; he always seemed so calm and collected. You knew differently however, you knew he was always feeling more than he let on.

“Comfy?” You murmur to him, as your hand rubs gently against his ribs, attempting to reign in his nerves.

Yoongi is annoyed with himself, he doesn’t understand why he reacts so wildly to your touch.

“I…no…I’m sorry, I’m not…” He stutters, cursing himself for making this otherwise sweet moment, incredibly awkward.

Your heart sinks slightly and, you pull away from him, sitting cross legged in the center of the bed, eyes widened in surprise.

“Shit…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted…I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable…” You amend, feeling your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

Yoongi joins you in sitting up, his face twisted in discomfort, he reaches for you then, placing his hand on yours as he shakes his head.

“No…no, it’s not you, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just…fuck, I’m sorry…” He wipes a hand over his face and, his cheeks are on fire at this point. “You did nothing wrong, it’s my fault…I’m the one being awkward.”

You accept his hand, your head tilting curiously but, you stay silent, knowing he had more to say.

“I’m not normally like this…I,” He sighs, his free handing wiping over his face, “Everytime I’m around you, I feel like…this feeling about you and, I don’t know how to convey it or…ask for…I don’t know what do…shit, I’m sorry I can just take you home if you want, I understand if you don’t want to stay…”

Your brow furrows then, confusion evident on your features, “Yoongi, I don’t want to leave…just talk to me yeah? What’s going on?”

A breath comes out of his nose then, his chest flushing to match his cheeks, he’s fully embarrassed, he doesn’t even know what the fuck he is trying to say, let alone, how to say it.

“I’m not used to wanting to…do stuff… I guess, I’m sorry…I know its… “He cringes at his confession, regretting every single moment that has recently passed, wishing desperately that he was more casual, like Hoseok, or articulate, like Namjoon. But he wasn’t. He was Yoongi and, Yoongi had spent many years denying his own feelings thus, denying his own desires.

You smile then, everything becoming apparent, a relieved giggle passing your lips. The sound brings Yoongi’s gaze back to yours, his heart stalling momentarily.

“I would hope you still wanted to have sex with me, we’ve only been at it for the past week…” You attempt to joke with him, trying to lighten his mood and lessen his embarrassment.

“You don’t understand though, it’s every time we’re alone, my mind, sometimes, just goes straight to sex and, it feels wrong sometimes...like it’s inappropriate and, when you leave or, when I leave, all I can think about is you and…what we do together and, I’m turned on all the time, I feel like I’m in highs school again...it’s really distracting and, I feel like I’m being…gross” He agonizes, trying to understand why you’re so relaxed.

“Yoongi,” You’re giggling again, scooting closer to him, “there’s nothing gross about wanting someone…I feel the same way about you.”

His expression relaxes slightly, his eyes shifting around, “You do?”

“Yes,” You scoot closer then, your knees touching his as your thumb soothes over his knuckles.

“…I mean, every time we’ve done anything, it’s been because I came onto you so…”

Yoongi’s face turns up then, his body relaxing further as he nods, “I guess you’re right about that but, it’s only because, I don’t know how to…ask for it? Or come onto you? Fuck…I sound ridiculous…”

“Ok that’s it…” You mutter, pushing his hands to the side before nudging him back against his headboard and settling into his lap, your panties against his boxers. He gulps, biting his lip as you do, a smirk sort of playing on his mouth. “You are not ridiculous, or gross, or weird, or anything like that…I like you…”

You kiss his lips then, so soft and sweet, “I want you…I think about you…” You place a kiss on his mouth between each dose of reassurance, your fingers lacing with his. “You don’t have to feel ashamed…”

Yoongi’s breath is picking up slightly, his lips responding against yours, “I don’t want to feel ashamed…I just have so much going on inside my head sometimes…I don’t know what to do with it.”

You nod, understanding very well what that’s like. Moving from his lips, you sit back on his lap, admiring the way he looks illuminated by the light of the TV.

“With me…” You smile at him, your expression softening as the two of you regard one another, he can’t help but return your smile as he feels his anxiety slowly leaving him. “I want you to feel like you can talk to me ok? I know it isn’t easy and, shit gets complicated but, I really want to make you comfortable, this is all new to me too, I’m not expecting anything from you, I just like being with you...”

Your words melt the remainder of Yoongi’s frigid fear, his heart singing in his chest as he pulls you closer against him, “I like being with you too...”

Settling against the warmth of Yoongi’s bare skin, you wrap your hands behind his neck, leaning in to nudge your nose against his, “Cool, so we’re on the same page...”

“I guess...” He mutters stubbornly but, his nervous energy is clearly diminishing as he leans into your lips, a renewed sense of playfulness in his eyes.

“Kiss me you fool...” The dramatic flair in your voice would normally warrant an eye roll from Yoongi but, this time, he just shakes his head, a low chuckle rumbling between the two of you as he presses his lips against yours.

He takes his time, kissing you slowly, his hands still on your hips, squeezing gently as he does. This time, kissing him felt different, you could feel how relaxed he was under your touch, his breath leaving his nose gently as you slide your hands up in his hair. Your nails scratch gently at his scalp whilst Yoongi slowly introduces his tongue to the kiss. You accept him graciously, letting yours play against his. The kiss is dirty, filthy even but, neither of you are rushed to further things along.

Yoongi’s hands explore the skin over your hips, his fingertips admiring the softness, rubbing against your hips. You nudge his nose, nibbling on his bottom lip for a moment before, reconnecting once again. Yoongi’s hardening against you, his boxers stretching over him as he presses himself against your panties. You smirk into his lips knowingly but, say nothing, choosing instead to begin kissing into Yoongi’s neck.

Nuzzling against his neck, you place a few whispery kisses against his skin, taking time to find the spot that makes him shiver the most. His breath hitches slightly as your lips reach the apex of his neck, near the beginning of his collar bone.

“I...” He stutters out the syllable, an inquiry heavy on his tongue, his dick plumping further in his boxers. “Can you...bite me?”

His voice is low, shaky but, certain, the rasp in his tone going straight to your clit. You nod, dragging your teeth gently against his neck, causing another shiver to run through him, his heart picking up in his chest.

Testing the waters, you bite down on him gently, your lips suctioning against his skin. You feel his hips rise up slightly at your motions, his head lulling back against his headboard, providing you better access.

“Harder...” He doesn’t ask this time, his dick fully erect against your panties, mouth agape.

You smirk to yourself before giving him what he wants and, sinking your teeth into his skin. Not hard enough to draw blood but, pretty damn close. You suckle his sensitive skin into your mouth, laving against it with your tongue, knowing full well that your motions will leave a mark.

“shit...wait...I…oh fuck...” Yoongi’s breathy voice, desperate and wanton, claws its way out of his chest, his hips stuttering beneath you, his hands clutching yours. His boxers were sticky against the inner parts of your thighs, the sensation causing you to pull back, alarmed. Yoongi lets out another breath, his head thrown back in pleasure, his cheeks dusty pink with embarrassment.

You bite your lip, watching him in disbelief, wrapping your brain around the fact that he had just cum from you biting his neck.

“Shit, shit…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” His breathless, his chocolate eyes widened in shock as he comes down from a pretty powerful orgasm. Yoongi is mortified and, quite sure that if you didn’t want to leave before, you would definitely want to leave now.

“Shhh…” You whisper, moving in towards his mouth, capturing his lips. Shaky breath escapes his nose as he cautiously kisses you back, his whole body feeling rather sensitive.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…I don’t know what happened, I just felt your teeth and…” He’s stuttering at this point, his words swallowed against your kisses until you finally break away from him, giggling as you do. Your eyes hold all the fondness in the world as you bring your hands up to hold his cheeks.

“Why are you apologizing for cumming?”

“I…I don’t know, you didn’t finish or, we didn’t fu…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes at you, “See? You’re laughing at me, oh my god, I’m so fucking lame, please just leave me here to wither away and die…”

Your giggles grow in volume then as you try to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks that are now squish between your palms, “I’m not laughing at you... listen to me…”

Yoongi is full on pouting between your hands, his own hands bracing themselves against your hips, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his now, sticky boxers.

“You aren’t lame…” You assure him, a smile lingering on your lips, “you’re fucking hot and all we need to do is get you hard again but, we can’t do that if you wither away and die can we?”

Yoongi snorts his eyes shifting from side to side before finding yours again. He can feel himself plumping up at the mention of you getting him hard and, although he’s thoroughly embarrassed, he doesn’t doubt your ability to do so.

“No, we can’t…” He agrees, cat eyes peering deep into yours as he lets out another breath.

“I don’t want to hear you criticizing yourself anymore, understand?” The tone you use is firmer than normal and, Yoongi perks up at the sound of it, nodding eagerly in response. You smirk, your suspicions slowly being confirmed one by one. “Say it aloud…”

“I..I understand…” He breaths, eyes completely locked onto yours

“Good boy…” You whisper against his lips before pressing a gentle kiss to them

Yoongi feels his heart skip a beat at the nickname, his dick continuing to swell in his boxers.

He’s never recovered from an orgasm so fast but, the way you’re talking to him, the way you’re ordering him around, it’s doing something to him.

A smirk finds its way onto your lips, “You like that don’t you?”

He nods again, rendered speechless, he’s captivated, his embarrassment diminishing once again.

“Do you want to be my good boy Yoongi?” Still smirking, you take his lip between your teeth, the movement causing him to let out another, sharper breath, his body turning to puddy beneath you.

“Yes…” His voice is muffled by your teeth, his nipples hardening at the sound of your voice. It was still you but, something had shifted, you sounded so powerful, so sure, and so fucking sexy.

“I’ve had my suspicions about you…” You release his lip, hands releasing his face and moving to his hands that we’re now clutching on your hips. Lacing your hands with his, you bring them above his head, pinning them against his head board, pressing his skin into the wooden bars. Yoongi feels a whimper at the back of his throat, his neck stretching to watch the movement of your hands, gritting his teeth lightly.

“The night I dyed your hair, you whimpered when I tugged on it, when we fucked in your car, you gave yourself to me so willingly, the other night, you came so hard when I scratched you…” You’re listing out the bits of evidence and, Yoongi’s eyes close, overwhelmed by you, shaky breath escaping his nose. When he opens them, they’re black with desire, wide with submission, his gaze goes straight to your pussy. “…and now, you came just from me biting your neck…”

“I like pain…” He blurts out, his voice trembling but assured, dark eyes still staring into yours. There’s no shame in his explanation, his inhibition slowly shredding with each passing moment. “I know you do…” A giggle passes your lips as you press his wrists harder into the wooden bars.

“It makes me really hard…when I jack off, I dig my nails into my thigh, sometimes I choke myself too…bet you didn’t fucking know that did you?”

His challenging you, he knows it. He wants to rile you up, he wants to let go for once…

He wants to get fucked up.

For the moment, you’re speechless, not expecting Yoongi to be so forward. He was usually quiet, subdued, even shy when the two of you went at it. You had never seen the wild look currently in his eyes, you want more of it.

“ Doesn’t surprise me…” You counter glancing behind you, toward his closet, trying to figure out your next move. “ Do you have a tie or something?”

Yoongi smirks, knowing full well what you were thinking, “Are you planning on tying me up Y/N?”

The sound of your name sounds sinful on his plushy mouth and before you can answer, Yoongi speaks up again,

“The only way I’m letting you tie me up is if you use those panties you’re wearing, which I’m pretty sure are soaking wet by now…”

His request throws you for a moment and, your mouth falls agape momentarily, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed by him and, this time his smirk grows, his head cocking to the side, eyes still taunting yours.

“Ask me nicely then and, you might get what you want…” Your breathing is growing slightly uneven. Yes, you were very comfortable fucking Yoongi into next week but, this, the way he was talking, was new territory for you.

He wasn’t wrong though, your panties were soaked…

“Y/N?” His eyes go wide with innocence now but, his tone is still taunting, “Will you please tie me up with your panties?”

Biting your lip, you snap, releasing his wrists before moving off of his lap, slipping off of your panties and, straddling his waist yet again.

“Wrists up…” You order and, he obliges, still smirking and, as you hold your panties on your fingers you return his smirk, leaning down momentarily, brushing your lips against his, “By the time I’m finished with you, you’re gonna be so fucked out that you won’t remember anything but, the way my pussy feels around you…”

Yoongi gulps, his smirk faltering as he opens his mouth, leaning up against your lips but, you don’t respond, choosing instead to pull away. He sighs at the loss of contact, obsidian eyes shooting up to where his wrists are, watching intently as you use your panties to tie him to his headboard.

You sit back on him, admiring the way his body looks, stretched out and vulnerable to you, his cheeks and chest flushed, his nipples hardened, his stomach trembling as you run your nails over his hips.

“You said you liked pain right?” You whisper, eyes sultry as they hold his, your fingers moving delicately over his skin.

He nods, hips rising slightly against your touch, his dick painfully hard in his boxers, “Yes…”

“How does this feel then?” You dig your nails into his pale skin, scratching hard over his hips, leaving aggravated ruby marks with your movements.

Yoongi throws his head back, a gasp leaving his lips, his eyes shutting tightly as he nods again, “Good…do it again please…”

You want to admonish him for demanding you but, you don’t want to discourage his newly found confidence so, instead, you oblige. Dragging your nails over his ribs this time, you press harder, scratching him all the way down to the band of his boxers. Yoongi shivers, his face turning up in a mix of agony and pure pleasure, a smile appearing on his lips.

“Holy…fucking shit…” He chuckles, his vision going hazy as he tries to focus on you, the sensations in his body overwhelming him. His lips are wet, his dark gaze flitting between your hands and your face, “I’m so hard right now…”

“I can feel that, you’re twitching around underneath me…” You quip, fingertips brushing over his clothed length, the motion causing him to jump slightly.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore…I feel like I’m gonna cum again and, I want to last for you…” He sounds slightly panicky, his breath picking up as you start to grind against his dick, your bare pussy pressing into his boxers. “Please…please fuck me…”

You bite your lip, smiling down at him, rolling your hips against him once again, a low whimper breaking past his swollen lips as you do.

“Do you think you’ve earned that Yoongi? Do you think you’ve earned my pussy?” You whisper, grinding against him again and, you can only imagine how raw his wrists must be from how hard he’s been fighting against his ties.

He shakes his head vigorously, his expression growing smaller, staring up at you, adoration creeping into his gaze, “I could never do enough to earn your pussy jagi…”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks, your stomach dropping as you lean down to his lips, kissing him suddenly. He responds, his lips eager as he moans into your mouth, his arms burning from how much his straining but, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“That was a good answer…” You giggle and he returns the sentiment, chuckling into your mouth.

“I meant it…”

You tug his boxers down his legs, resisting the urge to take his swollen length into your mouth. His dick is pulsing with arousal, some of it still covered in his previous orgasm. Yoongi couldn’t recall a time where he had been so hard in his life, his brain filled with nothing but, you

“Don’t cum until I say…” You assert, stroking him in your palm before lining him up at your entrance, your pussy aching to be filled by him.

Through his whimpering, he nods, his hips raising against yours, completely desperate for you, “I’ll be good for you jagi, I swear…just please, I can’t wait any longer.”

So, you oblige, slowly sinking down onto him, taking every bit of him that you can, the feeling sending a sinking feeling into your stomach.

“Shit…” He gasps, sweat forming on his forehead, his gaze zeroing in on where the two of you are joined, the sight alone making him drool.

Your nipples harden under your t-shirt and, you take the opportunity to pull it off, exposing the rest of you to Yoongi’s hungry gaze. The sight of you fucks him up everytime, his gaze being pulled from your cunt to the rest of you, his eyes looking up at you in awe.

The pace on his dick quickens, causing both of you to be short of breath, his length curving up in just the right place, white hot pleasure wickedly coursing throughout your body.

“You’re so fucking pretty...” Yoongi’s shaky voice makes your clit throb, your hands coming down to brace against his injured hips as you start riding him faster.

He’s staring at your face now, not even glancing toward the rest of your body, his tone certain and unyielding, “You know that right? You know how pretty I think you are right?”

Yoongi will admit, he’s not thinking clearly, his logic is out to lunch, everything about you turning his brain to mush.

“You should look in a mirror sometime…” You quip, meeting his intense gaze. The resolve within you as breaking as it usually does and, you already feel yourself nearing the edge.

“I can’t believe it…I can’t believe I have someone so pretty…riding my dick so fucking good, I must have been a good boy huh? To get so lucky?” Yoongi is blabbering at this point, his eyes going in out of focus, the corners of them collecting moisture and, he feels like he’s gonna cry if he doesn’t cum soon. Then again, he feels like he’d cry regardless…

“You’re the best boy Yoongi…you deserve to feel this good all the time, I want to make you feel good all the time…will you let me? Can I keep fucking you this good?”

Hips are frantic now, your clit begging for attention, throbbing and buzzing between your legs and, you finally give in, the pads of your fingers rubbing against it, the motion causing you to tighten around Yoongi’s length.

His eyes bug out then, your words and the tightness of your cunt becoming too much, “Y/n please, please can I cum, please, I can’t…I…”

“Cum for me baby…” You whimper, your resolve breaking completely as you feel yourself tip over the edge, your head falling back on your shoulders as your pace picks up fully, the sound of skin smacking on skin echoing throughout the room.

“Thank you jagi...fuck thank you so much…”

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Roughly fifteen minutes later, the two of you are curled up under the duvet, your fingers gently applying cream to Yoongi’s shaky hands. His expression is one of pure bliss as he lets you tend to him, his heart melting as you press a kiss to each of his wrists.

“Thank you. “ You murmur, as you finish rubbing the cream into Yoongi’s raw skin, biting your lip as carefully tend to the more sensitive spots.

Yoongi watches you fondly, admiring the way you look, face flushed, glowing under the light of his TV. His brow furrows, voice still not 100%, “For what?”

“For tonight, for sharing more of yourself, I really appreciate everything you told me…everything…” You smirk, catches his glance for a moment before giggling, returning to what you’re doing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable before so, you should be thanking yourself…” He insists, returning your smirk before leaning in and, kissing you, his lips taking you off guard.

“I’m happy you feel so comfortable then…” You amend, giggling against his lips as he pecks you over and over, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks.

“Stay in the morning yeah? I want to make breakfast…” He insists, smiling softly as he pulls you closer to him.

“Can I have it in bed?”

He smirks, leaning towards your lips, mischief in his eyes, “I’ve made it pretty clear that you can have whatever you want in bed…”

You giggle again, kissing him, pushing his disheveled blonde hair to the side, “ I’m holding you to that…”

“Good.”

Good: the biggest understatement of all time.

417 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 6 years

Text

For science 1/7 - (NSFW)

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings/Themes: masturbation (vaginal) & voyeurism, unrequited feelings, eventual sex. is this crack yet? lol there’s a plot i swear.

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: posting this now because I’ve been working on it on and off for like a month and im tired of looking at it and jk’s bday is coming up HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK and i’ll be too busy with school plus im almost 7k into the second chapter so..

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Your eyes burn in protest as you scroll to the top of your terminal window once more to search for the error that is fucking your code up. It’s been hours of work and you still haven’t managed to get your program to run even though the homework assignment is easy in theory. In fact it’s just like a problem that Jungkook said the professors would probably give you in your sophomore year, and here you are in your junior year seeing such an ‘easy’ question. With him, it had truly been easy, though. Jungkook was a better computer science teacher than any professor you’d ever encountered. Thinking back to early high school days has you smiling softly to yourself.

You miss sitting closely together, heads sometimes touching, as you both bent over a problem while he explained why it looked hard, but was actually something you could do in your sleep. The wide smile he would give you when you completed competition questions in minimal time would always set your heart fluttering.

Your phone vibrating brings you back to reality. The caller ID reads ~JK~ and you swoop in to answer the call. If the time in the corner of your computer is right (and it is) he should have already opened his decision letter from the PhD department.

“Hey, what’s the verdict,” you ask as soon as you accept the call. You know there’s no other reason why he’d call you when you were supposed to meet up in a few hours for weekly game night.

“I got in,” his voice is soft, but you know him well enough to be able to hear the joy mixed in.

“Congratulations, Kook! That’s amazing, I knew you would get in, they’d be crazy not to accept you. Oh my god, we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go out for drinks before heading back to mine to play tonight. You in?” Now you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I’m in. Let me just pack up and I can meet you. Where are you--the department lounge? I’ll come over.”

“Actually,” his shy tone has you sitting down slowly, returning your jacket to where you had it slung over the back of your chair. “You don’t have to leave right away. I was gonna try and call Yoori. You know, to tell her the news. And then tell Tae and Hobi, of course.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, that makes total sense. I should probably finish this code for Choi’s class anyway. It’s due on Sunday, but I’m almost done. Might as well turn it in early once I find this error.” Your hand scrapes at the sides of your jeans, looking for something to grab at.

“Well then I guess I have time,” he chuckles, “Your typos are always so tiny that they take hours to find. Let’s meet up at the bar in 2 hours then?”

You wince. Although it’s not at all a mean-spirited jab, you’re no longer in the mood for the friendly banter at the mention of Yoori, Jungkook’s long time unrequited love.

“Sure. See you then,” you hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye formally like he always insists on doing.

You put your phone down and berate yourself for getting distracted. If you were the brilliant Yoori, you wouldn’t have even made the typo in the first place. But you weren’t Yoori because you didn’t have the fortune of being born four years earlier and four times more beautiful, elegant, or intelligent. And you didn’t have the luck of being so much of a genius that you could skip years ahead of school like Jungkook either. So instead you would just have to chug along, always watching Jungkook chase Yoori.

You go back to scrolling through your code only to find the error a third of the way down. Jungkook was right, the typo was tiny--a misplaced equals sign. You sigh and run the code to make sure it’s perfect this time, and when it is you send it in to your professor to be graded. You consider heading home and using the extra time to make yourself look nice. Not that there was anything wrong with your oversized university t-shirt and jeans, but suddenly you think maybe things would be different for you with regards to your love life if you tried a little harder. You’re about to leave the library entrance that’s closest to your dorm, but you get a text from Jungkook.

6:41 - I called Yoori and she said she heard about my deal with RealiCorp and she wants to link up when she gets back on campus!

You narrow your eyes at the text. Jungkook had recently sold some software he developed to an up and coming gaming company that was supposed to make the imaging on immersion headsets better. He had made a pretty penny and was covertly offered a position at the company, but it was also a large victory for the computer science department at the university and his picture had been circulating around the department website for weeks. You suppose she finally saw it while she was taking a break from her research project off campus and decided to answer his calls for a change.

You text back what you hope sounds like a cheerful congratulation and decide to just go to the bar instead. What’s the harm in a few rounds before the rest of the crew arrives?

The harm would have been miniscule at most if you hadn’t been in your feelings, but when Jungkook, Tae, and Hobi arrive, you’re three rounds in and a little bit sloppy.

“Woah,” Hobi shouts, giving you a too strong pat on the back when he sits in the chair next to you. “Someone started a little early. What’s the occasion, are we celebrating something for you too?” Jungkook shakes his head with a sheepish smile and goes to sit beside you, away from Hoseok.

“Nope. Just getting ready for an evening with your loud ass.” He gives you a pretend pout and flags the bartender over. Tae sits next to him and gives you a little wave and smile.

“Two whiskeys, make mine a sour and make his straight. From the high shelf.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung’s eyes widen comically, “Are you forgetting that payday isn’t until next week? I’ll take the regular whiskey down there, please.”

“Don’t worry. Kookie said he was paying with his RealiCorp money,” Hoseok stage whispers into your ear, “He’ll probably cover your round too.” You swat him away and turn to Jungkook, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You know I’ll cover yours. The rest of them, I don’t know.”

“What? Come on, you’re the youngest,” Tae whines, less than satisfied with his cheap whiskey shot.

“Shouldn’t that mean you guys pay for me?”

“N-no! Because you’re actually our senior now. You’re graduating this year, I’m the oldest technically but I’m not graduating until next year. We know these two aren’t graduating until the year after that,” he points to you and Tae, “Plus, you’re going to the PhD program next year. You should definitely be paying for us.” Hoseok has a point, you and Tae nod sagely to back him up.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’m in a good mood, so why not.”

“I bet you are,” Tae’s grin is big and catlike in the low light of the bar. His gaze a little lewd. “I would be too if I was one step closer to finally bagging a girl like Yoori.”

You look down into your beer bottle, the green glass suddenly much more fascinating than the conversation at hand.

“Did you hear,”Hoseok turns toward you,”Yoori is gonna come back soon and when she does he’s gonna make her Mrs. Jeon.”

“I’ll be sure to throw rice during the wedding,” you snark. The bartender brings you a new beer without another word. Taehyung howls at your comment.

“I’d kill to have a wedding night with her.”

“Hell, I’d kill to have a bathroom stall night. With anyone,” Hoseok sighs, “It’s hard out here for a comp-sci major. Right, guys?”

You hum in agreement. It had been a while since you’d last gotten laid.

“You’re right. I can’t even remember that geology minor’s face. Do you remember her? What was her name? Mara? Kara?”

“Sara,” Hoseok provides with a grin, “I think she has a thing for comp-sci majors. Kook, you ever hook up with Sara?”

Jungkook shyly traces a finger around the rim of his empty vodka class. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone.”

“Ever?” You try to keep incredulity from bleeding into your question.

“Ever,” he nods. He hiccups a little and all of the sudden you totally believe that Jungkook is a virgin.

“Dude, wait, I thought you hooked up with that one chick at the music festival last spring. Am I the only one who saw her?”

Tae nods in agreement. “Yeah, she gave you her hotel room key and everything.”

“It wasn’t like that. She told me her brother was there for a robotics tournament and I asked her if I could see the bot.”

You smile despite your sour mood. If there was one thing you loved about Jungkook it was his blind enthusiasm for STEM. Even if it made him a little oblivious to other things at times.

“Well, you better fix that whole virgin thing fast, bro. Chicks like Yoori probably want someone with experience. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.” Hoseok nudges Tae with a wry smile.

“That’s not just a Yoori thing, most people don’t want to have to coddle someone in bed unless that’s, like, their kink or something,” you take a large swallow of beer.

“Wait,” Tae says, eyeing you like he’s had an epiphany, “You’re a girl--”

“Didn’t we establish this 2 years ago? When we met?”

“No, no, I mean you can help Kookie so he doesn’t drop the ball with Yoori.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Help him how? Give him a sex-ed lecture?” You turn to laugh with Jungkook, but he’s looking at you seriously. Or as seriously as he can when he’s tipsy with unfocused eyes and blushing cheeks.

“You…don’t want to help me?” His voice sounds pathetic and small, making you feel bad instantly.

“Oh, Kook, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. But think about what that implies.”

“Is it because I’m a virgin?”

“Oh my god, Kook, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin don’t listen to us. We’re idiots.”

“Then why don’t you want to help me?”

Because I like you. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You obviously don’t say that, though. Instead you sit back in your bar stool.

“I-I would if I could, but I don’t know how to help you,” you finally say.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess the thought of being with Yoori makes me a little stupid.”

Desperately you search for a solution. Instead of finding one, you call the bartender back and order a round of tequila shots. Jungkook gives you a sad look but doesn’t ruin the mood by not taking a shot. You order two more rounds because somehow, even though he’s drunk, he still looks dejected. After your third shot you can’t stand the way his shoulder slump.

“You know what,” you slur loudly, drawing three pairs of eyes to your face lazily. “It’s getting late and we might not get to play Fortnite this weekend. Let’s all get to bed so we can be up early tomorrow to play.”

Tae points a wobbly finger in your direction, eyes suspicious. “When you say early, you mean after 2pm right?”

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to get their shit together enough to leave the bar. Tae and Hoseok keep losing each other in the bathroom. Jungkook keeps forgetting that he has to pay and tries to ask the bartender what he thinks about sub-atomic particle physics. Even though you’re drunk off your ass, you somehow manage to keep yourself responsible enough to wrangle Tae and Hobi out of the bathroom and guide Jungkook through the motions of swiping his card and signing the bill. The four of you then squeeze into the back of an uber. Hoseok whines about being lonely while sitting in the passenger’s seat. Jungkook’s bumps his hand against yours until he can firmly grasp it and get your attention before you pass out.

“Hey, can I sleep on the couch,” he whispers in your ear. His breath smells like alcohol and limes. You turn your head to chase the scent away and rest your head on his shoulder. You yawn.

“Sure. No problem, buddy.”

Your apartment is the first stop on the route and you launch yourself out the car and run up through your lobby and to the elevator to escape the cold of the air conditioner and the fluorescent lights. Jungkook lingers in the car until Tae pushes him out to make room for Hoseok.

“Kook,” Tae calls out as he helps Hoseok pour himself into the back seat.

“Wassap?”

“The only way to get good at sex is losta—lotta...lot’s a practish. Okay?”

“But-but…Who am I gonna practice with?”

Tae merely whistles and points a finger upward, gesturing to your illuminated window. The car pulls away and Jungkook sways unsteadily up onto the sidewalk with nausea clawing at his throat. Thinking of the stairs he’ll have to climb—because there’s no way in hell he’s taking the elevator, even in this state—he regrets not just going to his own first floor dorm. Does he really need to get sex counseling from you? There’s always porn, he muses before remembering the rant you’d gone on blaming porn for making a guy you’d been hooking up with try to do weird things in bed involving a summer squash. Looks like he’d have to rely on the real deal to get anywhere with Yoori. Oh, Yoori.

A shimmering vision of the beautiful girl with elegant eyes and an ever-painted smile floats in front of his hazy vision and gives him the strength he needs to hobble forward towards the lobby door with dedication.

Minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, but as soon you unlocked your door and made it to your room, you were wide awake. Even brushing your teeth and stripping out of your jeans didn’t to tire you out.

“Fuck,” you groan. You throw yourself onto your bed and hope that the way the room spins will lull you to sleep but when the spinning stops, your eyes still won’t stay closed.

The clock resting on your desk across the room reads 1:48am. It’s already clear that you’re going to be hung over, but knowing that it won’t be cushioned by a nice long sleep before you have to go to yoga at 12 makes you want to cry. You desperately wrack your brain for all the remedies there are to make you sleepy. You just canceled your cable last week to save some money, so you can’t veg out in front of the TV. You’re lactose intolerant, so warm milk isn’t an option. You’d take a warm shower but you washed your hair already and if you go to bed with wet hair your mother’s voice will haunt you all night with stories of the cold coming your way. Kicking your feet in frustration, you toss yourself over the edge of the bed to hang. Maybe all the blood will flow to your head and you’ll pass out.

You’re about to risk passing out and landing on your neck the wrong way and dying when a bright pink shoebox under your bed catches your eye. Of course, you think, how could you forget your precious vibrator. Luckily for you, a good orgasm or three always managed to knock you out like a light. You reach over and scoot the box forward with your outstretched fingertips until you get it close enough to reach inside and grab the petite tiffany blue bullet. Giddy laughter leaves your mouth as you heft yourself back onto your bed and fall back on the pillows with a contented sigh. Orgasms solve all your problems. You flick the device on to the lowest setting and ghost it against your clothed mound.

Jungkook is completely breathless as he leaves the center stairwell and finally arrives on your floor. The stairs were a bitch and a half, but your door is only two down from the floor entrance. He can practically hear the siren song of your pull-out couch. When he turns the knob to your front door, it doesn’t budge and he wonders if you must have locked it on instinct. There’s no way you forgot that he was staying over, he thinks to himself. Reaching above the doorjamb, he hunts for the spare key you left there especially for him. The door unlocks easily and he smiles to himself as he locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes. He’s about to face plant into the couch when you call his name faintly from your bedroom.

As he stumbles through the hallway slowly to your room, he thinks over what Taehyung said to him before driving off. To Jungkook’s drunk mind it makes sense, so it must be a good idea to seek sex practice from you. You’re the only girl he knows and he’s known you so long that he can already tell there would be no awkwardness. The sad look in your eyes as you listened to his predicament in the bar tells him that you want to help him, but you didn’t know what route to take. He flexes his hands by his sides and figures he’ll just tell you what Taehyung told him and get to coming up with a curriculum.

The door to your bedroom is half-open and the lights shine through the opening, so he figures you must be up and waiting for him. He can still hear you calling his name, but it still sounds oddly soft from where he is. He pushes the door open but freezes in his tracks when he sees you.

The first thing he notices is obviously the frantically moving hand you have between your legs and the loud buzzing sound that comes from it. He takes in more details the longer he looks. He realizes belatedly then that you’re not wearing pants. Thanks to the high prescription strength of his glasses, he can also see the way your hand and thighs shine and the huge dark spot in the crotch of your panties in the light of your table lamp. Your toes are curling and he can just make out the way your lower stomach clenches underneath the very same sweatshirt you’d been wearing to the bar. Technically he can’t see your other hand but he has a pretty good idea of where it is and what it might be doing with the way it disappears under your shirt. You can’t see him, though, because your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed. The only thing you’re probably at least partly aware of is the cacophony of wet sounds that come from where you work the nose of the toy over yourself. The last thing he notices is the way you call his name in a soft whining tone that has him stepping forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whine as the slippery heel of your hand bumps against your covered clit a little roughly on an upstroke.

“Yes?”

“What the hell,” your eyes snap open and your head whips around to see him leaning on the door frame as he watches you.

His eyes are heavy with alcohol and his cheeks are just as pink as the lip he releases from the grasp of his teeth. He reaches out and stumbles forward, causing you to scramble back to distance yourself from him. You bring your knees up to hug to your chest before you realize that you’re still very much on show.

“Jeon Jungkook, what is going on here,” you shriek, bringing your hands to cover your eyes only makes you feel a little bit better.

He sits down on your bed like it’s any other day and he’s just chilling in the room like you invited him over. And then you realize that you did kind of invite him over as fragmented memories of the recent uber ride you took together spring up.

“You said you wanted to help me, but you didn’t know how. But Tae told me I just have to practish.”

“Practish?”

“Practice,” he corrects himself.

“Practice what?”

“Practice sex. Duh!”

“Jungkook, no!”

“Please? I wouldn’t be asking such a huge favor if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why can’t you just go to a frat party like everyone else?”

Your heart is beating rapidly and you think maybe you’re not drunk anymore. Never in your life did you think you would turn down sex from Jungkook, but then again you never pictured it happening this way.

“Because I,” his head hangs and he starts to pick at a loose thread in your duvet, “I guess I missed out on this kind of thing when we were younger and I don’t think I could get very good results in a basement party. Plus, I know you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d be good to me.” He lifts his eyes to lock with yours. His gaze is oddly sharp despite the fact that his skin is still clammy like it gets when he drinks.

Your breath hitches and for a moment it does feel like the fantasies you have almost every other time that you settle into your room, lonely and horny. Jungkook laughs bitterly to himself and you can feel your resolve crumbling as something selfish rears its head in the back of your mind. He tries one last time.

“Please?”

You crack.

“Okay.”

“Really?” His eyes light up once more as he gives you a blinding smile. “Great. Let’s start!”

It feels as though you’re having an out of body experience as you watch him clamber closer onto the bed with you. Your legs naturally open to accommodate him and he scoots into your space, his hands falling to naturally stroke with the soft skin of your ankles. Even though he lacks experience, Jungkook has a leg up in that he’s naturally on the affectionate side. Something you can’t teach with any amount of practice. Even still, the idea that Jungkook will be sitting between your naked thighs makes your stomach do flip flops.You barely start formulating something to say that will sound educational when you hear him get ready to interject once more.

“God, what is it?” You worry that if he interrupts you one more time you’ll lose your nerve.

“I need a visual aid. And, uh, I won’t be able to see because of your, uh, undergarments.”

You’re certain that you’ve never taken anything off faster than you do in that moment. The panties fly into some far corner of your room and you can only hope that they don’t land in a clump of dust bunnies.

“Alright,” you stutter, “I don’t have to give you an anatomy lesson, right? Please tell me you at least know where everything is.”

“We took anatomy together in 7th grade,” he says like that’s a decent answer.

You roll your eyes. “Right, okay. Anatomy lesson it is.”

“What’s this,” you point at yourself.

“That’s the uh…entrance to the vagina?”

“Ok and?”

“It’s where the pleasure comes from?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Partial credit.”

“Isn’t that where the…phallus goes, though?” You decide it would be best to ignore his word choice for now.

“Yeah, I mean stuff goes in there but that’s not where all the pleasure comes from. For some people that’s not where any of it comes from.”

His eyes widen nervously. “Then where does it come from if not from penetration?”

You gesture again. “This is the clitoris.” His sweaty bangs flop over his lenses as he nods enthusiastically. Finally something he remembers.

“The clitoris,” he chirps affirmatively. You side eye him, but keep going.

“This little thing is basically there for the sole purpose of pleasure.”

“How do I activate it?” Again you blink at his terminology. Although you’d been a STEM freak with Jungkook for years, somehow he managed to baffle you with his nerdiness.

“Uh, you can stimulate it by touching it.” You draw a small circle in the air around the nub to demonstrate. “Like that, for example. You can also use your hands or your mouth.”

“Or that little blue thing you were using earlier,” he chimes in, reminding you of the embarrassing way this whole thing started.

You sigh. “Yeah. That too.”

“And that’s it?”

“No that’s definitely not it. We haven’t even touched the other places of pleasure or technique or foreplay. But this is a pretty good cheat code.”

“So what about the inside? Like the tubes?”

“There’s really not that much you need to know involving the actual reproductive organs themselves. We can just focus on the external bits for now.” You wince at how uncomfortable the discussion is.

“That makes sense,” his brows furrow seriously. He’s slow to blink, partly so he doesn’t miss anything and partly because he’s still fighting off tendrils of sleep.

“I mean,” you wring your hands anxiously, “that’s all you really need to know for now. It’s mostly learning on the go, anyway. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine. Don’t you think you could, you know, show me?”

“What is there to show?”

“How about you just continue…what you were doing when I came in.”

“Masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating when you came in.”

A hand flies to the collar of his shirt and he tugs on it sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You try not to focus on how weirdly awkward the mood is now that your lust has calmed down to barely even a simmer. You reach for the discarded vibrator that jumped out of your hand and landed by the edge of the head of your bed, but he stops you with a raised hand.

“Can you, uh, maybe do it the old-fashioned way? For the first time at least?”

“Right, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Jungkook sits back on his heels patiently and watches closely as your hand trails a path down your torso to the apex of your thighs. The first touch, though you know it’s your own hand, has you twitching a bit. You bite your lip hard to focus and circle your entrance to coax out more moisture, then you move back to circle your clit. You close your eyes in hopes that not being able to see Jungkook’s gaping expression will help. It does, a bit. After a few moments, you let out a breathy sigh and sink further into the pillows. You plant one foot more firmly on the mattress to give yourself some leverage and push yourself more into your circling hand. The slight increase in pressure has you moaning and your eyes fluttering. You peek through heavy lids to see Jungkook’s expression has also changed. His eyes, clear just a second ago, look glassy again from behind his lenses, his mouth slack and shiny. The rise and fall of his chest is a bit heavier. You let yourself think it’s because of you and go back to collect more arousal to increase the slip.

Apparently, you’re more turned on than you thought. When your middle and ring fingers wander down to your hole they come back pleasantly slick. Something in you suddenly feels rebellious, so you use your free hand to spread your lips further and bring your coated fingers up to Jungkook’s face. You flex your fingers and separate them to show crystalline streaks of arousal connecting them.

“Just so you know, this is a good sign.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Somehow, even though you’re still wearing socks and a baggy sweatshirt, you’re hotter than all the completely bare, busty women he’d watched moan and writhe wildly on his computer screen. He reaches out and delicately grabs you wrist before redirecting your hand back to your dripping center.

“Keep going,” he rasps.

You whine and begin to rub your clit more earnestly, lewd wet sounds fill the room. He can practically see your lips getting wetter and wetter as you redistribute your arousal with every rough swipe of your fingers. Your wrist is moving fast, but it’s clear that you’re becoming frustrated with all that you can do with one hand. Your other hand quickly moves to take over making tight figure eights around your clit while the one already coated in your juices moves back down to your entrance once more. This time, you crook two shining fingers and shove them into your hole. Immediately your back bends and a drawn out moan leaves your mouth. Jungkook gasps quietly. You pump your fingers in and out roughly, then withdraw them to add a third finger.

He watches you like that for a while before you get fed up again. It’s been a while since you’ve been so needy and you feel like you’re on fire. Your toes curl impatiently on either side of Jungkook and he realizes you’re looking for more. On instinct he scoots further until his own legs are brushing up against the undersides of yours. His hand reaches out to pet your quivering thigh in a sympathetic effort to help with your plateau. He looks down at your hand, twitching feverishly in and out of yourself. His hands are much bigger and suddenly he moves like he’s about to replace your fingers with his own.

When Jungkook’s hands start to approach your center your breath hitches. You’re not quite in the right state of mind to reject him if he offers to finger you, but you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and make it any more emotionally complicated than it already is.

“Not yet,” you offer when his hands get too close for comfort, “Next time, maybe.”

He seems to be thinking the same thing and averts his attention to the forgotten vibrator. His grip on your thigh disappears, and you sigh quietly, but it’s hidden under the slick sounds you make each time your fingers get sucked into your heat and the low moans you make every time your pinch your clit just so.

“W-what do I do?” His voice is small and his sudden worried look has you wrapping a hand around his and bringing it to show him how you click the toy on and circle it around your entrance.

His hands are sweaty, shaky, so when your hips start to circle on their own, they move to find a resting spot on your thighs and squeeze to deal with the tension rising in his own belly. He grits his teeth, clenches his hands, does anything he can to keep from overstepping and making this about him. As obviously cliché as it sounds, seeing you sweating and moaning underneath him lets him see you in a new light. You’d always been around, but your presence as a woman in his life was backgrounded at best. Now, with Yoori momentarily not clouding his mind, he wants nothing more than to ravage you. He’s almost certain that if he tried, his lack of experience wouldn’t matter too much. He’s sure his body would be able to act on baser instinct and give you the what you wanted. If you wanted.

Your moans change in pitch and soon he’s aware that this will be the first time he’ll have been privy to someone else’s orgasm in real life. His dick is painfully hard and straining against the jeans he’s wearing. But he forgets the discomfort fast as he watches you grind yourself down against the toy in a way that is absolutely filthy. Your bottom lip, shiny and reddened, is pulled taut between your teeth in ecstasy. Your eyes flutter open and lock with his own. You focus and notice his blown-out pupils look huge within the depths of deep brown irises. There’s no denying he’s turned on once you flick your gaze down to his crotch and see the large tent in his pants.

“I—I think I’m gonna…Oh!” Your leg kicks out on its own like some electric current runs through you. Your voice breaks as the waves of your approaching high begin to take over you. One of his hands inches upwards a bit and strokes the tense muscle near your groin softly, at a loss for words. “Oh god, Jungkook, you—” keening, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One of your hands reaches up to squeeze at his bicep as he’s leaning over you. He wonders in the back of his mind when he got so close to you. Your leg hooks around him like it has a mind of it’s own and tugs him down, forcing him to topple over you. That’s the last straw and you sob from the intense pleasure. Meanwhile your warmth and proximity and your words prove to be a deadly combination and within seconds he’s spilling over himself in his boxers, untouched. He lets out a low groan that puffs against the side of your neck.

You both sit there and breathe for a long while, catching your breath and coming back down to earth. He sits up eventually and pulls away from you, leaving you cold. Your legs flop from around him heavily. You’re a bit irritated when you realize you won’t be able to walk normally for a while. He discretely wipes his hands off on your duvet while you wipe at the sweat soaking your hairline.

“That’s it, that’s the show,” you finally say.

He shoots up and looks at you anxiously. It’s cute. “You mean until next time, right?”

His eyes are wide and imploring as he hovers over by you. He looks a bit like a turtle from this angle. A cute one, though. One that you want to play with again next week. You nod even though he might have all that he needs to do well with Yoori, being the fast learner that he is.

“I guess so. Same time, next week. Do some research for next time maybe. Make sure it’s from something not involving the medical library.”

“Got it!” He turns and waits until you’re not looking to adjust his pants.

You notice his hair is sticking to his forehead when he finally stands up. And there’s a cowlick sticking up in the back that reminds you of middle school Jungkook, before he met Yoori. The idea of the other girl, the girl he’s really in love with, dims your post-coital glow. Although, you suppose you have her to thank for this evening’s events. How else could you have ever managed a one-sided romp in the sheets with your long-time crush?

Both of you take turns using the bathroom to clean up. While he hums in time with washing up, you slip panties on and debate about whether or not to throw your sweats back on. You decide that if you’re going to play this off like it hasn’t changed your relationship, you should put pants back on.He comes out looking pink and clean and you want to pull him back into your bed and wrap yourself around him.

To protect his glasses from the dangers of the bathroom, he left them in your room. Squinting, he walks with hands out to collect them. When he puts them on he doesn’t look at you and instead pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes around while leaving the room.

“Heading out,” you ask with a quasi-disinterested tone.

“Yeah, I remembered I have to run the Saturday tutoring session this week. So I might as well go home so I can get ready for that. You should come, you know. Your test scores dropped 2 points this week.” Typical Jungkook. He couldn’t ever fully leave TA mode.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, but that’s still an A.”

“Maybe we can try this again next week the same time?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Cool, I’ll put it on my calendar.” He lifts his phone to his face to tell the digital assistant to pencil you in for next week. You try not to grimace at becoming a date in his calendar app.

“Get out already, you nerd.” You push him out after he puts his coat back on, but you do watch out the window to make sure his taxi comes.

#btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bttnetwork #btswriters #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario

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multiphandomunnies · 5 years

Text

universe is against me | kwon eunbi

requested by @fictionalromancewritingblog: Can you make a schoolAU of IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi where the student council president reader is working late and suddenly receives an upsetting phone call(family issues or smth) and breaks down in tears. Eunbi saw it and comforts the reader and they eventually get together? Please make it a mix of fluff and angst. Thanks. warnings: none authors note: i wrote this really fast but thats because im in the mood to write admin: mirae

There were some days where it felt like the universe had something against you like its sudden purpose was to ruin you, to see you break down into tears to the point you could no longer walk. Today was definitely one of those days, no matter what you did nothing seemed to be going right.

It had all started off in the morning when your alarm didn't go off and you were running late. As student council president it was always your job to be early and help the teachers unlock parts of the building such as the janitor's closet and storage rooms. There was a 99.9% chance that they didn't need to use the janitors closet or storage rooms that early so it was kinda pointless, but of course, you were running late on the one day they needed you.

Right as your foot stepped place into the school grounds the principle was yelling at you for being late, they needed to print an important document and have it sent to the courthouse by 8:00am and it was already 7:45am. The printer ran out of ink and they needed into those rooms, stat.

After that whole debacle, you were confronted by the head of the soccer team. A couple weeks ago the soccer team agreed to help with the schools prom which was in a week. Nakamoto Yuta, the captain, was here to tell you what they could no longer do it as they were going on a team bonding trip. “Without you guys I have practically zero help! We really need you,” you tried to beg him to stay but Yuta insisted that the team bonding trip was extremely important.

Your back was pressed against the uncomfortable hard chair, you were sat alone in the council room. All the other members had something to do today which meant you had to figure out how to set up the prom all by yourself. All the other sports teams already denied you and most clubs were busy preparing for their activities or stressing over what to wear or who to take to prom.

Checking the list of possible clubs that may be of service your eyes landed on one, the mathematics club. In your mind, the stereotype of the mathematics club was strong. You pictured them as those scrawny and weak losers that had no life. You knew that wasn't true but in this case it was, all of them looked as if they would break lifting more than 20 pounds. No way in hell could they help. “The cheerleaders might be able to help,,Joy is in my class and she might be willing to pitch a hand,” you thought to yourself. “God,,could it get any worse than this,” you grumbled. Glancing at the clock you noticed that it was already 6pm, most clubs were getting out by now. “Great I spent 2 hours doing nothing,” everything was starting to get to you.

Grabbing your bags you sighed, mind clouded with worry and fear for what to do. A loud vibration interrupted your thoughts, picking up your phone you noticed that your mother had tried calling you 3 time already. Your heart sunk to your stomach, it was never a good thing to have so many missed phone calls from your parents. “Mom! Hey whats up? Huh? What,,is grandpa gonna be okay? Yeah don't worry I'll be fine,” your voice was cracking.

Of course things could get worse, your dearest grandpa fell down the escalator and got stuck, he couldn't get up and they had to stop the whole thing. He broke his arm and apparently had his skin torn in multiple places. Both of your parents were going to stay in the hospital with him which meant you would be all by yourself. Your throat closed as the tears poured rapidly down your face, blurring your vision. “I fucking hate this!” you screaming loudly, at this house it was unlikely that there were still students. “Why are you doing this to me!” you yelled at the sky, lungs feeling like they would fall out.

Eunbi peaked through the small crack in the door. Kwon Eunbi was a new student and a member of the cheer team. The lovely girl had heard that Yuta canceled on you, she knew that you needed help and she came to offer her service. When she got to the council room though she overheard your phone call.

“Y/n,,I'd like to help you with the prom and,,and whatever is going on right now,” Eunbi said while pushing the door open. Surprised by the sudden intrusion you jumped in shock. Eunbi didn't give you time to answer as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her warm embrace. The feeling of her holding you tightly helped soothe your tears, your chest started to feel lighter.

“You want to help with prom?’ you asked while pulling away and wiping your tears with your sleeve.

“I already talked to Joy. Her, Mina, Chaeyoung and a member of the photography club are willing to pitch in,” Eunbi gave you the warmest most motherly smile you had ever seen on a young girl.

“Oh my gosh that's amazing, thank you so much,” you gave her a tight hug to express your appreciation.

“Yeah it is. Now that that's over, lets go get some coffee and you can tell me about whatever is bothering you,” Eunbi laced her fingers with yours. Maybe the universe really did know what it was doing when it decide to try and ruin your life this morning.

#eunbi imagines #eunbi scenarios #eunbi fluff #eunbi angst #eunbi reactions #izone imagines #izone scenarios #izone fluff #izone angst #izone reactions #admin mirae

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yoosungs-hairclips · 5 years

Note

heya!! i wanted to request hc’s for RFA with a methyphobic mc? i get rlly nauseous and terribly anxious (shaking, stuttering, sweating, tearing up, etc) when alcohol is around me or mentioned. my mom was a pretty horrible alcoholic, and that’s where it sprouted ^^;; my friends and family all think i’m weird for it, but i experienced a lot of trauma bc of alcohol, so it makes me feel rlly bad when they don’t try to understand. i was hoping for a bit of comfort through this!! thank you so much!!

yes of course!!! im so sorry that your friends and family say that, that is totally valid and it’s awful that you have to experience that! i’m super sorry if some of these sound repetitive or basic, i tried really hard to convey how much the RFA would care about you and respect your phobia, but i’m only human haha.

1,899 words, 10,051 characters

Yoosung

it comes out when you’re playing LOLOL together with some mutual friends of yours

one of them mentions how they just got back from buying beer from the nearby 7-eleven and how they’re gonna get wasted later that night

you want to say how uncomfortable you are, but out of fear of seeming “uncool” to yoosung’s friends, you stay silent even though you’ve been talkative all night

after around 10 minutes, the friend actually does bust out some of the beers and starts drinking

that’s when you start to really get nervous

as soon as the match is over, you start scrambling for any excuse to log off for the rest of the night

yoosung notices this, and since you two are literally in the same room, he spins in his chair and starts asking you what’s wrong

you remind him that he forgot to leave the match and it’s still going on,

but he doesn’t care about that dumb game right now.

he just wants to know what’s wrong and what he can do to help

after a lot of hugging, you finally tell him about your methyphobia

he’s a little taken aback, as he’s never heard of it.

but when he thinks about how much his friend was mentioning alcohol he gets

really irritated at his “friend”

you have to tell him that his friend didn’t know and that it’s okay but he still insists on telling him how uncomfortable he made you

after a long back and forth, you realize there’s no stopping him

as if he read your mind, he immediately shoots up to his computer and starts typing

then, when he’s taken care of that, he takes your hand and starts reassuring you again

he’ll never let any mention of alcohol touch your ears again, not if he can help it

and he means it.

he’s really glad that you told him so he can try preventing something like this ever happening again

he never, ever wants you to be uncomfortable.

that’s the last thing that you deserve.

Zen

you’re trying to catch up on social media and your favorite TV shows when you hear keys clicking outside the apartment and the door creaking open

as soon as you look over, you see zen stumbling in

from the look on his face and his posture, it’s easy to tell that he’s had a horrible day on set

you try to comfort him and make conversation, but he only mumbles in reply while getting a beer out of the fridge

moments after he pops it open, your palms start getting sweaty and you freeze

you try to tell him that that makes you uncomfortable, but your voice only comes out as murmurs

“did you say something, jagiya?”

mkfadgmkklgadbmlwfklmbfmklfwkmlbaefl

you try again, stuttering out a more coherent statement on how mentions of or especially the presence of alcohol make you extremely anxious

right away, his eyes go wide and he sets his drink down

he sits down next to you on the couch and looks in your eyes, staying silent but you know what he’s asking

you gulp, take a deep breath, and tell him about your methyphobia and what it means

he has to ask a few questions, such as why this came to be and the like

when you tell him about your mom, he’s disgusted with her

he can’t believe it? how did such a wonderful person come out of such a bad family situation?

you really cannot believe he asked that when he came from a bad family too

after a lot of talking and venting from you, he promptly throws out all his alcohol and promises never to drink any or mention it to you again unless you’re okay with it

if you ever start panicking while eating out he’ll be by your side in a flash, rubbing your back and giving you breathing exercises or whatever you need

he’s 100% supportive of you, and he’ll give up any bad habit he needs to if it helps you at all

Jaehee

it’s a sunday, and a lot of families came to the café after church together

it was packed all day

when you get home, you try to unwind by binging jaehee’s bottomless collection of zen DVDs

she’s a little late, telling you she has to get something from the kitchen really fast and asks you if you want anything

you refuse, you’ve had dinner and you already have water

she understands, and dashes off

after about a minute of you setting up the DVD, she comes back with a cheese plate and a wine glass

as soon as you see the crimson liquid in the glass, your hands start to vibrate and shake furiously

you try to hide it by holding them tightly, but she notices before you tuck them away in your pockets

“is s-something wrong?? did i do something??”

she’s, so worried,

you’re a little hesitant to tell her but you’ve been dating for a few months and you have to tell her eventually, right?

through shaky breaths, you explain your methyphobia and why it came to be,

everything.

she never interrupts you, purely focusing on listening to you until you’re done after about 3 and a half minutes

afterwards, she apologizes for never asking if you’re comfortable with her relying on drinking wine as a stress reliever

she says how she doesn’t blame you in the slightest for not telling her sooner, it’s hard to trust people with such sensitive information and she would have struggled with it too.

you have a really long conversation about your lives and everything you struggle with talking about to others

you both forget all about the DVD

after you tell her that you’re starting to get sleepy, she dumps out the wine, puts the cheese away, and gives you honest to god the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten from someone.

as well as a kiss on the cheek heehee

she gives you a lot more cuddles that night

and when you’re both awake, she delays the shop opening so she can do as much research on methyphobia as a woman could possibly do in one morning

she’s very sensitive about it afterwards, and always makes sure that you don’t get reminded of alcohol (when she can help it)

Jumin

you’re playing with elizabeth the 3rd and waiting for jumin to come home when you get a call

speak of the devil!!

you pick up almost instantly, asking him how work is going and telling him what elizabeth has been doing all day

he lets out a small .. nose exhale? of a laugh before telling you that he actually called you to inform you of a sudden change of plans for the afternoon/evening

you’re really excited! you’re usually just stuck in the penthouse all day, without anything to do

so any chance to get out is a good thing, especially with jumin

right? eh

he continues, saying how he has to go to an event for work purposes

it turns out there’s a nearby wine tasting and there’s a lot of potential customers there

as he went, the smile on your face slowly fell until he said the word “wine” and any sign of joy was smacked out of you

your head started spinning, you were spluttering trying to think of an answer

“o-okay, i’ll s-s-see yo-you the-there”

fuck. shit what the fuck

he notices your panicking, but decides not to say anything and save it for later

“i’ll see you later, yes. have a good afternoon, my love. excuse me.”

and he hung up

and you sat down

and tried to gather your thoughts

fuckkrignnrjgts.df.g.t.gnntghntg/h.mgfnue3rnfnnsae943203t0reend what the, god damn,

you try to rationalize. you don’t have to be there for long. as C&R’s heir’s wife, you have to go to a lot of events

and all you had to was hold on to his arm and look pretty

if just most of the people there saw you with him, you could probably sneak off and go home early

so that’s what you decided on.

you picked out your dress, got one of the maids for advice on accessories, and you were ready to go

you were in the middle of psyching yourself up to leave when the door opened and your husband walked in

he commented on how nice you looked already, and excused himself to go change

it was about 10 minutes before he came back out and started to dial driver kim’s number

you had to say something

“w-wait.”

then it all came spilling out, the fact you couldn’t come to the wine tasting, your past alcoholic mother, and your horrible case of methyphobia

jumin stood there paralyzed for about 5 seconds straight before straightening up and

“okay. i’ll see you tonight then.”

??????????? WHAT

you really did not see that coming

he just… accepted the fact you couldn’t go

he could see the surprise in your face

you told him how you really expected him to be more dramatic about it, making a big show about how you had to be there.

“i’m hurt that you thought i would ever force you to do anything you would not like to. your comfort is more important than my image, MC.”

you basically imploded on the spot

jhhohOOOOOH my god

you thanked him profusely, and told him to have a good time

he gave you a kiss

and then headed out

when he came back, he gave you a lot more affection than he did before

“affection” can mean whatever you want it to 👀👀👀

to be honest, i’ve been thinking for a while and i really just couldn’t think of a scenario about 707 drinking or bringing you into a situation where people are drinking? im sorry, i tried my best doing random HCs i thought of. it’s a lot less coherent than the other ones, but it’s better than nothing.

707

when he finds out, he’s shocked

what!

because you don’t really take medication or anything for your phobia since… you don’t need any honestly, there was no way for him to know via background check

he’s very sweet about it

even though he’s constantly memeing and joking around, he’s extremely cautious making jokes about alcohol

if anyone DARES to make fun of you for it or degrades you

honey

they’ve got a big storm coming

he’ll probably put a photo album of his cosplaying going on their phone for the next few months

lol

this boy understands anxiety, so if you ever are uncomfortable because it’s been mentioned or someone around you is drinking, he’ll either try to distract you with jokes or if need be, ZOOP you out of there right away and calm you down

he’s so much more protective of you, especially in public

if you tell him to stop he’ll stop though

he just wants you to know he’s always there for you

because you’re always there for him

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jaeh1 · 5 years

Text

melodia - lee taeyong

summary: Taeyong had never found a melody hard like this, but he was so happy he did, indeed.

pairing: Taeyong + female!reader

warnings: none!

song rec: Gravity by Monsta X! youtube / spotify

words: 2k

a/n: hhhh, i had this one saved on my portuguese writings, and WHY NOT translate it???. I wrote this one with Jooheon, but eventually changed it to Taeyong alsjdalkfj. ANYWAYS, enjoy this thing, i really don’t know how to tag it, is it fluff? minor angst maybe??? but im 100% it is fluffy fluff. thank you for reading!!!

[masterlist]

an interesting composition

Who is this girl?

The stunning one he saw every day at the bus stop, so early, but with a different destination from his. Damn it. Let’s blame buses, he thought, as she, across the street, was waving to the bus that came and got in when it stopped, not even looking at Taeyong’s curious eyes, at the other side who, coincidentally, took the next bus to the opposite direction.

Life sucks, he thought, and maybe it really did. But sometimes, even though in a small majority of those times, life decided to be cool, and it had prepared something for those two people at the end of that day, at a subway station, going to the same place.

they handed him the papers

There was nothing new about her day, it went just like the others before. Maybe it was the elastic she had forgotten at home, or the mint gum from a different brand she bought to try, but it was a bad idea. But still she felt like there was something very different going on. She pulled her hair from her back and tossed them by the side of her neck, which has no effect, for they always came back to her back because of the train in movement.

And stopping at the next station is that the boy she watched with the corner of her eye every day came in, and as the wagon was empty, he would soon found a place to sit. She almost lifted her arm and said the sit beside her was empty, but she didn’t need to, as he stared at the spot, before looking into the bright eyes that always watched him.

Taeyong couldn’t be happier to see that the girl who impressed him with such a beauty every morning was right there, sitting on a blue chair next to his, he gave her a small smile, which she returned, even though she thought it was something wrong to smile at strangers, but he was so cute, and she saw him for a couple weeks now.

But at the same time Taeyong called himself a dumbass, she probably was there every day, and he did not even notice it.

repeat mode

The first thing he did when he got home was remembering all the moments of the happening in his head. They got off at the same station and it took them a few seconds to say goodbye. Taeyong almost told her that everyday he saw her at the bus stop, just across the street, but he left it for later, since he could pull up the subject in the next day.

He repeated her name a few times just because he liked the way he said it, smiling a little silly. Who would ever imagine that? Lee Taeyong was falling in love with the girl he saw every day at the bus stop and was lucky enough to meet her on the subway.

He tried to sleep, but the smile she gave him when he said she had beautiful eyes tormented him until he was asleep. Not that it was bad, though, he would not mind if it was the cause of his insomnia every day.

hard chords

She threw herself tired on the sofa of the apartment she shared with a friend. She sighed as she remembered how her job was slipping through her hands because of a crazy girl who chatted with the head of her department. The girl for sure invented a million things about her, and that wasn’t good, since even the managers began to look at her differently.

While preparing something in the kitchen to eat, she could not keep her smile to herself when she remembered the handsome face, now named Taeyong, with a beautiful smile and kind eyes that caught her attention every day in the late afternoon, and maybe he was a distraction from the bad things that had been happening to her. Not that it was bad, it was great.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts as she tried to cook something she did not even notice when her friend arrived from college, watching her smiling like a fool, holding a frying pan, staring at the cupboard. The friend smiled, going to the bedroom. It was rare to see her smile, and when she saw it, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

reading the sheets

The weeks that followed were the best. They saw each other at the beginning and end of the day. They now had each other’s phone number, sharing some funny stories, complacent looks, and lots of smiles. They agreed to go out on the following Saturday afternoon that they were coincidentally off duty, and found they lived on the same block, and once again Taeyong wanted to beat his own ass for being so oblivious.

It was an interesting walk in the cold autumn sun, with leafy alleys falling from the trees, while Taeyong showed her places in the neighborhood where she didn’t go before. As she showed her truly self to him, making him impressed, the more he thought he knew about her, the more he had yet to discover, and that fascinated him, she was the most interesting girl he had ever met in his life.

He showed her his most precious part when he put one of the earphones in her ear, gently, and used it as an excuse to touch her hair and pull them behind her ear as he stared into her eyes. The beat they heard was already known to Taeyong, but to her it was something different and she could hear it tirelessly until the day of her death. And it was with the sound of a piano mixed with other beats, that he leaned slowly until he touched her lips, sealing them without haste.

Until she got up quickly, jumping up, running away, while Taeyong sat there on that sidewalk at eleven in the night, not knowing what to do. He got up quickly, ready to run after her, but the girl had already disappeared into the crowd.

the rhythm is kinda complicated

His texts didn’t have any reply, and Taeyong didn’t see her on the subway anymore, he even tried to walk through all the wagons, but there wasn’t a trace of the pretty girl with bright eyes and sweet lips. Taeyong was worried and desperate. He didn’t know where she lived and it did hurt him, he wanted to see her, he wanted to be able to apologize in person for having kissed her too soon.

He tried to call her number, but it was turned off.

Meanwhile, she had her face in the pillow, her friend stroking her hair, listening to her sobs. She had been fired without any prior notice and was told she was in a relationship with one of her co-workers, the same guy she'd dumped because she wasn’t interested on him.

She thought about how unfair life was, and how it all went wrong, didn’t giving her a chance to smile a little. And Taeyong came to her mind, the guy she left standing on the sidewalk in one of the graffitied alleyways at the central area of their neighborhood. And then her phone vibrated once more.

She remembered how she felt like the happiest woman in the world when she could finally feel those red lips against hers, and howl that terrible feeling that he only wanted to play with her heart once again filled her whole body, the joy she felt at the moment contrasting with fear. Her only way out was to run away, so far away that Taeyong couldn’t see how miserable she felt.

finding a beat

They were, face to face, in a coffee shop, after much insistence and a text that her friend had sent through her phone to Taeyong's number. It was a little cold, and her hands clasped the hot chocolate with that famous symbol on it. She looked anywhere but couldn’t look at the boy in front of her. He looked annoyed.

The truth was that Taeyong just didn’t know what to do, since she was the one who had sent the text, then just sat there, and while he waited for her to arrive, he had drunk all the black coffee he had asked before when she arrived without looking him in the eyes, and sat in the chair across from him.

They even spoke a little "hi" but since the hot chocolate had arrived, nothing else had happened. Even so, Taeyong felt a little more alive, because he could finally see her beautiful eyes once more. Maybe it was the last time, but he'd do his best not to.

Then she opened her mouth to speak, and gave a dull smile, followed by an apology, which was accepted without any problem. Then, they stayed there all afternoon, until it was so late, that he took her back home, leaving her at the entrance of the building, where she had a surprise for Taeyong.

taking the tone

Her eyes glittered in tears as she told the boy in front of her what had happened that week. Taeyong had not bothered to ask what had happened before because, after all, they hadn’t known each other for that long, he didn’t want to be so intrusive in subjects that she probably would not want to talk about, but he couldn’t stop himself to feel guilty for not asking before.

But there she was, once again astounding him, falling apart as she spoke a messy korean, kneaded to Taeyong's chest, he was stroking her hair, and occasionally wiping away the tears that never ceased to flow through her beautiful eyes. She told him about almost her entire life, and Taeyong felt so important that, from that day on, he swore he would protect her forever, and that he would never leave her alone.

They were still holding each other for a little longer, and it was such a comfortable hug that she never wanted to leave, but he reminded her that it was almost midnight and that he needed to work the next day, but that he would go back there to see her. He kissed her forehead, saying he would tell her when he got home.

the final version

He had a small office in the apartment he lived that he turned it into a studio, which was where he spent most of the time when he was not working, exactly on an underground record label with some friends. And it was there that, some days later, he decided to take her, so that she could know a little more of his work.

Talking about nothing really, after a few beers and horrible jokes, Taeyong looked her deep in the eyes with the most sincere look one could have, and, holding her hands inside his, he said everything that was stored inside him for a few days.

He said how his life had changed in an abrupt but good way, that she didn’t get out of his thoughts not even for a second a day, that he loved to spend the weekends talking till sunrise, on calls that lasted for hours, when they didn’t necessarily speak something. He told how he was completely ready to make her the happiest, most complete, and most loved woman in the world.

That he would take away all her fears away. That she didn’t have to be insecure about past because he was willing to create a future, with her and for her, where it would be just the two of them, caring and loving each other, above all things.

And she, after a few seconds with teary eyes, took all the breath she had and said what she wanted the most since the moment they went out for the first time.

"I love you, Taeyong. From the first moment I saw you on that train, I love you. When you sat down with me and laughed at my bad accent. When you took me out. When you showed me that incredible song, and when you kissed me. I …”

And the last words could not be said because Taeyong, at that moment, kissed her again, tenderly. His lips moved in enviable timing. Nothing could compare to the touch of Taeyong's lips on hers. And she was already sure that she was the happiest woman in the world, from that very moment.

And they stood there on that comfy brown couch all night, telling secrets, sharing caresses and kisses, until she slept in his arms, and Taeyong felt like the happiest man in the world. For he had her, his favorite melody, so mysterious, and he had the pleasure of being able to play it. Every day in repeat mode.

#writings #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong fluff #taeyong x reader #taeyong angst #not really angst tho alskfalsfk #nct imagines #nct scenarios #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct 2018 #nct taeyong

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yeoldontknow · 7 years

Text

Cover Me

Author’s Note: happy birthday @yeolology <3 im just managing to sneak this one in for you <3 in your time zone, it is no longer you birthday but when you wake we will continue the celebration <3 welcome back to chanvember everyone!! enjoy more fluff that i am not used to writing! Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Summary: On your birthday, you search frantically for your boyfriend’s hoodie only to find it is no longer there. Genre: fluff; romance Rating: PG Warning: minor swearing Word Count: 1,841

Technically, the hoodie is his.

His money paid for it, his hands chose it, loved it, without you in mind - years before he met you, and still suiting his taste even after you decided you liked it, too. Technically, it was never something you could rightfully call yours. Even though you wore it, even though you kept it, even though you imagined it was his body and his skin that kept you warm, breathing the scent of his cologne deep into your lungs while you wrapped yourself in the soft fabric, it still belonged to him.

Technically, these are technicalities, semantics. In the end, they mean nothing when it comes to true ownership, true devotion to a thing. His hands offered it to you first, lips pulled into a smile every time he saw it hanging low on your thighs. Mutually, it was decided that you would keep it, appropriating it to meet your needs: a sweater, a pillow, a comfort blanket, a cloth for your tears of frustration. It became him, amorphous and black and, therefore, able to be whatever you decided it could be.

And now, when you needed it, him, most, it was not here.

It’s not that your birthday is bad - far from it, it’s just that, without Chanyeol to turn every moment into something exciting, the moments in your day simply become pleasant somethings. Generic, pleasing things that fade without truly leaving a mark or imprint upon your soul.

Hugs from your family, cards from friends, the notion that tonight you will be taken to dinner and allowed to order all your favourites, these feel warm and sweet, like honey, delicate and wonderful. But, without Chanyeol’s touch or gregarious laugh, they fade almost instantly into your long term memory.

Without Chanyeol, you imagine a future version of yourself will look back on this with a furrowed brow and your tongue tucked behind your teeth, concentrating almost too hard to bring the memory back to life. In the end, all you will be left with is a summation of happiness, nice thoughts and dull colours. The notion that, I cannot remember anything terrible, so therefore everything was fine.

In the morning, you’d woken to a series of texts each more enthusiastic than the last.

Yeollie[4:12 AM]: ITS YOUR BRITHDAY Yeollie[4:13 AM] - Message sent with Confetti: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeollie[4:13 AM]: HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY Yeollie[4:15 AM]: i missed midnight Yeollie[4:15 AM]: im the worst boyfriend Yeollie[4:16 AM]: forgive me? Yeollie[4:17 AM]: i want you to wake up knowing i love you Yeollie[4:18 AM]: youre annoying but youre still perfect Yeollie[4:18 AM]: reading week was only last month but i already miss you Yeollie[4:19 AM]: i miss your knees and how they bump me in bed Yeollie[4:20 AM]: and how your showers take too long Yeollie[4:21 AM]: and how soft you are Yeollie[4:22 AM]: its your birthday and i love you Yeollie[4:23 AM]: ill call later today Yeollie[4:24 AM]: ill go back to sleep now Yeollie[4:25 AM]: MAYBE WE CAN MEET IN DREAMS!!!!!!

Waking to these felt like a paradox. At one moment, you wooned into your pillow, hands still stiff from sleep and unable to type a reply. Laughter spilled from your chest and into your pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut as your smile started to border on painful. Every text was read in his voice, loud and demanding your full attention, rich and luxurious, and settling over your skin like feathers. Each word was chosen carefully for you, delivered with its full intent and said because they came naturally, because they were the only words he could fathom alongside you.

But hearing them in his voice meant accepting the cold understanding he was not there, imagination bringing forth the noise and the warmth of him against your skin. With your eyes closed, it was his voice in your ear as he spoke and his arm draped over your waist to hold you to his chest. You heard and felt these things with cruel tangibility while you basked the blackness of your mind, and opening them meant separating yourself from his adoring touch.

And so because your morning had started with him, because your birthday made little sense without him here to share it, you craved the fantasy of the hoodie, the easy way it made you believe he was near. Tearing through your room, it soon became apparent it was missing, neither in your closet nor in your laundry. And as you continued to search, you realized you hadn’t seen it in far too long.

With a final glance around your room, undesired clothing strewn across your bed and chair and floor, you sigh at the mess and pull out your phone, defeated.

Y/N[12:31 PM]: yeol wheres my hoodie? Y/N[12:31 PM]: :( :( :( Yeollie[12:36 PM]: which one? Y/N[12:37 PM]: the black one Yeollie[12:38 PM]: you have a lot of black ones tbf Y/N[12:39 PM]: you know which one i mean!!!! Yeollie[12:40 PM]: when was the last time you saw it Y/N[12:41 PM]: last time you were on break Yeollie[12:42 PM]: a month ago? Yeollie[12:42 PM]: how would i know where it is now?? Y/N[12:44 PM]: IDK! Y/N[12:45 PM]: maybe you took it Y/N[12:46 PM]: did you take it? Y/N[12:46 PM]: istg if you took it Yeollie[12:48 PM]: is it taking it if it was originally mine Y/N[12:48 PM]: chanyeol. Yeollie sent a Photo Y/N[12:49 PM]: CHANYEOL Yeollie[12:50 PM]: WHAT Y/N[12:51 PM]: T____________T Yeollie[12:52 PM]: it smelled like you! Y/N[12:52 PM]: THAT DOESNT MEANT YOU CAN TAKE IT Yeollie[12:52 PM]: ITS THE BEST PILLOW I OWN Y/N[12:53 PM]: YEAH BUT Y/N[12:53 PM]: LITERALLY Y/N[12:54 PM]: SAME Yeollie[12:55 PM]: it smells like your shampoo Yeollie[12:56 PM]: like youre with me just after a shower Y/N[12:57 PM]: ok but Y/N[12:57 PM]: now i have nothing to wear today Yeollie[12:58 PM]: you have…. Yeollie[12:58 PM]: clothes Y/N[12:59 PM]: omfg Y/N[12:59 PM]: im so mad Yeollie[1:01 PM]: don't be mad Yeollie[1:03 PM]: i love you so much Y/N[1:04 PM]: youre holding my soul hostage Yeollie[1:05 PM]: id rather hold your heart Y/N[1:05 PM]: FUCK RIGHT OFF LMAO Y/N[1:06 PM]: stop being cute Yeollie[1:07 PM]: no Yeollie[1:07 PM]: go outside Y/N[1:08 PM]: why Yeollie[1:09 PM]: just do it Y/N[1:09 PM]: what did you do

Excitement makes your fingers start to tremble; confusion molds your brow into something hard and quizzical. It takes a mighty effort, controlling your synapses and keeping your heartbeat steady. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t run through your mind a speed that takes a second to process their motions, body hesitant and apprehensive. Part of you feels as though you’ve swallowed your tongue, mouth suddenly dry and muscles turned to stone, wary of disappointment.

While it is not entirely out of the realm of possibility he would drive the many hours to see you, it’s also wholly like him to orchestrate something extravagant even when he is not here to experience it with you. And while you will be grateful for whatever lies in your driveway, the lack of his physical presence will hurt deep and down into the wetness of your blood.

So you brace yourself, close your eyes and wait for the shallow inhales of your lungs to become deep and languid.

As if pressing you for action, your phone buzzes in your palm.

Yeollie[1:14 PM]: stop overthinking and go outside

A great tidal wave of emotion consumes you, tears welling in your eyes as you move through your house and out to your drive.

Of course he would. Of course he would.

He runs to you the moment you throw the door open, long limbs stumbling and struggling to carry his tall gait. Chanyeol is a large blur of white teeth and pink ears, hair tucked beneath a black snapback.

It happens quickly, the arms around your waist and the scent of him consuming you. Beneath your ear, his heart thunders, excited and fraught with emotion - much like yours. Around you he is firm, grip on you tight and breath cascading into your hair, warming you and soothing you, both acting as though the height difference does not exist.

‘Happy birthday,’ he murmurs as his fingers press into your back, steadying himself as much as you. ‘You really thought I’d miss this?’

The wetness on your cheeks is hot, tears gently seeping into your pores without your permission. This is not like you. You are not one for emotional displays, but the relief you feel reaches down to your toes. Bewildered, it takes you a moment to answer, mind caught in a fog of realizing that love and loving are two different things; that you love your family, but loving Chanyeol means days are only special because he is there to make them so.

‘How the hell would I have known?’ you laugh, pressing your nose into his sternum. Your skin recognizes the fabric and, on instinct, you cling to him a little tighter.

Chanyeol scoffs in mock offense. ‘Yee of little faith.’

‘You were here last month. It’s such a long drive.’ On instinct, you take a step back to pull away to peer up at him, wanting to search his face and find all the pieces of joy he keeps tucked into his cheek bones. But he holds you too him, unyielding and unwilling to let you depart from him so soon.

‘You’re more important than the gas,’ he reasons, softly.

‘The gas is expensive.’

‘And you aren’t,’ he teases quickly, and you can hear his smile. Against your best wishes, you smile with him.

‘Ass,’ you laugh. ‘When did you take that picture?’

He laughs, deep and rich, the sound vibrating down in your bones. ‘A few weeks ago. Waited for you to wonder where it went but you never asked.’

Comfortable silence settles between you, time slipping by in unmeasured moments. Chanyeol’s touch warms your skin, raises goosebumps of affect and only when he shivers slightly to realize the air has taken on a chill.

‘We should go inside,’ you sight.

Against the crown of your head, he nods.

‘I brought the hoodie home,’ he says, sounding content.

‘That’s okay,’ you whisper, raising onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. ‘You can keep it for now.’

At this, he pulls back to regard you with surprise.

‘For now,’ you smile, ‘I just want you.’

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