#also she is like BLASTING her music so maybe uh don’t do that if you’re worried about waking people up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goatskickin · 1 year

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Welcome back! When we last left, our heir Faith and her roommate Bettina were in competition over the bigger bed, and their moms were seeing them off to Brainia U.

How have the girls been doing away at college?

After Bettina and Faith got settled into their charming ramshackle student house, the only thing left to do was get used to living with each other.

“Bettina, shut the computer off. Let’s go out.”

“Just a minute! I only have until midnight to submit this response for class.”

“So? You’ve got hours then! Let’s go!”

“I am trying to get ahead here. I am doing homework. Ever heard of it?”

“Don’t be an asshole. My homework is just different than yours.”

“Oh sure, I forgot…don’t you like have to pretend to be an orange or something? Do a monologue about fading beauty or some crap?”

“I need to print off my monologue for class actually, so let’s go! Let’s go to campus!”

“Fine.”

Faith has tried to make the most of Brainia U’s many student centers, as well as every local hangout.

The actual students at Brainia U are a mixed bag however.

“O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!”

“Wow, nothing? That’s the best Ophelia I’ve done all week.”

“Everyone’s a critic.”

“People are idiots Bettina. Doesn’t anyone know anything about art around here?

…

Aren’t you going to have any chili? I mean, if you want to have some tomorrow once the flavors have melded that’s totally fine…”

Bettina quickly finds out just how often her roommate cooks. Maybe it’s a comfort thing.

But it is almost constant. Bettina never goes hungry.

Bettina approaches college life a little more quietly than her roommate. She has never been away from home, and she’s also never lived without her twin, Wade.

Now that she is living (almost alone), she’s found that she’s the kind of person who finds quiet, solitary activities to be stimulating.

How they spend downtime is not something that Bettina and Faith agree on.

“HEY! It’s 8pm! What the fuck is that noise! I’m reading!”

“Well, in Act 3 of the play I am auditioning for –“

“YEAH maybe you don’t need to do that right now! Thanks!”

Bettina does have her own connections on campus outside of Faith.

“Yah gotta come over. My roommate, she’s kind of a lot to handle, but she makes this bomb vegan lasagna! It’s way too much for two people.”

Given that Brainia U had been isolated for decades, its population has subsisted off the left-behind non-perishables for the college-aged set. Fresh fruit and vegetables are a thing that only Pitstop Valley locals have. There are no resources or plan to get produce to Brainia U.

Thankfully, Faith has brought enough spices, vinegars, tomato paste and nutritional yeast to make any food taste homemade. Or at least less like packaged ramen noodles and canned vegetables.

“Bettina! Where is my microplane!”

“Your what?”

“My microplane! With the green handle? Did you put it in a funny spot?

“What?! You…something about a tiny plane?”

“What?! No, a microPLA – oh, found it.”

“Bettina. Guess who I talked to at the quad today. Guess.”

“Uh, I don’t know Faith. You’re kind of keeping company with a few different dudes right now.”

“Ah, ahHA! HA! You’re so funny. Like, hilarious. But no, guess.”

“Uh…”

“John Choi.”

“Oh my gosh, fuck you! No, you didn’t!”

“I did!”

Yes, John Choi. This pink-hatted, monocled man is a high-value slice at Brainia U.

“So, John, why pink? Such a powerful color.”

“Pink speaks to me, you know? And I guess it’s speaking to everyone else too.”

“I mean I also saw your friend Skylar on campus, later on.”

“Oh, he’s cute! Why don’t you ask him out?!”

“Oh, I dunno…”

“He likes you Faith! He’s totally smart, and he’s in our history lecture – “

“Oh man, that professor has such a droning voice I fall asleep every time! Why have a lecture right at 2pm? That’s nap time.”

“Ask Skylar to take notes for you! That’s how you can start talking to him!”

“Well, then why don’t you date him, if he’s so great?”

“He likes you Faith! You’re gonna scare him off by being – “

“By being what, Bettina!”

Faith’s keeping her options open. As a Family sim, the end goal is marriage. Obviously.

“So, you’re not worried about prolonged hot tub exposure and your future sperm production?”

“My…my what?!”

“What do you mean you do use your laptop right on your lap?! Don’t you know that’s a recipe for low-yielding baby gravy?!”

Faith has many options.

All she has to do is choose and make her move.

Provided that all parties agree to the arrangement.

“You calling me a hoe Bettina? Because that’s fine! At least I am putting myself out there.”

Even so, Faith’s not much of a charmer.

So, it remains to be seen if Faith “putting herself out there” will produce any worthwhile relationships.

“Faith you are impossible. I love you. Dumbass.”

“Of course, you do. What about you? What about your dude, that guy from your biology lab? SeaBass?”

“Can you not call him that?! His name is Sebastian.”

“I’m working on him, okay?”

“He’s a warlock, you know? Him and his twin. Like, my mom is kind of old fashioned when it comes to magic stuff, but male witches do exist, they are just like, more rare? And his twin – “

“Ooh, a twin? Should we double date? OOH! Double wedding ceremony?!”

“Listen! I haven’t even like…like, okay I am working on it. I think Seb knows that I like him.”

“He’s just like, shy or whatever. Maybe they do things differently in Pleasantview.”

“Or he’s some kind of freak. Or his dick doesn’t work. Or he’s blind.”

“My focus is on school. If something happens with Seb, so be it.”

“Okay, sure grandma. But like, have fun and look around. What’s the harm?”

“It’s a numbers game, babes.”

“You failed our 11th grade math class.”

“It’s simple numbers. You cast a wide net and you pull some back. I’m being economical.”

“Um, how? And didn’t you fail economics too?”

“Fuck off! I got a C-.”

“Maybe you should be a little more…selective? Like, I get wanting to see what’s out there, but there’s some real duds dudes Faith. Why waste your time?”

“What do you mean? Like who?!”

“Like that guy you saw at the park on campus? Komei?”

“Ehh…shut up…”

“HA! How did that go down exactly?”

“He was nice enough! But he moved way too fast for me.”

“But! I also saw this other guy. Leo?”

“The guy with the shitty beard?! EW! Faith!”

“What! You are so judgmental!”

“I’m not committed to anyone right now. I have lots of options.”

“Marriage is the goal, though.”

Talk of boys aside, there is only one boy who has all the girls on campus losing it: John Choi.

No one can resist him, and boys want to be him. For some reason.

John Choi is more than “kinda okay”. He’s hot stuff!

Faith wants to talk to him.

As do all the other ladies on campus.

Fortune favors the brave!

“Gosh *blushes* I wish that were me!”

“Gosh, John Choi is so smooth.”

“Gosh…I wanted to hit on that blonde girl…”

No luck for Tempe. John Choi has claimed yet another First Kiss from a lucky dormie.

Faith is not deterred; she’s a practical gal and takes the opportunity to chat with the competition. She finds out from Blonde Dormie the coffee shop Mr. John Choi frequents and takes Bettina along for a scouting mission.

“Shit, she was right, he’s here!”

“Shh! Let’s get an espresso.”

Bettina ends up having a front row seat to this scene, however. John Choi to the rescue.

“Balls. Look at that. We will never have a chance with John Choi now…”

“Lucky bitch.”

Tina Sell is the lucky bitch in question.

“Well, we still got coffee and the day is young. What next?”

“Don’t you have to like, go to class or something Faith?”

“So…your hair feels like wool, right? Can I touch it?”

“Never mind Bettina. Let’s fucking leave.”

Luckily, Brainia U is full of marriage prospects for Faith. Like Skylar here. He and Bettina are pals. They met engaging in some after class activities.

Somehow, against all odds and logic.

Faith nabs a First Kiss from Skylar!

Skylar’s a pragmatic guy, it turns out.

“So, your plans after school are to try and make it as an actress?”

“Or a singer. Or both! I could always fall back on modeling too, I suppose.”

“Hm. So, what’s Pitstop Valley like? I’ve never left Bluewater Village until I came to school.”

“Uh, I don’t know it’s fine, I guess? Small town, nothing to do, but my parents live there.”

“Hm. So kind of a landing spot until you figure things out, yeah?”

“What’s with all the questions, Skylar?”

“Just thinking about today’s history lecture. I mean, we are the first class that Brainia U has had in 65 years. That’s only because of the work that your mom and your aunt Mercy did. Getting the school set back up for students, getting the students here, getting faculty – “

“What the fuck? Did you just come over because you wanted to kiss the girl with the semi-famous mom? That’s kinda – “

“Don’t you worry about the future? About the future of Pitstop Valley? You guys have an active militia, everyone can go to school, you have an athletic team! You guys have actual fruit and vegetables – you know not everyone has that, right?

I’m just saying, Pitstop Valley has the potential to do even more. Don’t you think about that? Don’t you want to be a part of that? I would.”

“Uh, I’m going to dance class. See ya Skylar.”

“I don’t think that Faith likes me, Bettina.”

*zzzz* - “..wha? Oh, she does Sky, she just has a funny way of showing it.” *zzz*

Faith is a complex young lady. She spends a lot of time on campus husband hunting, but she also is a huge fan of the campus Cinema. She considers it research, but also a way to meet people.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

“No.”

“What I am saying, is if multiple scenes in a row are shot at Dutch angles, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of what a Dutch angle is supposed to mean? If it’s all Dutch angles, then is the spooky and unsettling tone of the scene actually the ‘norm’ of that universe? You know?”

“What do you mean! Give me an example.”

“Well, like in Battlefield Earth – “

“What, that piece of trash! You can’t – “

“Just because a piece of art is bad, does not mean it can’t be a part of a discussion about how an art form is portrayed. Like, if – “

“Faith, what about – “

“Shut up Tempe. Anyway – "

“What, so we should take a critical lens to every romance novel and kids movie? Is that what you’re saying?!”

“No. What I am saying is that movies, books, plays, whatever – it doesn’t have to be ‘art’ to be viewed with a critical lens.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“I can’t say I agree. Art reflects the time it was made in. Pop culture is important.”

“Yeah right!”

Not everyone likes healthy intellectual debate.

“Ugh, is this a commercial for perfume or a new Terrance Malick movie?! Someone get me the remote.”

Bettina has a weekly call with her mother, on Tuesdays after her Biology lab.

“Hey ma! This is Brainia U calling.”

“Hiiiii baby! HI! Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice! What’s new? How’s the semester?”

“Oh god, I adjusted my microscope too fast in my biology lab today and totally cracked the cover slip and the slide beneath it. Total rookie mistake, so embarrassing.”

“Aww, well I am sure you didn’t mean it!”

“I sure did not! Embarrassing though…anyway, can I ask you a witch-related question?”

“Baby, of course! Are you finally thinking about following the family tradition?!”

“Haha, maaaa, when you say it like that it makes me not want to tell you about this, haha.”

“Oh! Ha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll shut up. What is it?”

“Well, I know that you know that clean up spell? For cleaning? I’d like to learn it.”

“Oh of course hun! But you know, it’s really more for water-based messes. Can I ask why?”

“Well, I wanted to know about that spell kinda for selfish reasons.”

“Faith makes a lot of food in our house, but she leaves behind hella dishes! And I’m tired of it, sometimes I don’t want to have to wash a fork, you know?”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the food. Like, who makes pancakes that as leftovers that taste good! I’m not complaining.”

“Good! You’d better not complain. That’s my grandpa Patrick’s Crème de la orange pancake recipe. You’d be some sort of tastebud-less freak if you didn’t like it.”

“Is that Faith? Tell her I said hi! Gosh, she still has quite the mouth on her. Has she heard any news from her mother?”

“…wait, what? What do you mean ‘news’?”

“Well, I love our weekly calls, I just love hearing from my baby girl! But you know, I don’t know what the relationship is like with Faith and her mother? So, I was just wondering, since she’s left, if Faith has heard from her at all?”

“Ma, what are you talking about? She left? What do you mean ‘left’?

“Oh! So, Faith doesn’t know about this. I’m sorry Bettina! I thought that Faith knew! Does she not know?”

“MOM. What are you talking about? What happened to Genesis?”

“Well, you know I got in the helicopter with Mercy after we left Brainia U, and Genesis was not in the helicopter with us! Mercy said that she’d decided to do some on-campus research.”

“Uh, okay, so she’s here at school then?”

“Well, that’s the thing – we aren’t really sure? I mean I talked to Mercy about it, and – well you know I just adore her, but something seemed off, you know? Like, she seemed a little shaken up, and I asked her about this on-campus research that Genesis would be doing, and Mercy was pretty tight-lipped about it. And the other day, I was visiting Cheyenne – oh! They took Binx’s last kitten, the one with the orange ears! So cute! She’s got –“

“Ma. Ma! About Genesis?”

“Ah? Oh! Yeah, so, anyway, so it seems like Genesis didn’t tell Justice she would be leaving? Justice is all alone in that house.”

“Oh. Um, weird. Like, is he okay to be alone? I know he’s kinda loopy and whatever.”

“Well, you know as resident ‘Good Witch’ I am checking up on him, but I can only do so much, you know? Actually, the intern at Pitstop Radio, she’s well uh, I’ll need to talk to her again, but she – "

“Mom, so like, Mr. Springs-Eternal is all alone and like, Genesis is here at campus?”

“Yes, I think so! It’s just that it doesn’t seem like she let Justice know ahead of time? I was concerned, and Mercy doesn’t seem to know a whole lot about the situation either. I was wondering if it was something that was discussed with Faith and Tempe.”

“Um, like, I don’t think so…I’ll talk to Faith about it.”

“Hey Faith? I –“

“It’s whipped chickpea tofu in the pancakes, if you were wondering.”

“…wha? Oh, okay that’s…no, I wanted to talk to you about your mom.”

“Ha, what? What about my mom?”

“Well, I had my call with my mom and…did you know she’s not at home right now? Like, your dad is alone at home?”

“What do you mean she’s not ‘at home’?”

“Well, my mom said that your mom hasn’t been at home, she’s doing some on-campus research, but like, it doesn’t seem like she told your dad? Or like…did you know about this?”

“Oh what, so she’s been here, and she hasn’t told me, or paid me a visit? Ha! Sounds like something she would do. She’s like, obsessed with work. Whatever.”

“So…that doesn’t bother you? You didn’t know that she wasn’t at home?”

“Um, no? Like, she’s obsessed with the whole thing of like ‘educating the future’. And like, liking human beings as a concept but not like, in practice ya know? No wonder she got abducted.”

“Jeez Faith, that’s kinda harsh.”

In addition to feeding her roommate, Faith is a natural teacher. Though she would not admit to following in her mother’s footsteps.

Specifically, she wants to teach Bettina how to kick some ass. Because guys like buff girls. According to Faith.

“Okay now reach back and STRIKE! Don’t twist at the waist and don’t lean in too far. We need to develop your weak right hook.”

“Oh, um…hi-YAH!”

“Yes! Now, less floppy with the wrist. Again!”

A little self defense could come in handy at Brainia U.

“Howdy-hey! Are you able to support our team this Saturday?! It’s the quarter finals! How are you not totally pumped about this?!”

“Hey, no offense, but you’re being kind of distracting. We need to finish up this lab report.”

“Babba chooda rum, Babba chooda Ka, Veedum adda beedum adda bonk bonk bonk! Verbits, Verbits, VO GERBITS!”

“Uh, heh, yeah, yeah…okay? We uh, we taking a break? If that’s the case, I am going to play some SSX 3 dude…”

“Hey, Bettina, come sit. Sit! You’re working too hard on that report…

…where did you get that sweater? It’s nice and all, but like…it doesn’t show off your figure? Just saying…”

“…I’m going to make myself a sandwich…you can go…”

Babba chooda rum, Babba chooda Ka, Veedum adda beedum adda bonk bonk bonk! Verbits, Verbits, VO GERBITS!

*zzz* “Huh? EH?! God, you’re still here?!”

Luckily, Bettina’s roommate has a more direct way of getting rid of unwanted guests.

“Hey! Vo Gerbits! Excited for the quarter finals?”

“Well yeah! I’ve got a new routine and me and the other mascots – “

“Hey so…you seem like a man who knows what he wants. And I know what I want.

You know, most fragrances cover up a man’s real smell, you know? I’ll bet you don’t mind working up a sweat. A man’s sweat. I’d love the opportunity to – “

“Whoa, heh, okay, heh, okay! Um, I um, I – you know, I think I’m late for practice?”

…

“You are literally a psycho.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? That guy was being a total creep.

…

You want tofu bahn mi? I’m starving.”

Faith continues ponder the husband question. Serdar aka Fancy man is interrupted by her on his way to class.

Faith knows an interesting prospect when she sees one. She takes the opportunity to get to know him better.

“Hey! Serdar, right? You’re in my costuming class? Man, when are we going to actually move on to using sewing machines, you know? I’m sick of mending. If I have to fix another buttonhole, I’ll die.”

“No kidding! I’m not an infant, I don’t need to go over how to do a blanket stitch.”

“Hah, right?!”

Serdar proves to be quite the interesting person. He and Faith share a love of fashion. And Faith’s other favorite hobby, cooking.

“Why not become a chef, Faith? Those were some awesome peanut noodles! What was that acidic element…champagne vinegar?”

“Oh, you’re too sweet! But, no, just regular sherry vinegar. I’d never be a chef though. Late hours, burns on my arms all of the time…not to mention, dealing with all of that kitchen machismo. No offense.”

“None taken!”

“Though you know, I could always put out a cookbook myself! Later on, after I’ve had my acting career? Plus, what I really like to do is cook for friends and family, not like, the masses.”

Serdar turns out to be more friend material than anything. Faith does not mind, however. She’s in need of positive friends who build her up.

“Okay…least favorite fake blood in a movie. Go.”

“Oh! Um…Taxi Driver. It’s awful. It looks like liquid strawberry jelly. Maybe they did that for the rating.”

“Naw, Taxi Driver got an R. But good pick!”

“Thanks! Okay…what’s the best fake blood you’ve seen in a movie Serdar?”

…

“12 Monkeys.”

“REAlly! It’s…oh yeah, at the end, the scene in the airport! Shit, good choice.”

“Have you thought about what you want your short play to be about for your capstone project? I think a riff on a scream queen thing could be totally doable.”

“Well, I am really considering like a Southern Gothic, Tennessee Williams thing, but I’m worried that that would be too ambitious...”

“No, that sounds awesome! You could totally pull that off. Would it be a spoken word thing?”

“Bettina, move, I gotta shower.”

“You have someone over last night to play chess? Huh, looks like a good game.”

“Yeah, Serdar, you know him? He’s pretty cool actually.”

“Oh, you mean Fancy Man? Reallyyyy. So, you’re interested in him then?”

“No no, not like that. We’re just homies.”

“Plus, I think Serdar is gay.”

“What, just because the guy has a kooky sense a style?! That’s kind of close-minded Faith.”

“No, it’s not because of that! I think he is though. I have a feeling he is, even if he doesn’t know it.”

“Uh huh, sure. “

“How’s it going with your dude?”

“Ugh, nowhere?! He’s like, I don’t know what to do…he’s shy and I’m shy! I want him to make a move…but only if he likes me back. It’s hopeless.”

“Bettina, I have an idea.

Let’s invite our History lecture out to the Culinary Arts building, and I’m going to make some food and you are going to invite SeaBass and he is going to fall in love with you.”

“Don’t call him – wait…yeah, no, yeah! That’s a good idea. It will be like, low-key, low-pressure group hang thing, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

While the girls can’t have parties (Show Business restriction), there’s no rule against to going to community lot to hang out with whomever is there.

Especially if a certain young Pleasantview warlock is there.

Faith breaks out her grilled kim-cheese sandwiches, naturally.

“Sebastian! H-Hey! Can I ask you a magic-related question? I think you’d know more about this than me.”

“Hi! Sure!”

“Ha, heh, okay! So Aqua Deletus – can that spell apply to more things other than just puddles of water? I am curious. And what would I need exactly?”

“Oh, sure! Really, you just have to adjust the end incantation and make sure you have more Eye of Newt than you’d think you’d need.”

“Wow, sounds easy! Like um, could you like, help me out with that? I don’t have a cauldron. Could…do you have one? Could you show me how to use it?”

“You…would want to come over? So that I can show you?”

Yes. That is indeed what Bettina was hinting at.

“Kim-cheese sandwiches get it done! It’s the husband maker.”

“I think that other than being famous, that this is what I want to do with my life. Throw parties where I cook for people.”

“Um, I’m sorry, who are you? I don’t like spicy food.”

“I think that other than being famous, that this is what I want to do with my life. Throw parties where I cook for people.”

“Uh, yeah! Thanks for the sandwich, Faith.”

Faith’s really into anyone who likes her food.

“Gosh, you know Sean – “

“Um, my name is Shea?”

“You know Steve – I could get used to this. I just love entertaining! What better way to spend an afternoon than being with people you want to have around, eating, drinking and being merry?”

~~~

That will do it for this chapter!

Who will Faith choose for a future spouse? Will Bettina get to learn some magic? Will ‘magic’ happen between her and Sebastian Dreamer? Is Faith going to share her grandpa Patrick’s Crème de la orange pancake recipe?

Until next time, Carry On, Woman!

#sims 2 story #apocalypse C.O.W.#apocalypse challenge #sorry about all of the heavy chapters lately #but some plot had to happen first #back to basics #aka llamas talking about food jokes etc.

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backtothestart02 · 10 months

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I'm Not Saying You're Dating (But I'm Also Not Saying You're Not) - 2/3 | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Felt inspired. Enjoy. Also posted on AO3 here.

...

Chapter 2 -

“Linda?” Iris said into the phone as quietly as she possibly could.

“Yes, Iris?” Linda asked at a normal sound level, extremely amused by her best friend’s antics.

“Are you alone?”

“As alone as I can possibly be,” she confessed, falling back onto her bed. “Want to join me, so I can be less alone? And also, so you can tell me why you’re whispering?”

There was a pause, then, “Sorry,” but Iris’ whisper-tone was only slightly louder than it had been a minute ago. “Barry’s in the shower,” she said, by way of explanation.

“Shouldn’t the sound of the water drown out your voice then? And the door being closed? Unless you’re peeking again. You’re not, are you?” She sounded very tired all of a sudden.

“What?! No! That was a- a one-time thing!”

“Uh-huh.” She clearly didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press. “So, if the door is closed and the water is on…”

“Oh, god. It just turned off. Lin, I gotta go.”

“Oh, no, you don’t! Shut your door and blast your music. Tell me what is going on with you!”

“I…uh…okay. Just…give me a second.”

A few seconds later the sound of the door slamming and music blasting could be heard.

“Well, he definitely heard that,” Linda drawled, but Iris wasn’t back on the phone yet.

“Iris? Are you okay?” could be heard distantly.

Linda sighed to herself.

“Yes! I’m fine! Don’t worry about me! I am doing great!” A few more beats, then, “Okay, I’m back,” she said in a semi-quiet normal tone, given the music.

“Iris, where are you?” Linda pressed this time, since the music sounded somewhat muted.

“In my closet.”

“Oh, my, go- Do you need me to come over? I can make an excuse to get you out of there and then we can talk about whatever you’re not telling me, then-”

“I might be pregnant,” Iris blurted.

“WHAT?”

Iris didn’t answer.

“Iris…whose is it?”

“I didn’t take a test.”

Linda frowned.

“A DNA test or…?”

“No-no-no, a pregnancy test.”

“So, you don’t even know if you’re- Has it been a- Whose is it?”

Iris took a deep breath and let her secret spill out.

“Barry and I had sex last night.”

Silence.

“Linda?”

“Well, damn.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Um, finally? I thought you two were never going to go at it. Every time I came over the tension was so thick, I thought I was suffocating.”

Iris cleared her throat.

“Yes, well, we did it without a condom, and now his mother is coming over for dinner.”

“His mother?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He told her?”

“What? No. No, of course not. I guess his dad’s out of town, and she wants to swing by to meet the new roommate, a.k.a. me.”

“I gathered.”

“It couldn’t be worse timing.”

“I don’t even know what this…is between Barry and I. Now his mother is coming for dinner? It feels like I’m being introduced as a potential girlfriend, not a roommate. We haven’t even talked about last night. Not really. And now I might be pregnant! Like!” She sighed, aggravated. “I’m just overwhelmed.”

“I can see that.” She licked her lips. “You sure you don’t want me to come over.”

Iris shook her head, then realized her friend couldn’t see her.

“No, definitely not. Barry wants me to go grocery shopping with him for tonight’s meal.”

“Aww, that’s cute.”

“Yeah, so cute. So coupley.”

“And that’s not what you want? To be a couple?”

“I don’t know what I want!”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

She sighed.

“Okay, fine, yes, I want to be with him. I want to be…his girlfriend. But what if he doesn’t want that? Should we really be putting on labels just because his mom’s coming to meet me?”

“Well…”

“We need to talk about it is what we need to do.”

“But first maybe get some Plan B.”

“What?”

“Plan B? At the drugstore? Or, there should be a pharmacy inside the grocery store. They probably have it there too. Then you won’t have to worry about the pregnancy thing, and you can focus 100% on the relationship thing and the mom thing.”

“Of course! Plan B. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re spazzing. It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.”

“Thank god.”

A smile flickered across her face.

“Okay, so take a shower, get dressed, discreetly grab some Plan B when you go shopping, so as not to freak him out, and dress in something cute for dinner.”

“I’m making brownies. Barry suggested it.”

“Good call. It’s the only thing you can make.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Love you, ‘Ris. Call me if there are any new developments.”

“Love you, Lin. Bye.”

She ended the call, stepped out of the closet, and turned off her music. Then, grabbing some clothes and a towel, she swung open the door to find Barry standing there in just a towel, water dripping from his damp hair in sexy lines down his chest.

“God, you’re hot.”

Barry smirked, but it vanished in a heartbeat.

“Everything okay? I called your name a few times. No response. I figured it was the music you were blasting after you slammed the door and locked it?”

Iris winced.

“What’s going on, Iris?”

“Nothing!” She clutched the clothes closer. “Just, uh, had to talk to Lin real quick. It was an emergency.”

“Hers or yours?”

“I…uh…” She slithered past him out into the hall, not speaking until she reached the doorway to the bathroom. “Mine, actually.”

His brows furrowed.

She pursed her lips, then leaned against the doorframe.

“Okay, don’t freak out, but I’m going to have to stop at the pharmacy when we go grocery shopping.”

He blinked.

“Why would I- Are you sick?”

“Not sick, but…I could be pregnant.”

His face paled.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I just need to pick up a little something to amend that, and then I’ll be good.”

He chuckled nervously and wrapped his arm around the back of his head.

“Right. Of course. Sorry about…that.”

“Not your fault.”

“I should’ve had-”

“I was the one who insist-” they both spoke at once, then laughed.

“I’m going to take my shower now,” Iris said, before looking away bashfully.

“Take as long as you need,” he said.

“Right.” She smiled timidly and shut the door behind her.

Barry stood there for a moment, digesting what could be if they did nothing, and the reality – really – of what had transpired between them.

“Could be pregnant. Wow.”

He shook his head and ducked into his bedroom, quickly changing into fresh clothes for the day before heading into the kitchen to make some breakfast for himself and Iris.

…

The rest of the morning and afternoon went smoothly. When Iris came out, she was still acting a little shy, but Barry’s talent in the kitchen had her shifting a bit on the high wooden stool where they ate together. His pancakes were amazing, as were his biceps in the t-shirt he’d put on. As for her, she’d worn a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. Nothing too special, but when she hopped off the stool to slip into her strappy heels and sling her purse over her shoulder, she caught him staring at her legs and smiled to herself. Maybe they were on the same page still after all.

Entering the grocery store was slightly more awkward, because of what she’d told him earlier. They talked over each other a bit and laughed to cover it before Iris said she’d make a beeline for the pharmacy and meet him in the deli where he’d snag the steak. Barry agreed, and sure enough, five minutes later she was clutching a box in her hand that she promptly dropped into the shopping cart when she found him ordering the steak at the counter.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he said, pausing in his order to glance over at her.

“Hey.”

Then they both looked down at the box in the cart, and the attendant had to clear his throat to get Barry’s attention again.

“Right, sorry.”

He finished ordering, and Iris smiled smoothly, shooting him a ‘thank you’ after they’d gotten the meat handed over.

“That was awkward,” Barry muttered under his breath.

Iris briefly squeezed his hand.

“No more than my experience was, I assure you.”

He relaxed some, and they finished shopping.

When they got back home, it was still early in the afternoon, so Iris announced she’d be doing some studying until it was time to start cooking and baking. Barry thought that was a good call and offered to join her, but she declined.

“It’s nothing personal,” she said when he frowned. “I just…don’t think I’d be able to concentrate.”

A smile flickered across his face then, and she knew he was thinking about the fact that they had picked up condoms. But studying was important too, so he didn’t push it, and Iris retreated to her room where she tried her darndest not to relive the memory of them fucking on her bed the night before.

It wasn’t easy, but she managed.

And when the time came to cook and bake, they alternated so as to not run into each other in the kitchen. Iris’ task was easy enough that she didn’t feel the need to shower again afterwards, though she did steal a fraction of a brownie for herself when she thought Barry wasn’t looking. Then she ducked back into her room and got ready for the main event.

…

At six o’clock sharp, Nora Allen showed up on Barry and Iris’ front doorstep.

She was practically glowing and took Iris into her arms immediately.

“You must be Iris.”

“And you must be Mrs. Allen.”

“Oh, please, call me Nora. What fun is it to be formal these days anyhow?”

Iris laughed nervously and shot Barry a look, to which the man shrugged helplessly.

“I hope we’ll get to know each other well, Iris.”

She squeezed her hands warmly, and Iris felt a trickle in the corners of her eyes. She had a great mother at home, but something about the genuine love pouring out of Nora now made her want to have a second mother in her too.

Was that too forward?

“I hope that as well, Nora.”

Nora smiled and released her, walking further into their quarters.

“So, who’s going to give me a tour?”

“Uh…”

“Why don’t you go ahead, Iris?” Barry suggested. “It’ll give me a chance to get the food on the table.”

“Smells heavenly, honey,” Nora said, squeezing her son’s arms affectionately.

“Oh, I didn’t make all of it.”

“No?” Nora’s gaze cut straight to Iris.

“Iris made the brownies.”

“Ooo, can’t wait to try those.”

Iris chuckled and blushed.

“Here, why don’t we start with the living room and patio.”

“Lead the way…”

Barry smiled and shook his head, then set the table, poured the wine, and joined them as they were on the last leg of their little tour which consisted of Iris’ bedroom and made Barry blush a little.

“Oh. Didn’t know we were here.” He cleared his throat.

“Young man, are you blushing because you’ve never been here before or because it’s cleaner than yours will ever be?”

They all laughed, but Nora noticed that Barry and Iris’ laughter was a bit strained, and that their gazes were diverted away from each other. She found that interesting.

“Dinner’s ready,” Barry announced, as way of a transition, and they all circled back around until they reached the white tables and chairs set up in the middle of their shiny kitchen.

One bite in, and Nora was already moaning appreciatively.

“Well done, Barry. Your father would be proud. My father would be proud for that matter.”

Iris looked between the two of them.

“Why is that? Were they chefs?”

“My dad was. Barry’s dad, I fear, is not the best. But don’t ever say a word of that to him or I’ll lose marital points.”

Iris smiled easily.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Barry watched both women interact for a while and unknowingly became the target for his mother’s keen detective work. It wasn’t all too difficult, given how smitten he appeared when he looked at Iris specifically.

“So,” Nora said, after taking another sip of the wine she’d raved about all evening. “How long have you two been together?”

Barry and Iris froze.

“Uh wh-wha-”

“We’re no-”

“Don’t try and deny it. A mother knows her son.”

Barry blushed madly.

“Mom, we’re just roommates. I promise.”

“Friends,” Iris clarified.

“With benefits?” Nora asked innocently.

“Mom.” Barry’s eyes bulged.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m ruining our nice evening. You’ll tell me when you’re ready, I’m sure.”

Barry and Iris shifted awkwardly.

“Say, where’s the bathroom again? I fear I might have to use it after all this wine, which is probably also the reason I’ve been so outspoken.”

“Just down the hall to your left,” Iris said, since Barry appeared unable to.

“Great. Thanks. Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be right back.”

Barry and Iris didn’t say a single word, but they both drank their fill of wine, and by the time Nora came back, they were feeling much better about how to transition the situation. Barry brought out another bottle of wine, and Iris retrieved her brownies.

“Ooo, brownies! Yay!” Nora cheered before inhaling their scent. “I can’t wait to taste one.”

Gushing, Iris scooped out the biggest piece right in the middle for her.

“We’ve got some vanilla ice cream too, if you want to add that, Mom,” Barry said, starting to get up again.

But Nora shook her head.

“No need. These are absolutely perfect all on their own.” She shifted her gaze to Iris. “Thank you, dear.”

Iris scooped herself two smaller brownies on a napkin and joined Nora on the couch in the living room.

“You’re welcome.”

…

Around nine o’clock, Barry offered to take his mom home, since she’d arrived in an uber apparently, and Barry had heard stories and was untrustworthy of those. Nora refused twice, but on the third try she gave in.

Iris waved goodbye and then was promptly swept up into another warm hug. Despite the awkwardness from earlier, she truly felt happy to have met this woman, and she hoped to meet with her again in the future, should things continue to go well. And she wanted them to. She really, really did.

“I’m back,” Barry announced, coming through the door about an hour later, looking tired as hell.

Iris was feeling a little tired too and figured the sex and the talk could wait until the next day.

“You look exhausted,” she said, setting her laptop to the side where she sat on the couch and waiting for him to join her.

He slipped off his shoes, dropped his keys on the table, and made his way over to her, plopping soundly beside her on the couch, letting his long legs stretch out before him.

“I forgot to mention it earlier, but that little yellow dress you wore when my mom was here?”

She looked at him expectantly.

“You looked…really, really pretty, Iris.”

Her face warmed and she looked down.

“Thank you, Barry.”

Hesitantly, and very slowly, he gently moved his hand down her bare arm until it reached her hand. He slid his fingers between hers and pressed their palms together.

“Iris…”

“It’s late,” she said, not wanting him to regret anything and knowing how tired he was. “Maybe we should save the talk for tomorrow?”

He turned to face her and brushed the hair out of her face before cupping her cheek with one hand.

“We don’t have to talk.”

Looking first into his eyes and then zeroing in on his lips, Iris fell into his embrace again and moaned into his mouth. After a few moments of passionate kissing, Barry lifted Iris up off the couch and carried her down the hall and into his bedroom.

“And what do we have this time?” she asked, giggling and kicking her feet when he stood up tall and pulled a crinkly wrapper from his pants’ pocket.

“Condoms.”

He grinned and pushed the door closed.

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #i'm not saying you're dating #but i'm also not saying you're not #chapter 2

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santademikey · 2 years

Text

not meant to be - trikey

ft. soft trev because this is set in like 1990.

it was a cold day in ludendorff, even colder than usual considering the old town was never not covered in a thick blanket of snow.

a car zoomed along the frosty, slippery lane. music was blasting from it, along with the booming laughter of a man and his companion.

“and so, i said to the guard, “is that a gun in your pants or are you happy to see me?”” trevor cackled, while michael lifted a hand off the wheel to rid his eyes from tears of laughter.

“ah, it’s good to have ya back, t. a lot’s changed since you’ve been gone.” michael admitted, concentrating on the road ahead of him.

“it’s good to be back.” trevor said, “i never knew how much i missed shovelling snow outta my porch.”

“well, that’ll teach ya - never rob people you fuckin’ know. or they’ll id you, and you’ll be stuck in a cell going outta your goddamn mind.”

“i’ve learnt my lesson. or so my parole officer seems to think.” trevor chuckled, but in the four months that the young man had been imprisoned, he figured that maybe he shouldn’t have tried to rob the guy that helped him secure a loan to buy his truck.

silence fell upon the car, the only sounds being the queen song blaring from the stereo and the tires crunching over ice.

trevor, staring out of the window asked “so what’s changed then?”

“hm?” michael hummed.

“you said a lot’s changed since i got sent down. what?”

michael sighed, flustered. “ah, well. you know. amanda’s moved in with me. it’s uh… it’s going good.”

amanda. michael’s girlfriend. trevor had never liked her, his reasoning being that he thought she used his best friend for the money he had stashed away from various scores. but that wasn’t the only reason for the man’s distain.

“how good?” trevor questioned, scared to know the answer.

the truth was, he was deeply in love with michael. he had been from the moment they met at the airfield two years ago.

he’d never felt like this for anyone before, which scared him. he also felt a lot of shame about his feelings, and so hid them from everyone. including michael.

“he wouldn’t feel the same way. no one has ever loved me back before, so why would he?”

the silence returned. michael turned off the radio and briefly turned to the man he called his bestest friend.

“i’m marrying her, t.”

trevor’s heart sank to his stomach, before shattering like an icicle that had been thrown at the ground. his eyes burned with tears of sadness. anger.

“why? how could he do this? and to her? of all people?”

without thinking trevor grabbed the steering wheel, and yanked it in his direction.

“trevor!! what the fuck are you doing?” michael bellowed, desperately trying to gain control of the car, which was now spinning from the black ice beneath them.

the car eventually slid off the road and into a tree. coughing and wincing, the boys climbed out of the car. they approached each other.

“what the fuck was that, you prick!?” michael yelled, shoving trevor, who lost his footing and almost fell.

tears ran down t’s face. he looked to the ground, before finally gaining the courage to look at the man he secretly loved.

“i-i’m sorry, but-”

“don’t! you tryna kill me so i can’t be with anyone but you? you’ve hated amanda from the minute you set eyes on her! why? is it because you’re jealous of me? or maybe her? tell me, t - are you in love with me?” michael ranted, his face turning scarlet in anger.

michael’s words echoed around trevor’s head. without a word, he went and sat down on the tree they had managed to snap in two from smashing into it.

he hid his face in his hands, and violently shook as he sobbed.

“oh my god.”

calming down almost immediately, michael followed trevor and sat down next to him. he placed his hand on trev’s shoulder.

michael knew exactly how he felt. michael was in love with trevor, but he also loved amanda.

“look, trevor. i… we can’t… i love you.” he said softly, “but i love her too.”

trevor moved his hands away from his face and looked into michael’s eyes. he was always fascinated by how beautiful they were.

“it wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. would it? nothing ever works out for me.” his voice cracked in heartbreak, but still he smirked in sadness, knowing that him and michael were simply not meant to be.

michael looked away from him, tears daring to spill from his eyes.

after psyching himself up to stop crying and look at the man he loved oh so much, michael said “if things were different, maybe. i’m sorry, t.”

michael stood up and went to walk away before feeling himself be tugged back.

“can- can i kiss you? i… i can get over this, i can. but i need to feel your lips on mine before i let you go.”trevor rambled.

michael grabbed his hands and pulled him up. he placed his hand on trevor’s face and kissed him. he moved his hand back down to his side, and walked off, silently breaking his heart.

trevor sat back down on the tree, letting out a quiet, strangled yelp as he weeped.

#i cried writing this because ow #see this could’ve been written a lot better but it hurt me so it’ll do ig #trevor philips #michael de santa #trikey #gta v #grand theft auto #grand theft auto v #gta fanfiction

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fasterthanmydemons · 5 months

Text

[ Speedster of the Galaxy ]

Rocket was watching Pietro. He didn’t know if the speedster noticed, but Rocket was actually studying him. His posture, his words, his body language… Surely, if Pietro was a threat, Mantis would’ve told the Guardians. Her powers were appreciated, but Rocket knew she also tried to see the best in people. She had a lot of… well, empathy. And Rocket just wanted to make sure Pietro was not a threat to the team or the team’s dynamic. The speedster had pointed out his weaknesses, almost stupidly, as he spoke with Mantis. If Pietro tried to pull shit of any kind, Rocket knew where to aim. Was he pissed Pietro scared Mantis away? Eh, no. Yeah. Maybe. A little. He knew the lady bug. Not as well as Drax knew her, but still. A lot of people in the galaxy deserved to be dismissed, pushed away or scared away. Mantis wasn’t one of them. Then again, the stars did not give a fuck about who deserved this or that. Life gave everyone shit. Rocket accepted that a long time ago, and he clicked his tongue as Pietro said Rocket was too short to punch him in the face. “I could climb. Don’t test me.”

He listened as Pietro explained how children’s role could vary depending on cultural elements. “That’s cool, really, it’s important to teach ‘em how to be strong and all that, it’s part of being a parent. It’s good to teach ‘em what being responsible is. But man, blaming them when things go wrong? When shit outside their control happens? You blame yourself even though you did not kill your parents. I don’t think you’re to blame unless you directly caused their deaths, but what do I know.” He forced out a breath at Pietro’s confusion about Groot being part of the team. “He’s always been with us. He helps us when we need someone to sneak into small spaces, for example. When things get dangerous we try to keep him out of the way, but he doesn’t listen. He sees us busy, he takes the Zune, blasts music and dances right into harm’s way. Raising a kid is stressful, we’re all gonna end up frickin’ cuckoo. You’ll end up cuckoo as well.” He pointed at Pietro. “You’ve seen him, right? Tiny, friendly… Well, he has already killed people. He knows how things are. This galaxy is unrelenting.”

He tilted his head as Pietro asked if 'Smurfette’ was because Nebula was blue. “I don’t know anythin’ about Earth cartoons, but if Quill calls her that, I guess it’s a reference. Yeah, she’s blue.” Rocket chuckled at Pietro’s confusion because she was blue and Gamora was not. “I know. You see, Nebula’s adopted. And Gamora is also adopted. I guess 'adopted’ is a… nice word for it. It’s a long story and not a happy one. But yeah, they’re sisters.”

Rocket sipped his drink, shaking his head again when Pietro said maybe he shouldn’t share things with Mantis anymore. “Bug is many things, but not a pretender. If she says you can talk, that’s because she’s willing to listen. She’s just… sensitive when it comes to children, y'know? She was raised by Quill’s dad. Apparently, he found her abandoned as a larva and kept her. Man was a real piece of shit. The guy killed his own children because he considered they failed him, so you can imagine what he did to Mantis, who wasn’t even his.” A part of Rocket wondered why someone as cruel as Ego would randomly adopt a helpless orphan, but… it wasn’t that hard to believe. Mantis had a tendency to trigger protective instincts in others. Not like Rocket would know that. Nope. “The thing is, he was a god, so it wasn’t like she could ask the authorities or somethin’ for help. And he was also a planet, so it wasn’t like she could escape without him knowing. Man, define 'trapped’. She was pretty screwed, she doesn’t need to be told that children this, children that.”

Beckoning to Pietro, Rocket walked into another room, an equally dimly lit bathroom. He turned on the lights, giving a shrug after Pietro asked how he should clear the air. “I mean, that’s a you thing. Me, personally? I would talk to her now, 'cause I get… uh, uncomfortable when she’s sad,” he admitted, shit shit shit, “but that’s because I know her powers work best when her mood is stable,” he quickly added. “There’s somethin’ else I wanna show you though, so…” Approaching the shower, Rocket placed his bottle aside and picked up an open, plastic box he had left in the shower. Inside there was a small turtle covered in mud that Rocket had unsuccessfully tried to wash away.

“So.” Rocket cleared his throat. “Back on your planet, a few hours before we left, I decided to go out and explore a little, and I found a stream. This little guy was stuck on the side of it, dirty as shit, dribbling with mud.” He looked down at the turtle. “Hi, little idiot! So, I picked him up, brought him here and tried to wash him, but he kept biting me. The asshole. I thought you could try instead. He needs a name, too.” He gave Pietro the box. “He could make a decent pet, y'know? Somethin’ to remind you of your planet. A little friend in case you don’t get along with… any of us. If space is too much for him, he can always hide in his shell and only come out to eat. If anyone asks, you found him on the side of the stream, ya hear me?” Rocket crossed his arms again. “If you wanna talk to her now, I’ll watch over him. She’s probably still awake. If not, you should clean him up. I’m sure he’ll look much better once he’s not covered in mud.”

(*epic music* THE ORIGIN OF THE TURTLE KING HIMSELF. And omg no, seriously you have nothing to worry about. Her misunderstanding with Pietro is tame compared to her entire backstory XD You write whatever reaction feels more in character to you, as I said I like it when there are misunderstandings between characters, especially someone who is always on good terms with everyone like Mantis. Plus Rocket being a lil protective of his team is always a treat for my brain.)

__________

{ AHHHHHHHHH!! YOU MADE AN MCU-BASED ORIGIN STORY FOR MR. DIBBLES! YASSSSSSSS!!! *squeaks with delight* And aww, I know, I just feel bad that it seemed to upset a lot of my followers heh. I’ve never gotten so many messages at once after a reply before hahaha. People randomly being like “hey can u not hate on mantis she’s so pure” and I’m like… glaring at Pietro… like see what you did? XD You write Mantis and Rocket so well, it makes Pietro seem a bit flat tbh, and I need to step up my game haha, but other than that, he owns whatever comes out of his mouth. XD }

Pietro did feel scrutinized by Rocket and the others since his arrival, but it didn’t rise to the level of conscious thought. It was more like an uncomfortable feeling of being judged that he process more emotionally than cerebrally, leaving him jittery and anxious. Since he’d felt anxious ever since the whole Raft incident, he chalked up how he was feeling now to recent stress, being displaced, and being separated from Wanda. “Okay. I won’t,” Pietro said rather humorlessly when Rocket said he could climb. He felt like a chastised child, and that ticked him off, but he also didn’t want any more drama today, so he was trying to stay on Rocket’s good side. Or at least, not tip over to bad.

“I did not kill them, but also I did not do anything to help them either,” Pietro said, sighing in frustration. No, no, stop sharing things! This is how you got into trouble with Mantis! “Sorry, nevermind. We can change subject whenever,” he said not-so-subtly. He couldn’t help but smirk, though, at the mention of Groot not listening. “Yeah, kids never listen. It can be good thing, if it is because of independent thought. Critical thinking skills. But sometimes I guess is just to be a little shit, as all kids do,” he said with a chuckle. “Okay, well, I will try to look out specially for him. Not… you know, obviously. He’d hate that, I’m guessing. But just watch to make sure he is not getting himself into trouble by not paying attention or something.” His hands found his hips as he remembered the first time he met little Groot. Or rather, the first time Groot noticed him. “He is cute, though, isn’t he? He called me an ‘old guy’ at first. Probably because my hair is white?” He fluffed said white hair a bit.

“Yeah, smurfs are blue. Smurfette was like… the only girl smurf on the whole show for the longest time, and it was really weird. Like… all the boy smurfs would fawn over her and I always wondered if that was stressful for her or not, like why is there only one? But then later they added a younger one, like a teenage smurf, and a grandma smurf. It was still kindof weird, though. But yeah, smurfs are all blue except for their hats and shoes and whatever clothes they decide to wear.” Anytime he can educate someone on quality cartoons, Pietro was so there.

As Rocket explained that both Nebula and Gamora were adopted, Pietro nodded. “Ah, okay. Makes better sense now. Hey, adopted family is still family. In my culture we call it ‘clan.’ Anyone you consider family, whether they’re blood, adopted, or just ride and die friends, they’re your clan. They’re the people you’d go to the ends of the world for when they didn’t even ask.” He hadn’t realized that he’d said “ride and die” instead of “ride or die.” Sometimes things in English eluded him. It happened when he understood the overall meaning of a phrase or saying, but wasn’t thinking about the literal translation of the individual English words.

He sighed as the conversation turned back to Mantis. It made him feel terrible and he just didn’t want to deal with it at all, but he didn’t want to blow Rocket off either. “She may be willing to listen, but I am not willing to share anymore. Because it hurt her, why would I do it again? I don’t like hurting people, most of my life has been about helping people to not feel that way. I’ll just… make sure I don’t look like I need to talk around her. You said she can tell anyway, but I’ll do my best. I just have to be fine enough so she won’t think I need to talk. I can do that.”

“Wait, a god and a planet? A planet?” Pietro’s face contorted in bewilderment. “How does a planet... you know? Like... how was Mantis even... created? How does a planet have sex? I... have a lot of questions, but you know what, is okay, I will just let that be where it is.” He wasn’t sure he wanted an explanation for any of that. Rocket wanted him to talk to her now, and Pietro understood why. Everybody on the ship would be put in a bad mood by Mantis being sad. He understood that fully, given how cute and sweet she was. “Okay. I will talk to her now, then,” he said, moving to do just that, to get it over with, so he could calm down and stop being so anxious.

But then Rocket said there was something else he wanted to show him, and Pietro quite literally stopped in his tracks. “What?” he asked with some curiosity, ready for it to maybe be a prank or even something negative. Maybe he deserved some of that right about now. Instead… he was met with… a turtle? A turtle. A turtle!! “Oh, hey!” Pietro exclaimed, his whole face lighting up like a little boy’s. “Sure thing. I won’t rat you out,” he said with a smirk before taking the turtle, not caring at all how messy he was.

And just like that… Pietro changed. His jittery, constant-movement, high-energy style of anxiety was switched off. His scatterbrained, lack-of-focus, “oh look a nut” mindset suddenly came into crystal clear focus. He calmly held the mud-caked turtle in his arms, smiling down at it and peering in to try and see its face. “Turtles get scared sometimes. All animals do. You just have to be calm, and then they will.” He looked at Rocket. “They can sense if you are angry or afraid or even just energetic. It feels different to them than being calm and happy, and they’ll feed off of that. So you just have to… speak softly… and be calm… and they’ll learn that is okay, you are not going to hurt them.”

Looking back at the turtle, he hummed in thought. “Hmm… so you got yourself into a sticky situation, huh? Dribbling with mud? Yeah, that can be fun sometimes. Messy, though.” His voice was gentle and almost soothing. The turtle’s head came a bit closer to the edge of the shell, but it didn’t pop out just yet. “Dribbles? Nah, too negative, right? Makes you sound like a messy boy, yeah? We can work with it though. How about Dibbles? Mr. Dibbles, for you are proper turtle with culture. I like that. Do you?” The turtle slowly pushed his head out from his shell, his eyes blinking once, the nictating membrane slowly sliding back to reveal his bright eyes. “Hello, Mr. Dibbles…” Pietro whispered. Since he’d stuck his head out and nothing bad happened, Mr. Dibbles promptly began to kick his wrinkly turtle leggies, trying to find solid ground to stand on. “Is okay, here,” Pietro said, putting his arm under the turtle and giving him something to place his feet on. This seemed to calm Mr. Dibbles down.

“Thank you, Rocket. I will take good care of him,” Pietro said with a smile. “I’ll go talk to Mantis now, and then Mr. Dibbles will get a nice bath.” When Rocket offered to take the turtle, Pietro shook his head. “Nah, is okay, he might help. You know… ‘sorry I was kindof a jerk to you, but hey look at this cute turtle.’ Is um… what is called… an ice breaker, yeah? She might not forgive me, but she can enjoy cute turtle instead if she doesn’t, heh.”

#pietro rp #{ speedster of the galaxy }#{also... not me popping in my headcanon that for some reason Pietro can understand Groot}#{i don't know why or where i got that headcanon but i like it heh}

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suyunsgf · 3 years

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My mom is trying to demand that dad go back to bed and getting mad because he did listen to her

#girl what you’re not HIS dad #he’s a grown ass man you can’t just order him around like that #what???#for context it’s 8 am and mom is doing cleaning or smth and it’s making a bunch of noise and she thinks she woke dad up and he went to bed a #at like 4 am so she’s insisting he get more sleep #but also he said he doesn’t want to do like mayhaps leave it alone??#also she is like BLASTING her music so maybe uh don’t do that if you’re worried about waking people up #anyways *i* was sleeping and SHE woke ME up

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kai-writes-fan-fiction · 3 years

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In Hiding

Heyo friendos! It's me, Cay. This reader insert wasn't a request; it was more or less indulgent. I'm still taking requests, though, so please send them in! I'm thinking about making this a series; please leave a note if you're interested in seeing more! This was also written in the 2nd person. One last tidbit: I’d recommend listening to the songs mentioned in the story for effect, your choice tho!

Word count: 1029

Main pairings: Avengers x enhanced!fem!reader, and later on may change.

Synopsis: Reader is a shapeshifter, capable of almost anything. They've been running from Hydra, The Avengers, and the Government. What happens when the Avengers find the reader?

Warnings: Like 1 swear word, angst, fluff and more cursing in next chapters, really un-graphic violence

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You had been hiding from everyone: the Avengers, HYDRA, and the Government. You were one of the last enhanced persons that hadn't been killed, captured, or recruited by the Avengers.

You were hiding out in a small flat in New York City. In it, you had the bare minimum, a couch, a laptop, a hot plate, and clothes for a week. Thanks to your powers, you didn't need much more. Being a shapeshifter, you could do almost anything, turn into anyone.

Lately, you'd been using your powers to shift into avengers and use their powers to your benefit.

See, the way that you worked was that when you shifted into a person, object, or animal, you gained their strength, appearance, and abilities. This came in handy when you needed to get food, you'd turn into a cute puppy and beg people, or you'd steal using Wanda's telekinesis.

Your hair and eyes were naturally bright blue, a result of your powers. When you shifted into anything with hair or eyes, it was also blue. When you shifted into an object, its surface was blue.

After a month or so of hiding in New York, you decided it was time to step up your game. You began planning bank heists and hacking into government files to completely remove yourself from the system. You were one of the greatest minds and most powerful beings the world would ever know, but no one knew of you.

After your first successful bank heist, you’d been noticed by the police. Watching the security footage from your theft, they became confused. Who was this teenaged girl already pulling bank robberies? Dumbfounded, the authorities decided they needed help from higher up. Dealing with enhanced individuals was tricky, and the most experienced would be the Avengers. The police sent the security footage, and now you were a wanted woman.

———————–——–

It had been three weeks, and you had a steady income. You'd been doing low-profile jobs for gangs, running drugs, and still robbing banks. Life was good. You were never hungry, you had clothes on your back, and the gangs you did jobs offered protection.

Back at your apartment after a particularly lengthy job, you decided to turn on music and take a nap.

Walking in and collapsing on your couch, you shifted into a cat to become more comfortable. Little did you know, someone had snuck into your apartment and was hiding behind your sofa.

The intruder jumped up in an attempt to grab you, but your keen feline senses alerted you. You jumped up, quickly shifting to your human form.

Tackling him, you took notice of his appearance. The intruder was… Spiderman? What was a hero doing breaking into your house?

“Hey!” He yelled, struggling under your knee, trapping him to the ground.

Eyes glowing blue and growling, you shifted into a blue wolf. Your appearance frightened the Spiderman, and he whimpered.

“Please don’t rip my head off!” He begged.

Your face contorted, and you sighed. Releasing the boy from your grip, you pushed him away. After standing and staring for a few seconds, you shifted into your human form and waved your hand, telling him to leave. He took the clue and ran out of your apartment and onto the fire escape. You watched him swing away.

You needed to leave. Now. The Avengers knew of you and your antics, or they wouldn't have sent anyone to try and capture you.

Quickly as you could, you packed up anything you could carry, but you were tired, and as a consequence, you were slow.

After ten minutes, you heard talking from outside.

“Here, kid?” Whispered a man.

“Yeah, here. She's a shapeshifter! Isn’t that cool, Mr. Stark?” Whispered an over-excited boy.

You recognized his voice quickly; it was Spiderman. And Mr. Stark? Like Tony Stark? The iron man was after you too!

“Pipe down underoos! They probably heard us!” Whisper-yelled Tony.

“S-s-sorry, Mr. Stark.” The boy stuttered.

“What's the plan?” A gravelly voice asked.

“Well, we don't want to kill her, and she's supposedly powerful, so I'm thinking sedation?” Another voice announces.

Sedation? They didn't have a plan. Sighing, you shifted into a blue iron man suit in hopes of confusing them. You sat on your sofa and waited patiently for them to enter. You motioned to your self-built speaker, which was motion activated. It began blasting bass boosted Frank Ocean.

Conversation on your fire escape went silent.

“They know we’re here. Shit.” Said a feminine voice.

“What now?” Asked Spiderman.

“We attack.” Said another voice before seven Avengers swiftly entered your apartment.

You grinned. This was going to be easy. They had sent Spiderman, Iron man, Captain America, Black Widow, The Winter Soldier, Vision, and, for some reason, Loki.

They all cocked their heads upon seeing the iron man suit on the couch.

“Uh- Tony? This yours?” Asked Captain America.

“Nope,” Tony says, confused.

You stand up, turn to the Avengers, and motion to your speaker to start playing your “fight playlist” because you knew someone would come for you eventually. “Wow.” by Post Malone, bass boosted, began blasting.

Grinning, you created clones of yourself, shifting them into the heroes standing in front of you. You stepped back, letting your clones have their fun.

——————————

After about 10 minutes of fighting, “Let Go” by Ark Patrol began playing. The trance-like feeling of the song drew you away from the fight. Your dustracted state gave Loki to create a clone of himself. Sneaking up behind you, he grabbed your neck and around your waist. His sudden movement and grip on your body paralyzed you, and your clones evaporated. The rest of the Avengers ran over to you and Loki. He must've been using magic, as you could no longer shift.

“Stop squirming.” He growled into your ear.

In return, you bit him. His clutch, however, was unwavering.

“I said to stop moving.” He hissed, his grip tightening.

He was choking you, and you were beginning to see stars. You lost and you'd been captured. The last thing saw before the world went black was the Avengers staring at you in awe and confusion.

Should I write a part 2? Maybe even make it into a longer series?

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ddaengtae · 4 years

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see you around || jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college, strangers (idiots) to lovers, fitness instructor! jungkook, fluff, smut

word count: 13.9k

summary: you know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar and obsess over with your friends, but know there’s about a one percent chance they’ll ever talk to you or even know who you are? that’s precisely what jeon jungkook was to you; a piece of delicious eye candy that you could daydream about all you wanted, but had to accept that it was too unrealistic to ever happen. or so you thought. after an embarrassing accident at the gym that makes your worlds collide, maybe you had been wrong about your chances all along.

a/n: when i came up with this idea in my head, i guessed it would be around 5k words. guess my hands slipped. this is only my second bts fic, but after getting good feedback for my first one, i decided to give it another try and this is what happened. i tried to edit closely, but there may be a few types so i’m sorry! thanks for reading & pls lmk what you think. :)

Another week, another million reasons to be stressed. It really seemed like that was the never-ending pattern of the college lifestyle. The weekend was never long enough to truly allow yourself to unwind. Sure, those two days were great, but how was two days enough to destress from the agony of multiple all-nighters to keep up with the shitload of work that all of your professors always deemed it acceptable to assign? There was no way for you to prove it, but you believed in a conspiracy theory that all of the professors would meet up at the beginning of each semester and choose to make all of their huge assignments due on the same days just to fuck all of their students over. There could be no other explanation for the hell that was midterms season.

While during your first two years of college you would barely be hanging on by a thread during the busiest weeks of the semester, you were now a junior and had at last adopted a regime that helped you burn off some steam when the tension became all too much. Somewhere along the way, you started to realize that inhaling mozzarella sticks and Red Bull at two in the morning the night before an exam did very little to make you feel better and that it would probably be a better idea to take up a healthy lifestyle and better time management skills sooner rather than later. In the process of getting your life together, one Tuesday evening in the spring of your sophomore year, one of your roommates had convinced you to accompany her to a group fitness class at the gym on campus. To your surprise, you fell in love with it and the feeling of adrenaline and accomplishment that came along with making it through the hour. From that day on, you vowed to yourself to make it to the gym most days of the week.

There was something about group fitness classes that made you feel much more comfortable than going to the gym and working out on your own. Perhaps most glaringly, the classes were dominated with like-minded girls who just wanted some peace of mind for an hour. Most of the instructors were girls too, except for a few guys who seemed to understand why a lot of women chose to avoid the rest of the gym. It was quite unsettling to work out by yourself on the main floor and be surrounded by conceited guys who always seemed to either be undressing you with their eyes or judging you because, god forbid, you couldn’t squat three-hundred pounds like they could. The whole place just always reeked of toxic masculinity, or so that was what you had thought until you found out about the group fitness classes that the facility also held. They seemed to be a sort of heavenly escape from the rest of the place that resembled a fraternity initiation ceremony.

That was precisely where you found yourself this Monday evening. In dire need of a break from studying, you found yourself sitting on the floor of the group classroom surrounded by your equipment and waiting for your favorite instructor to arrive. The concept of a high-intensity circuit training class had initially terrified you when you first decided to try it out last semester, but it had quickly become your favorite class and one that you attended every week without fail. It was incredibly satisfying to track your progress and watch your body evolve as you adapted to be able to lift heavier weights and make it through the cardio outbreaks without feeling like you were going to drop dead every second.

Taking a long sip of your water, your eyes remained down on your phone as you heard the door of the room open and close again. As it was still ten minutes before class, you didn’t think much of it and assumed it was probably just more people piling into the room and rushing to get their equipment ready.

“Uh, hi guys! The usual instructor for the class is unfortunately sick so I’m filling in for her tonight,” an unfamiliar-- but yet also eerily recognizable-- male voice echoed through the room. “I was just recently certified so this is actually the first class I’ll be teaching here. I promise I’ll try to live up to her hype.” The unknown source let out an awkward laugh, which was met with relative silence from the rest of the room.

The moment your eyes moved up to fall upon the new instructor, your breath hitched in your throat, causing the water you had been attempting to drink to flow down the wrong pipe. This wasn’t just any unmemorable college boy filling in to instruct the class. There at the front of the room stood none other than Jeon Jungkook. The breathtaking Jeon Jungkook was going to be leading the class and you were supposed to be able perform-- let alone breathe-- properly? Oh no.

You and Jungkook were not friends by any means. Hell, it was highly likely that the boy didn’t even know who you were. You know those beautiful strangers that you admire from afar, yet know there’s about a one percent chance that they will ever know who you are or ever speak to you? The ones you tell all of your friends about and you go out of your way to use your FBI-level stalking skills to find their social media in hopes of finding out more about them so you can daydream about your nonexistent, fantasy future together? The ones you’re always hoping you’ll cross paths with while walking to class because even a glance of them will make your day a little more exciting and give you something to talk about with your friends? That was what Jungkook was to you.

Jungkook had become known as ‘hot coffee shop boy’ amongst your friend group after you had noticed him studying in the same coffee shop as you one day in the fall of your sophomore year. As you always chose to study at the least favorite and therefore least populated coffee shop on campus, it was shocking the first time someone as beautiful as Jungkook sat down at one of the tables across from yours and settled in to do his homework as well. His presence offered you a paradox; while seeing him looking like a model wearing his oversized clothes and sighing at his laptop screen was certainly a distraction at times, it also served as a form of motivation to force you to focus because you didn’t want him thinking you were slacking off. He seemed to enjoy the quiet ambience of the specific shop because after that first day, he began to frequent it almost as often as you, always sitting at the same table by the third window. On some occasions, one of his friends who always seemed to be changing hair colors would accompany him. After some research completed by your enamored friend Jennie who sometimes accompanied you, she discovered his name was Park Jimin. He quickly became known as ‘iced chai’ after that seemed to be his regular coffee order.

It was an exciting day amongst your friends on the first day of classes in the spring of your sophomore year when Jungkook happened to enroll in the same Earth Science lecture as you to satisfy the science gen-ed requirement at your university. Rocks and rivers weren’t exactly interesting, but the back of Jungkook’s head from the row in front of you certainly was. The group chat really blew up the day he spun around in his chair and asked you if he could borrow a pen. They were right that it would’ve been easier for him to just ask one of the people next to him, but you were smart enough to not think into it too much. Maybe you just seemed like the type of person to carry around an abundance of stationery materials (you weren’t, and you ended up not taking any notes that day after giving him the only pen you had).

So here you were, practically choking on your water as Jungkook started to set up his own equipment at the front of the room. How dare he invade your safe space? You suddenly felt as if you barely remembered how to do a jumping jack, let alone have the facilities to pick up a weight.

After organizing his weights at the front of the room, Jungkook’s eyes began to scan the participants in the room, likely counting how many people had shown up. The moment his eyes met yours, your whole body froze in place. Oddly enough, his seemed to do the same. His doe eyes became wide and his mouth fell into an ‘o’ as he looked at you for a few seconds too long, and you swore there was an expression of recognition on his face. Before you could convince yourself that anything of the sort had truly happened, Jungkook was blinking rapidly and shaking his head at himself before his eyes darted away to scan and count the rest of the room.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to get started in a minute here,” Jungkook announced a minute later, looking down at his phone as he connected his music and began blasting it through the speakers. “Just remember to follow my lead and please don’t hesitate to wave me over if you have any questions or are struggling with form. I’ll try to keep an eye on all of you and come over to help you out anyway.” His eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he offered the class a big bunny smile. Oh god, you were going to pass out. “We’re going to be starting with a pretty intense cardio circuit here to bring those heart rates right up and set the tone for the rest of class.” Great. Your heart rate was already accelerating through the roof just at the sight of him. “Try to keep up, but if you need to grab some water or take a break at any point, please don’t hesitate to do so. We’re going to get started in 3… 2… 1… Go!”

To your surprise, you were able to make it through the first couple of circuits without too much trouble. You made it your mission to zone in on each of the exercises you were doing, and that every time you were forced to face forward you would fixate your gaze on the back of the girl in front of you. It was shockingly easy to forget about the beautiful man in front of the room while you were gasping for breath after numerous rounds of burpees and mountain climbers. The goal was to look calm and fit without calling attention to yourself. Outside of your heavy breathing that was likely being drowned out by Jungkook’s loud music, you could say you were succeeding.

About twenty minutes into the class, Jungkook signaled a transition into an upper body circuit. While you were delighted to get a break from cardio and to allow your heart rate to calm down for a bit, following the exercises now required you to face forward and watch for his cues. This would be fine as long as you didn’t focus on his gorgeous face that was currently glistening with sweat in the most pleasing way possible, right?

“Alright, we’re going to start off here with some overhead shoulder presses for the first minute. I’d recommend something on the lighter side, but make sure you’re challenging yourself.” With a slight nod of his head, Jungkook picked up his own weights and counted down the class to begin the first exercise of the circuit.

Shoulder presses weren’t bad. You could do this. Inhaling a deep breath, you made an attempt to wipe your sweaty palms off on your leggings before picking up your dumbbells and getting in position to begin your shoulder presses. After the first few reps, you quickly fell into a rhythm that was both comfortable yet challenging, feeling that delicious burn in your shoulder muscles. At the halfway mark through the minute, your eyes had remained glued to the same girl in front of you. You finally felt a sense of peace. One look at Jungkook couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong.

Against your better judgement, you decided to shift your eyes to the front of the room and take a good luck at a combination of both Jungkook’s back and the reflection of the front of his body through the mirror before him.

The string of events that occurred immediately after that moment was a blur. As Jungkook pressed his set of dumbbells above his head, his baggy shirt slid up his body, exposing his sweaty, toned abs that looked as though they were sculpted by the gods themselves. What was likely an audible gasp escaped from your lips as your eyes remained frozen on the sight in front of you. It was unclear if it was your mesmerized state, your sweaty hands, or a combination of both, but seconds later, the dumbbell in your right hand slipped out of your grasp and quickly went crashing downward.

“Oh my... Fuck!”

There was a moment of dissociation before you realized that the loud cry had, in fact, come out of your mouth, and that the dumbbell that had glided out of your hand had, in fact, come crashing down onto the big toe of your right foot. Your head was spinning as you began to process the throbbing feeling radiating throughout your entire foot, as well as the weight of what had just occurred. Within moments, the eyes of all of the participants were on you, as well as the eyes of the one person whose attention you really did not want in such an embarrassing moment. No, no, no.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook’s panicked voice echoed throughout the room as he spoke into his headset and he quickly dropped his weights on the ground. “Um, okay, the rest of you can keep going! I’m going to get someone else to come in within a few minutes so I can help her.” Within moments, he was shoving his way through the room until he was right in front of you and pulling the microphone away from his mouth so the rest of the class wouldn’t hear your interaction. “Are you alright? Oh my god, you shouldn’t be putting pressure on it. Let’s get you out of here and get some ice.”

You genuinely thought you were going to pass out. It had little to do with your toe, and a whole lot to do with Jungkook’s sudden closeness. His concerned face was just inches away from yours as his eyes scanned yours for any sort of explanation for what had just unfolded. His presence was intoxicating. You could smell the combination of his cologne and sweat, and you had yet to tear the image of his gleaming six-pack out of your mind. Oh my god. That had really just happened. The first impression you made on Jungkook, AKA hot coffee shop boy, was you making an absolute fool out of yourself and possibly breaking your toe while doing a simple exercise. You were never going to live this one down. You were going to throw up.

When you hadn’t responded to Jungkook within a few seconds, he took it upon himself to drape an arm over your shoulders and pull your body against his side. “Here, lean against me so you’re not putting weight on it. I’m going to bring you to the first-aid room and get you some ice… At the very least.”

It was quite possible that your brain had chosen it was better to black out the memory as Jungkook began to pull you out of the room, yelling to one of the workers at the front desk to quickly find someone else to take over the class. Your legs felt like jelly as they moved beside his, only functioning out of muscle memory rather than true volition. Here you were, body pressed against that of the guy you had admired from afar for over a year. In any other circumstance, this would have been like a dream come true. Instead, you wished the ground would swallow you up and put you out of your misery.

It wasn’t long until you were pulled into what was likely the first-aid room and instructed to sit on top of the counter by a very stressed Jungkook. The more you thought about it, the more horrible you felt. Not only was this the Jeon Jungkook of your fantasies, but it was also the Jeon Jungkook who had informed the class before it had started that this was the first class he had ever led. You had quite literally ruined his first class, and had set an appalling example of what he would expect going forward. If your toe hadn’t been throbbing, you would have seriously considered running right out the door.

“Okay, if you don’t mind, just take off your shoe and sock while I try to find an ice pack,” Jungkook commanded as he nervously raked a hand through his already-messy hair, frantically rifling through the cabinets. Your eyes watched his back as you followed his instructions, guilt filling your entire body. He seemed stressed. Nervous, even. It made sense, if you thought about it. Your foolish accident had just become his responsibility, and he was a new employee. You would be nervous too.

“Found one,” he breathed out, hitting it against the counter a couple of times to activate the coldness. As he turned around to face you, his eyes wandered down to your exposed toe. “Oh no, that looks pretty swollen. Does it hurt really badly? Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t feel great, but I’m okay.” No, no you were not okay, but you needed this to be over. Meeting his eyes, you realized those were the first words you had spoken to him since this whole debacle had unraveled. He probably thought you were crazy. Taking the ice pack from him, you chewed on your lower lip. “I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow as he looked up from your foot to meet your gaze, tilting his head to the side. “Huh? You have no reason to be sorry. Accidents happen. I get it… I’m pretty clumsy too sometimes and have hurt myself much worse than this for much stupider reasons. Really, don’t worry.” He was rambling, and if you hadn’t been so distraught, you would have perhaps realized just how nervous he really seemed. Offering you a shy smile, his eyes averted away from yours as his cheeks flushed a shade of bright red. Redder than they should have been from just working out.

Looking down at your foot, you placed the ice pack on top of it and shook your head. It was difficult to form words with him so close, but you knew you had to if you wanted to redeem yourself at all. You already had created a mental plan to avoid him at all costs and hide from him whenever that wasn’t possible, but this was the least you could do. “No, I’m really sorry. You said at the beginning that this was your first class and I… I kind of ruined it for you. I’m sure you were really excited about it.”

Jungkook remained occupied with your toe as he moved the ice pack to the side, feeling around the bones and moving it gently in various directions to see how bad the pain was. “I don’t think it’s broken. Definitely pretty swollen, but not broken. However, I’m clearly not a doctor so you might want to get a second opinion.” Standing up straight, he offered you a warm smile. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. There’s always going to be more classes for me to teach and I wasn’t just going to let you suffer there. I’m happy to help.”

God, not only was he gorgeous, but he was also this friendly? It was possible that he was just being nice to keep you calm and keep his job, but regardless, he just seemed so perfect. So perfect that you feared being so close to him, for your endless flaws felt as if though they were being magnified. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to return the smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” You needed to escape. You needed to get out of there so you could cry to your friends about just how mortified you were and how you now really never stood a chance with hot coffee shop boy. “I should probably get going. Don’t want to hold you up any longer.”

“You’re not holding me up at all, I promise,” Jungkook responded a bit too quickly, but yet again, you were too focused on your own embarrassment to notice. Crossing his arms over his chest, the tall man tilted his head to the side. “How are you going to get back to your dorm? Do you have a ride? You definitely shouldn’t be walking on your toe.”

Fuck. He had a good point. Regardless of the pain flowing through your foot, you were willing to walk on it just to escape this situation. However, you knew you couldn’t tell him that. “I, uh, one of my roommates has a car and I was going to call her to pick me up.”

“I have my car here. I could drive you.”

Wait, what? Had he really just offered you a ride? If you had met his gaze, you would’ve seen that he looked just as surprised that such an offer had slipped out of his lips so casually. Instead, you stared down at your lap as you attempted to process his suggestion. If the situation had been even slightly less humiliating, a car ride with the Jeon Jungkook would have sounded like one of your fantasies come to life. However, at the current moment all you could imagine was the intense awkward silence that would likely fill the car as you contemplated how to successfully fling yourself out of the window. That would not do right now. You were not in the right headspace to muster up any coherent form of small talk. The offer was likely just extended out of pity anyway. He was a good guy and deemed that that would be the righteous thing to do. No need to burden him and actually make him follow through with it.

“No, no. I wouldn’t make you do that. I’m going to text my friend right now,” you assured him, weakly smiling as you moved the ice pack to the side to retrieve your removed sock and shoe. “You have a workout to finish anyway.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Jungkook insisted, watching intently as you carefully put your sneaker back on and tied it up at lightning speed. When he realized you had no plans of speaking again, a defeated sigh pressed through his lips. Why was he so set on helping you? “Okay, okay. As long as your friend is coming soon, that’ll work. I can walk you to the lobby though.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to let you just run out of the room alone, you forced yourself to nod your head in agreement. You were being dramatic. You could handle one more minute in his presence before you imploded. “Sure, thanks.” The response came off a bit snappier than you had intended, but did that really matter at this point? You weren’t going to be able to show your face around him ever again to begin with.

Once you pushed yourself off of the counter, Jungkook encouraged you to lean most of your weight against him as he led you out the door. As you were already on the first floor of the facility, the walk to the lobby luckily didn’t take too long. Upon arrival, you plopped down in one of the plush chairs by the door, fishing your phone out of the pocket of your hoodie and pretending to draft a text. In all honesty, the moment Jungkook disappeared, you intended to wobble your way back to your dorm by twisting your foot to the side to avoid putting pressure on the big toe. You were well aware that you were going to look ridiculous, but nothing could be more mortifying than what you had already experienced.

Jungkook stood over your chair, rubbing the back of his neck as he rocked from side to side on his feet. Something about him just exuded nervous energy, and it was making you feel even more on edge. “You’re sure your friend is able to come soon, right?”

Nodding your head in response, you lifted your hand into a thumbs-up that you regretted the second your hand formed it. God, you might as well have hit him with some finger guns. Could you be any cringier? “Yes, don’t worry. She’s on her way. Really, thank you though.”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts, Jungkook’s eyes scanned your face one last time. It was almost as if he was searching for any hint of a lie, but if he had been, he wasn’t able to find it. “Okay, okay… If you insist. I’m sorry this had to happen to you. I hope it heals quickly.” His lips stretched into that signature bunny smile you had witnessed so many times while seeing him with his friends in public, but it almost looked a little more… Bashful. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

No, no he would not. You weren’t even sure that he had recognized you from being at the same coffee shop so often, but regardless, you had already planned to avoid the location at all costs. You couldn’t stand the thought of him possibly approaching you out of pity to check and see if you were okay.

Instead of expressing any of these concerns, you twisted your lips into a small smile and nodded your head at him. “Mhmm. See you around.”

After lifting his hand in a wave, Jungkook smiled at you once more before turning on his heel and slowly starting to make his way back toward the main area of the gym. You watched as he began to disappear, as you planned on rushing out the door the moment he was out of sight. Right before he rounded the corner, his body twisted to face you once more. If you hadn’t been so fixated on your own embarrassment, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red before he nervously laughed to himself and rounded the corner quickly so he was out of your line of vision.

The moment he disappeared, you gathered your belongings and rose to your feet a bit too quickly, immediately noticing how you forgot to avoid putting pressure on your toe. Fighting through the pain and fighting to maintain any sense of pride you had left, you began your walk-- or rather, wobble-- home.

God, you needed some wine.

The rest of the week passed by without much trouble, but maybe that was due to your advanced avoiding skills. Due to having three midterms throughout the week, most of your time was spent holed up alone studying. While you usually would do most of your studying in your favorite quiet coffee shop, you made it a point to steer clear of it at all costs. You were well aware that Jungkook also spent a lot of his time in that specific location, and you weren’t ready to show your face to him if it could be prevented. He had been right; your toe wasn’t broken, but instead just badly bruised. While your toe may have been fine, your ego certainly wasn’t. After stumbling home after the incident on that Monday evening, your roommates had a laughing fest at your expense over a few too many bottles of wine. They attempted to convince you that what had happened really wasn’t that embarrassing, that Jungkook seemed to be really sweet about it, and that such a chaotic event would be ‘the most epic story to tell people about the start of your relationship at your wedding.’ Although you indulged in their pipe dreams for the time being, you were going to stick to your plan: avoid Jungkook at all times possible until enough time had passed that he likely forgot about your humiliating catastrophe.

After a week of cramming for exams and perfecting your evading abilities, you were beyond ready to take a night to unwind and destress. That was precisely why you found yourself out at one of popular college bars by your campus with your friend Jennie on Friday night. The pair of you weren’t exactly the type to go out and let loose very often as you tried your best to prioritize your studies, but once you allowed yourself to get dressed up and had a few vodka-crans running through your veins, you understood why a lot of college students went out so often and remembered why you used to so much during your freshman year. The sensation of being tipsy and laughing with your friends was truly therapeutic and a much-needed antidote to counteract the toxic environment of never-ending stress.

Having been at the bar for over an hour, it started to get quite crowded. As you twirled your straw around in your half-empty drink, you watched as Jennie began to look around at all of the new faces in the bar before freezing and pursing her lips. “Okay, not to make you freak out or anything… But hot coffee shop boy AKA sexy fitness instructor boy AKA Jeon Jungkook is here,” she whisper-yelled at you as she leaned toward your ear. “He seems drunk… Like really drunk.”

Blinking rapidly as you tried to process this new information, you pulled back from her and began to shake your head. This certainly was not what you needed to hear right now, but the alcohol in your system calmed you down at least a little bit so you didn’t immediately book it out of the place. “So what you’re telling me is that I need to hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night?” Despite your fears, you really wanted to get a glance of him. Although the bar was quite large, you told yourself it would be too risky. If experience had taught you anything, it was that even one glance at him could be fatal for you.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jennie scoffed, shoving your shoulder before taking a long sip of her drink. Her gaze remained set on the area of the crowded bar that you refused to look toward. “He’s…” She paused for a moment before her eyes widened. “Okay, I might be a little drunk, but I’m almost positive he keeps looking over here.”

“Maybe because you’re staring at him and drawing attention to us,” you scolded, narrowing your eyes at her. “Please stop before I jump over the actual bar and hide behind it.”

Jennie laughed at your dramatic suggestion, eyeing your nervous persona up and down. “Relax, relax.” She looked over your shoulder yet again. “Oh, wait. He’s on the move now so I don’t think you have to worry.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you took an extra long sip of your drink. “Thank god. I don’t need to relive my earlier trauma on a night out.”

“Wait, fuck. I think--”

“Ah, is that toe girl?!”

Your whole body froze as you heard the close proximity of a very familiar male voice behind you. You wanted to believe that your initial guess of what was occurring wasn’t true, but the mixture of shock and amusement on Jennie’s face as she looked over your shoulder at the sight behind you confirmed that your worst nightmare was, in fact, true.

Sucking in a deep breath and downing the rest of your drink before placing it down on the bar, you gave yourself a mental pep talk before slowly turning on your heel to face the source of the voice. If there hadn’t been a decent amount of alcohol in your system, you were quite certain that you would’ve passed out right then and there.

There before you stood Jungkook with a cheeky grin spread across his lips and arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at, unfortunately, you. He was sporting a pair of tight, ripped black jeans and a matching black t-shirt. The clasping of a beer bottle in one hand and the way his arms were folded made his bicep muscles protrude in a manner that had you ready to start drooling. Jennie had been right; his face was glowing a bright shade of red, likely due to a great deal of alcohol consumption.

Clearing your throat, you forced your lips into a shy smile as you folded your hands together in front of you. You wished you hadn’t finished your drink so you had something more natural to do with your hands. It felt as if though your heart was going to explode through your chest, but he was here now and there was no escaping. “God, is that really what I’m known as now?”

“I mean, kind of.” Jungkook let out a loud laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. How was he so fucking gorgeous? And why the fuck was this beautiful man going out of his way to talk to you on a night out? “But I won’t call you that anymore. It’s Y/N, right?”

Your brow furrowed as your mouth opened in surprise. Wait, what? Jungkook knew your name? It felt like your mind was moving at a million miles a minute trying to process just how that could be possible.

A hand reached out from behind you to squeeze your shoulder, Jennie stepping forward and revealing herself after you had forgotten about her existence for a minute. Her lips were twisted upward into a mischievous smile. “I see a couple of my friends from one of my classes. Gonna go say hi to them. I’ll meet up with you later.” After not-so-discreetly wiggling her eyebrows at you, she mouthed what appeared to be “good luck” before sauntering off.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now.” Jungkook chuckled quietly as he watched Jennie walk away before setting his eyes back on you and smiling warmly. You were convinced that his smile was going to be the death of you. “Hopefully you won’t try to run off as quickly as you did the other day.”

“I did not run off!” you scoffed immediately, crossing your own arms over your chest as you feigned offense. Once again, thank god for alcohol, for you were well aware that this conversation would not be happening without it. He was right, but you hadn’t realized he had noticed your urgency in escaping that day. ‘I… I wasn’t even aware that you knew my name.”

“Suuure you didn’t. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough,” Jungkook teased, leaning forward a bit to nudge his shoulder against yours. The area of skin he touched immediately felt like it was on fire, as did your cheeks. “But of course I know your name. We had Earth Science together last year and you’re always studying at the same coffee shop by North campus that I do. You’re kind of hard to miss.”

You? Hard to miss? Not to mention, the Earth Science class was a lecture with over one hundred students in it, and the professor hardly ever took any form of attendance. Sure you could say the same thing about you knowing his name, but that was only because you had gone out of your way to find out who he was after becoming captivated by him upon seeing him at the coffee shop. This didn’t make any sense. Were you dreaming? Hallucinating?

Raising an eyebrow at him, you decided to keep your response simple. “You’ve never talked to me, though…”

“I know, I know.” Jungkook unfolded his arms and clasped both of his hands around his beer bottle, staring down at his fingers as he tapped them against the glass. Maybe it was the dim lighting in the bar, but you could’ve sworn his cheeks darkened as he avoided your eyes. The aroma of cologne and beer coming off of him at the close proximity had you feeling light-headed. “I’ve always wanted to. Planned to talk to you at the coffee shop this week, but you were nowhere to be seen. You just… I… You’re really pretty and you’re always smiling and I kind of freaked out when I saw you taking that class on Monday. I’m pretty shy and not exactly the most confident person so I have no idea why I’m saying this right now… Definitely all of the beer I’ve drank… But I probably shouldn’t be overstepping or saying any of this anyway since I’m starting to realize that you’ve probably been avoiding me or think I’m weird or something. Sorry for offering to drive you home the other day… I realized after that that probably seemed creepy coming from a total stranger.” He looked to the side as he began to nervously tap his foot against the floor. Something that sounded like a nervous laugh pressed through his lips. “Fuck. This is why I barely ever drink.”

Your body remained frozen as you stared at the side of his face, fully aware of the fact that your jaw had dropped and you were visibly gaping at him. No. There was absolutely no way that those words came out of his mouth and he meant them. It had to be the excessive amount of alcohol in his system, right? Or maybe he was just sweet talking you to try to get laid. That had to be it, right? You weren’t sure if you were going to throw up, pass out, or do both at the same time. The vodka taking over your own system was preventing you from being able to form any sort of coherent thought. Still, he deserved a response.

“What? I don’t think you’re weird at all,” you reassured, chewing on your lower lip as you tried to read the expression on his face. God, you really could have come up with something better than that.

Jungkook’s doe eyes at last met yours again, a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Then why’d you lie and say your friend was picking you up and end up walking home on a possibly broken toe instead of letting me drive you home?”

Oh my god, he had seen you do that? You were certain he was completely out of sight when you had dragged yourself out of the building. To be fair, you hadn’t taken into account the fact that the place was covered with windows that would have given anyone access to see outside the front of the building, but why would he have been looking anyway? Just as you thought that day couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing, it did.

The mix of alcohol in your system and your heart pounding in your chest was quickly becoming too much to handle and making you lose control over your faculties. Maybe that was why you blurted out, “I-I don't know… You make me nervous.”

“You make me nervous too!”

Before you could even begin to comprehend the weight of his words, another male figure popped up beside Jungkook and draped an arm over his shoulders. His bright pink hair made him easily identifiable. It was iced chai, also known as Park Jimin. If Jennie had noticed he was there, she certainly would have been freaking out.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you. You just disappeared on me,” Jimin informed Jungkook, his gaze quickly moving to set on your distraught form. If you hadn’t been so out of sorts, perhaps you would’ve noticed the look of recognition in his eyes as they set on you. “I’m sorry, is he bothering you? He never usually goes out with us and gets drunk like this, so I’m sorry if he’s a little chaotic.”

Shaking your head at Jimin, you offered him a comforting smiling. You could feel Jungkook’s concerned eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “No, no. He’s not bothering me at all, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he might do something stupid.” Jimin let out a sigh of relief, looking between the pair of you. Could that ‘something stupid’ be what had just occurred? At last, he gave Jungkook a firm pat on the shoulder. “We have to get going right now. Hoseok thought it’d be a good idea to down five tequila shots in a row after all of the beer we drank back at the dorm. He has his head down on the bar with his eyes closed and I want to get him out of here before he starts puking everywhere. Afraid you might end up in the same state if you keep drinking at this pace too, dude.”

“I’m fiiine,” Jungkook snapped back at him, rolling his eyes as he shrugged Jimin’s arm off of his shoulder. He peered at you for a quick second before his eyes averted downward, the nerves that had been there before refusing to go away. After taking a few moments to ponder what his friend had just told him, he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. We can go. Only because it’s Hoseok though.”

“I’ve already requested the Uber so we should head outside now,” Jimin urged, glancing over toward where Hoseok likely was sitting at the bar.

“Um.” Jungkook at last forced himself to look at you, his lips curving upward into the slightest smile. It seemed forced though, and you knew it was because you didn’t have the opportunity to elaborate on and finish the conversation you were having before Jimin butted in. You also felt as if though you were about to self-implode and needed some time to comprehend what had just unfolded. “Sorry. I have to get going, I guess. I’ll see you around though, okay?”

Nodding your head in agreement, you allowed yourself to return a reassuring smile. ��Okay. I’ll see you around.” This time, it was possible that you meant it.

After he gave you one last anxious look, he turned on his heel and followed Jimin’s lead, disappearing out of your sight.

Where the fuck was Jennie?

After scoping out Jennie in the corner of the bar, you had convinced her that it was absolutely necessary to immediately take an Uber home to debrief on what had occurred. Within half an hour, you had managed to arrive back safely to your dorm and had replaced your uncomfortable clothes with pajamas and your vodka crans with a bottle of wine. Although your mind felt quite foggy from trying to piece together everything that Jungkook had said, you were able to provide Jennie with at least the majority of the details.

“Wait, hold on. Let me think about this.” Jennie threw herself back against your bed, staring up at the ceiling after her head hit the pillows. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you are to Jungkook what Jungkook is to you? Like he pretty much admitted to admiring you from afar and being too afraid to talk to you all of this time?” she questioned, eyes wide in amazement. “God damn, why can’t shit like this happen to me? This is like some fairytale shit. You’re so fucking lucky.”

Taking a big swig directly out of the bottle of cheap rosé, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know. It seems too good to be true. Like, what if he was just really drunk and didn’t know what he was saying? You even said he seemed really drunk. Or like, what if he was just being nice because he was trying to get laid?”

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous. I know this all seems so unreal because we never thought something like this was possible, but the things he said to you were way too specific to just be a fluke.” Jennie sat up straight again and pulled the bottle of wine out of your hands, taking a sip herself. “Besides, I was watching you guys from across the bar. He looked absolutely smitten with you and ridiculously nervous, drunk or not.”

“Fuck, I’m so much better at just daydreaming about guys than actually knowing how to talk to them and attempting to form actual relationships,” you groaned out, closing your eyes and resting your head on Jennie’s shoulder. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I hate to break it to you since I know this is very out of character for you, but you’re going to have to make the next move. He laid his cards on the table, and now the ball is in your court.” Jennie allowed her head to fall on top of yours and passed the bottle of wine back to you. “Based on what you explained to me, you didn’t really provide him with a whole lot of reassurance that the feeling was mutual and he’s probably feeling super embarrassed right now… Like, definitely more embarrassed than you felt after the whole gym incident. You have to let him know that you’re interested in him too.”

Letting out a huff, you tapped your fingers against the glass of the bottle of wine. Jennie did have a valid point, as much as you hated to admit it. Regardless of Jungkook’s intentions and just how drunk he may have been, he had seemed incredibly flustered after rambling on and exposing what he had to you. As much as there was still a part of you that was convinced that he hadn’t meant what he said, there was a bigger part of you that was excited about what this could possibly lead to if you followed through with it. You would have to throw away your nerves and muster up the tiny bit of confidence you had if this was ever going to happen.

“Okay, so what’s the game plan?”

The plan you and Jennie had concocted ended up being a lot more difficult to follow through with than you had initially imagined. The original scheme involved you approaching him at the coffee shop you both always studied at, but despite the numerous occasions you dropped by and spent hours studying there over the next week, he was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if he had adopted the same avoiding technique you had the week prior after being embarrassed at what unfolded at the gym. You weren’t exactly surprised, but it was making this whole thing a lot more complicated for you. Furthermore, the longer it dragged out, the more anxious you got that maybe this was all a bad idea and that you had misunderstood what he said at the bar.

After a week with no luck, Jennie had convinced you that maybe it would be a better idea to try to track him down at the gym. Despite going almost every day and keeping your eyes peeled for him, he was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until a few days later that it dawned on you that the group fitness class schedule was posted online, and that it was possible that he now had some classes that were officially assigned to him. Sure enough, upon checking the recreation website, you quickly discovered that he did have a couple classes that he was set to teach. While this information certainly was helpful, it was quite unfortunate that every class he led happened to be at the ass-crack of dawn. God, were you really interested in the type of guy who gets up extra early to work out? Apparently so.

So that was precisely how you found yourself rolling up to the gym at 6:45am on a Tuesday morning, eyes heavy with exhaustion as you searched for the room the class was being held in. Your heart was pounding and your palm was sweaty against your water bottle, but you were too dedicated to turn around at this point. You had spent over a week trying to track him down, and you at last had.

When you entered the room, Jungkook had not arrived yet. There were already quite a few girls in the room setting up their equipment, so you followed suit. As most participants were often too intimidated to take the spots up front and center in front of where the instructor stood, you took it upon yourself to do the honors. Of course you knew this would make Jungkook want to run the other way, but the thrill of making him as nervous as you were that last time was too exciting to turn down.

The door of the room opened and closed once more, and you didn’t even have to look up to feel his presence. Here we go. “Hi, everyone! Welcome to class. My name is Jungkook and I’ll be your instructor toda--” His voice cut off at the end of his statement, and when you finally allowed your eyes to set on him, he was already looking at you with wide eyes and tinted cheeks. Within a millisecond, his eyes found the ground and he apprehensively took his spot directly in front of you. The poor guy didn’t have a choice. “U-Um, if you guys have any questions before we get started, please don’t hesitate to wave me over!” You had a very strong feeling he was praying you wouldn’t wave him over.

The plan you had created before arriving was to wait until after class was over to ask him if he could talk for a few minutes. You knew it wouldn’t be fair to put him on the spot before class, and you didn’t exactly feel comfortable confessing your feelings for him in front of twenty other girls who were probably drooling over him as well either.

You managed to follow through with the plan, not communicating with Jungkook at all before and throughout the class except for a few soft smiles and some attempted eye contact. The eye contact thing didn’t go over so well though, for whenever you did manage to get Jungkook to lock eyes with you, he’d immediately turn bright red and force himself to look everywhere but at you. His nervous stammering through the microphone when giving instructions was almost too cute to handle.

When the class finally did come to an end and you were a sweaty mess, you sucked in a deep breath as you watched the rest of the participants start to put away their equipment. Setting your eyes on Jungkook, you smiled slightly. “Hey, can we talk?”

Jungkook looked up from his phone, eyes wide and clearly panicked. He scanned your face carefully, almost as if he was trying to guess what your intentions were. At last, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shoved his phone into his pocket. “U-Um, sure, I guess. Let’s just wait until everyone clears out.”

Nodding in agreement, you sat back and watched as the rest of the participants put their materials back in the closet and slowly began to file out of the room. With each person that left, you could sense Jungkook getting more and more anxious. He seemed to be mindlessly checking things around the room, his eyes darting back and forth between the door and any part of you that wasn’t your eyes. By the time the last girl exited, your heart was pounding in your chest as well.

Clearing your throat, you watched as Jungkook walked to the front of the room to shut the door, seeming to take as long as humanly possible to pull it closed. Just as you were about to speak the pitch you had practiced in your head and to Jennie numerous times over the past week, he opened his mouth.

“Look, I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here and I know that I might have been a bit overbearing when I was drunk last week, but if you’re just here to make me nervous and make fun of me and my awkward self for having a crush on you, you can just leave.” He at last whipped around to face you, a sad expression taking over his features as he began to pace back and forth, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He resembled something like a wounded puppy, and the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed just how exhausted and agitated he looked.

That definitely was not what you had expected and you felt awful that he had spent over a week thinking that you were probably teasing him with your friends for what he had said to you at the bar. Furrowing your brow, you pushed yourself up to your feet and crossed your arms over your chest. The planned speech was not going to do in these circumstances. You would have to cut straight to point.

“I dropped that weight on my foot because I’ve been ridiculously attracted to you for over a year and got embarrassingly flustered at the sight of your shirt riding up during class.”

Jungkook stopped dead in his tracks, clasping both of his hands behind his head as he at last allowed himself to look at you. His eyes were wide in shock, his head tilted just slightly to the left. “Wait, what?”

“I didn’t want you to drive me home because I was already so embarrassed and was so nervous that I would’ve only embarrassed myself more trying to talk to you without making a complete fool out of myself.”

As you spoke again, Jungkook hesitantly took a couple of steps in your direction. It seemed as if though his expression was slowly softening, and what almost appeared to be a small smile was fighting to form on the corners of his lips. “I asked you to borrow a pen that one time in Earth Science with plans to work up the nerve to talk to you at the end of class when I had to give it back, but instead I just kept it and ran out of the room because I got too nervous.”

Unable to hide your own smile now, you allowed yourself to take a step toward him. The closer you got to each other, the more the tension in the room built. “I lied and said that I had an extra pen that day, but really I gave you my only one and just didn’t take notes that whole class.”

At last, that familiar bunny smile stretched across Jungkook’s whole face, his chest bubbling in laughter as he threw his head back. “I once tried to ‘accidentally’ drop a book near you at the coffee shop in hopes that you’d pick it up and talk to me, but instead I just dropped it and tripped over it.” Another step forward.

Giggling quietly, you chewed on your lower lip as you advanced forward. “My friends and I have collectively referred to you by the code name ‘hot coffee shop boy’ ever since the first time I saw you there. Also, ‘sexy gym instructor boy’ since last week.”

Jungkook’s eyes were boring into yours at this point, his body inching forward just slightly as his toes finally bumped against yours. The tension-- not just from what was happening at the moment, but also from a year of pining after each other-- was so close to bubbling over. “My friends and I know you as ‘hot coffee shop girl.’ Also, ‘toe girl’ since last week.” The warm smile on his lips had twisted into a sort of mischievous smirk.

Leaning your head forward the slightest bit, your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “If I haven’t made it clear yet, I’m extremely into you.”

Jungkook’s eyes-- which had darkened quite a bit over the last minute-- flickered down to your lips, his own head leaning forward an inch. With this movement, the tip of his nose brushed against yours. “And if I haven’t made it obvious yet, I’m extremely into you too.”

Before you could utter another word, Jungkook closed the minimal space remaining between the two of you by crashing his plump lips into yours. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, one moving along the back of your head to tangle into your hair. Your own hands gripped to the front of his shirt as you stumbled back a bit due to the impact, your back bumping against the mirror in the front of the room. The tension that had previously been building had popped the moment his lips met yours, but as his fingers tugged on your hair and his tongue found its way between your lips, you felt it resurfacing, this time between your legs. You felt a bit flustered getting turned on this quickly by him, but when you put it into perspective, you had been waiting for this moment to unravel for over a year. As your hands slid up the front of his shirt to rest on his defined core, you were certain you could feel his length getting hard against your thigh.

Pulling away after a minute, Jungkook rested his forehead against yours and stared deeply into your eyes as he breathed heavily. There was a playful smirk on his lips as he dropped the hand from your face and rested it on your hip. It was nice to see that he had finally let his guard down. “So, I have to ask. Are you more for sex first or a fancy date first? I’m happily offering both, but we’re both kind of coming off a bit impatient here.”

Biting your tongue to hold in your laughter, you couldn’t ignore the way that the heat in the pit of your stomach was quickly sinking down lower between your legs. “You know, if you hadn’t been so difficult to track down this past week, I may have taken you up on that fancy date first.” You ghosted your fingers over his stomach, eliciting a surprised jolt out of him. “But after you made me wait so long, I think you just might have to fuck me first.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise at your lewd words before he smirked and pressed his body against yours a bit harder, leaning forward to kiss a trail of wet kisses down your jawline. “I’m happy to be at your service, but we’re kind of out in the open here. I could drive us back to my room, that is if you’ll actually get in the car with me this time.”

Rolling your eyes at his teasing comment, you shoved at his chest. Regardless, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were feeling incredibly impatient and weren’t sure you would be able to handle the wait while he transported you across campus. Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes scanned the room. “Equipment closet. It’s spacious enough, it locks, and there’s no windows.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. When he didn’t find any, he smirked and pulled back, grabbing your hand in his. “You know, I had planned on doing a lot of things today, but fucking in an equipment closet at the ripe hour of eight in the morning certainly wasn’t one of them.”

“Get used to it, hot coffee shop boy.” Smirking to yourself, you allowed him to drag you towards the closet, pressing your back against the door after he closed and locked it behind you. “Are you complaining?”

Rapidly shaking his head, Jungkook leaned forward and peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone, only pulling back to tug your shirt and sports bra over your head. “No, no. Just concerned you’re going to be the death of me before I even get started with you.” Taking a step back, he pulled his own shirt over his head before allowing his eyes to rake up and down your body. A combination of lust and admiration filled his eyes as he stepped toward you again. “God, you really are so beautiful.”

Despite the fact that you had both been completely open with each other and the current situation being far from romantic, you felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Shaking your head, you poked him in the stomach. “Speak for yourself. That’s the reason why I almost broke my toe.”

Throwing back his head in laughter, Jungkook stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting your body up and placing you down on top of a few stacked crates full of equipment. “Mmm, I can make it up to you right now.”

Leaning forward, you pressed a few kisses along the corners of his lips and his jaw. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Shhh, patience.” Jungkook grinned as he bent down, slowly kissing a trail down your neck and collarbones. When he reached your breasts, he slowed down his pace, carefully taking one of your nipples between his lips and softly sucking at the skin. Once he established a rhythm that he was satisfied with, he lifted a hand and latched it around your other breast, kneading the skin between his fingers.

Letting out a soft moan, you threw your head back in pleasure and closed your eyes. Your hands fastened around his neck, gently tugging at the hair on the back of his head. The longer his lips and hands worked at your breasts, the more the heat between your legs throbbed. “How am I supposed to be patient when I’ve waited so long for this?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his lips making a popping noise as he removed them from your breast. “You make a fair point.” Kissing down your stomach, he urged you to lift your hips as he tugged your leggings and panties down your legs and allowed them to fall into a pile on the floor. Kneeling down on the floor, his lips trailed their way up the inside of your thigh. “Mmm, so wet already and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Whimpering softly at the feeling of his lips so close to where you needed them, you bucked your hips upward in an attempt to feel any sort of friction. “P-Please.”

Chuckling quietly, Jungkook’s dark eyes remained on yours as he ghosted his lips over your dripping pussy. The shy, insecure boy that he claimed to be earlier was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was now indulging in the power he held over you. “Who made you this wet? Tell me.”

“You, J-Jungkook. You did,” you whined out, attempting to push down on the back of his head.

Jungkook flashed you a satisfied smirk, nodding his head. “That’s all I needed to hear, babe.” Without another word, he gripped his hands around your thighs roughly and lifted your legs to drape over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he closed the remaining space and attached his lips to your pussy. Rather than making you wait any longer to have the tension relieved, he immediately went to work on your throbbing clit, gently sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Once he was pleased by the moans leaving your lips and the clenching of your thighs, he pulled his lips off and replaced it with his tongue. Expertly circling his tongue on your clit, he reached one hand down and, without warning, began to pump one of his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, Jungkook,” you moaned out loudly, pulling harshly at his hair with one hand and reaching the other up to pinch at one of your nipples. “R-Right there.”

“Mmm, need to get you stretched out and ready for my cock,” he murmured against your heat, quickly inserting another finger and curving them at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot with every pulse. After circling your clit with his tongue a few more times, he encircled the bud with his lips yet again, this time humming against it to add an extra feeling of friction.

The sensation of his tongue and fingers working on your pussy and the sight of his glistening face was quickly becoming too much to handle. With every movement, the bundle of nerves in your core was getting closer and closer to snapping and sending you into that blissful state you so longed for. Biting down on your lower lip roughly, you closed your eyes tightly. “I-I’m close.”

“Open your eyes. I want you looking at me while you cum all over my tongue,” he rasped out after pulling back slightly, only leaning back down once you obeyed his command. After a moment, he wet two of his fingers on his tongue before quickly beginning to circle them on your clit, moving his tongue in and out of your cunt at the same speed.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook!” you yelled out, forcing your eyes to remain open and fixed on his as you were quickly sent over the edge and into a state of ecstasy. Your walls spasmed around his tongue as your vision became blurry and filled with stars. The feeling was only prolonged as Jungkook kept moving his tongue until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached forward to push his head back slightly, left completely breathless as you stared at him.

Getting off his knees and onto his feet, Jungkook stared down at you in awe, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. The sight of your release on his lips that he refused to wipe off had your core already begging for more. “God, that was so fucking hot. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Letting out a deep breath, he pecked your lips a couple times.

“How are you so fucking good at that?” you muttered against his lips, blindly reaching forward in search of the tie on his sweatpants. Once you found it, you tugged roughly at it, sitting up straighter to urge both his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Chuckling to himself, Jungkook assisted you and pulled the articles of clothing down the length of his legs, stepping out of them once they reached the floor. “I’d like to think that I’m a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets…” His eyes wandered around the room for a moment. “Or in the gym equipment room, apparently.”

Rolling your eyes and giggling at his joke, you pulled him forward again to peck his lips. “You know, if you moved to the side and let me get up, I’d happily return the favor.” Your eyes wandered down the front of his body until they set on his hardened cock resting against his stomach, the sight of it causing you to clench your thighs together.

Shaking his head in response, Jungkook flashed you a shy smile. God, how could he be so sexual yet so cute at the same time? “As enticing as that sounds and as much as I would never turn that down on any other occasion, I’m afraid I’m not going to last if I don’t fuck you right now.” Stepping forward, he looked down before cursing under his breath. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me. We don’t have fuck to if you’re not comfortable.”

“Wow, you didn’t bring a condom with you to your 7am fitness class? How irresponsible of you,” you joked, shoving his shoulder before pulling him closer to you. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean, so as long as you’re clean it’s fine with me.”

“You know, you’re going to regret teasing me,” he warned, laughing softly as he nudged his nose against yours. “But yes, I’m clean too.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you raised a mocking eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? And why am I going to regret it?”

Without another word, Jungkook reached down and grabbed his cock with one of his hands. Rather than pushing it right inside of you, he instead slowly started to rub its angry red tip up and down your folds. His eyes remained on yours, a teasing smirk tugging at the edges of his lips.

Biting on your tongue to suppress your whimpers, your eyes wandered down to the area between your thighs. “W-What are you doing?”

Pressing his lips against your jawline, he let out an amused chuckle. “Nothing until you tell me what you need. Use your words, sweetheart.”

Reaching around him, you dug your nails into the skin on his upper back. It wasn’t in your character to beg during sex, but the sight of the tip of his cock glistening in your juices from your first orgasm was enough to make you give in. “P-Please fuck me, Jungkook.” You forced yourself to lock eyes with him, hoping that the desperation you were exuding would be enough to make him cave.

Grinning in amusement against the skin of your neck, he nodded his head. “Good girl.” Sliding his cock down your folds one last time, he slowly slid it inside of your entrance once he reached it, a loud groan escaping his lips as he pushed all the way inside of you. “F-Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Moaning out in pleasure at the feeling of fullness, you whimpered as you watched the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you. The spectacle alone was enough to make the heat in your core reemerge, and your body was pleading for him to do more. “M-Move. F-Faster, please.”

Grabbing one of your legs, he extended it upward and propped it over his shoulder. After getting a good grip on it, he quickly began to thrust in and out of you. “Yeah? You like that, babe?” he breathed out, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure before he buried his face into your neck again.

Dragging your nails down his sweaty back, you were sure you were going to leave some marks behind. It only took a few moments for the feeling of overstimulation to wash away, and a new, deeper pleasure to replace it. With your leg hanging over his shoulder, his cock managed to hit you at just the right angle with every thrust. Using your grip on his back to press your body closer to his, you took the opportunity to wrap your free leg tightly around his waist. The new position made it so his cock brushed against your clit every time he pulled it out of you, the feeling nearly having your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “O-Oh my god, right there.”

Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes remained fixed on yours as he lifted one hand off of your thigh, pressing his index and middle finger together and moving them toward your mouth. “Open.” Once you complied, he inserted his fingers into your mouth. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he watched the way you closed your lips, swirling your tongue around his digits a couple of times before sliding your lips back up and releasing them with a loud ‘pop.’ There was a mesmerized look in Jungkook’s eyes as his thrusts slowed for a moment. “J-Jesus fuck, that was hot.”

A cocky smirk initially tried to spread across your lips, but it was washed away the moment he began to circle his lubricated fingers over your clit, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy at a pace that had you ready to unravel at any second. “I-I’m close.”

Letting out what sounded like a combination of a groan and a whimper, Jungkook leaned forward and brushed his lips over yours. “Cum all over my cock for me, babe.”

“J-Jungkook, f-fuck!” The sound of his raspy command and the feeling of his cock inside of you was all it took to push you over the edge again. Your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first, a sensation of rapturous bliss overtaking your senses as your toes curled and your thighs were left convulsing around his body. While your mind went foggy for a few seconds, the strain that was left in the back of your throat suggested that you had yelled out in pleasure quite loudly. The euphoria was dragged out even longer as Jungkook had yet to reach his own high, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you stared up at him with hazy vision, gasping for breath.

“I-I’m close too,” Jungkook whimpered out, eyes screwing shut as your walls continued to twitch around his cock in the aftershock of your orgasm. “W-Where do you want me to cum, babe?”

Coming back to your senses, you blinked a few times until your vision returned back to normal. Finally processing his request, you used quite a bit of your strength to push him back a bit, ignoring the confused look on his face. Using the space in front of you, you pushed yourself off of the elevated surface before getting down on your knees. “My mouth.” Reaching forward, you grasped his shaft in one hand, pumping his length a few times before leaning down and capturing his tip between your lips. After circling your tongue around it a few times, you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down.

“O-Oh my… F-Fuck, Y/N.” Jungkook quickly adapted to the new sensation, his hands reaching around your head to tangle into your hair and urge your head down his cock further. He locked eyes with you from above, his legs trembling around your head. Taking notice of just how close he was, you forced your mouth down further to accommodate the rest of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around his length at the bottom. The motion and the feeling of the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat was enough to make you gag, and that was all it took to push Jungkook to his climax.

Jungkook was a groaning mess above you as he released his load down your throat, unconsciously thrusting into your mouth further a couple of times to ride out of high. After a few more spurts of his hot cum filled your mouth, you worked your mouth back up his length. Once your lips popped off of the tip of his cock, you pulled back and swallowed thickly, the salty taste of his release lingering in your throat.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Jungkook reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you up onto your feet in front of him. Despite the crude nature of what had just occurred, the smile stretched across his lips seemed so… Innocent. “Well… That happened.” He reached up and pushed the sweaty hair that was sticking to his forehead out of his face.

Laughing softly at his words, you bit your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “I mean, that’s certainly one way to work out at the gym.”

Jungkook’s whole body shook as he erupted into laughter, leaning down and beginning to grab all of your discarded clothing articles off of the ground. He sorted through them and handed you back yours, beginning to redress himself after. Once he was dressed, he grabbed a towel out of one of the crates and made sure the area was clean. “Don’t forget we worked out before too. That’s two whole workouts. We’re going to need to fuel up with some electrolytes or coffee or something.”

Forcing your damp leggings back onto your sweaty body wasn’t exactly the easiest or most enjoyable thing to do, but you managed. Once your shirt was back on, you looked back over at him and feigned an exaggerated amount of excitement. “Oh my god, am I going to be able to get coffee with hot coffee shop boy?”

“Only if hot coffee shop girl would be so willing to accompany him,” Jungkook jived, nudging your shoulder with his before unlocking and pulling open the door of the closet. To your relief, the room was still empty and there seemed to be no one lurking outside of it. Grabbing his backpack at the front of the room, he slung it over his shoulder. “It might be a good idea for us to shower first, though. I have a strong suspicion that we probably smell prettttty bad.”

Grabbing your own bag and water bottle, you laughed in amusement as you followed him out the door of the classroom and into the main area of the gym. “I have a feeling you’re right. Should we shower and plan to meet up after?”

Walking through the lobby, Jungkook held open the main door for you before following you outside. It was much brighter out now than when you had arrived at the facility almost two hours prior. Time really does fly by when you’re having fun. “I feel like we can’t really be trusted with the whole ‘see you around’ thing and going our separate ways just yet after the shit we both pulled avoiding each other the past couple weeks. Plus, I’m not quite done with you just yet.”

Snickering at the reminder of your past dramatic behavior, you nodded your head in agreement. “So what did you have in mind?”

Stopping in his tracks, Jungkook turned to face you. “So first, I was thinking you could come back to my place and we could both shower there. I could provide you with some clothes for the time being, but if you need to change later, I can bring you back to your place.” The corners of his lips began to twitch upward. “However, that would require you getting into my car with me, and history suggests that doing so ‘makes you nervous,’ or something like that.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I remember something about me making you nervous too. I think some weird drunk guy told me that.” Scoffing at his flirtatious teasing, you playfully shoved his chest. “Anything else planned?”

“Hey, that ‘weird drunk guy’ is the reason we’re here today,” he scoffed, grabbing one of your hands off of his chest and lacing his fingers with yours. “Then I was thinking we could go to our favorite coffee shop. But… And I know this is kind of a wild idea... I’m thinking we sit at the same table for the first time instead of dropping pens and books to try to get each other’s attention from across the room.”

Squeezing his hand, you began to follow him as he led the way to what you assumed was going to be his car. “A bold suggestion, but I’m into it. Might have you drop a book at my feet and I’ll stare at you across the room longingly just for old time’s sake.” When you reached a shiny black SUV, Jungkook unlocked it and walked around the passenger side, opening the door for you. “So I’m guessing these plans involve us skipping classes today?”

“Well, obviously.” Jungkook flashed you a bright grin as you climbed into the car, shutting the door gently once you were in the seat. He ran around the front of it and quickly hopped into the driver’s seat, leaning over to look at you once inside. “And then once the evening comes, as I suggested earlier, I would still love to take you out to dinner, if you’d let me.” Despite everything that had just unfolded and all of the confessions you both had shared, there still appeared to be a glimmer of nervousness and hesitation in his eyes.

Leaning to the side, you reached over and placed your hand on top of his. Your lips formed into a reassuring smile. “I would love to.”

Jungkook lifted your hand that was over his to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against your fingers. “Good.” Turning to face forward, he started the car and began to back out of the space. As he looked at the pathway in front of the gym, he directed a mischievous smirk at you. “Remember that time you walked back to your room on a swollen toe to avoid getting into my car with me? Good times.”

Letting out a groan, you covered your flushed face with both of your hands. “If you don’t shut up, I’m about to hit you with a ‘see you around’ and roll right out of the side of your car while it’s moving.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorrrry,” Jungkook laughed to himself, grabbing the wrist closest to him to pull your hand off of your face. “As compensation for your shame, I will make another embarrassing confession.” He knitted his brow together as he thought for a few moments before chuckling to himself as a memory came to mind. “I once accidentally liked one of your Instagram pictures that was like… 72 weeks old and almost considered moving to another country and changing my identity. I unliked it right away and you probably didn’t even notice, but I was stressed. There. Does that make you feel better?”

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, you glanced at the side of his face. “Mmm, a little bit. I think I’m going to need you to keep going.”

Jungkook scoffed as he placed your hand that he was holding down on his thigh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How is that fair? I think I deserve some form of payment if I’m going to keep exposing myself too.”

“Fine, fine.” You gently squeezed his thigh, your mind sifting through all of the embarrassing things you had done in the past due to your embarrassing infatuation of the boy who was now sitting beside you. “I tried to order you, like, a sort of secret admirer coffee on Valentine’s Day, but the barista ended up giving it to the wrong guy and I ended up leaving the shop because I was so mortified.”

“Aw, I’ve always wanted to have a secret admirer,” Jungkook teased, parking the car in front of his building. “God, we really could go on forever with these embarrassing stories, huh?”

Nodding your head, you reached your hand up and playfully poked at his dimple. “It sure seems that way. We’re kind of the worst.”

Unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the car, he met you at the front of it and draped an arm over your shoulders. “Good. Just gives me another reason to keep you around longer.”

And while ‘see you around’ hadn’t been a promise that either of you kept before, keeping you around from then on certainly was one that he fulfilled.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fic #college au #bts college au #jeongguk fic #ddaengtae #shamelesslyimagining

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jkstompers · 3 years

Text

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,” yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

496 notes · View notes

oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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wonjaekook · 3 years

Text

Residual Starshine

Pairing: Soccer player!Yuta x fem!reader

Description: You’ve experienced plenty of irritations in your life. For better or for worse, none of them are quite like Nakamoto Yuta.

Word Count: 19.3k

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers ; fluff, smut, touch of angst

Warnings: my first published full blown smut scene (only one towards the end, nothing crazy), sexual references?, swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Mingyu appears as a somewhat bad character in this, but I absolutely don’t think of him that way. As always, this is entirely fictional. If you want one song to vibe to while reading this, I was listening to Everybody Talks by Neon Trees a lot :-) this is the longest fic I’ve ever written and the first one containing smut that I’ve ever published, so please let me know what you thought!

Taglist: @junglewoos @insomni-writing @neowritingsnet

This is my contribution to @/leesmrk’s sports collab, but she deactivated (Dee I miss you) so @lucas-wongs has compiled the masterlist in her stead! The link to the master post with all other submissions is in my masterlist.

You didn’t expect to be spending your first morning before classes with your face smashed into your pillow, pressing the cotton over your ears. Yesterday morning had been perfectly lovely - you slept a solid eight hours and you only awoke to the beautiful morning sunshine greeting you through your blinds. All things considered, it was a very natural wake-up. However, the loud J-rock blaring through the floor from the apartment below you is the exact opposite of natural. Perhaps the music isn’t as loud as you perceive it to be, but you happen to take things quite personally when you’re woken up an hour early.

Except, you don’t take it personally enough that you force your body out of bed. Instead, you allow yourself to let out a loud groan of annoyance before you pull your covers over your head. Thankfully, the music shuts off about five minutes later and you drift back off to sleep.

When you awaken again an hour later, the sunlight coming into your room doesn’t seem nearly as friendly as it did yesterday. Still, this time you do force yourself to get up. You go through your usual routine - bathroom, change into your running clothes, and stretch. You hear no sounds of any stirring from your roommates as you get ready. It’s somewhat of a relief to have the apartment to yourself in the morning. You put your headphones in and step out of the apartment, trying to get yourself in the zone with your workout playlist while also doing a quick look around to see if anyone is out. One set of stairs and you’re at the door leading out of the small complex - a building with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. Outside on the step leading to the sidewalk and there’s still no one around. Without a second of hesitation more, you’re off at a light jog. Half of the apartments in this area of your campus are dedicated to student athletes and there’s nothing you dread more than running, quite literally, into someone who’s by far your superior at this activity and who would judge you. As you run, the thought of your lower neighbor comes to you. You wake up early to go run - but they woke up earlier. At that thought, a frown subconsciously makes its way to your face. Shooting a quick prayer to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone, you continue on.

Though you hadn’t started running until this summer, you know your campus well enough in the years you’ve been here to find a nice path. That also means that, when you see pairs of runners ahead of you, you can make unexpected turns to avoid passing them. At one point, you veer out of the way of a pack of people who you assume is the running club. About forty five minutes later, you’re sweaty and more physically exhausted than when you had left, but the energy thrumming in your veins leaves you with a deep sense of satisfaction. You had successfully avoided every person you had come across on your run and-

You nearly open the door of your complex into one of your neighbors. Acting on reflex, you step back and dip your head, avoiding looking at him. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” His voice is a smooth rumble and you look up, briefly forgetting about your sweaty and near-unpresentable state. He looks freshly showered, his skin smooth and just slightly sunkissed. Based on his physique, you would have guessed that he’s a student athlete, but his hair seems a little too long to match the stereotype. It’s a bit of a mane, a dark mop sitting atop the throne of his handsome face, and you think it suits him. As your eyes drift from his hair to his eyes to his nose and finally to his mouth, which has been set into the crooked angle of a smirk, it dawns on you that you’re checking him out very openly. Your face, already warm from exercise, turns blazing hot. After all of the hard work you went through to avoid embarrassing yourself this morning… “You’re cute, too, don’t worry.”

Several very intrusive thoughts come to you at once. By his very specific phrasing, he thinks you’re attractive. He also knows he’s attractive. The warmth of the complement fades to indignation at his cockiness. You press your mouth into a thin line and lower your head again, not making eye contact with him as you slip past him through the door. You’re not sure if his gaze follows you as you march back up the stairs to your apartment.

“One of our neighbors is a total ass!”

One of your roommates, Sowon, is lounging on your sofa as you sit at the small table in your shared living room, grinding the pen in your hand into your planner in frustration. It’s well into the afternoon now, the sun casting lines of shadows through your blinds, and you’re still hung up on what happened earlier. Sowon is also perfectly aware that you’re exaggerating, but she encourages you to continue. “The soccer neighbors or the volleyball neighbors?”

“Of course it’s one of the soccer neighbors! The volleyball neighbors would never do this to me.” You huff, eying the nearly empty container of cookies on the table.

“You’re aware that Johnny just brought those over so he had an excuse to hit on Yein, right?” Sowon releases a strand of hair that she had just idly wrapped around a finger, watching it twirl in the air. Your second roommate only sighs at the mention of her name, but doesn’t deny it.

“And Doyoung was the one who actually made them. So, by association, I am entitled to an equal share of cookies.” You consider Doyoung a friend - you shared a chemistry class with him once and he seemed to tolerate your presence, even enjoy it at times. He even sends you the occasional text still. “That doesn’t mean Yein isn’t going to be the one to give the container back, though.”

Yein frowns and opens her mouth but Sowon raises a finger to stop her. “Y/N is correct.”

With a shake of her head, Yein turns her attention back to you. “You were talking about the soccer neighbor?”

After you explain the situation as truthfully and dramatically as possible to them, they look at each other once before looking back at you. Sowon speaks first. “He’s definitely flirting.”

“Or he’s just like that naturally.” Yein counters. “Who flirts at eight in the morning?”

“You’d be surprised.” After you say that, her words sink in. You ran into him at eight in the morning, when he was looking refreshed. He’s a member of the soccer team, meaning he probably exercises in the morning. He also has pretty stereotypical rocker hair. “Holy shit, he’s the asshole who was blasting J-rock through the floor this morning!”

“Okay, never mind. He is a jerk.” Sowon wrinkles her nose.

“Was it at least good J-rock?” Yein prods.

You shrug. “It was alright, I guess. But that’s besides the point!” You slam your planner closed. “I’m giving him a piece of my mind the next time I see him.”

For several days, as classes start, you still get in your morning run and, each day, without fail, you’re woken up by the boy’s J-rock about an hour early. You fail to catch him at any time of the day until, finally, you’re on your way out of the apartment one morning. As you pull open the door, you nearly ram into him once again, though the situation is reversed. He’s the one who’s sweaty and warm, headphones firmly in his ears. That changes as he smirks, popping them out at the sight of you in the door. “So, we meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” You take the position of a displeased mother about to lecture a child, your arms crossed over your chest as you block the door. “You know, I have words for you.”

“Wow, already? People usually don’t have words for me until at least the third time we’ve met. Well, at least not more than a few choice ones like-”

You cut him off before he can inflate his own ego more. “Stop playing music so loud at six in the morning.”

He tilts his head like he’s confused, but the way his lips are quirked up tells you that he knows exactly what you’re talking about. “Baseless accusations. Maybe you should take this up with Jaehyun or Kun. I would never do such a thing.”

“Come on. I know it’s you.” The look you give him is entirely unamused, so he relents slightly, the smile falling from his face.

“What are you gonna do, report me to housing?” Before you can reply that, yes, that’s exactly what you’ll do, he continues. “I’ll tell them about the parties you and your roommates have. I’m sure they’d love coming out here at 3 AM one day just to tell you to keep it down. Almost as much as they’d love to come to my door at 6 to do the same.”

He starts walking towards the door and you turn your body inward, allowing him passage while silently fuming. “You-”

“My name is Nakamoto Yuta. You can say that if you need something to scream.” He gifts you a sly wink as he unlocks his door and lets himself in, leaving you so bewildered that you can’t think of a response at all.

“Stop messing with the soccer boys.” Sowon immediately reprimands you after you recount what happened. “You know the school will punish us before they punish them.”

“Yeah, and if this is your way of flirting, you need to think of something better.” Yein adds from the connected kitchen, tossing the stir-fry in her pan. “I’m not risking getting kicked out because you decided to mess with the soccer team’s star player.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he was really upset about the interaction. He seemed amused by my reaction.” You slump down, your forehead resting on the table. “And I didn’t know who he was until he said his name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know who you are-”

“And I don’t want him to.” You cut off Sowon. “I’ll just… deal with it.”

You get one more peaceful morning of running alone before, two days after you had first talked to him, Nakamoto Yuta comes jogging up to you. You don’t hear him at first. Music blares in your earbuds, drowning out most of the background noise of the morning, and your heartbeat in your ears fills out the parts of your internal sound profile that your music doesn’t quite reach. He comes up behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin when you see the figure of another person jogging in your peripherals. Your pace falters, but you immediately try to right yourself and regain momentum, praying he’ll just pass by you without saying anything. Except he doesn’t leave. With an internal sigh, you turn your head towards him. He offers you a grin and air-taps over his ear. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you pull out your headphones. “What?”

“Great morning, isn’t it?”

You contemplate shutting your eyes so that you can purposefully trip and eject yourself from this conversation. “I guess.”

“It’s soccer season. You know that, right?” You narrow your eyes at him, but nod. “Our first game is coming up soon.” You don’t like where this is going. “You should come.” “You must be hard-pressed for attendees to be randomly asking your neighbor to come to your game.” You reach for your earbuds again.

“Hold on, hold on.” You pause, then immediately wonder why you’re even giving him the time of day. Still, you relent for a moment. “If you come to the game this Saturday, I’ll stop playing music so loud when I wake up.”

“If you were a kind and courteous neighbor, you would just do that without having to threaten me to go to one of your games. And,” you state flatly, “I’ve already been to enough soccer games for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

As you jog away, he doesn’t try to stop you again, but you could swear that he seems the slightest bit disappointed.

The next morning is more of the same as usual. The same loud J-rock that wakes you up an hour early, your same run, your same shower and breakfast and classes. You consider shifting your sleep schedule so that you wake up at the same time as Yuta, though you dismiss the idea because why should you change your lifestyle to adjust for his? You’d rather suffer the early wakeup.

Except, two days after he asks you to come to one of his games, the music stops. That first morning, you wake up at your usual time. You’re prepared to be upset at Yuta waking you early again, but when your foggy morning brain processes that you had woken up to your own alarm and not his music, you lie there confused. When you go out for your run not long after, you almost hope that you’ll run into him. There’s no way he’s just being nice is there? He has to be sick or something. To your disappointment, you don't run into him and you’re just stuck in your confusion. This goes on for three more days and each day you become more perplexed.

As you’re returning to your apartment after your classes that Friday, someone holds the door for you as you approach. “Thanks-” you start, then see who’s holding it for you. “-oh! Jaehyun!”

“Hey, uh, Y/N, right?” You smile at him, nodding firmly. You’re almost surprised that he remembers your name because you’d only chatted once before, back when you were moving in. He’s perfectly polite, almost shy-seeming, and completely different from his roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just getting back from classes.” Thinking of his roommate… “I was actually wondering, um…” He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to continue. “Is Yuta doing okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?” Jaehyun hadn’t been aware that you were at all acquainted with his roommate.

You appear equally as confused as he does. “Oh, I… never mind. If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your next game?”

He brightens up at that. “It’s a home game. Tomorrow at six, don’t miss it!”

You return his smile. “Great, thanks, Jaehyun! I’ll see you around?” He sends you off with a wave before you go your separate ways, entering your respective apartments.

Should you actually go to his game? You don’t owe him anything, you never agreed to his deal, but he did stop playing his music so loud. You’re not really doing anything on Saturday either… maybe you’ll bug Sowon and Yein so that they’ll come with you.

That evening, the apartment below yours is particularly busy. All of the soccer boys are home - Yuta, Jaehyun, Kun - and the volleyball and art boys are also over - Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Ten, and Sicheng. After all, as Johnny says, Friday nights are for the boys. Conversation flows from school to girls to boys to soccer, upon which Jaehyun shares a very interesting observation with his friends.

“By the way, it seems like you have another admirer, Yuta.” Jaehyun says as he takes a swig of his soju, recently acquired from the nearby Korean market and grossly overpriced.

“Sure,” Yuta responds, rolling his eyes, “who would that be?”

“You know that girl from upstairs? Y/N? She asked about you today and then asked me about our next game.”

“We haven’t even had our first game and you’re already collecting fangirls? Come on, Yuta,” Kun chimes in this time, breaking away from his conversation with Sicheng about their shared organic chemistry class.

“That can’t be right,” Yuta says, leaning back into the couch, “L/N Y/N? I’m pretty sure she hates my guts. I tried to make a deal with her to get her to come to the game and she just brushed me off.”

Doyoung narrows his eyes at his friend. “Y/N doesn’t just hate people for no reason. What did you do?”

Yuta raises his hands defensively and half-glares at him. “I didn’t do anything! I was just being myself and she decided to hate me.”

“The star-player, cocky version of yourself or the normal version of yourself?” Doyoung says, looking entirely unamused.

Yuta thinks back to all of the encounters he’s had with you and cringes slightly. “Listen, she was the one who was checking me out first-”

“Stupid.” Doyoung shakes his head before taking a sip of the water he’s drinking. “Some people take well to forwardness, but not her.”

“Are you sure? Because if she’s asked after me, I think that means she likes it.”

“I am going to spike a ball into your head, you-”

“Guys, calm down,” Sicheng says with a rather flat tone. Instantly, the two bickering boys stop, resorting to glaring at each other. Jaehyun gently shoves his roommate to get his attention and the room quickly returns to normal. Later, Doyoung passes Yuta a new bottle once his has run out, so he knows that the younger was never truly angry at him. The small party doesn’t go long into the night - tomorrow’s the first game of the season, after all - and, surprisingly, there isn’t much noise from their upstairs neighbor either.

That is mostly thanks to you. You had convinced your two party-addicted friends to attend someone else’s get together instead of hosting their own, so you ushered them out of the house at around ten in the evening. You know that they’ll come back fine in a few hours, rumpled and with their makeup half sweated off, buzzing with alcohol and the blaring music of whatever houseparty they were invited to, but you still tell them that your phone will be off of silent in case they need anything. Previous semesters, you might have gone with them, but, now, you just want to sleep so you can wake up early and go on your usual run.

The morning comes with your sleep uninterrupted by your roommates. After you awaken, instead of lying in bed and contemplating life for a while, you drag yourself up and to their rooms, where you find each of them peacefully asleep in their beds. Yein bothered to change out of her party clothes and into pajamas while Sowon didn’t, her dress half off of her shoulder and bunched up under her butt. Both of them are snoring away, hugging pillows and blankets.

The relief of seeing your roommates in good condition adds a spring to your step. A few minutes later, after you’ve stretched on the floor of your bedroom, you’re halfway out the outside door of the complex when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You know who it is even before you turn around.

“Y/N,” Yuta says, grinning much too brightly for how early it is. He doesn’t seem like he’s been out yet, which is strange. “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You lift an eyebrow.

“Perfectly!” As he talks, you begin to move farther out the door. Down one step. Down two steps. On the sidewalk. “Do you want to run together?”

“Shouldn’t you be just coming back from doing that?” You pull out your phone.

He quickly matches his stride to yours. “I decided to start running an hour later on the weekends. You know, sleep in a bit since I have the time.”

“I’m happy for you.” You select a song and put one ear of your headphones in.

“Are you coming tonight?”

“Didn’t I already answer that?” In all honesty, you feel like you should be more irritated with him than you actually are. He’s at least amusing to talk to. Plus, he stopped waking you up an hour early without you even promising to come to his game.

“Yeah, but then you asked Jaehyun about it.”

You stop moving, turning to look at him. He has another one of those infuriating smirks on his face and all of your previous enjoyment flies out the window. “Maybe I’m a huge fan of his.”

“What position does he play?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Now, your face is already warming and you haven’t even begun your exercise. You turn away from him again and begin to slowly jog. “Bye, Yuta.”

“He’s a midfielder! And I’m a forward! You can see today at the game!” He calls after you as you get farther away, his voice getting more distant. Part of you feels bad for your neighbors - the windows aren’t exactly soundproof. You just wave a hand back at him in dismissal. A minute later, you look behind you. To your great relief, and mild surprise, he isn’t following you. He went the complete opposite direction.

“Will you guys please come with me? I promise some of the guys on the team are hot.” You tug on Sowon’s sleeve like a child does to their mother when they want something.

“I thought you hated college soccer because of your brother.” She flips a page in her textbook, scribbling down something in her notes.

“I don’t think this one will be so bad. Our team is supposed to be really good this year, right?” You look hopefully at her.

“How am I supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? Today is their first game.” She stops attempting to study, looking at you. “Also, I’m messing around. I’ll go with you.”

You look at your other roommate, who is in the middle of the very exhaustive task of sitting on your sofa and scrolling through her phone. She gives you a thumbs up. “As long as I can put on face paint!”

A couple hours later, you find yourselves in the bleachers surrounding the soccer field. It’s a modest stadium, not a stadium at all but just a normal soccer field with bleachers on either side and some decently sized flood lights for night usage. Not too far away is a moderately sized building that is a shared locker room space for all of the school’s athletic teams. Your school never invested much of its funds into soccer until recently, largely thanks to Yuta and some of the other members who are in their third or fourth year playing who made a name for your university in the sport. You also suspect that they probably talked the ear off of the provost so that he finally agreed to give them more funding, but that’s just a personal guess.

From your place on the home side of the bleachers, you have total vision of the field. Both teams are running warm-up drills and it’s easy enough to spot the people you know: someone from your physics class named Mingyu, someone you remember from a party named Baekho, and your lower neighbors, Jaehyun, Kun, and, of course, Yuta. His hair is pulled back from his face in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a small version of your university’s lion mascot stands out proudly on his red jersey.

You purposefully make a point to look for him last, only to find that he’s completely focused. Though it’s just shooting drills, he seems like he’s entirely in the zone, his eyes sharp and calculated. From what you can tell. The physical distance between you isn’t huge, but you can’t read his expressions that well from this angle.

The sharp scream of a whistle being blown indicates that there’s five minutes until the start of the game. The teams both do a bit of last minute stretching as they gather around the coach, a man you recognize as a biology professor. Finally, just as the clock hits six, they squeeze closer together, arms slung over each others’ shoulders in a tight circle, and do some sort of indistinct chant that ends in something like “Go Lions!”

After they break away, you can see the shift in atmosphere. Everyone is completely serious. It’s the first game of the season and they aren’t going to destroy the reputation they’ve built up for the last three years. You watch as Jaehyun moves to his position as a midfielder, Kun moves to his position as defense, and Yuta lines up in the position of forward center. A coin flip gives the kick-off to the away team, a school with a hawk mascot. Everyone shifts slightly on their feet and, for a moment, the world seems to be silent. The crowd leans forward in their seats.

Then, the whistle is blown.

The game gets to a roaring start. From how cautiously the other team is playing, they seem to know the reputation of the Lions - a team that shot up out of nowhere and suddenly has one of the best forwards in college soccer. You find yourself grinning as the ball barely makes it past your team’s defensive midfielder Mingyu before it’s in the Lions’ metaphorical hands. Your midfielders carefully juggle the ball between them, passing and passing and passing, before it reaches Jaehyun at center midfield. He does his job quickly and efficiently, making it almost look easy, and the ball meets the half-tip. From there, the ball is stolen by one of the Hawks’ defense at a failed pass to the second striker, Baekho. The ball shoots all the way to midfield.

For a few tense minutes, you watch the players run back and forth across the field, their eyes never leaving the target. The game pauses every so often when the ball gets kicked out of bounds, but it always resumes with just as much vigor. About a quarter of the way through the game, Yuta finally has his breakthrough. Jaehyun lands a kick directly in his direction, giving him the perfect opportunity. The strike is clean and so fast that you would have missed it if your eyes weren’t glued to the movements of the ball. All of the people on your side of the bleachers launch to their feet in roaring cheers as the ball sails past the opponent goalie’s right side and into the net. You’re standing alongside everyone else, your hands cupped around your mouth as you yell in excitement. It’s not often that you see such a well done shot from a college team.

The boil of the crowd’s blood dies down a bit as the game continues, but soars back up whenever something particularly exciting happens. In the third quarter, the Hawks manage to land a goal on your team, but Yuta comes in clutch a few minutes later and scores two easy goals almost one after the other. The final score is deeply satisfying at 3:1.

The opposing team try to be good sports about it, but they’re obviously sulking when they shake your team’s hands. After they break away, they’re all gloriously sweaty, which you’re sure Sowon is excited about. Some of the spectators immediately rush out of the stands and make their way down, friends and significant others of the players, you presume. Part of you wants to go down there and be a part of the excitement. Luckily enough, a distraction comes in the form of some of your other neighbors before you’re forced to make any decisions.

“Hey, Yein, Sowon, Y/N!”

When you turn, you see Johnny and Doyoung approaching. Yein stiffens slightly and you nearly start laughing at your friend’s embarrassed behavior. Sowon greets them first. “Hi, guys.”

“I didn’t know you guys were into soccer?” Johnny asks, his eyes shifting easily from Sowon to you to Yein, where they remain.

“Not really! But Y/N wanted to go today.” In her nervousness, Yein easily exposes you.

“I wasn’t the only one who wanted to go,” you huff, crossing your arms. Doyoung and Johnny exchange a look that makes you want to change the subject. “I guess you guys are here to support some friends?”

“Yup, Yuta, Kun, and Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, looking towards the field, where some of their other friends are already gathered around the star player. “They played really well. It’ll be a good season.”

“I hope so,” Sowon says, also watching.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys from them,” you say, wanting to eject yourself from the conversation before it turns in a different direction. To your displeasure, Johnny is a master of knowing exactly what you don’t want and then doing it anyways. You’ve never really talked to him before, but it seems that he’s similar to Yuta in that way.

“Why don’t we all go say hi?” The tall boy says, grinning. “You guys can tell me how those cookies were, too.”

There is no escape. Now, as you follow them down the bleachers, you reflect Yein in a way. She no longer looks quite as nervous, eagerly chatting with Johnny, while you grow increasingly more fidgety. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to Yuta. You just don’t want to give in to whatever game the two of you silently decided you were playing.

Then again, it is much more fun to play along than it is to outright reject him. Plus, today’s actual game was good. You’ll give him that.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, you join the small crowd surrounding Yuta. If you thought he glowed normally, he absolutely shines now. There’s something about him being in his element at the very top of his game that makes you forget your irritation with him for a moment. In that instant, he’s a star. In that instant, he reminds you of your brother. Then, he spots you and opens his mouth.

“Y/N!” As he calls out to you, the girl he was talking to before you arrived seems perturbed, but he ignores her, pushing his way closer to you. “You actually came.”

You turn your nose up at him slightly. “No one ever said it was for you.”

“Of course not. You and I both know the truth, though.” The wink is nowhere near subtle or sly and you scoff at him. He seems unbothered. “This was your first Lions game, right? Did you enjoy it?”

You nod hesitantly. “I heard you guys were good, but I didn’t know how good. You played a near perfect game.”

The self-satisfied smile drops from his face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?” Tilting your head, you match his somewhat grim face.

“There’s always better plays to make, better places to have been. You know.” He quickly tries to play it off like he’s uninterested rather than deeply bothered. You’re not sure you know what the truth is. You haven’t talked to him nearly enough to know. This is the first hint of something serious that he’s shown you. It almost makes you want to talk to him more to find out.

“Dude, shut up, you’re good.” From the side, Johnny butts in, elbowing his friend. You’re glad for the interruption, as you once again didn’t know what to say. The mood raises, with some of Yuta’s friends reenacting the best parts of the game, joking about his long hair, betting on what next week’s game will look like. A few minutes later, the Lions’ coach shouts for all of the team members to go shower and get changed, so the crowd slowly disperses.

After you’re alone with your roommates, Sowon and Yein can’t help but give you playful shoves as you walk home. Sowon is the first to verbalize her amusement. “I thought you hated him?”

You grumble under your breath, not saying anything in particular.

“You played a near perfect game.” Yein mimics, making your face burn.

“I do not sound like that! Also, I know a good game when I see one and I know when to admit it!” You kick your shoe against the pavement as they giggle at you.

From then on, it seems like you run into Yuta far too often for your own good. Every few days, you bump into him when you’re either about to go run or when you’re coming back from running. When you go with Yein to return Johnny’s cookie container, Yuta is in his apartment, lounging on the sofa and chatting with Jungwoo, your third volleyball neighbor. Once, when you’re studying at the school library because you need a change of scenery from your apartment, he runs into you. That time, you snap at him.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended. “What do you mean? If anything you’re the one stalking me. I come here every Thursday after practice to study.” He huffs. “If you’re talking about when I was in Johnny’s apartment, I was already there before you even arrived. Unless you’re accusing me of being psychic, too.”

Your shoulders slowly lower at the guilt you feel. Cringing slightly, you raise your hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to imply…” You sigh. “Sorry. Can I buy you a coffee or something to apologize?”

Only after Yuta’s mock hurt shifts to a triumphant look do you realize the implications of your words. You’re really on a roll with implications today. He grins. “If you really want to.”

As you pack up your things, Yuta tells the few teammates he had come to study with that he’s going, and you walk out of the library side by side. Luckily, he actually makes for easy conversation and good company. You don’t know why he insists on the flirting and cockiness in your shorter interactions. As you walk to the campus coffee shop, you learn that he’s a studio art major. He learns that you’re a physical therapy major. You learn that he’s taking a statistics class that you had already previously taken - he put it off while you got it done in your first year - and, without thinking, you offer to help him if he needs it. After you order both of your coffees, finding out that he likes a lighter roast, you sit at a table in the shop with him. Silence comes and goes as both of you do some of the studying that you intended to do at the library. Every so often, he asks you a question. Usually, you answer him. You always return with a question of your own. You find out that his favorite of the bands that he used to blast through the floor is One Ok Rock.

“Sorry,” he finally says, appearing genuinely remorseful with the sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t have upstairs neighbors last year. I didn’t know you could hear it through the floor.”

“It’s fine. Sorry I snapped at you back then.”

It’s very strange to be on perfectly good terms with Nakamoto Yuta.

A few days later, when your brother sends you a ticket for the local professional soccer team, the Ravens, you almost feel like you should ask for a second so you can bring Yuta. Figuring it would be too much to ask, you plan to go by yourself, thankful that the game falls on a day the Lions aren’t playing. Plus, you can’t imagine what your roommates would say if you chose to go out of your way to take him with you.

You’ve taken to hanging out with the long-haired center forward, helping him with his math when he needs it and just… generally enjoying his company. That doesn’t mean you’re all sugar and smiles to him - it’s much more fun to mess around a little, make him think that you don’t like him quite as much as you actually do. The only thing you can think of that would personally offend him would be to say you’re going to one of his games and then failing to do so.

On the bus ride over to the stadium where the Ravens are playing, you’re thankful that you don’t recognize anyone from your school. You’re in the team’s colors, silver and forest green, and it would be clear to anyone where you’re going. Only after you get off of the bus do you realize just how many came to watch. The stadium is full, packed to almost capacity. That’s probably why your brother hadn’t gotten you tickets earlier - all of them were taken. He probably gave tickets to the earlier games to your parents. They would have thrown a fit if he had only invited you earlier, even if you are his favorite.

As you make your way to your seat, you remark on how strange it is to see your last name printed on the backs of the shirts of a bunch of strangers. The vibe of the crowd is completely different from that at your school’s field. While college students are excitable and energetic, these spectators are rabid. At any moment, there’s one hundred people yelling, someone trying to start a chant, someone screaming just for the sake of it. The air is buzzing with the anticipation of the crowd.

There’s a moment of sudden thick silence, like the moment before a dam is about to burst, where the crowd is silent. Then, both teams are stepping out onto the field and the stadium explodes. In the middle of the line of the eleven Ravens players, like he’s trying to blend in even though half of the crowd is chanting his name, is your brother. There’s a coin flip and it’s decided that the Ravens will start. He gets into his position, forward center, and the audience takes another breath.

You’re on the edge of your seat. Half of the game you’re standing. There’s a thrill about the experience that makes you so invigorated and proud beyond belief. If it had been strange seeing your last name on the backs of fans’ jerseys, it’s just as weird hearing the announcer say your brother’s name as he scores. If Yuta had been residual starshine, your brother is a shot of pure gold. He has long given up trying to make himself small where he glows the brightest, smiling as the whistle is blown for halftime. His teammates slap each other on the back when they go for water. Just as the game is about to resume, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket once. You figure that whoever is texting you can wait.

The other team makes a comeback in the second half, scoring on the Ravens and tying the score. You feel a bit bad for the goalie, a guy you know as Kim Yongsuk, who your brother had introduced you to in the past. He’s probably beating himself up over it. Still, the team doesn’t falter, doesn’t repeat their mistakes. It’s a hard game - from how close you are, you can almost see everyone breathing hard. Finally, with just a few minutes left to spare, the ball travels smoothly from the Ravens’ defensive line, to the midfielders, to the offense. Once it’s in your brother’s possession, it’s over. He shoots and he scores.

To be fair to the other team, they try to recover, but it’s just not enough. Time is called and it ends 2:1. The Ravens have won. You find yourself clapping and cheering with the other fans, shouting your elation to the huge stadium. As things begin to wind down and the teams shake hands, people begin to trickle out of the stadium. A satisfied hum is in the air, leaving a smile on your face, too. Perhaps soccer games are the reason you like parties, too. The warm, excited atmosphere, the noise, forgetting about the outside world to become absorbed in something else.

Finally, reality calls again after all of the players filter out to their respective locker rooms. You pull out your phone, about to send a text to your brother. However, when your phone comes to life, the first thing you see is a text from Yuta.

NaYu: Are you at the Ravens game??

An instant later, right on cue, you hear his voice. “Y/N!” Upon looking up, he’s bounding down the aisles towards you, also donning forest green and silver. Watching him weave through the rest of the people trying to leave, you wouldn’t be surprised if he would have slid down the railing if there weren’t other people there. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for him to reach you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not?” You tilt your head, smiling slightly. You’re in too good of a mood to outright lie to him.

He blinks. “I thought you hated watching soccer.”

You hold your hands behind your back, swaying playfully. For once, he’s the confused one. “I don’t know what gave you that impression. I really enjoy seeing the Ravens play.”

“But… you said…” He furrows his eyebrows. “Didn’t you say you’ve seen enough soccer games to last your whole life already, or something?” “I changed my mind.” Your phone buzzes in your hand.

B/N: You still in the stands? I’m coming up.

At that, you freeze. Yuta nudges you. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You’ve kept the fact that your brother is the Ravens’ star striker away from everyone, besides your roommates, and you can’t even begin to imagine how Yuta would react if he found how. What would he think of you? “You can head out without me, Yuta. I’m waiting for someone.” The concerned expression doesn’t leave his face. “Are you sure? It’s kind of late-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine, I’m-”

“Y/N!”

You turn just in time to see your brother jumping the gate blocking off the entrance to the field from the stands. Most of the stadium has cleared out by now, ushered out by staff, leaving very few people. Your brother has a hoodie on with his team’s colors, the hood up and partially blocking his face from distant onlookers nonetheless. You cringe internally as he jogs up to you, not seeming tired at all, and you greet him as he engulfs you in a warm hug. “Hi, B/N.”

“I’m glad you could make it. It’s not often that I get to play for my favorite sibling.” You’re looking at your brother, but you’re sure that Yuta has a shocked look on his face as he connects the dots. Now that your brother has directly stated who he is to you, there’s no avoiding it. He looks past you and realizes that you’re not alone. “Who’s this?”

“I…” Now that you’re actually looking at Yuta, you realize he’s entirely starstruck. He looks like he’s stuck in one place, his eyes wider than normal and full of awe.

You take over for him. “This is Yuta. He’s my friend from school and our team’s center forward.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m B/N! Since Y/N finally decided to show her face at her own team’s games, I heard you guys are doing well this year. Go Lions!” He raises a fist, giving Yuta a sunny smile.

Yuta blinks hard, looking almost like he might pass out. “Y-yeah. We’re doing alright, I guess. Thank you for your support.” He reflexively dips into a shallow bow, making your brother chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine.” He elbows you not-so-gently. “Y/N! Tell me next time you want to bring him. I’ll throw in a second ticket.”

Yuta unfreezes a bit and looks at you. “You don’t bring Yein or Sowon?”

You shrug. “I don’t like to bring only one of them. It feels unfair to the other.”

“Still, I’m glad to see that you’re not lying about having at least one friend.” Your brother gives you a wicked grin and heat fills your cheeks.

“I have friends!” You insist, clenching your fists at your side.

“Do you?” Yuta teases, making you press your lips together in a look of indignation.

Before you can counter him, your brother interjects. “I hate to part with the two of you, but I have to leave.” He steps back, waving a hand at the two of you. “See you!” “I hope you stub your toe on the way out!” You shout back at him as he retreats.

“Hey, this toe is worth a lot of money! Love you, too!”

There’s a period of silence as you watch your brother disappear. Yuta clears his throat. “Do you want to go back?”

“Yeah.” You follow him wordlessly for a while, making your way out of the stadium. He walks by your side, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem upset, just a bit shocked still. As you approach the bus stop, you finally speak up. “Did you come with anyone else?”

“Some of the guys from the team. I told them to go ahead without me so I could talk to you.” Of all the things he’s ever said, that makes your heart feel strange. A tiny flutter of a butterfly’s wings, if you will.

Then, as you make it to the bus shelter, you turn to him, grabbing onto the edge of his sleeve. “Yuta, promise you won’t be weird after this?”

He blinks, not fighting your grip. “Why would I be weird?”

“Just… I don’t really tell people about my brother. I don’t want you to think any differently about me because of it.” This level of vulnerability isn’t something you usually show and it feels foreign, unfamiliar. When you told Sowon and Yein about it, it didn’t feel this way. Yet, standing under the shelter with Yuta, his deep green sleeve in your hand, his eyes on yours, the light of the city falling faintly on your faces, you feel your heart pound even harder in your chest.

“I already liked you before I ever knew that.” He reaches up oh so slowly. You don’t know what he’s going to do. Touch your cheek, pat your head, kiss you? Before you can find out, the bus pulls up with a loud exhale, spewing exhaust. The doors open and the driver looks at you expectantly as you turn and get in. Yuta follows you, silent. Both of you pay your dues and sit down, side by side, his sleeve brushing yours.

You know exactly what it is about him that drives you insane. At the same time, you have no idea. While you don’t want things to be different with him after tonight, you also desperately wish for the opposite. You’re tempted to slap yourself in the face to try and wake yourself up from whatever strange dream you’re happening, but you don’t know how the boy next to you would react.

The ride passes excruciatingly slowly, as does the short walk back to your complex. Finally, as you’re standing in the stairwell, about to part ways with him, he speaks. “Do you want to study together tomorrow?”

At that, such a normal suggestion, you smile. “Sure.”

He reflects your expression. It’s a familiar look on him, which you’re grateful for. “I’ll text you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day is entirely ordinary. It’s like the previous night never happened. Yuta is perfectly normal, perfectly flirty, perfectly infuriating. In fact, the entire week after is normal. You go to the Lions game, cheer on your neighbors, and pretend to be difficult with Yuta after the game. He’s always so hard on himself after his games, remarking on what he believes are the many things he could have done differently to play a better game, despite scoring all of the team’s goals and securing wins every time. You hope that you talking to him afterwards raises his spirits just as much as you enjoy it.

Then, one Saturday, you’re out running when Yuta jogs up to you. Once again, he scares the shit out of you, making you nearly trip. “Hey, Y/N.”

You tear out your headphones, giving him a look. “Have you tried not jumpscaring me?”

The shrug he gives you looks strange, as he’s jogging slowly next to you when he attempts to emote. “It’s kind of funny.” You grumble under breath about showing him what’s funny, and he continues. “Do you want to run together on the weekends?”

“This again?” You say, frowning.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re lonely. Since you come out to my games, I thought I should do you some sort of favor in return.”

“I also help you with your statistics homework.”

“Anyways, you’re in luck because I also don’t have a running partner. It’s a lot easier to set a pace and keep moving if you have someone with you.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. When you’re running, you’re at your most vulnerable - sweaty, tired, out of your element. There’s plenty of reasons you shouldn’t want him to run with you. “You have to run so much faster than I do. I would just slow you down.”

“Not really,” he says, looking at your feet as you jog next to him, “see? We’re both doing fine right now.”

You realize that he’s right. You keep moving wordlessly for a minute, until you speak quietly. “Would you really not mind?”

You focus on his hair bouncing as he takes each step for a while before you look at his face. In the morning sunlight, he gives you a pure smile. “Not at all.”

On Saturdays and Sundays, he’s waiting for you just outside of the complex at seven in the morning with his hair tied up to keep it out of his eyes. He easily matches his pace to yours. He’s always much more awake at that hour than you are, but the quiet encouragement he whispers whenever you slow down help perk you up. It takes you a little while to realize that he’s doing something very similar for you to what you do for him after his games.

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning. Usually, you don’t talk a ton while you’re running together, but it seems that his curiosity has gotten the best of him. “What made you want to start running?”

“Hm?” You hum, snapped out of the world that was just your feet thudding against the ground and the sound of your breathing in your ears. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“People usually don’t just randomly start doing it. Maybe they want to get stronger or lose weight. Maybe they want to impress someone.”

“It’s not about impressing anyone. I’m doing this for me.” You say it firmly, confidently. His pace stutters and he watches you continue forward. There’s something in your voice that makes him incapable of moving, and all he can do is stare at you for a moment, his heart speeding up in his chest for reasons other than the running you’re doing. When you realize he isn’t following, you turn towards him, jogging in place. The way your face is illuminated by the sunlight being cast upon it makes him sure he’s never met someone as incredible as you before in his life. “Are you coming?”

You don’t know what’s up with him. His expression is something you’ve never seen but can’t quite place. He catches up in a few bounds and you resume your run.

The next Friday, you receive a strange text.

Unknown Number: Hey, is this Y/N?

You contemplate whether or not you should respond, but you get a second text.

Unknown Number: This is Mingyu from physics

Now, that’s strange. You start to type out a reply.

Y/N: Hi! What’s up?

Kim Mingyu: I was wondering if you could help me with the lab report from last Friday? I’m having some trouble

Y/N: Sure, do you want to meet in the library later?

Meeting up with someone who you’ve never really talked to before is strange. Mingyu tries to joke with you, but something about them falls flat. You try your best to laugh and help him anyways, figuring it’s just stiffness from interacting with someone new. Though it’s nice to finally have a physics buddy, you’re almost relieved when you go home.

As you approach your complex, you see a small group formed on the lawn outside. Sicheng and Ten are standing on one leg, holding the other leg up and trying to knock each other down. A small smile comes to your face when you realize that Yuta is in the group, cheering for his friends. Around the same time you see him, he sees you and his eyes light up. He’s quickly getting to his feet and bounding towards you. Taeyong calls after him with a frown. “Yuta, you’re next!”

Still, he sidles up next to you as you walk closer to the circle. “Y/N! Where are you coming from?”

“Just the library. Actually, I was meeting up with one of your teammates, Mingyu. We were working on physics.”

The smile he wears twitches downwards for a moment. “I didn’t know you had a class with him.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning. I never talked to him before today.” You shrug, shifting the backpack on your shoulders. “What are you guys doing?”

“One-legged fight. You should join.” He suddenly has a sadistic gleam in his eye and you take a tiny step away from him.

“And give you an excuse to push me on the ground? No thanks.”

“Aw, Y/N, I’m hurt. You don’t think I would just push you if I really wanted to?” At his proclamation, you shake your head, trying to force down a smile but failing miserably. “I’m kidding, of course. I would never.”

It’s almost sunset and he looks glorious in the golden light, the sun reflecting off of his dark hair and making his eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheekbones. If you were bolder, you might say something about it. Instead, you let out a snort of laughter, looking away from him. From the circle a few yards away, cheers erupt. Ten is curled on the ground, dramatically bemoaning his loss to Sicheng, who stands proudly over him. Taking that as his cue, Yuta gives you a small wave and rejoins his group.

When you enter your apartment with a small, content smile on your face, Yein looks up from her cooking. “Good day?”

“You could say that.”

The next morning, thankfully, is a Saturday. Yuta is waiting for you, looking just as fine in the morning sun as he did in the evening rays. He’s stretching as you approach him. “It looks like it’ll be good weather for the match today.”

“It better be.” He says it lightheartedly, but you can really imagine him threatening the weather. He’s told you that he hates the rain, partly because it makes it unpleasant to play but also just because it dampens his mood. The team is lucky they’ve gotten good weather for the season so far.

As you’re running, you remember what something you needed to ask Yuta about. “Hey, are you free on Wednesday night? My brother offered me two tickets for his game.”

His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, trying to keep your pace steady. “He said he would pull through, so he did. You made a good impression on him.”

“I am totally free. Completely. Did I tell you how free I am that day?” The child-like excitement in his voice makes you smile in return.

“Wow, with how not free you are, I guess I should invite someone else,” you tease and he lets out an uncharacteristic whine.

“Y/N, I know you’re messing with me, but if you take someone else after asking me, I will never forgive you.”

Now it’s your turn to pretend to be offended. “I see how much our friendship means to you, Mr. Nakamoto.”

He sighs dramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as he acts like he’s going to faint. “You’re so serious.”

You stick out your tongue at him. “You’re such a fanboy.”

“I can’t help it. Your brother is just so cool. I don’t know how you don’t try to hang out with him literally all the time.”

That gives you pause. You feel your feet connect with the earth repeatedly for a minute, thinking about your brother and your complicated but not complicated relationship. You trust Yuta with so many things, so you may as well tell him. “A few weeks ago, when I said I was only doing this for me, I lied. Just a little.” You say, not looking at him. You’ve never really admitted it out loud before. “I want to get good enough to run with my brother. I almost never see him these days, but if I can start getting up to run with him sometimes… it’ll be like when we were kids. Or something. I don’t know.”

“He’s important enough to you that you want to change something about your life to spend more time with him,” Yuta says quietly, keeping pace with you. “I hope he knows how much you care about him.”

“You don’t always need to change to show you love someone. That’s why it was only partly a lie when I said I’m only doing this for myself.” You flash Yuta a smile, which he returns. Though your lungs burn and your legs ache, the air you breathe in is cool and fresh. “I’ll race you back.”

His eyes flash. “Challenge accepted.”

The next time you see Yuta is later that day, at his game. He’s serious, as usual, in the zone. As the season goes on, the bleachers fill up more and more with students eager to see the Lions throw sparks. The games continually get harder, but they manage to clutch this one out with a final score of 3:2.

Despite the win, Yuta still seems somewhat down. Afterwards, you’re about to go up to him to describe the glorious moment when he slid between two of the opponent defenders and scored, but you’re stopped by a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N.” To your surprise, Mingyu is the one approaching you. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“Oh! Mingyu, hi.” You try to smile at him, but your eyes wander over to Yuta briefly. “Good game today! You guys played solidly.”

“Ha, thanks. Could’ve been better on my part, I’m always looking to improve, you know.”

“I get it,” you respond, nodding.

“Are you possibly free on Wednesday night? We have a lab due on Friday and I just think it would be easier to do if we can work together, ya know?”

“Oh, um, I’m actually busy then.” You force yourself to not look at Yuta. “Does Thursday night work instead?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you then.” The way he squeezes your shoulder once before stepping away to talk to some of his own friends makes your stomach turn. Why is he being so… weird?

Shaking your head, you turn back to who you had intended to greet in the first place, only to find that he had been looking at you already. What’s with the look in his eyes? Why is everyone being so weird? Ignoring the feeling, you join his circle. Yuta moves closer to your side, his arm looping around your waist as he does so, pulling you in slightly. The touch is brief but intimate, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. You swear that you can almost feel the heat of his skin through your clothes. Then, his arm is back at his side like nothing happened. You want to speak up, say what you were planning on saying before, get your mind back on a normal track, but you find that Johnny, Ten, and Jungwoo are already recreating the scene, making Yuta smile through the veil of whatever emotions he’s experiencing right now.

When the entire team heads over to the locker rooms to clean off the shine of sweat and dirt that had been accumulated through the game, you can’t help watching him. As he goes, you catch flashes of his smile while he congratulates his teammates. Something stirs in your heart.

That night, you dream of healing smiles dressed in a lion’s mane of black hair. That same visage is waiting for you the next morning when you go out to run but, here outside of your head, he’s solid, real, more than heated touches and soft caresses. At the same time, he is those things. Or, so you wish him to be.

When you study with him the next night, he is as he usually is, theoretically. Sometimes it feels like his eyes linger longer than usual, his hand rests a little closer, he smiles a little wider. It’s nothing you can confirm because, to any normal gaze, he seems entirely the same. Perhaps you’re confusing yourself into imagining things. Has his flirtatious nature finally tricked your brain into thinking he likes you?

Sometime that evening, you go to the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror. You pat your face rather harshly to try and drive some sense back into your brain. You should tell him. This new boy who has become so close to you. Why are you afraid of it going wrong? You emerge from the bathroom with the same feelings that you entered it with and, there he is, looking up at your return.

The next day, Tuesday is a brief reprieve from the torture of trying to figure out his feelings through his actions. Then, your brother’s game comes. Your chatter fills the space between you on the bus ride to the stadium, him telling you about the anime he’s watching, you talking about the drama you’re watching in response. He jokes about culturing you by getting you to watch a show with him.

Watching your brother’s game with Yuta at your side is an entirely different experience. While you think you normally have pretty good commentary on your own, he provides an extra edge, excitedly explaining why some players choose to do some things or making observations about small moves that you ordinarily wouldn’t notice. Both of you absorb the atmosphere of the stadium, bursting into cheers whenever something incredible happens, screaming extra loud when your brother scores.

During halftime, when the roar of the audience is less deafening, you realize that you’ve never asked Yuta about his background with soccer before. You nudge him. “Hey, Yuta? How long have you been playing?”

He taps his chin, trying to think back. “Probably since I was five?”

“No wonder you know so much,” you say, “I’m talking to an expert right now.”

“You know too much for just a casual viewer,” he says back, snorting, “don’t tell me you don’t have some experience.”

“I only played a bit when I was younger, but I wasn’t any good. It was always more fun to watch B/N. I ended up just taking care of him whenever he pulled something or fell and scraped his arm… you know.” A wistful smile forms on your face. “It started off as just kissing bruises like my mom would, but then it turned into intense Googling whenever I couldn’t immediately figure out what was wrong with him.”

“Maybe you can kiss my boo-boos whenever I get hurt, too, then.” He’s smirking, the ever-familiar gleam of mischief in his gaze.

You force yourself to roll your eyes at him, ignoring the feeling of your heart jumping in your chest. “You’d better not get hurt, Nakamoto.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

A few minutes later, the game resumes. This matchup is considerably more difficult than the game you had attended before. Each time the Ravens seem like they’re close to scoring, the opponent defense sends it back towards your end of the field or the goalie successfully blocks it. All the same, your defense and goalie do their jobs, too, leading to a brutal back and forth. By the time the game is over, the only goal that had been scored was the single one your brother got in the first half.

“Ah, that was tense. They almost took it back there for a second.” You stand, stretching your arms behind your back to loosen them up a bit. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yuta gets up as well, following you as you begin to climb the stairs. “Is your brother not coming to see you this time?”

“He told me he has some press deal after this.” Once you’re in a more open area, Yuta walks next to you instead of behind. You can now see that he’s frowning.

“Does he keep you a secret on purpose?”

“I asked him to.”

“I can’t imagine keeping someone like you hidden like that.” At that strange comment, you stop, looking at him. He seems to be taking the issue very personally.

“It’s easier this way. No one prying into my life, no one asking me for autographs from him all the time. People know who our parents are. What’s so important about an unknown sister?” Is there something else he wants you to say? The look on his face is something you’ve only seen maybe once or twice. He’s in a strange mood, that’s for sure.

“I get it, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Yuta.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s important to me that what people think about me is what I show them first. I don’t want to be a reflection of my brother, no matter how much I love him.”

“Is he the reason you didn’t want to talk to me at first?” There’s amusement in Yuta’s voice again, that strange seriousness gone.

You start to walk again and he keeps pace. “No, that was just because you woke me up at six in the morning.”

“I guess both of us have experiences that precede our reputations then, huh?”

The bus comes not much later. The previous reminder of how you met has him offering you one side of his earbuds, saying that this would be a better introduction to J-rock than the one you had before. As you listen, you’re tempted to lean your head against his shoulder or take his hand, which is resting oh so close to yours. Instead, you just sit still and look out the window.

After you get off of the bus, the topic of shows you both like makes a return.

“I will take it upon myself to expose you to great art. Are you free tomorrow? We have to start immediately.” Yuta begins to pester you, practically bouncing as you walk.

“Actually, I’m busy tomorrow. I’m working on physics with Mingyu again.” He doesn’t initially not react to your first statement. However, when his teammate’s name comes out of your mouth, he frowns.

“Of anyone…” The sudden change in his attitude catches you off guard. “Why him?”

“I don’t choose who’s in my classes. What’s wrong with you? I thought you got along with your teammates.” You’re nearing your complex at this point. The lamp posts bordering the sidewalk cast long shadows on the ground as you walk.

“In a team context, they’re fine. Usually. Just, that guy…” He’s scowling now, making you frown deeply in return.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know, Y/N.” He pauses, but then his feet stop moving a moment later. “Fuck it, I do know. He’s not a good person. He’s a manipulator. He’s a good manipulator, but he’s bad at lying when you actually confront him-”

“Yuta, you’re being ridiculous. Even if he is, I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he was with me at that first game! The one where I found out about your brother? What if he saw? He’s the type to use information like that to get what he wants. What if he-”

“What if he what, Yuta?” You glare at him, anger muddled with some other hurt now filling you. “He hasn’t done anything. He isn’t going to do anything. Our ‘secret’ isn’t going to get out. I can take care of myself.”

With that, you brush past him, into the complex, into your apartment. Thankfully, your roommates aren’t in the common area, so you safely make it to your room. Once you’re there, you shove your face into your pillow. You consider screaming into it, but you know he’s probably in his own room, where he could hear you. Instead, you just heave breath after frustrated breath.

You don’t know why you snapped at him. Actually, you do. It’s the fear that he’s actually doing what he accused Mingyu of. After every word you’ve exchanged, every conversation, you should be confident that he’s not like that. But, you’ve never been in this situation before. What if he…

It’s a stupid notion and you know it. That’s just the surface. Another layer of your feelings peels away. You hate when people are too protective of you. You want to make your own decisions, to learn for yourself. You hate when your brother is too protective of you and you hate when Yuta is.

That’s not even all of it. Finally, you reach the root of your aggression. What right does Nakamoto Yuta have to try and be protective of you when you aren’t even together? Was that the concern of a friend or the concern of a jealous lover?

You curl in on yourself even more tightly, breathing through the pillow under your face. No one has ever flirted with you as much as he has. You’ve never been so ridiculously on and off with someone before. Still, neither of you are willing to answer the question. You’ve never actually fought like this with him before.

Perhaps he hates you now that you’ve thrown his warnings back in his face.

The next day, after your classes, you force yourself to go to the library to meet Mingyu, Yuta’s words heavy in your mind. As you work, you can tell he’s still trying desperately to get on your good side, even emanating Yuta in a strange, off-balance way. It’s not amusing when he does it.

Finally, the subject you’ve been dreading comes.

“Are you a fan of the Ravens? I think I saw you at one of their games once.”

You swallow back disappointment. Mingyu is the worst fear of your insecure self and you finally have to come face to face with it. “I guess you could say that.”

To your surprise, he doesn’t take it farther than that. If Yuta’s right about him, then it’s probably just one piece of a larger goal. Though you never cared much for Mingyu, it doesn’t feel good to see things begin to unfold.

Not seeing him for two days in a row brings your mood down more than you’d like to admit. At the same time, you’re not ready to apologize yet. You don’t know what exactly is happening on his end, you never know, so when you go outside to run at your normal time on Saturday, you half expect him to be there.

He isn’t. And you don’t run into him on your way back, either. The game it is, then.

As the day progresses, the sky gets increasingly cloudy. In the evening, when the Lions and their opponent team are out on the field running final drills, it’s easy enough to tell that a good number of people had looked at the forecast - the crowd in the bleachers is much thinner than usual. The sky could open up and pour its soul out onto all of you at any moment.

You don’t even bother pretending that you’re not watching Yuta. As he steps off the field for their usual pre-game pep talk and chant, you swear he makes eye contact with you. Normally, he wouldn’t even bother looking, because he’s usually confident that you’re there. You’re not sure what the look in his eyes is now.

The coin toss decides that the other team will start with the ball. That might have been the first omen about the game. Then again, maybe the other team is just… better. Their defense is at least tighter than yours. At halftime, they have a point up on the Lions, 0:1. Yuta seems to take this very, very personally. Within ten minutes of the game restarting, they tie the score back up.

At about three quarters of the way through, it begins to rain. The referee deems that they’ve played far to stop, so the match continues. Almost like they take the poor weather as a sign, the rival team scores nearly immediately after.

You pathetically huddle under a single umbrella with Sowon while Yein shares one with Johnny. The ball slips rather than flies around the field, back and forth, back and forth, until, finally, with barely any time to spare, it’s at Yuta’s feet. The world seems to move in slow motion, then. His right foot moves backwards. It swings forwards. He makes contact.

He misses.

You try not to gasp. Yuta himself seems to be in shock, with how he goes stiff for a moment. Then, he’s back in action, targeting where the goalie had thrown the ball. This time, it’s not enough. A minute later, after another brutal back and forth, the scream of the whistle soars above the sound of the rain. It’s over. The Lions have met their first loss of the season.

The two teams barely wait around to shake hands before they’re rushing off to the locker rooms, away from the rain. Yuta moves slower than the rest, seeming to drag his feet through the muddying grass. Ahead of him, all of his teammates are moving quickly, but moping nonetheless. From your position, you see Mingyu kick the shins of someone you recognize to be one of the younger players. You see Kun’s mouth move as he tells him off, but they’re far enough away and the rain is loud enough that you can’t hear. If you hadn’t been displeased already, you are now.

Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right?

“You guys can go back,” you say, taking a step out from under the umbrella after you’re out of the bleachers with your friends. When Sowon tries to shove her umbrella in your hands, you push it back. “I’ll be fine! It’s only a short distance.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry.” With a sigh, she turns, reluctantly walking back behind Yein and Johnny.

You take off running, trying to outpace the raindrops pelting you. By the time you make it beneath the slight sheltered roof of the locker room building, you’re damp, but not entirely soaked. It’s enough to be an annoyance, your clothes sticking slightly to your skin.

You wait outside for a good few minutes. Small groups of players from either team leave, the opponent players giving you strange looks as you lean against the wall and shiver, Baekho and his group giving you an awkward acknowledgement, and, finally, Mingyu emerges.

“Y/N?” He seems confused, but somewhat excited. As if you’re there to meet him.

“Mingyu. Answer one question for me.” You say it wearily, expressing it like the chore it is.

“What are you acting so weird for?” The excitement you glimpsed before dies.

“Were you going to use me to get in good with my brother?”

The rain is the only sound you hear for a couple solid heartbeats. “Y/N, listen…”

“He was right…” You grumble to yourself. You glare up at him. “You can do your physics labs by yourself. Delete my number.”

He stands before you for a moment more before he realizes that you’re serious. He turns and walks away, into the haze of the downpour. A minute later, Jaehyun and Kun emerge from the building.

“Oh, Y/N,” Jaehyun says, seeming surprised. “Are you waiting for Yuta?”

“Is it that obvious?”

The two of them exchange looks and smile. Kun speaks next. “He’s probably not coming out for a while. He usually gets all depressed when we lose a game, but I’ve never seen it this bad. He’s been standing in the shower for like fifteen minutes.”

You glance at the door. Jaehyun nudges you. “He’s the only one left in there. I wouldn’t tell anyone if you, say, went in right now.”

“A bonafide cupid right here,” Kun says, swinging the bag he has slung over his shoulder around so he can dig through it. He produces something, offering it to you. “Here.”

“What is…” You trail off as you take it from him, your face warming as you realize exactly what it is. “Kun, what is this?!”

“I don’t want any miniature versions of him running around. I’m always prepared.” You stare at Kun incredulously a beat longer before you shove the condom in your damp pocket.

“Good luck!” Jaehyun calls back to you as they begin to walk off, leaving you standing under the overhang. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and walk inside.

Unsurprisingly, the place has a somewhat sweaty smell to it. The rows of lockers are labeled with names and a little image depicting the sport the owner plays, as all of the school’s teams use the same locker room, and the occasional miscellaneous socks, gloves, and other things are scattered about. A row of sinks is against one wall and past the sinks is an entrance into the shower area. You make your way there.

As you get closer, the distinct sound of one shower running gets louder. The only curtain that’s closed is a middle stall, all of the others open and empty. Parallel to the shower stalls is a long wooden bench. “Yuta?” You call out. He doesn’t respond, so you try again. “Yuta?”

“Go away.” This time, the response is sharp and harsh. He certainly is in a mood.

“Yuta, it’s me.”

“Y/N?” His voice is significantly less negative now. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you.”

You can barely hear him sigh over the sound of the shower running. “You couldn’t wait until after I was done?”

“No.” When you say that, the water shuts off. A hand sneaks out to grab the towel hanging from a hook affixed to the partition between the stalls. You don’t see anything revealing, but you look away anyways. The scraping of the rings being drawn back tells you he has emerged from the stall.

“You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” You look back, greeted with the sight of his gloriously wet hair and bare torso. He emerged quickly enough that he didn’t have time to dry much of the water dripping off of him. The only part of his body that’s covered is his waist and thighs, though the towel still reveals a tantalizing v-line. You forcibly swallow your thirst.

“Blatantly checking me out again? I get it, but would it kill you to be less obvious?” The comment throws you back to a simpler time, when you were just irritated with him for his cockiness and blasting music through the floor.

“Speak for yourself.” You cross your arms. It was obvious enough that he was enjoying the sight of you in a wet t-shirt and shorts.

“Why didn’t you wear something warmer?” He says, frowning. He steps closer, leaving little space between you.

“I didn’t think it would cool down this much.” You look away, not able to face his bare chest quite yet. The room still has a certain steam about it from the hot shower he was taking that makes it a little harder to breathe. Then again, maybe that’s just him being mostly naked in front of you. He reaches out, touching the hem of your shirt.

“You’re soaked,” he says, rubbing your shirt between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re just making me wetter.” Your face burns something fierce as you say it, contrasting the chill that had settled over your skin from standing outside. “You would think you’d dry yourself off more before getting out of the shower.”

“I was just eager to see you, I guess.” You finally have the courage to meet his eyes again.

“I missed you this morning.” You almost pout while saying it, feeling small under his gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable smallness, but one that makes you feel closer to him.

“I figured you didn’t want to see me.” He reaches out, brushing his fingers softly over the side of your face. His touch is blissfully warm. “Or, I think that you did want to see me, but you would only be angrier if I showed up.”

The thought almost makes you laugh. It would be one of the few times he’s been wrong about your feelings. But, if he always knows so much… “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I talked to Mingyu a few minutes ago and you were right. I should have trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you handle it on your own.” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “You’re strong enough to deal with assholes like him. You don’t need me.”

“I might not need you, but I do want to keep you around.” The small confession has your bottom lip quivering. “Did I mess up your game today?”

“It was mostly the rain.” He sounds so nonchalant, but you can tell he’s still bothered. “Not you. But, if you do feel bad about it, Miss Physical Therapy, there is something you can do for me.”

His eyes have shifted away from their darkness into a different sort of moodiness. You step closer. “What is it?”

He moves back, taking a heavy seat on the bench. “I’m quite tense. Give me a massage.” His eyes bore into yours. “If you so choose.”

You step behind him. The thrill of what you feel like he’s implying thrums in your veins. The muscles of his shoulders and back are hard under your fingers, showing years of training and toning. You’re almost surprised at how well built his upper body is for a soccer player. His skin is beyond perfect too, and the little droplets of water from his steamy shower that settle on his skin glisten temptingly in the low light of the locker room.

“Sorry my hands are cold,” you practically whisper.

“It’s fine. Feels nice.” He wasn’t lying when he said he was tense - you can feel the knots leaving his muscles as you press down on them, dissolving into smooth flesh that’s soft to the touch. As you work along his back, one particularly tough knot has your thumbs pressing harder into him, drawing a low groan and a curse from his throat. “Fuck.”

The sound turns you on more than you’d like to admit. As you finish his back, you become even more hyper aware of the little noises he’s letting out, the space between you becoming noticeably warmer. Slowly, reluctantly, your hands leave his skin and you circle back towards his front, not quite wanting to look him in the eye. “Is that better?”

“Much.” The air feels heavy. “But you’re not done, yet.” Ordinarily, he’d be smirking so hard you’d be able to hear it in his voice, but there’s only a low command to his tone now. He reaches out, guiding your dominant hand forward so that it’s resting on the front of his shoulder. There’s no hiding from his eyes now. You decide then - if you’re going to do this, you might as well go all out. Sliding onto his lap, your knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of him, makes you feel both powerful and small at the same time. His face is only a breath away from your own. You swear you can see his eyes flicker to your lips. Trying to play innocent, despite the fact that you can basically feel his dick hardening under his thin towel, you shift slightly, putting your focus on his shoulder and pectoral muscles. Every so often, you readjust yourself, purposefully bouncing slightly on his lap, almost grinding down on him. He doesn’t crack, remaining still and keeping his expression flat. The only signs he gives of being aroused are the slight shiver to his breath and the prominent bulge you’re now certain you can feel. That, and the hands he has on your body, one on your hip and one on your thigh, fixing you in place.

The process is slow, arduous, but you eventually finish with his pectoral and shoulder muscles. You pull your hands away, placing them in your lap and then sitting back, unmoving on his lap, reveling in the way you’ve very clearly made him feel. “Is that all?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips again before boring into your own. “You missed one spot.” Wordlessly, he reaches up, tapping his own lips.

You could walk away right now. His hands aren’t so tight on your body that you couldn’t just get up and leave, go back to your apartment and forget this ever happened. But why would you want to? You’ve been dreaming of his lips for weeks. Finally, you’re about to get a taste. Still, there’s an edge of apprehension digging slightly in your gut.

You’ve sat in silence for long enough that he’s opening his mouth, an apology about to leave his lips, when you swoop forward, pressing your lips to his.

Where he had given you the choice to initiate, he’s the one who really leads. He almost instantly deepens the kiss, dragging you even farther up his lap, pressing you hard against his barely-shielded dick. You feel his fingertips against your skin, under the hem of your top.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, but-” Where his hands had stilled under your shirt they begin to move again. “Yuta, wait.” He freezes once more, looking up at you. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you see a little bit of fear in his eyes. A shaky breath leaves your lips. “I won’t fuck you unless you tell me you actually have feelings for me. Did you mean what you said back then? After the games?”

“Is that a requirement for all the guys you sleep with or am I special?” You can feel his cock throbbing under you and your own insides ache in response. Of course, he’s delaying what both of you want by being coy. The frustration building up in your gut and in your heart makes you feel like you’re going insane.

“Yuta…” You mean it to sound admonishing, but your tone is more akin to a whine as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. His breath stutters slightly in his lungs at the motion, but in that moment, a sort of gentleness you’ve rarely seen takes over his facade.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he breathes out, eyes locked with yours, “how could I not have feelings for you?”

You kiss him, sweetly, desperately. His hands begin to move once more, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your skin. When his hands make it to the edge of your shirt, giving you a suggestion, you cover them with your own, guiding him to take it off. As soon as the garment is out of the way, his lips are on your neck, your collar, the soft skin of your chest. He can feel the hum of your voice through your breast as you speak. “I really like you, Yuta. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else.”

His fingers nimbly unclasp your bra and it falls to the ground somewhere. As his touch ghosts over your breasts, you arch into his hand, drawing a warm chuckle from him. “That’s good,” he says, thumbing slow circles over your nipples, “because I feel the same way about you.”

You pull him back to your mouth, pulling him as close as you possibly can, breathing him like he’s air, tasting him like he’s food. His tongue is slick against your bottom lip, against your own tongue. Almost unconsciously, you rock your hips against his bulge as you move. Impatiently, he tugs at your shorts, pulling you out of the kiss.

“These have to come off.”

“It would kill you to go slow for once,” you laugh, getting off of his lap on shaky legs.

“I go slow for you all the time,” he responds, shifting the towel at his waist, which you realize is barely holding onto him from all the grinding you were doing on his lap, “I’ve been going slow for months now. Isn’t it time to speed things up?”

You roll your eyes, but shimmy out of your shorts, leaving you in your panties and him in his towel. From this angle, he can truly appreciate you. Every curve, every beauty mark, every fold and crease on your body. He leans back, his hands bracing him against the bench. Then, he shifts forward abruptly, taking the opportunity to snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin.

“Yuta!” The cry is half an admonition, half a laugh. You move to push his shoulder gently and he catches you by the hand, pulling you on top of him and kissing you once again. Before you realize it, he has a sneaky hand slipping into your panties, touching you where you’re most sensitive, making you jolt against his hand.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs the words against your lips and you nod, trying to focus on kissing him through the pleasure of his fingers. It’s been far too long since anyone has touched you like this and you’re not used to it.

“Mm,” you moan back, “more than okay.”

He had said he wanted to go faster, but it seems like he’s just going so slow, making you fall apart on his hand, first with just a thumb on your clit, then two fingers pushed more deeply inside of you than you could ever reach yourself. At some point, you’re no longer kissing him and your cheek is pressed to his instead. You nip at his ear, which you now realize is pierced, and the damp spikeyness of his hair rests against your temple.

His free hand rests over your breast, rhythmically squeezing it as you ride his fingers. Oddly enough, you feel like he predicts your climax before even you do, working you carefully through the release of pleasure as you shudder against him and clench around his fingers. Before you can fully regain your senses, he’s kissing you again and removing his hand, wiping his sticky digits against the towel slipping from his waist. You figure you’ll finish the job, reaching down to untwist the cloth so that it falls open against the bench.

You continue kissing him as you take his dick in your hand, your thumb sliding over the precum beading at his tip. It’s his turn to shiver, his cock twitching in your hand. Giving it slow, purposeful jerks, you watch him become perfectly uncomposed under you and you grin, leaning closer to press a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He’s stiff, but remarkably soft to the touch, veiny and thick enough that your mouth waters. A couple minutes pass before he’s encasing your hand in his own, slowing your movement.

“I don’t want to come in your hand.” You stop, looking at him with faux-innocent eyes. He blinks desperately at you. “Please.”

“Can I suck you off later?” The words leave your mouth unexpectedly. You hadn’t even really been thinking about the later, but you figure you’re safe to assume that there will be one.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He strokes your hair and you can just think about him holding it back in the future as he-

Trying to distract yourself from the later and focus on the now, you slide off of his lap once again. He almost seems confused, made lonelier by the tiniest distance you put between the two of you. It’s almost a funny image, him half pouting at you while his dick is out, standing up against his abdomen and completely exposed. You let out the smallest exhale of a laugh. “You showed me yours, so I figured I would show you mine.” Your panties fall to the ground, where you kick them in the general direction of the rest of your clothes. The sight of your shorts reminds you of another important thing. “Oh! Also!”

You scramble over to them, reaching into the pocket and producing the little foil packet. Yuta stares at you. “You’re… prepared? I didn’t even think this far ahead and half the time my brain is controlled by my-”

“Kun gave it to me before I came in here,” you say, waltzing back over to him. He takes the packet from your hand, tearing it open. You… give him a hand as he rolls it on. “He’s awfully ready for a great many situations, isn’t he?”

“I think he was expecting this to happen a lot earlier than it actually did, honestly,” Yuta responds, pulling you back on top of him for the third time. Once again, your knees rest on the hard wood bench. “Can we not talk about my roommate, please?”

“I can agree to that.” You smile, kissing him. “Can we talk about how much I like you instead?”

“We can always talk about that,” he says, one hand on his dick, one on your hip, “are you ready?”

The mood dips, making your body shiver in anticipation again. “Yes.”

The way he positions his cock and begins to push into you makes both of you let out noises of relief, a groan from him and a sigh from you. You sink down onto him further until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, hard and pulsing and ungodly warm. He gives an experimental buck of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips and shaping his into a cocky smirk. “Already feel that good?”

“Shut up,” the complaint dies in your throat as you lift yourself up on your knees and sink back down again, bouncing on his lap slightly. You focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation of him hitting your G-spot, the touch of his fingers on your clit again. His breath mingles with yours whenever he takes a break from kissing you. Your hands wander the smooth planes of his chest, your thumb briefly ghosting over his nipple, your palms getting sweatier as you hold onto him. It’s not long before you let your head fall back, your thighs tense as you hold onto his shoulders and move up and down on top of his cock.

His lips are hot as he mouths your neck. You’re not usually the type for marking, but, honestly, the thought of wearing his hickey on your skin sounds beyond appealing. He introduces the slightest bit of teeth, grazing them over your pulse as you ride him. The trail of tiny nips goes down past your collarbones to your breast. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and the desperation of chasing your orgasm makes the passage of time feel fuzzy, but in the sweet, bubbly way a soda does rather than the heavy, blurry way a cold would.

“Yuta,” you whine, the knocking of your legs against the bench growing painful, “can you…”

“I got you, baby.” With a grunt, he stands, lifting you by the thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. A breath later, your back is pressed to the wall and he’s pushing into you once again. The new angle is a change, and it’s a good change. Every one of his thrusts hits exactly right, pushing you further and further until-

“Yuta, you’re gonna make me...” you pant against his mouth, breathing the same air as him. At some point, after he had picked you up, you had reconnected your lips, and he swallows the little noises you let out hungrily. You clench and unclench your fists behind his back, as your arms are slung over his shoulders.

“Mm, good. That’s my girl.”

All you can think as he pounds into you is Yuta, Yuta, Yuta. You come undone with a final swipe of his thumb and a choked cry of his name. Once your own orgasm has stopped burning quite so bright, lowering to a comfortable simmer in your gut, his hips slow with each thrust until he pushes into you and stays there. You can feel him throb inside of you even through the condom.

Your skin feels like it’s glowing in the aftermath of his love, warm like coals after a fire has just ceased to burn. Warm with the promise of more flames in the future. You lean your face in the junction of his shoulder and neck, breathing love onto his skin. His deep, uneven breaths slow over time as he presses gentle kisses to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. The silence between you is only interrupted by the ambient sound of water flowing through pipes hidden in the concrete walls of the shower part of the locker room. That’s enough of a reminder for you to groan, clutching onto him tighter. “I can’t believe we just confessed and fucked in your sweaty locker room.”

“From my perspective, it’s more ‘wow, I can’t believe we finally confessed and fucked, even if it was in my sweaty locker room.’” That, at the very least, makes you smile. Slowly, he begins to pull out, separating from you with a sticky, wet sound. He backs up, turning so that he can place you gently on the towel still lying on the bench. He disposes of the used rubber quickly, throwing it in a trash can at one end of the room.

Now that he’s no longer touching you, it feels so much colder. “I feel bad for whoever has to clean this place. I hope they don’t find that.”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He makes his way back to you, naked body still on full, glorious display for your eyes only. “Wanna shower while we’re here?”

You groan. “Yuta, I’m tired. No funny business.”

“Who said anything about any ‘funny business?’ I just suggested we clean off the sweat from all that physical exertion.” He’s smirking, not even pretending to be innocent.

“You’re insatiable.” Still you get up, joining him in the shower stall that he holds open for you. If any follow up activity happens while you’re in there, the only way anyone on the outside would be able to tell would be from the quiet sounds that are mostly drowned out by the noise of the shower.

As you finally redress, accepting the hoodie that Yuta had in his locker so that you don’t have to put your wet shirt back on, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, like he’s afraid you’ll go away. The environment between you feels different, but the same. After you’re both fully dressed and start walking out the door, you reach out to take his hand. He accepts the action, interlocking his fingers with yours. Both of you stop under the overhang of the building. By now, the sun has set and a few street lights shine along the walkways of the campus through the haze of rain. “Yuta, are you my boyfriend?”

He blinks a couple times. “Wasn’t that implied?”

You turn away, suddenly shy. “I mean… I just… wanted to clarify…”

“You’re too good for me.” He laughs, then kisses your cheek. Both of you stare out of the rain, as if it’s going to suddenly stop just because you’re politely waiting for it. “I meant it. Every time.”

“Hm?”

“Every time I said I liked you, or that you’re amazing. I was just afraid of- I don’t know. That I’m not honest enough or nice enough, or even good enough at soccer. I just-” He seems so tired as he says it, so brutally truthful, so terribly self-doubting.

You squeeze his hand. “Yuta, it’s okay. Honestly, all this time, I thought you’re too good for me. You’re so much more than the things you say you are. You’re a star.”

“I’m not. I can be an asshole, and jealous, and not serious even when I should be-”

“Yuta, if you like me despite all of my ridiculous bad qualities, I’m pretty sure I can deal with a little jealousy. You’ve shown me who you are and I still like you. You’re loyal and funny and romantic and so many other things. I like you.”

He sighs sweetly, like he was holding in a breath for so long and is finally letting it out. He’s holding your hand so tightly, it feels like he might never let go. Right now, you think you might be okay with that. “Sorry. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

You peer into others’ eyes for a long time, content to just look. Then, the cold finally gets to your legs and you shiver, scooching slightly closer to him. You look out. The rain isn’t getting any better. “Do you want to run? To make up for us not going together this morning?”

He doesn’t even respond. He just glances at you, winks, and tugs at your hand, starting to go. The rain pelts you as you go, utterly soaking you, getting in your shoes, darkening your borrowed hoodie. His hair sticks to his forehead, making him look a bit like a wet kitten. Maybe a lion, more accurately. Still, in the passing lights and the sheen of the rain, he glows.

“Yuta?” You say between shallow breaths.

“Yeah?” He keeps going, keeps tugging you along. You have to work to keep up with him, pumping your legs hard.

“Do you want to go professional?”

He looks back at you quickly, but then turns forward. “I would.”

“I really think you could do it!”

Then he’s laughing, truly, mirthfully. “That’s the second best thing you’ve said to me today!”

At that, you’re laughing too, though it slows your pace, though it makes your lungs burn, though it helps rain water run into your mouth. When you make it to your complex, soaked through, looking like you just took a swim in your clothes, you don’t want to let go. Reluctantly, both of you part ways to change clothes in your respective apartments with the promise to meet soon and start Yuta’s effort to culture you with anime.

Sowon and Yein tease you relentlessly, both when you enter your apartment leaving puddles on the ground and when you leave again ten minutes later completely dry. They tease you for the next week whenever they catch you leaving if they know you don’t have classes. The next Friday, you end up staying up far too late watching one of Yuta’s shows, which you admit are at the very least fun, and you fall asleep in his bed. You’re sure you’ll never hear the end of it from your roommates, even if Yein has been staying in the volleyball boys’ apartment every other day for the last month.

In the morning, a mere three hours after you and Yuta went to sleep, you wake up in his arms to a strange blaring of J-rock. He reaches over you to slap his phone and shut it off. You stay awake just long enough to comment on how strange it is hearing the music next to you and not through the floor.

When you wake up around noon to Yuta staring at you, his bangs half covering his eyes, you flip over, checking the time so that he can’t see the absolutely embarrassed look on your face. “You’re so weird.” “Why are you being all shy? I’ve seen you naked. There’s nothing more to see.”

“There’s plenty more of me to see, thank you very much, Nakamoto Yuta.”

“I know there is, darling.” His arm is still slung over your torso like it was when the alarm went off and he tries to wrestle you back around to face him. You squirm in his hold.

“Darling? You’re so weird. Why are you so weird?”

“Weird? I thought I was romantic and funny and-”

“And weird!” You wiggle more until he flips you onto your back, straddles you, and pins your hands to the bed. It’s quite an incredible sight, him pinning you down with his raven hair a complete mess and no shirt, where you can faintly see marks that you may or may not have left on his chest earlier in the week. “No fair. Home ground advantage.”

He leans in, looking ever so charming despite his disheveled appearance. “You know what makes for great morning exercise?”

“You’re weird and a horndog and-”

“Running! Let’s go.” He suddenly rises up, taking one of your hands with him and pulling you into a sitting position.

“Yuta, it’s noon! There are going to be people out everywhere.” He tugs on your hand and you move so that you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “And it’s Saturday, so there’s going to be even more people…”

“You don’t need to worry about people judging you. If anyone gives you any funny looks, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Punt a soccer ball at their heads?” You’re standing now, looking at him uncertainly.

He shrugs. “Sure. But, seriously. I promise that you have nothing to be self conscious about. You also have me. That part most importantly.” You would smack him if the smile he gives you doesn’t have you reluctantly agreeing.

He’s right, of course. The run is completely fine. At least, you’re distracted enough by your boyfriend for it to be fine. When you return, you split off to take showers in your apartments. After you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around your body, you find him waiting in your room. You register him saying something about the tables turning and “great afternoon exercise” before he practically pounces on you.

Afterwards, through your sex-high haze, you hear a loud knocking on your front door. Groaning, you move only so much as to press your face into Yuta’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna get up…”

“Did I make you feel that good?” His voice is a warm rumble, teasing, though full of the same tiredness that yours has. You’re about to jab him lightly in the side when his hand shifts down, two of his fingers running through your folds. Shivering at the suggestion, you wiggle closer to him, hiding your face even more.

“Let me rest, you sex-fiend.” Before he can reply, there’s a few more insistent knocks at your door. “Ugh…”

“Were you expecting someone?” You shake your head against him. He reaches over and grabs your phone. “I heard this going off earlier while we were busy.” You make no move to take it from him, so he turns it on, his eyes scanning the recent chain of texts you’d just received. “It’s your brother.”

You immediately bolt straight up. “What?” Your mind ticks back to the previous day before you’re scrambling out of bed. “Shit, shit, shit, I forgot he was coming today!” As quickly as you can, you try to throw on the various items of clothing that had gotten scattered around the room in your - Yuta’s, more accurately - haste to move them off of the bed, where you had laid them out for after your shower.

Yuta stretches lazily. “Glad I could remind you.”

“Asshole, get clothes on! He’ll kill you if he figures out what we did!”

“Ah, to be killed by L/N B/N. You say ‘what we did’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“He’s my older brother, for God’s sake!” You throw a shirt at him, smacking him in the face. “He will murder you! If he doesn’t murder me for forgetting our plans first…”

“And your plans are?” He slips his arms through the sleeves of his shirt, slipping it on.

“I’m taking him to see your game. Maybe meet the team. Who knows? You won’t be able to see it if you don’t move your ass.” You finish putting your jeans on.

“I’ve never escaped through a window before, but it sounds fun.” He’s still smirking, clearly amused. You’re certain he would actually do that if you let him.

“On second thought, just stay here. I won’t let him into my room.” Your phone lights up with your brother’s face and number and starts to buzz. You pick it up. “Sorry, I’m coming! I was napping.” You hang up. “Please, Yuta?”

He steps into his own jeans. “That’s what I was planning on. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to incapacitate myself before the game.”

With that reassurance, you close the door to your room and head for the apartment door. Your brother, clad in a hat, hoodie, and jeans, weirdly normal for him, is standing in front of your door, his phone in his hand. He narrows his eyes. “Hi, Y/N. For a second there, I really thought you forgot about our plans. Who takes a nap on a Saturday afternoon?”

You step aside, letting him in. “I was just tired today for some reason. Sorry.” “You’re lucky you’re my favorite.” He walks in, sliding off his shoes next to yours. “Are your roommates home? It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

“No, but they’ll be at the game later. You won’t miss them.” You stand there, swaying somewhat awkwardly. You’re sure that he’s noticed that you’re acting strangely. “Who let you into the lower doors?”

Your brother steps inside casually. “Your neighbor Jaehyun. Nice kid.”

“Y-Yeah. He’s one of our midfielders.”

“I guess I’ll get to see him in action soon, then. Where near here is good for something quick? We only have an hour and a half until the game.”

You’re thankful for a change in subject. “Depends what you want to eat! Think about it while I run to the bathroom?”

As you head there, you glance at your closed door. You feel kind of bad for leaving him in there, but it’s for his own protection. When you get back to the door, your brother is in the same place, staring at the shoes around the entry. He points at a pair of men’s shoes, which you realize with dawning horror are Yuta’s.

“Y/N? Whose shoes are these?”

“Oh! Those are, um, Johnny’s. Yein’s boyfriend.”

He deadpans. “Johnny. Your neighbor. The one who lives right across from you. Who is dating your roommate who isn’t here right now.” When you don’t respond, he sighs. “Y/N, it would be a lot easier to lie to me if you didn’t tell me so much in the first place. Who’s in your room? I know you hate closing your door if you’re not sleeping.”

Reluctantly, you walk to your room, cursing observant soccer players. Yuta looks mildly surprised to see you, and you walk over to where he’s sitting on your bed, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him over to your brother. If he’s afraid of your brother, he doesn’t show it.

“Yuta, was it?” He’s still expressionless. “I’ll have you know that there’s a few rules.” Before Yuta can even ask about the rules, he’s launching into a detailed explanation about consequences, saying something about maiming and making it look like an accident.

“B/N, you’re a professional now. You should really try not to say such scary stuff. Also,” you say, frowning, “I can handle myself. You know that by now.”

Yuta breaks his silence. “She really can. She’s strong enough to deal with anything.”

“You really believe that?” Your brother’s gaze is unyielding.

“I do.”

“Well, then.” He suddenly lightens up, smiling at the two of you. “Want to join us for dinner? I’m thinking noodles.”

“I actually have to get to warm-ups soon…” Yuta says regretfully.

“That’s a good boy. See, Y/N, I trust your judgement. We best be off, then.” Abruptly, your brother turns, putting his shoes back on. You scramble to join him, grabbing your things and putting your own shoes on.

“I’ll see you later?” You say to Yuta, who’s simply staring, somewhat shell shocked that he survived the encounter.

He blinks, then gives you a sort of smirk. “How about a kiss for-”

“Don’t push it.” Your brother cuts him off, standing in the doorway. He starts down the stairs. When he’s not looking, you lean over, pressing your lips to Yuta’s cheek. Before you can turn around, he sneaks one of his own onto your lips. You run after your brother.

He thoroughly grills you about Yuta during dinner, but you don’t mind. You keep out the parts about sex and the specifics of the relationship coming to fruition and he seems satisfied. You barely make it to the game in time because of your brother’s interrogation, but you still get there early enough to see some of the drills. In work mode, he crosses his arms, making approving comments about Yuta’s footwork. Your boyfriend is in a similar mood, already focused in.

Then, the game starts. The other team starts with the ball, but it makes no difference. The Lions take it back, sending it back and forth across the field, gaining and losing it, until Yuta, as usual, scores, redeeming himself from the previous week. Your brother says something under his breath about potential and skill. Through the game, the Lions make great plays and you find yourself cheering for all of them, even Mingyu. The rival team stands no chance - not for lack of skill, but simply because your team is determined. By the end of the game, the score is a solid 3:0.

You’re one of the first onto the field after the teams break away from shaking hands. You meet Yuta in the middle, jumping on him in a hug when you reach him. You can’t stop the outpouring of praise, telling him how well he played, how brilliant he was. He just laughs, telling you he did his best. It’s the most positive thing you’ve heard from him after a game.

When you let go of him, willing to let the rest of his friends surround him now, you step away in search of your brother. To your surprise, he’s chatting up the Lions’ coach, who seems somewhat flustered by the Ravens’ striker speaking to him. Before you can get close, the coach blows the whistle he has around his neck, getting the attention of everyone around him, but particularly the team.

“Boys! Gather round, we have someone here with something to say to you.”

It doesn’t take long for them to recognize who your brother is.

It’s funny seeing the team rush to your brother, some pretending to be cool, some openly fawning over him. But, there’s one person who isn’t looking at him. From across the mob forming around your brother, you make eye contact with Yuta. And, in the midst of the stars shining in the form of the Raven, the Lion’s light falls on you.

#yuta smut #yuta fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #neowritingsnet #nct angst #yuta angst #nct one shot #yuta one shot #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #yuta imagine #nct imagine #yuta fanfiction #yuta fanfic #sports collab #i hope everyone enjoys this :)#apologies for lateness #wonjaekook

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

High Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer calls Reader to see if he can come over, but she’s already having her own fun and suggests something... out of the box. Category: Smut 18+ (oral- male receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, sex while high) Warnings: Smoking (marijuana), language, smut. (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 4.1k

***

The prospect of seeing Spencer Reid again was something that always excited Y/N. They'd only been seeing each other for about two months, but she never really knew when she would get to see him because of his job, and that made their relationship all the more interesting. Though, she wasn't really sure if she could call it a relationship, considering they had only went on one date. And even then, it was barely considered a date because they ended up leaving the movie twenty minutes in and spent the rest of the night having sex in her car.

Recalling that night to herself, Y/N smiled and wondered about all the other things they could do together.

She daydreamed for a few more minutes, and in no time her legs had started to shift together, craving any form of friction. And since her partner wasn't there to help, Y/N figured she'd find it elsewhere.

After shuffling to her bedroom, she stripped herself of all her clothes except for a pair of thin scarlet panties and put on a hotel bathrobe she'd stolen, not bothering to tie it closed. Then she opted to reach towards something she didn't normally use, but had on hand in case the need ever presented itself.

In a small box under her nightstand was a lighter accompanied by some joints she'd gotten from a friend a few weeks ago. The only time she ever really smoked was when she was with said friend, but it wasn't something she was ever opposed to partaking in. It just rarely ever crossed her mind.

Minutes later and Y/N was on the couch again, windows shut, lights off, a few candles lit in an attempt to offset the strong scent, and her earbuds in. There was a glass of red wine and another glass of iced water on the table in front of her, and she was all set. Before she took the box out of the pocket of her robe, she took a sip of wine and leaned back against the arm of the couch, one leg hanging off and and the other pulled to her chest.

After turning on a lo-fi playlist and taking a joint and the lighter from the box, Y/N finally lit it, then set her things on the table before taking a long drag. When she pulled it from her lips and slowly exhaled, she closed her eyes and focused on the music blasting through her earbuds. It didn't take long, only a few 3-minute songs, to feel a little buzzed. She kept her breathing steady, only taking a few drags once in a while as her free hand drifted over the front of her body, tracing patterns down her stomach and occasionally her breasts.

She was completely and totally relaxed. But just as she was about to dip her hand past her panties, the music stopped and her phone rang.

Had she not been slightly buzzed, she would have been more annoyed, but instead she just sighed, more disappointed than anything that her plans would (maybe) have to wait, depending on who was calling.

So Y/N was more than happy to look at her phone and see the words 'SPENCER REID' across the screen.

Unplugging her earbuds and then taking one more drag from her joint, she answered the phone. "Hey, Doc, what's up?" she inquired, smoke falling off her lips. "I'm happy you called."

"Hi, Y/N. Sorry to call so late."

"Nah, that's alright. It's never too late to get a call from my favorite guy."

She heard him laugh a little from the other end of the line. "Good. Well, um... I just got back from work and I was wondering if... maybe I could come over? That's fine if you're too busy, but I could really use the company, and I... I've missed you."

The smile on Y/N's face was unavoidable. And maybe it was only the buzz talking, but God, if hearing his voice wasn't the best thing in the whole world. It was almost as intoxicating as the high she was slowly but surely achieving.

"Aw, I've missed you, too, Doc," she purred. "What did you have in mind?"

Would it be wrong of me to pick up where I left off, she wondered as she waited for him to answer, her hand hovering over the waistband of her underwear. She took another drag of the joint and decided against it, though it was still tempting.

"Well, we can do anything you want, really, I just... I just want to be with you, that's all."

"Hmm... Alright. Well, come on over, and I'll be waiting."

"Okay. Should I, uh, bring some overnight clothes?"

Y/N felt like that was his subtle way of asking if they were going to be sleeping together that night, and just in case it wasn't, she added extra emphasis on her answer to either confirm his inquiry or give him a hint. "Yes."

He cleared his throat on the other end of the line before saying goodbye, and it made her giddy. They hung up, and she put the joint out, sticking it back in the box before wafting away some of the smoke and tying her robe closed. Every move she made made her head swim a little, but if anything she figured the small high she's created will make the sex feel even better.

She ran to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then spritzed on some perfume, hoping to mask some of the smell in case, for some reason, Spencer had a problem with it. She was sure he wouldn't, but she never wanted to make him uncomfortable with anything. Also, she just wanted to smell like the vanilla perfume she had that he once told her he loved anyway. Running back out to the living room, Y/N noticed that it still faintly smelled like marijuana. The candles masked it enough, though, and she figured it might dissipate by the time he got there.

Eventually she found herself on the couch again, before deciding to wait by the door. The thought of seeing Spencer again sent her body into a giddy, lovesick mess. She wanted to see him as soon as possible, and if that meant waiting by the front door like a puppy then so be it.

And then there was a knock at the door.

She wanted to wait. Really, she did. But she couldn't resist, and almost as soon as he'd stopped knocking, Y/N grabbed the doorknob and twisted, opening the door to reveal him standing there. He almost looked shocked, probably at the speed and ferocity with which she used to open the door, but once he saw her face, the shock melted into pure adoration, his lips forming a shy smile as he clutched his bag in his hands.

"Hi, Y/N," he said softly as she stepped aside and let him in.

"Hey'a, Doc," she chirped happily as she shut the door behind him.

He took his shoes off and set his bag on the ground before he spoke again. "You... lit candles," he observed, then turned around to fully take her in. His eyes drifted to her robe, which hung loosely closed, her underwear just barely peeking through. "And you look..."

His soft voice turned her insides into a quivering mess, and it took all of her strength not to jump him on the spot. She waited for him to finish his sentence, but it was clear that she'd rendered him speechless.

"Yeah, I was only going to have a relaxing night in," she explained, tilting her head up and exposing her neck. "You called at just the right time."

His head also tilted upwards, but he sniffed the air a few times. "Have... you been smoking?"

Y/N was a little panicked, but she tried not to let it show. "Oh. Yeah," she laughed, twirling a piece of her hair in between her fingers. "I was smoking a joint when you called, so I'm just a little buzzed right now. I hope that's okay. I thought maybe the candles would help offset the smell, but it's pretty strong I guess."

Spencer cleared his throat before speaking. "Oh, uh, no, that's okay. You know, actually, research related to using cannabis before and during sex isn't really conclusive, but it's theorized that depending on the person it could increase pleasure during orgasm, and even just touch in general."

"Is that so?" she responded, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. She could have listened to him talk all day. He nodded, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. It made her want him even more. "Well... I think we should test out that theory. Don't you, Dr. Reid? Wouldn't that be fun?"

Her hands played with the tie of her robe before she slowly undid the knot and pulled the soft fabric apart, running her fingers lightly across her bare stomach as she did. She took her hands away from the robe just before it exposed her breasts and dropped her hands to her side. Spencer's eyes raked over her once more, each of his breaths getting noticeably heavier.

"Well?" she encouraged, tilting her head to the side.

He took a step towards her, clearing his throat a little. "Are, um... Are you high enough to try do you think? Or do you want more?"

She smiled. "Well, I can definitely feel a little of the effects right now, but some more wouldn't hurt. Would you prefer I smoke beforehand or during?"

"Um... Either is fine, I suppose."

One more step and he was close enough to touch, so Y/N reached for his hand and laced their fingers together, already melting at the contact.

"Would you like to share?" she finally asked. "Of course I won't make you if you're not comfortable, I just thought I'd ask."

He smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I appreciate that. And... I'd love to share."

Pulling herself away from the door, she kept her hand locked with Spencer's before leading him a few steps away into the living room.

"Have a seat," she offered, reluctantly letting him go as he made his way to sit on the couch. Y/N turned and cleared the coffee table, setting the drinks and candles on the side table instead, and then grabbed the small box as she turned to face Spencer.

Her eyes locked onto his as she swiftly opened the box and grabbed a new joint and her lighter. Setting the box on the side table, she made sure to keep her upper body somewhat covered by the robe. It left just enough exposed that Spencer's eyes briefly left hers and glanced down at her chest, checking to see if anything had slipped. Almost as quickly as he'd looked down, he looked back up, swallowing and slightly parting his lips.

Y/N took that moment to close their distance and promptly straddle his lap. He straightened and placed his hands tentatively on her waist, over her robe as she brought her hand up to his face, lightly tracing the end of the joint across his jawline.

"Have you ever smoked before, Doc," she asked softly as she brought the joint around to trace his lips.

He exhaled a little, and she could see his tongue dance behind his lips, trying to find words it seemed, before settling on, "A few times... I don't particularly care for the smell, but I manage."

She pulled the joint away from him and placed it between her lips, simultaneously holding out the lighter for him to take. He did, and she watched his hands as he flicked it on and lit it for her. She took the lighter from him and reached to the left to toss it on the table next to the box, her hips grinding softly in his lap. She could feel Spencer's breath hitch as she came back, this time leaning backwards a little and sliding the robe over her breasts, finally exposing them as she inhaled.

The pure longing in Spencer's eyes was just as exhilarating, if not better, than the feeling Y/N got when she removed the joint from her lips and slowly let go of her breath. She blew the smoke to the side, barely missing his face, and she noticed how he slightly chased it, tilting his head to inhale some of it.

With her free hand, Y/N dragged her fingers across her breasts and sighed longingly. "You said this could increase pleasure just by touching, right, Doctor?"

He nodded, his eyes drifting down to her chest as he softly bit the corner of his lip.

"Well, I can't tell if this feels better than it would normally, but it definitely feels pretty damn good," she remarked before taking another short drag. Her fingers pinched her nipple lightly, and she moaned as she exhaled, grinding her hips against his once more.

This time he breathed a little louder, nearly a whimper, and it urged Y/N forward. "Touch me, Doctor," she breathed, grinding her hips once more and taking her hand away from her breast.

Without hesitation, Spencer's hand replaced hers, his thumb rolling softly over her nipple. She sighed, holding onto his shoulder with her free hand before taking another drag. This time, when she exhaled, Y/N tilted her head upwards, exposing her neck and, again, grinding her hips. Her eyes closed as he continued to touch her, his other hand resting firmly on her bare waist, skin burning skin.

Every second of this is pure bliss, and they both still had a good amount of clothes on. It could have been the drug taking effect, or maybe it was the fact that they hadn't seen each other in a few weeks, but it was the best Y/N had felt in a while.

As she leaned into him, enveloping herself in every sensation, Spencer leaned his head forward and took her nipple into his mouth, lightly sucking on it and swirling is tongue over it, his other hand tightening its grip on her waist. She moaned again, grinding her hips even harder and feeling her stomach flutter at every touch. He moved along to her other breast, following the same motions with his tongue as before as she continued to rock into his hips.

She took one more drag and then exhaled before pulling herself away from him and forcing him to look her in the eye.

"As much as I love how this feels, Doctor, I think you have on a few too many clothes. Here." She handed him the joint. He took it and she climbed up off of him and knelt to the ground, taking him in as he brought it to his lips and inhaled. Y/N sighed, tilting her head and softly biting her bottom lip when he pulled the joint away and breathed out, smoke pooling around his face.

God, he's so hot, she thought to herself as she took him all in. He was wearing just a white button down dress shirt with a tie, black pants, and one sock that was purple, the other white with red polkadots. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up just below his elbows, showing off small muscles and veins.

My God, those veins...

She pulled herself out of her trance, crawling up Spencer's legs and resting her hands on his belt. "Can I take these off for you, Doc?"

"Yes," he responded breathlessly.

Y/N looked up at him as she worked at his belt, unbuckling then sliding it out and tossing it on the floor. Then she deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before sliding them down, also tossing them aside.

"I'm a little more high than you right now, Doctor, so you might want to catch up if you want this little experiment to be accurate," she purred as she palmed him through his underwear. Without hesitation he took another drag from the joint and closed his eyes, leaning his head back while she continued to tease.

"That's it, Doc, just relax. I'll take good care of you."

Spencer exhaled, groaning as he did so. Y/N's hands continued to trace his dick through the fabric, and she could feel him getting harder beneath her touch. Her head leaned down to kiss his inner thigh, and she trailed her tongue lightly upwards, eventually reaching and pressing a firm kiss to the tip of his dick through the fabric when he took another drag. Her mouth then travelled upwards to his lower stomach, undoing the bottom buttons of his shirt and slowly working her way up, pressing soft kisses and little licks to his skin after undoing each one. She took her time, lightly raking her nails up and down his torso in between buttons. By the time she reached the top, undoing his tie and tossing it aside, leaving his shirt on but completely open, he was in the middle of taking another drag.

Sliding off her robe and tossing it aside, Y/N waited until he exhaled, then straddled him again and firmly pressed her lips to his. Her hands glided up to the back of his neck and through his hair, tugging lightly, as she's learned over time he very much enjoyed. As if she'd needed confirmation, Spencer moaned into her mouth, using his free hand to lightly caress her back.

Now that there were less clothes between them, Y/N ground her hips against his again, and her lower stomach practically burst into butterflies, sending her into a mess of tremors. She moaned softly as she took his bottom lip between her teeth, and then before he could lean in and kiss her again, she pulled away, taking the joint from him and taking another long drag. Her other hand played with his hair as she leaned her head back and breathed out, smoke falling around her.

Spencer's hands gripped her waist firmly as he rocked her hips into his, leaning forward and kissing down the front of her neck.

"Fuck," she breathed, grinding harder and feeling her breathing pick up. She could probably cum from just this if they kept at it, but in the weeks since she'd seen him last, she'd craved him, and so she was willing to drag this out as long as possible in case he was somehow called away in the middle of the night.

Reluctantly she peeled herself away and handed him the joint. "You want me to suck you off while you get high, Doc?" she inquired, kneeling once more and tugging on the waistband of his underwear. "Would that feel good?"

"God, yes, Y/N," he breathed, throwing his head back.

"Well, then your wish is my command," she purred, pulling his underwear down and tossing them aside with the other clothes. His dick was even more perfect than she remembered, and her stomach erupted at the sight of it. Licking a line up the length of him, Y/N's eyes fluttered up to look at him through her eyelashes. He was taking another drag of the joint as she took him completely in her mouth and started bobbing her head up and down at a torturous pace. His other hand drifted down to her hair, and he combed it back, away from her face so he could see her.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so good," he groaned, smoke exhaling from his lips as he said it.

She moaned softly around his dick in response, gradually increasing her pace. The lack of breath through her mouth mixed with the cannabis in her system made her head start to spin, but in the best way possible.

Eventually she slowed her movements again, then removed her mouth from him completely, replacing it with her hand. "Would you say the cannabis is increasing you pleasure when I touch you, Dr. Reid?"

At the smooth, seductive tone in her voice, he leaned his head back and sighed as she continued stroking him with her hand. "Yes. You feel so good. You make me feel so fucking good, Y/N."

His words made her stomach coil in desire, and she decided promptly that she needed him right then and there. She peeled her hand away from him and got up, sliding her underwear down and looking him dead in the eye.

"Mmm, I love when you use your words, Doc," she purred, straddling him once more and taking the joint from him to take a drag herself. She took her sweet time, sinking down just a little so that the tip of his cock sat firmly at the base of her pussy, barely touching. She exhaled and used her other hand to comb his hair with her fingers. "Tell me what you want, baby. I'll give you anything you want." She meant it wholeheartedly.

His hands slid up her sides and over to her breasts just lightly, enough so that he wasn't touching them completely, but enough that she shivered. He ran them back down and firmly gripped her waist. "I want you to fuck me, Y/N," he said, completely entranced and desperate. "Ride me. Please, I want to feel you."

"Happy to," she breathed before completely sinking down onto him and rocking her hips forward. He groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Fuck..."

She set a steady pace, bouncing nicely on his cock as she took another long drag of the joint. Everything was dizzying and light around her, and every part of her body lit up with pleasure. As she exhaled, she let out a moan louder than she had all night, everything so overwhelmingly blissful and, well... high.

It wouldn't take long to come undone, she was sure of it, and she didn't want this to end so soon. So she slowed her pace, rocking against him ever so slowly, soaking in every inch of him, every touch of his hands as they roamed her body.

Spencer took the joint from her fingers and took another drag, locking eyes with her as he did it. When he blew the smoke out, it enveloped the both of them, and she breathed it in through her nose, taking a deep breath and gripping his shoulders as she worked her hips against his.

"Fuck," she breathed, leaning forward to kiss him. When their lips connected, that's when everything started to build. Y/N was pulled impossibly closer to him and her speed started to involuntarily increase. His tongue swiped out to meet with hers and his free hand reached down to her clit, circling it with his thumb. The extra sensation sent her into overdrive, and her orgasm crept up into her, threatening to explode. She groaned into Spencer's mouth, signaling how close she was to coming undone. Her lips parted from his and she rested their foreheads together, his hips bucking upwards to meet hers and plunging himself even deeper into her as his thumb worked her clit.

"That's it, fuck," she breathed, and in no time at all, release found her, blinding her so brightly it was like she was wasn't even on this plane of existence. She let out a long moan, her hips stopping and staying completely still as he fucked into her relentlessly. Her eyes screwed shut, seeing stars as her bliss increased, every thrust of his hips bringing her higher and higher until she was calling out his name.

His name falling off her lips was enough to push Spencer over the edge himself. He pulled her closer as he spilled over inside of her, and Y/N felt like she was on fire. They both hung on to every second until they were both slumped against each other, completely spent and also lightheaded.

Y/N was so unbelievably unbothered and comfortable in that moment that she didn't want to get up, but reluctantly she helped herself up off his lap and placed herself next to him, still hugging close to his side. Neither of them said anything for a while. Rather, they passed the joint between the themselves until it was finished, occasionally kissing each other in between passes.

She set the end of the joint on top of the box on the table before leaning back to Spencer and resting her head on his shoulder. She was completely aware of every glide of his hand up and down her arm as they sat in comfortable silence, until he broke it.

"Gotta say, that's not exactly what I had in mind when I called. But I'm happy about it anyway. We should do that more often."

Y/N snuggled up into his side and giggled. "Anytime, Doc."

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