#he's also been an ass to other friends in general: refusing to be clear in communication; wanting us to guess what's wrong; implying we

[nicepersondisorder]

turns one of the people who wants to call me a friend called his shitty ex a narcissist despite me telling our whole friendgroup how he should Not luse it as an insult, at least two other people with cluster b agreeing with me and talking how narcissistic absue is incorrect and harmful wording AND me telling him specifically that i have npd after he said some bullshit about bpd and cluster b in general. his ass is not getting my friendship 🥰

#he's also been an ass to other friends in general: refusing to be clear in communication; wanting us to guess what's wrong; implying we #needed to take sides in the conflict that Does Not touch us (us as in “friendgroup”) at all. it's interpersonal. it's not Group problem #vent #rant #tagging as both lmao #cw ableism #and the bullshit he said about bpd is that 1. he wants to stay away from people with bpd because they make him uncomfortable #(get over yourself jerk) #2. he won't talk to pwbpd unless they're taking medicine for bpd. literally stepped away from him when he said all that. AND he started to #rant about his bad experience with pwbpd. which he also apparently done to an another person in a friendgroup when they've told him #they have bpd. deep and exhausted sigh. #i love complaining #anyway i want him as far away from me as possible. at first his drama was kind of funny but now that he tries to involve a whole friendgroup #in his bullshit i just wanna said. adios buddy. i dony care. #🖤 #anyway i hope he doesn't wish me a happy birthday today because i dont have energy to lie to him and he will make a fucking scene if i #outright telk him i don't like him. lmao

[comradekatara]

I just read your rant about zukka and it made me think what if zuko’s obsession with sokka has to do with the fact that sokka in some ways encompasses some of the traits that have been forced on Zuko since he was young like the whole killing without mercy or remorse and the need for control and the strategic thinking. But Sokka uses these skills no to try and rule the world but to help aang stop Ozai. I haven’t watched atla in a while but your analyses help me realize a lot of details that I missed about it was he characters

yeah i’ve talked before about how sokka and azula being so similar must be kind of a mindfuck for zuko because sokka has “a killer instinct that’s just so fire nation” but also he’s literally friends with the bald baby pacifist monk avatar who says shit like “do you think we could’ve been friends too?” and so zuko clearly has no idea what to think. like he and azula were both indoctrinated into this world that valued certain traits and dogmas over others (ie, sokka’s over aang’s) and so azula sees sokka as more of a threat.

it’s funny because obviously sokka and zuko’s first encounter is sokka getting his ass handed to him by a guy who doesn’t even care that he’s in his way, but also that scheme is pretty immediately disrupted by sokka’s boomerang. and then the next time they meet, sokka has actually spent time training under someone (instead of fumbling around in the dark by himself) and can now hold his own far better. and every single encounter after that sees sokka not only rising to zuko’s level, but surpassing him, fighting him, foiling his plans, advocating to leave him for dead, ignoring him, dismissing him.

even at the western air temple, sokka is the liaison who welcomes him into the group (the designated “leadership” role comes with more responsibilities than simply assassinating assassins), but he also makes it pretty clear that he doesn’t care for or trust zuko throughout “the firebending masters,” even if his manner of bullying is far less overtly malicious than katara’s. and yet, zuko cannot discount him. zuko saw him kill combustion man. zuko understands his value to the group. zuko recognizes that quality he and azula share. zuko may have had an advantage over him the first time they met, but it sure didn’t last long. if azula and zuko have anything in common, it’s a mutual respect for sokka.

like, sokka is the only member of the gaang’s name azula actually says (aang is “the avatar,” katara is “peasant,” toph is [insert blind joke here], and suki is “my favorite prisoner”) and on the day of black sun, she elects to distract sokka first and foremost knowing that he’s their “leader.” and she does clearly respect him more than most people do because she can see herself in him (at least to some extent, i don’t think either of them are actually insightful enough to realize how deep that connection truly goes) and thus can recognize his worth as someone who is in a similar position, albeit on the opposite side.

zuko does say and aang and katara’s names (and appa’s), but sokka’s name is the first he says, and it’s really the only name he uses as a mode of address. and the matter of naming is clearly important to royal heirs, who are defined by their names and titles. we see that especially when zuko confuses ursa’s “remember who you are” with “remember your ancestry,” declaring who he is not as internal identity, but as title. to afford someone the respect of addressing them by name is to implicitly demonstrate respect for them.

this is further demonstrated by the fact that unlike “you just had to pick up the glowing egg” zuko of just an episode prior, zuko really does follow sokka’s leadership and places his complete faith in his abilities. there’s no complaining or backseat driving or undermining of his intentions, which is genuinely anomalous for zuko, who generally refuses to listen to anyone about anything (unless he’s being actively scared into submission, and even then he’s stood up to ozai multiple times). he’s not outspoken in these episodes, however. he is downright docile. and it’s because he genuinely believes sokka to be his superior. which isn’t to say that sokka isn’t better than he is, but like. aang is too and he doesn’t take his knowledge into account! because aang doesn’t represent the values that zuko strove to embody his entire life.

what’s more, i would imagine there’s something kind of satisfying, if not downright intriguing, about knowing someone who basically is what you aspire to be, who you were told you must be your entire life, and seeing that he is just. absolutely fucking miserable. like azula is also miserable, but zuko doesn’t know that (yet), because she hides it better. but sokka is genuinely suicidal (especially in these episodes). meeting this idealized standard of perfection you have always failed to reach and realizing that whatever standards you once (recently) held yourself to are actually deeply unfulfilling. that sokka isn’t “perfect,” that he actually considers himself a failure. and the fact that when he does fail, he considers it the end of the world because he never built up the resilience one gets from being a normal person who doesn’t always succeed on their first try. and zuko’s like “finally, something i have that he doesn’t: intimate knowledge of what it’s like to constantly fail and underperform and disappoint people!”

zuko is really perfectly equipped to support sokka in this situation, because he idolizes him enough to provide him with the unconditional support sokka feels fundamentally undeserving of, and also understands sokka’s misery enough to give him actually meaningful advice when it matters. what’s interesting about how zuko feels about sokka is that it’s not just about uncritically putting him on a pedestal for being Nice Azula or whatever, it’s also about zuko’s genuine desire to help sokka and protect him.

yue inhabits the martyr role that sokka has always envisioned himself in, suki establishes herself as someone who is equally capable of protecting him and he can her, and zuko risks his life to support sokka on his crazy suicide mission, when sokka was so intent on going it alone because he wasn’t thinking clearly didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. sokka doesn’t need someone who treats him like an irreproachable god. in fact, i think sokka would hate nothing more than having a sycophant. he needs someone who understands that he is fallible and vulnerable and needs help like any human being does, and respects and trusts and admires him anyway.

zuko doesn’t have the capacity to recognize azula’s insecurities and shortcomings, or the desire to help her, but he does for sokka. because he never felt like he was in a position where he had to compete for something against him. he’s not trying to usurp sokka’s role as “leader” (except for whatever was going on in “sozin’s comet,” but that’s for another post) and is happy to simply follow him, in a way that is genuinely uncharacteristic for him.

and you can say that it’s because zuko is gay and stupid (which wouldn’t be wrong, per se), but it’s also because sokka embodies everything zuko ever thought he had to be. and it’s because sokka doesn’t even care. it’s the recognition that one person’s idealized model of behavior is another’s burden. that if zuko had been “perfect” like sokka, he never would’ve gained the wisdom to accept defeat and not let it deter him. perfect like azula, who, like sokka, shatters in the face of failure.

zuko says as much in “the siege of the north,” and again in “the western air temple.” the fact that he isn’t a prodigy, the fact that he “had to struggle and fight” to achieve what little he has, is “what made me who i am.” so he’ll respect sokka, of course, because sokka is who he wished for so long that he could be. but he’ll also support sokka, because he has just enough distance from the situation to recognize that he’s not an island (even if sokka himself is convinced that he must be). so it’s not obsession, per se, nor is it simply uncritical admiration that confuses excellence for infallibility. it’s unconditional support born of understanding, a sort of empathy. it’s devotion.

#xxzavier42 #asks #sokka #zuko #azula #sokkaxzuko #azula&sokka #azula&zuko #analysis #at some point i gotta stop saying ‘whoops i wrote way more than i thought i would!!! teehee’ #and recognize that this is simply my modus operandi #i love to ramble …. lol #also when i call sokka the ‘leader’ its with the caveat that I think the designation of leadership is kind of flawed #but that’s definitely how azula and zuko see it #and in the most traditional sense that’s what he is #but not always. #i need to finish and post my essay on katara and sokka gifted kidism…. #anyway. zucchini good 👍🏼

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞

part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug

chapter summary:

[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]

[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.

"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."

Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.

"I have a feeling dinner is ready."

"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."

He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."

You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."

He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."

You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.

And Aemond deserved better than that at least.

"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."

"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.

Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.

Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.

It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.

You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.

You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.

Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.

You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.

As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"

"Your room?"

Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.

Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.

"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"

"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.

"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"

"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."

Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."

You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."

He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.

"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.

"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."

He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.

"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."

"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."

Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."

You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."

"Promise you'll stop now?"

"Fine, I promise."

An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."

"Yeah," you grin.  "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."

"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.

You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.

"It isn't fully true though."

"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.

"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."

"Gee. Thanks."

"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."

"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.

"Because you're sweet?"

The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.

"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."

A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.

"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."

He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."

"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."

You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.

"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."

 He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.

"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."

"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"

"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."

 "It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.

"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"

"Me? How the hell is this about—"

"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."

He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."

"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."

He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."

"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.

But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.

And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.

Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."

You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."

You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."

"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.

"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.

His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.

You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.

"Hmph!"

 "You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"

The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.

"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"

"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"

Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.

"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."

She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."

When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"

"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."

She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."

"Love you too, lovebug."

Loving Helaena isn't hard.

Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.

And yet you can't deny your hope.

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdgodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @honey132

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond angst #aemond fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒 #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n

[wickjump]

Wick, i wanna hear your thoughts on horror x cross..I’m desperate to hear someone talk about them. Idc how crazy or how ooc it is. trust that I will eat it up like it’s a million dollar steak

OH MY GOD THNAK YOU SO MUCH VIBINGTOPAZ IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT THEM WORDS CANT EXPLAIN HOW HAPPY OKAY HERE YOU TO HERES A BIG FAT HEADCANON DUMP. i never see them outside of bsp and don’t get me wrong i love the bsp but sometimes i just want these two on their own yk? this is a bit more fanon than my normal stuff btw but i try my best ok

okok here:

when cross first joined nm and his group he was terrified of horror. he was intimidated by everyone, but horror was the most visibly scary. like there was just no ignoring the fact that this guy killed people before like he ignored it with everyone else. so for a good long while he kept his distance, and it was horror who tried to reach out first after months of never talking despite living in the same building, eating at the same table, and working under the same guy.

it was very clear that talking to cross just at all scared the shit out of him, and since horror is in charge of the cooking, he decided hey why not, and started making foods that appealed to cross as a sort of peace offering. after a while, cross realized what horror’s intent was, and slowly started to come around. he even attempted to give horror food in return (a few of the chocolate bars he had squirreled away) which solidified them as allies and set the foundation for them to develop a further friendship and relationship.

food is their initial and primary love language because it was a medium they could both work with when they first started becoming friends—horror enjoyed being given and giving food purely because he HAS it, and he’s able to make sure he and those he loves are fed, and cross had cooked with undyne alongside his brother and knows the basics of it and enjoys it. cross is literally the only one allowed in the kitchen outside of horror and nightmare, partially bc horror loooovesss him and partially because he’s actually responsible. horror makes him brownies sometimes just because he can btw. or like those chocolate taco desserts? cross loves those so horror makes them. all the time. cross does not mind he likes it a lot actually it’s very sweet

horror and cross are the epitome of i would kill for you (horror) x i would die for you (cross). they’re both very very intense but in different ways and i love that for them. cross takes blows on the battlefield meanwhile horror attacks those on behalf of cross when the other hesitates or refuses to kill (which is all the time cross at heart is a pacifist).

i also feel like they’d be big on physical touch but maybe i’m just super lonely. they’re devoted in different ways and i like that for them. they seem like big ‘kiss on the hand’ people yk what i’m talking about. like the back of your hand kiss. that. i also think they’re one of those cringe ass couples who like. do the waist grabby from behind when they’re cooking or generally working. ew cringe romance (i would die for them). neck kisses too. and biting but that tips into suggestive territory. they’d be big on that though

oh hey angst time. horror feels guilty and somewhat disturbed whenever cross mentions alphys, because of his au’s alphys incident, and it’s the same with undyne. cross was very close with both of them, more so than horror ever was despite having been alphys’ coworker at one point (after all, alphys was cross’ sister), and he feels bad because like. cross speaks so highly of alphys and undyne, but horror tore apart alphys’ mind and undyne is literally the cause of his most visible scar. he feels guilt for what he did, and refuses to elaborate on his au’s alphys and undyne for the most part because he doesn’t want to fuck cross up with the knowledge of the things horror did, the things alphys did, the things undyne did. thankfully after getting the hint that horror did not like mentions of undyne, cross stopped mentioning his undyne pretty much entirely and speaks of alphys a little bit less, and they never really elaborated on that fully outside of choppy confessions during panic attacks.

meanwhile, cross doesn’t understand why horror never visits his au, or at least his brother. because horror is ABLE to, he has his au right there, but he just… never visits? none of his family, his friends? cross would kill and die for the chance to get his au back, but horror doesn’t care for his? horror feeds them and that’s it, he doesn’t remember the last time horror just took a break to visit his family. cross would sacrifice his own life for even a sliver of a chance of getting his family back. it’s not until he fully understands how horrifying horror’s au is that he doesn’t resent him as much for it.

their clashing views and experience are hard to look past, but in the end they love each other enough to empathize with each other and the situations they’d come from. horror has issues with remembering and articulating things from time to time combined with severe migraines, so cross helps him with those. horror meanwhile gets cross to sit the fuck down and take care of himself jesus christ man because what do you mean this asshole is INTENTIONALLY starving himself. fym “i feel like i haven’t earned it lol” sit the fuck down and eat this food i LOVINGLY PREPARED. GOD. they help each other w their issues and bad habits. cross works himself to near death? okay shut up i’m going to forcibly lift you up and carry you to your room and lock you inside until you go to sleep. horror throws up after eating because he can’t handle that much food? cross is there to help him through it. i like them a lot. they r there for each other through their highs and lows.

since i hate xchara exclusion i think xchara like absolutely fucking despises horror. not because he’s evil and mean and grrr to cross, but he just genuinely does not trust horror and cannot believe that he has any sort of good intentions. xchara sort of fueled cross’ doubt about him for a while, though as time moved on and horror didn’t seem to have any harmful ulterior motives, xchara toned down on the whole ‘he is going to kill you don’t blink around him or you will die’ talk. not entirely but you know. he’s always got the ‘i’ve got my eye on you’ look whenever horror is anywhere near them but horror doesn’t know that unfortunately. he doesn’t get the pseudo brother stamp of approval. horror’s brother likes cross a lot though, especially because cross is literally the exact opposite of lazy and unhealthy and encourages self care of others (not himself, the absolute loser). like out of anyone he could’ve ended up with, horror’s brother (creeps? crooks? sugar??) likes cross the best i think.

ok speed round: cross is the type to not notice when anyone is interested in him, just at all. most frustrating months of horror’s life really. horror packs little trail mix baggies for cross when he goes out on missions or patrol. this is just cause i think it’s cute. purring skeletons, i like purring skeletons it’s my favorite thing ever and i think they should get to purr together and lay down in bed for hours on end half asleep half awake just existing together. when cross saw his very first colored sunset horror was there and that definitely furthered the at the time small spark of romance. cross, bc he’s a swap, is much more of a superhero nerd than a science nerd like horror, and they bicker over whether or not they watch a documentary or action movie. i think they don’t bicker like killer and dust do, they bicker in like. the very clearly lighthearted and cutesy way that doesn’t last long. it’s more like banter actually. gags

ok that’s it (for now…..) because i don’t want this to be too-too long. i love them and i was so so so so SO excited when you asked me this omg. i love asks like these i cannot stress this enough. ask me whatever you want whenever you want and i will answer. if it doesn’t seem like i have, that’s because it’s in my drafts and being worked on because sometimes i’m unsure or have half finished thoughts i want to put the effort in fleshing out later bc y’all deserve headcanons that aren’t half baked. anyway i will literally never get tired of this it’s so fun

#way more fanon than usual #like wayyy more fanon #but stfu i’m having fun over here #and i cannot see them in canon or canon adjacent ever probably #they’re far too different #horror sans #cross sans #horrorcross #cross x horror #horror x cross #bad sanses #sanscest #utmv

[bugeater101]

Truth or Dare?, pt. 1

Synopsis: Minho and you played a game of Truth or Dare, and when you don't comply with the rules and refuse to obey your orders as a loser, you must face the consequences.

Content: SMUT !!!! slkfsdlkjf anyways. sub!reader x dom!Minho, fem!reader, perv!minho, best friends to lovers, school au, mentions of weed, mentions of masturbation (f. and m.), discussion of dick size, sex toys, Minho's an ass man (and i stand by that!!!!), panty sniffing, as always the reader is curvy/plus size but it doesn't really play into the plot but Minho's super hot for her obviously, suggestive content, slight fluff if you squint ig.

Word Count: 6.8k

Author's notes: I've been playing with this idea for a while and I'm so excited to finally put pen to paper! I hope you enjoy this mini series (should only be 2/3 parts, depending on how long I decide to make them) and they will be all out fairly shortly since I intend to release them a day after another. Even though the characters in this fic are portraying students, it is just like my Han fic, Public Display of Affection. Meaning that both characters are 18+. Please, do not interact with my work if you are a minor. Thank you everyone and enjoy!

Edit: Originally, when leeknow's... size was discussed, it was wayyyy too big. So I have (sadly) shrunk him a bit. The story does not change at all other than that detail!

Taglist: @scribblemetae, @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki

part 1, part 2, part 3

"Truth or dare?" Minho questioned as he undid his tie, freeing himself from his school uniform

"Hmmm... truth!" you answered, leaning your head on your hand that was supported by a layer of forgotten homework on the table below.

"What's your opinion on Mr. Nam?" Minho questioned, making you squeal with laughter and make him laugh too.

"Oh my God!" You hollered as you fell back, laying on the ground in fits of giggles as Minho clapped. The secrets and rumours surrounding Mr. Nam made him a living legend, a feared yet benevolent dictator at your school. You sat up and cleared your throat, containing yourself as you cleaned some of the work that you had scattered off your table.

"He's a total snob, and I do believe the rumour that he's gay and called off his engagement to elope with the former Phys. Ed. coach," you responded, finally answering his question.

"No way!" Minho shouted back, amused at your response. "Not possible! I total believe the one that he got the former drama teacher pregnant but that it turned out to be a hysterical pregnancy because she wanted him to leave his fucking wife." You snickered at his assertion, loving how he entertained the beloved "Nam Theories" just as much as you did.

"Good for her. I always respect a woman who knows what she wants," you remarked with satire in your tone. With a nod to your homework, you silently suggested to Minho to return to the task at hand. The schoolwork had piled up throughout the week, waiting for you two to try and tackle it all in one day as you usually did. You too always did schoolwork at your house after Thursdays, shut away in your bedroom and attempting to diminish the growing pile of work before the weekend began.

Throughout the years of friendship between you two, your bedroom had become a safe haven for Minho, adorned in memories you two had gathered throughout your years of schooling and bathed in sunlight that pour in from your skylight and west-facing windows. Minho also just liked being close to you in general, watching you giggle at his jokes, toppling over at the melodramatic responses he gave and giving him a chance to sneak a peak up your skirt or down your shirt.

Okay, yeah. There's that.

So he had a crush on you. Big deal. Everyone in the school did. He loved how your personality reflected his mischievous ways and adored the way you smiled at everything he said, yet remained stone-faced with everyone else. Plus, you were obviously well-endowed to the point that the school uniform didn't fit you as conservatively as it should have, but you didn't mind (or you chose not to notice). You two had other friends but were just closer with each other, which was how Minho liked it, especially when he got to be in your room with you exclusively once a week; it was a gift. Sometimes, you two played games to distract from the mountainous pile of work, like today. Other times, too even cuddled together while watching a movie to finish the evening off. He enjoyed holding you, having you play with your hair, your tits pressing against his arm, your thighs crushing his hands to keep them warm, and... God... your ass was just perfect.

He loved when you laughed like this now, cackling and bending over from fits of giggles, giving him the perfect opportunity to stare at your pretty body. Now, however, you wanted to stop playing games and get back to work, which was never fun in Minho's opinion. It was sometimes annoying that you were always the more diligent one of the two of you, even though you always kept him on track.

"Booooo," Minho pouted, laying his face on the coffee table that you used to study on. He kicked you under the table as you both sat on the floor, nudging you and making you smack him back. "C'mon! Let's keep playing! It's your turn!" He protested.

"No, Minho," you scorned him. "We have this test next week and we have to study for it."

"Please, God, no, kill me now," he cried out, burying his face in the workload. "C'mon, please?! We can make it interesting?" You stopped scribbling on your work and silence filled the room. Minho smirked: you could never resist a good bet.

"...What kind of bet are you thinking of?" You responded, not lifting your face from the work.

"Oh, so now you want to play," Minho mused, sitting up and leaning against the wall behind him.

"Shut up and set the rules," you groaned at him, tossing a pen at his chest and grabbing a new writing utensil.

"Ah! Christ, okay," he laughed, blocking the pen with his forearms. "Hmm let's see..." he leaned his head back and thought to the annoying tapping of your pencil.

"Ooh! I got it!" He shouted, making you jump. A maniacal smile spread across his face as he rubbed his hands like an evil mastermind.

"Why do I feel like I made a dumb decision," you pondered out loud, sighing at his ridiculousness. Minho cleared his throat, pretending as if he was making a huge announcement to an anxious crowd rather than to the singular annoyed you.

"This round of truth or dare will be like no other! The questions will be aggressive, dangerous, and downright inappropriate for any normal game," he mimicked a posh accent, acting as if he was speaking some royal decree into effect, "Additionally, this game will have raised stakes! If one refuses to answer the question of truth or do the dare, that individual will be forced to do anything that the victor— i.e. the person who gave them the request—demands of them. And, the loser will do it without question. If the loser refuses or does not comply, the victor gets to punish them any way they deem fit."

You thought for a moment about the terms of the agreement, crossing your arms at Minho's proposition.

"Anything I want you to do, you'll have to do it?" You questioned.

"Precisely," Minho nodded. You blew some air out before looking back at him.

"What did you mean by 'punish the loser any way they deem fit?'" You raised your eyebrows, concerned about that portion of the rules.

Minho shrugged, "I dunno. It could be anything, like a horrible prank or even spreading a rumour about the loser or something. Anything you set your mind to."

You shivered slightly. What would such a punishment resemble? However, the idea of winning and making Minho do something so embarrassing—or something even worse if he was defiant against you—was too sweet.

You shrugged. "Fuck it." You stuck your hand out and Minho reached out to grab it and gave it a firm shake. "I've been wanting to start a rumour anyways that Mr. Nam was having an affair with you. This will be a great opportunity."

"Wait, what?" Minho looked taken back as he released your hand, making you giggle.

"Don't worry, I'll be incredibly benevolent as a victor. The rumour will say you ended it."

"You forget that I will reign triumphant," Minho retorted, making you snort.

"In your dreams," you sneered back. "Anyways," you leaned on your palms, staring back at Minho. "Go for it."

"What are you talking about, dumbass? It's your turn in 'Truth or Dare.'" Minho crossed his arms in annoyance and rolled his eyes back, making you chuckle.

"Fine, I'll start this show then," you giggled, pretending to be annoyed that you got to begin this game of dares. You thought for a moment, glancing up and looking around. Though you took long, Minho didn't mind. Not only did get to prolong his humiliation for picking truth or dare, but he got to stare at your tits while you absent-mindedly arched your back, causing the buttons of your uniform to stretch against your chest.

"Ooh! Okay! I got it," you snapped back into reality and leaned forward, ruining Minho's view and his good time. "Truth or dare."

"Truth," Minho's response was almost automatic, choosing something safe for his first round.

"What..." you let the tension build as you placed your elbows on the table and then cradled your head in your palms, "is your cock size?"

Minho gagged a bit on nothing, not expecting you to be so forward and taking out the big questions on your first round. He cleared his throat and stared at you before awkwardly laughing

"Damn, really?"

"Why, too scared to respond?" You egged him on, sitting straight again and looking at him like he was a coward who refused to fight in a war.

"Not on the first round, no!" He defended.

"Well, then answer! May I remind you that you were the one who set the rules of the game!" You shot back. Minho leaned back and smiled at you as his face turned slightly red. He glanced away, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

Never, ever had you seen Minho blush. He was so flustered, genuinely embarrassed by your question! You would never admit it, but he looked kind of cute being so taken back as someone who was normally so forward.

Minho cleared his throat before muttering something.

"What was that?!" You shouted at him with a dramatic hand to your ear, hoping to catch what he said. Minho shot you a look in an attempt to scare you but to no avail. Instead, you looked back at him with a devilish grin. "I'm waittinggggg," you chanted in a sing-song voice.

"Seven inches, okay?!" He shot back, turning his head to you and making deadly eye contact. Your hands immediately flew to your mouth and your eyes shot wide, surprised at his confidence and the fact that he responded at all. Silenced crept in again before you shook your head in disbelief.

"No... way..." you whispered. "You are not packing that much, not you! No!" Minho nodded as your hands slowly held your heart, acting like someone who just heard the most tragic news.

"That's kind of a dick thing to say," he scolded you.

"I—I'm sorry, I'm genuinely just like... shocked I guess?" You laughed before you began blushing too. "Damn, good job!"

"I already regret encouraging you to play this game," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Does that mean you secede?" You questioned teasingly.

"No! Especially not after I told you my dick size," he said. "God, it's my turn anyway."

"Fine, fine," you gathered yourself, smoothing your skirt and beginning to loosen the school tie that made you feel claustrophobic. "Go for it." Minho thought for a second before looking back at you, his face finally losing its redness

"Truth or dare?"

"Seven inches..." you whispered.

"Y/N!!!" He shouted.

"Yes, fine!" You giggled. "Dare!"

Minho smirked at you. "Wrong choice." Suddenly, you felt your stomach become queasy. You didn't like the glimmer in his eye nor the way he licked his lips. You agreed with him: you had definitely made the wrong choice. Minho stared at you for a second longer, admiring how wide your eyes went at his words, enjoying how you realized that you have brought upon your own demise.

"Show me the most embarrassing thing you own," he stated with a nod.

Dread washed over you and your face became a deep red.

"No... please... anything but that..." you whispered out, flustered at the request. Minho just laughed.

"Though I love to hear you beg for mercy," he chuckled, "rules are rules. Are you going to comply, or are you going to take your punishment?" You felt your throat go dry at his words. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, huh? Either show him the thing you were most ashamed of or be subjected to a slave-like status, forced to do his bidding.

You went with the former.

Wordlessly, you rose from your spot and turned around to go to your bed across the room.

"Ooooo," Minho called. "I'm excited!!!"

"At least one of us is," you mumbled back loud enough for him to hear.

"What's Y/n's little guilty pleasure, hmm?" He teased, his playful tone ringing in your ears. You knew your shameful secrets, you just didn't want anyone else—especially your best friend—to know them, too. You sat beside your bed and bent down, reaching deeply underneath the frame to pull out something tucked closely to the wall. It took a long time to pull out what you were looking for, but Minho didn't mind: he was more engrossed in listening to your little groans and watching your skirt ride up your thighs, your back arching just enough to stick your backside out at him and have the bottom of your ass show. He licked his lips, hoping that you'd stay a little longer in the position as he felt his cock grow in his pants.

Sadly, you had found what you were looking for and shot back up. Your eyes gazed at the black shoebox in your hands, wondering if you were really going to complete this dare. Yet, Minho's words rang in your ears: are you going to comply, or are you going to take your punishment? It was obvious that feeling guilt now would be better than any future retribution.

You stood up and walked back to the table, sitting cross-legged on the floor and holding the box in your hands before looking back at Minho. His eyes were amused, enjoying your guilty expression and the flushed nature of your face.

"Don't tell me the biggest shame you own is an ugly pair of heels or some weed or something," he taunted, his frustrating giggles filling the room again.

Then, you remembered. Minho could still lose this game, and maybe your own boldness could scare him away. If your embarrassment couldn't get you to win, maybe your bravery could.

You smiled up at him, your expression quickly making suspicion replace his amusement.

Ripping the top of the box off, you flung the lid across the room and threw the container on the table, cascading papers across the surface and leaving the contents of the box on display.

Minho's eyes went wide and his face immediately became crimson again. He couldn't believe what his eyes were feasting on, unsettled by your sudden act of courage and the sudden tightness of his pants.

Various sex toys were displayed in front of him: dildos ranging from smaller sizes to enormous lengths, assorted vibrators with numerous settings and sizes, butt plugs, handcuffs, and flogs, just to name a few. Minho's felt uneasy by the sight, but also incredibly turned on.

Somehow, he was a bit angry too. Maybe it was because he knew that you had violated your pussy in countless ways before he's even had the chance to even taste you. Though the thought of you touching yourself with all these toys made him jealous, his mind also relished the fact that these toys had been used on you. He even briefly considered picking on up and licking it, choking on the fake cock, hoping to get a taste of your cunt that lingered on the silicone or glass.

Yet, to your eyes, he remained stagnant, supposedly shocked to stillness by the exposing state you just put yourself in. You laughed at his astounded expression.

"You can touch them if you want, by the way, " you giggled as you picked up your biggest cock. "They're clean. I always clean them after I use them." Minho's eyes followed you, watching you stroke the cock teasingly as if you were studying every artificial vein with the eye of an artist. Your finger traced the ridges of the dick before slamming it on the table, sticking the suction cup to the wooden surface and causing Minho to jolt back at the agility of your actions. He became hypnotized by the swaying phallus, fixating his eyes on it. Slowly, he tore his gaze away to watch you study the other contents of the box.

"You can always quit the game," you stated with a straight face before placing a glass dick along with a butterfly vibrator on the table. Minho shook his head, finally snapping out of his trance.

"What?!" he shouted, his face straight.

"Well, if you were shocked by my answer," you studied a glass butt plug before placing it back in its box, "then there's no saying how you'll react to the next questions I ask."

"Well... that's— I-I can't even—" Minho scoffed but it was obvious that he was still stumped by your reveal. Could he beat you in this game? He so desperately wanted to win, but he still had to survive his next turn, and then yours after. And, with what just happened, there's a possibility he can fail on your turn. Not to mention the hardness of his cock and the disappointment he feels knowing that your toys were clean and not coated in your juices clouded his mind.

However, he had to remain focused. His diligence had to override yours, he had to win this game as the defeat could be so bitter in so many ways. So, with a clearing of his throat and a wipe of his brow, he looked back at you who still examined your various toys and was beginning to put them away.

"It's my turn," he mumbled at you, making you acknowledge his existence for the first time in a bit. "Ask me: truth or dare."

You looked back at him for a second before placing the last toy back in the box and moving it to the side of the table, not placing the lid back on it and torturing Minho with a view of everything that had stuffed your pussy or ass or teased your clit and inevitably made you cum. It pained him to know that none of those toys were him, but he was pleased knowing that the size of your biggest dildo at least resembled the measurements of his cock. God, you knew his cock size now. He had thankfully forgotten for a brief second before the memories of minutes before came flooding back. Goddammit! Now he was hard thinking about you struggling to take it, having to work your way up to that size and still barely managing to squeeze it into your little pussy. Fuck, he had to focus!

Minho shook his head as he looked back at you, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind and avoid the box to his right. Your eyes showed your enjoyment of his suffering as you leaned on your hand, studying his expression just as you studied the toys moments before.

After a moment of silence, you finally spoke.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he immediately answered to his regret.

You laughed. Really laughed. Like, leaned back and cackled like a super villain.

Fuck. He made the wrong decision.

You stared back at him

"Let me see it," you stated.

"W... what are you talking about?"

"Your cock. Let me see it."

Okay, so Minho was surprised by you a few times already today.

But this took the cake.

"You wanna see my cock?"

You laughed out, yet his expression showed his true concern at your dare.

"Yeah You see, you're sporting seven inches hard, and I know for a fact that you're rock solid right now." Minho's embarrassment skyrocketed, horrified that you knew of the state of his cock and more worried that you might know that you were the one who caused it. "You always get that weird look whenever you have a boner, and I'm assuming seeing all these sex toys and maybe it just fucked with your male hormones or something."

Oh. Minho forgot for a second who he was talking to. Thank God you were too dumb to realize that it was what those toys represented that made him hard. That it wasn't the fact that there were just sex toys around, but that it was because he knew you used them. But, you always assumed that he was just like other guys. Even when you two went into that sex shop for shits and giggles one time, you supposed his awkwardness was because of all the fleshlights and pornstars on the wall. In reality, Minho couldn't handle the shop because everything made him think of you. Constricting you in that red harness which hung the wall, edging you for hours with that fat vibrator stuffed up your cunt, gagging you with the various ball-gags in the shop—it was all too much. With his mouth going dry and his pants unable to hide his growing hard-on, the shop quickly became an unsafe location for him. He left unexpectedly and you teased him for weeks after about it, starting a rumour that he was a prude and a virgin who couldn't handle even discussing sex— none of which being true. Minho didn't mind, however; he'd rather you'd think he was a stiff than a slag who was desperate to fill your holes with his fingers, cock, and toys. Plus, he was plenty happy with the happy fantasizing about you and all that stuff in the shop in his free time.

But now... this was different. Now, you were making him put his cards on the table, or fold. Either show you his cock or succumb to your whims, practically becoming your male odalisque instantaneously. Though at this point either option sounded insane to him, he still preferred to have the upper hand.

His eyes met yours, yours burned back into his, and he decided that it was time you saw how similar your larger toys were to him.

To your shock, Minho stood up and frantically began unzipping his dress pants, knowing that if he was too slow he'd psych himself out. His dress shirt came out next, Minho pulling it out of its previously neatly tucked form and freeing the wrinkled fabric. Then, with a single tug, his pants were just low enough to reveal the top of his boxers. Soon his cock would be out and he would be done this—

"STOP!" You yelped.

For the first time since he started undressing, Minho looked at you. Your expression was confusing, a mixture of holding back laughter and genuinely horrified.

"I..." you began, "I didn't think you'd actually do it... holy fuck you want to win." You began laughing loudly, making Minho pull up his pants to cover his boxers.

"You mean to tell me that you just wanted to see if I actually would do it?" he spat. "You dumbass this is literally truth or dare! If I don't comply I lose, you get that?!"

"Yes!" You laughed, "But I couldn't actually make you do it! I can't see your penis! I trust your seven inches and all but I don't want this to be how I see your dick, okay dude?"

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Minho argued back, aggressively zipping up his pants and crashing to the floor, pissed and ready to move on with the game.

You glanced away, "Nothing, don't worry. Just... let's move on okay? That counts as your turn."

"You're damn right that counts as my turn," he mumbled as he re-rolled his sleeves. "Can't believe I almost just showed my cock to win this fucking thing. Let's end this." You didn't like the sound of that. If Minho meant that and you just put him through hell, then what would he subject you to?! What diabolical things could he make you do, or make you admit to? Worse, what if you lose? Your mind starts to panic and you barely hear Minho speak those terrifying words.

"Y/N!" He shouted.

"What?!" You replied, snapping out of your worries.

"I said, 'Truth or dare?'" That stupid fucking mischievous smile came up on his face again.

No matter what you chose you were screwed. What could be worse: truth or dare? Goddamit!

"Truth... no, dare!" You corrected. "Wait..."

"Tick tock, y/n," he urged.

"Goddamit! Dare!" You shot back. "Final answer!"

You believed that this was the better choice. It was better to do something than have to admit to anything, right? Then you met his eyes again, the crescent moon shapes indicating his happiness at your choice.

...Ah.

Fucked. You were fucked.

"I want you," he leaned forward and shoved the box to his right onto the centre again, scattering some of your homework off the edge table, "to show me how you use these."

No. Fucking. Way.

Your immediate response was to laugh. Why wouldn't you? Being who he was, Minho was probably just getting back at you for the last dare you gave him. But why was he so worked up? You got him out of it and it was just a little prank. You didn't really want to see his cock because of a stupid dare, so he wouldn't want to watch you play with yourself in return turn.

Wouldn't he?

"I'm not joking, Y/N," Minho stated, straight-faced.

Your laughter was cut short, the room filling with silence.

"Oh God..." you mumbled. "You're actually serious, aren't you!?"

"You're damn right I'm serious," he replied. For the first time, Minho reached into the black shoebox and pulled out your toys. His imitation of you was impeccable, matching exactly how you studied the fake cocks and butt plug before placing them down in front of your still figure. As you watched his motions, a cocktail of fear, embarrassment, and overwhelming anxiety filled you. He was like a mob boss deciding what method of torture to use on you. "It's my turn. First, you show me these toys— some of which your perverted self probably bought when we hung out together at the mall and you snuck off! Then, you make me think you wanna see my cock, know what I'm packing, see if you can take it or some shit, and then make me stop?" He spat, "Heh. I don't fucking think so." He slammed down a vibrator on the table, making you shiver. You looked so small across from him, your nipples peaking through your shirt and your hands nervously fiddling with the edge of your skirt. Minho chuckled again. He knew what he was saying was on the money, that what he spoke wasn't an accusation, but a statement of fact.

"You're a bit scared, aren't you?" You nodded as a response, not daring to utter a word. He erupted in laughter. "Good! I hope you're terrified."

"M-Minho, you can't do this!" You protested, "I didn't make you show me your dick, I was just fooling around, but this is ridiculous! You can't make me—"

"Do you want to lose?" He shot back, quieting you instantly. "You know the consequences if you do." You did know. What would he make you do as retribution for your non-compliance? You dared not to think of it.

Instead, you occupied your mind with the various toys laid out in front of you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you began calculating the amount it all added up to. How much money have you spent on each one? How much time have you spent scouring the internet for them? How many hours have you spent using them? Unintentionally, your mind became filled again with the unbearable memories of how these toys made you feel, how you know they can make you feel, and how strangely good you felt after Minho's little speech just now. What the fuck were you going to do?

Finally, you glanced up at Minho's eyes, meeting them for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No," you said, "I don't plan on losing." Minho respected your courage, yet his smirk suggested he was calling your bluff.

The spread of the phallic objects and other various suggestive shapes in front of you gave you plenty of options, but you opted for the bunny vibrator, snatching it quickly and decisively so you couldn't hesitate on doing what you had to do.

"Fine choice," Minho muttered in response to your action. You rolled your eyes at him and then sat up on your knees, placing the vibrator beside you on the floor. You leaned forward slightly, giving Minho a perfect view of your cleavage from your unbuttoned top, though you took this position to attempt to give yourself some sense of privacy. Your hands ran up the back of your thighs tentatively, careful to not ride your skirt up too much. As your hands found the hem of your panties, you quickly pulled them down, not wanting to stay in this embarrassing position any longer. Minho let out a small yelp from across the table, indicating to you that he was excited by your exposure. Sitting back on your spread knees, you held your white lace panties between your thumb and index finger. Looking back at Minho, you saw him lick his lips and noticed his stiff posture. His cock was just as tense as the rest of his body and you knew it. You would enjoy how torturous this would be for him. You dropped your panties to your side. Picking up the vibrator on your other side, you looked up at Minho one last time before you would ruin any last shred of dignity you had remaining.

"Last chance to back out," Minho stated. Your face was just as blank as his, attempting to hide any lingering regret or the horniness either of you was experiencing.

You clicked the vibrator on, the low hum filling the room.

"I'm not backing out."

With your tongue already out, you placed the tip of the vibrator on the muscle and wet it with your spit. Minho took a deep inhale at the site, watching you hum slightly at the sensation. God, were you really going to do this? Both of you worried the same thing, wondering how far this game was going to go.

"Stop... stop teasing the tip," Minho said dryly. "Go on, show me how you work your little pretty pussy." Your heart tightened at the words, feeling stupid that your panties weren't there to absorb the wetness growing between your thighs.

"Let me take my time, Minho," you whispered back, making him moan lowly at your response. You chuckled at him. "Don't worry baby, I like it slow."

What had this game become between you two?

"If you take too long, you're going to lose by default," he responded, leaning forward, palms flat on the table and his hard-on clearly visible in his pants. He was getting antsy and it amused you, though you knew how serious your predicament was.

"That's not fair," you tutted, attempting to act dominant in a situation where you were clearly pitted against. "I can't do it right if I go too fast." You pouted slightly, letting the drool-covered vibrator buzz in your hands.

Minho shook his head, "Do it now or take your punishment."

Now it was your turn to gulp. He was serious.

You nodded, glancing down to your spread knees, your only privacy your school skirt, then at the buzzing bunny in your hands. Though you couldn't see him, you could feel Minho's look seethe into you, his breath heavy. At a snail's pace, your hands began to move the toy lower and lower. One hand parted from the object, caressing your thighs before lightly grasping the edge of your skirt. You pushed the hem higher and higher, raising the skirt to your mid-thighs as the toy continued pushing downward. Suddenly, you found Minho's hand touching yours, the one that held the vibrator, guiding it down to your cunt.

"C'mon, show me..." he whispered, a mixture of a beg and a demand. "I know you can, y/n."

His entire body was stretched across the table, face-to-face with you, noses and foreheads almost touching as you both stared down past your tits and tummy to the rising fabric with the vibrator as a guide. So close, the space closing and closing until finally your skirt was bunched so much it almost showed your soaked pussy. Minho could feel himself drooling, his hand upping the speed on the vibrator until it violently buzzed in his and your hands. Your chest rose and fell quickly with the speed of your breath, confusing Minho as he tried to watch your entire body at once. The toy now was only a few inches from you, your pussy still covered by your skirt, but one final movement and—

"WAIT!" You shouted, scaring Minho and causing him to collapse on the table and making you fall back. The vibrator was flung across the room and you scurried to cover yourself, pulling your skirt down. Minho groaned at the impact of the fall on his chest, his hand cradling his ribs as he closed his eyes in pain.

"Oh-oh my God, Minho!" You sputtered out, clamouring over to him and picking up his face in both of your hands and looking up at him. "I-I'm so sorry! Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Minho shook his head, "Uhh... fine, I think...." he slowly pushed off the table, sitting back against the wall and across the table from you again.

"I'm sorry about that," you quickly apologized, "I just got a little... I just think that dare was too much, maybe... I don't know... I—"

"Don't apologize," Minho looked up at you, sincerity deep in his voice. "It was intense, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

You opened your mouth to say something again, another apology you suppose, before shutting it and nodding, silently appreciating his understanding. Slowly Minho rose, stretching and rolling his neck back.

"Are you okay?" You asked. He nodded.

"I'm fine, just a little sore." He walked around a bit, stretching his legs that had almost fallen asleep from the long period of sitting on the floor. "Are you okay?" You nodded, watching him cross the room so now he stood across the carpet from you.

"Yes, I'm fine." Minho nodded at your response and then looked down beside him to the humming bunny. The buzzing hadn't ceased: the vibrator still bounced aggressively beside him. He looked down at it then at you.

Abruptly, you became extremely embarrassed. God, what the fuck did you just do!? Minho smiled at your reddening face before bending down to pick up the toy. He shut it off and then looked up at you, waving the toy in your direction. With a smirk, he tossed it back in the box before sauntering over to you and sticking his hand out. The last of your pride was already torn to shreds after that debacle, you might as well let him help you up. You grabbed his hand and jumped up with the support. Yet, you didn't realize that your legs had fallen asleep, and you stumbled into Minho. Quickly grasping the small of your back while his other hand remained intertwined with yours, Minho caught you and let you stumble into him.

It was quiet for a moment, the seconds passing as you stood like two dancers frozen in a performance. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. Then, he ruined the moment.

"You won't be fine for long," he whispered. Confusion hit you first, then, after a brief moment of thinking, you realized what his words meant. Horror swept across your face.

"I... I lost..." you muttered.

"Yep," Minho said, his hand rubbing your back, "and I won."

You gulped. "What will you make me do?"

Minho chuckled, "Nothing too bad." His hand continued to stroke your back, calming you in this moment of terror. "Just want to show you off, is all." The sound of that made your knees weaker than they already were.

His hand began to rub lower and lower down your torso before caressing the curve of your ass through your skirt. You hiccuped at the feeling, realizing how close you two were with him holding you like this. Minho leaned into you, lips touching the curve of your ear.

"Do you feel me, y/n?" He asked, "Do you feel how good you make you feel?" You did. It was undeniable that you felt him through his pants. He was still so hard, aching to be buried in you, and you realized how much you actually would enjoy his seven inches, the slight curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. You were a fool to think that it was just the toys and all that stuff getting Minho hard: it was you.

You tightened your grip on him.

"W-What will you make me do, Minho?" You asked again, hoping that it wouldn't be as embarrassing as this moment was.

"I know exactly what I want. Do you know what you want, y/n?" he asked, his breath tickling your ear. You buried your face in his neck.

"I don't know..." Your voice came out as a hushed mumble, your shyness making him smile. He could be sweet if he wanted, ease your self-consciousness and feed your begs by letting you not experience the suffering he had in store.

But Minho wasn't nice. He wasn't sweet and only was if he wanted to be. And right now, it seemed like charity was the furthest thing on his mind.

"You look so pretty right now, without your panties on," Minho's hand slowly bunched your skirt up, clasping the fabric underneath his wrist as his fingers played with and caressed your ass. Whimpering at his touch, you realized how wet you still were, how much you needed him. That almost went away with the words he spoke next.

"I wonder if you want everyone else to see you like this." The world stopped for a moment, fear freezing your body.

"...what?" you muttered, glancing at him.

Minho hummed, "I wonder how long you could stand not wearing panties." Minho pulled back his hand from your back and moved away from you, making you ache to feel his cock again. He cupped your chin and forced you to face him "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby?" You were too stunned to speak. Could he really make you do that? What would happen if you didn't comply?

"Minho... please.." you begged. Minho chuckled and separated away from you, making you drag your reach out for him. He walked towards the table and started gathering his homework in his bag, picking up every last scattered paper that was his.

"Now, now, y/n you knew the rules and you still obeyed," he tutted. "Tomorrow at school: no underwear, shorts, tights: anything. I don't want anything covering your pussy or your thick ass." He looked up at you, staring deeply into your wide eyes. "I want to be able to bend you over any time I want and enjoy the view." He looked down to check if he had forgotten anything, and he did. The white lace of your panties peaked through a flipped-over notebook, almost escaping his searching gaze. Minho picked them up gingerly, smirking at you as he stood up straight. Balling them up and sniffing them lightly, Minho basked in your scent before dropping them in his bag and zipping it tightly shut. "You won't be needing these, will you, y/n?" He asked. "You'll get them back when you've been good."

He walked up to you and patted you on the head before bending down and meeting your eyes. You had said nothing, stunned to a motionless figure at what was happening.

"But..." you muttered out, meeting his eyes. "But I've been good..."

"Not good enough," he laughed out. With a lean, he kissed the top of your forehead before patting you again. He stood straight and walked past you. Your gaze followed him towards the door of your bedroom, watching him turn the knob and swing the door open. Before taking another step, he stopped and turned back towards you.

"See you tomorrow, y/n!" Happiness and monotony layered his voice, making one think that what just happened was a regular occurrence and that what was to come wasn't out of the ordinary either. Minho turned again and walked out, closing the door behind him and beginning his journey home.

Silence filled the room as you looked at the mess around you before turning back towards the shut door.

"Tomorrow... no panties... nothing..." you recited. Your mouth was dry and you felt lightheaded. Oh, fuck... what were you going to do?!

"See you tomorrow, Minho."

continued in part 2

#skz smut #stray kids smut #leeknow smut #lee minho smut #skz leeknow smut #skz leeknow #skz minho #stray kids minho #leeknow x y/n #leeknow x reader #perv!leeknow

[itsclydebitches]

I'm hearing secondhand (so someone correct me if I'm wrong) that the "Don't Come Back" is directed at Ironwood and I'm really just trying to wrap my head around this? First of all, there appears to only be one large gravestone, so I assume this is a list of all the names of those known to have died in Atlas—Ironwood included. That would explain why Winter's internal dialogue is talking to Team RWBY right before she uses her powers (I think?) to write the message and the animation note that Qrow is (lovingly) wiping dust off of the names. It looks like there's a list and, after most everyone else has left the ceremony, Winter is just desecrating Ironwood's name.

Which is... really something. I don't use the term "desecrating" lightly. Putting aside the fact that Ironwood was an ally, friend, and mentor for years vs. being a villain for a matter of hours—I always think back to how Ozpin still wanted to protect Lionheart's name despite his betrayal. That love doesn't just up and disappear—that's a HELL of a disrespectful act. Contextually, I'd feel different if this message had been left by some random Mantle citizen who has neither the full story nor any personal connection to Ironwood, but as said, it looks like Winter is leaving it. I'd also potentially feel differently if this clip didn't a) re-frame Clover as worthy of a fond remembrance despite his own (supposed) fall and b) if Willow and Whitley weren't traipsing around the city their family has historically screwed over, with Whitley talking about how he refuses to hide. The recent implosion of the Titan sub has sparked a lot of conversation about whether billionaires deserve to be mourned post-death and, more generally, when suffering hardships. I'm not going to try and hash out my own complicated feelings on that in a RWBY post, but suffice to say I'd better understand it if the show had taken a clear stance on whether powerful, obscenely wealthy, military-aligned characters as a whole deserve compassion. Winter the emotional center of the epilogue, Willow is meant to inspire sympathy when her charity leads to accusations, Whitley should presumably be praised for his courage in embracing who he is, Clover is mourned by Qrow and implied to be the source of his miraculous self-improvement, Marrow is now a friend, all these characters who embody all that RWBY despises are granted that forgiveness... but the man who no longer can try to improve himself isn't? This feels like the most egregious example of RWBY's moral double standards since Ruby herself started repeating Ozpin's lies.

So there's this level of disrespect towards Ironwood as a character that, really, is no surprise given how he's been treated since Volume 8, but even beyond that it's a weird moment. How did Ironwood's name end up on the tombstone if Winter—who as the Maiden leading these refugees into Vacuo and continuing to take point in these "meetings" must surely have had a say in these memorials—was just going to desecrate it? It feels like the writing included Ironwood there not because any of the characters actually fought to properly mourn him, but because they wanted the setup for the message itself; the actual implications of him being on the tombstone at all go unacknowledged and, as a result, are unimportant. The only takeaway is that circumstances provide the perfect opportunity to insult his memory. On top of all this, what does that message even mean? As said, it's a weird-ass moment because who blasts their enemy with their magic powers, watches him get crushed and drowned under the destruction of an entire kingdom... and then tells him not to "come back"? It's such a specific, seemingly illogical insult—within the context of what Winter knows—especially when other, more generic insults would have gotten the point across. If I were to visit someone's grave to desecrate it (which, you know, I don't lol) I wouldn't write "Don't come back" because they're dead. Of course they're not coming back! Why would that even enter my mind as something to warn them against?

All of which is to say I worry that, like Penny, RT is planning a resurrection for Ironwood. The writers have a well-established habit of writing scenes based on what they know, not what the characters know or what's been established in canon, so there's a part of me that wonders if that message was chosen because they're planning a miraculous survival with, unfortunately, Villain!Ironwood 2.0. They already know they plan for him to return if Volume 10 is greenlit and thus that influences Winter's actions.

Regardless of Ironwood coming back or not, it's just a disappointing scene on every front for me. I understand that a lot of fans despise Ironwood and, much like with Adam, are inclined to accuse others of not getting the story they want (a version that is framed as objectively bad + morally wrong), but can we just acknowledge that regardless of how you feel about him, the writers haven't treated Ironwood well? You can make Ironwood a villain. You can kill him off. You can even have the other characters despise him so much that they desecrate his part of a communal grave. But when you consider that many fans really like his character and then compare him to how others are treated in the series, how RT talks about him, how the community responds to anyone who enjoys his long run in the show... it's staggeringly clear that, no, his character has not been treated well and that's what people remain upset over. Not that any of these plot points occurred, but that they've occurred with none of the setup and nuance and respect needed to make them compelling for anyone who doesn't just want to rail against Ironwood as a matter of course. That should be understood for any character, but Ironwood's unique status as a triple amputee with PTSD and a semi-canonical mental illness-based semblance makes that lack of respect all the more galling. RT doesn't have to do anything specific with their story, but if they're going to go this route at least do it with purpose and do it well.

It doesn't help that Ruby, the one who actually destroyed the Kingdom and whose message was logically supposed to bring deadly waves of grimm and who started this whole divide by perpetuating the secrets she despised Ozpin for, is given martyr-like murals. Like, it's a strong visual contrast. I'm not saying Ruby doesn't deserve to be mourned and celebrated—I want Qrow to actually act like he lost two family members!—I'm saying the show continues to treat the protagonists as ethically separate from the rest of the world and the rules that everyone else must adhere to.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

[pigeonwit]

these two seemed like your vibes: pizza place au and magic au :3

URBAN FNATASY MY BEST FRIEND URBAN FANTASY

(gonna be clear - when i hear 'magic' my brain goes 'dnd' so this is very much a 'fantasy high' style universe.)

(also jupes how long did you spend on the randomizer trying to get a good combination. i know you're a perfectionist jupes there's no way you got those right away.)

Alright, here’s where we start – it’s been about a year or two since Race bought this stupid elemental-powered oven (on a whim) and this is the third time they’ve needed the fire elementals to be replaced. It seems like every couple of months, the fire spirits die down into flickers, and it takes a whole day to cook just one pizza all the way through.

Of course, Jack would rather die than hire the Delancey’s again – every time they’re in the shop, it’s like all his hair is on end. They only ever solve the problem, never fix it, and Jack can’t prove it, but he’s certain they’re scamming them. So, he goes to look up other mechanics who specialize in magical tech, and stumbles across Jacobs Artificers. Not much information about them – their website is awful, very ‘graphic design is my passion’, and it burns Jack’s eyes to look at it – but their reviews are great, and their evaluations are free, so it sounds like a decent idea.

Enter Davey, wearing cuffed jeans, a tank-top that was probably once white but has gone permanently grey with time, and a burned, bleach-stained, poison-damaged flannel. He’s skinny, weedy, and doesn’t look like any artificer Jack’s ever seen. He’s doubtful, to say the least.

oOo

“So…” Davey as he leans over the oven. “How long have these guys been acting up?”

“Since we got it.” Jack mutters, pointedly not looking at what those ratty jeans are doing to this scrawny wannabe-mechanic’s ass. “This is third time we’ve had to replace it in a year.”

Davey pops his head out of the oven like a rabbit – there’s already soot on his face, a little smear right on his nose, and Jack refuses to find it cute.

“For an elemental oven?”

“Fuckin’ rip off, what can I say?” Race shrugs. Davey frowns, nibbles his lip between his teeth.

“They really shouldn’t be acting up so much…”

He emerges with a tiny fire-spirit resting on his palm – although ‘fire’-spirit is probably too generous a term. The elemental’s mostly smoke and ember at this point, barely any bigger than a candle – and the mechanic’s jaw drops.

“What the hell have you been feeding these things?!” He snaps, rearing towards them like a wild animal. Race takes a panicked step back, holding his hands up in a weak surrender.

“I – pizza?” He squeaks. Davey’s face goes incredulously slack.

“Pizza?” He says incredulously. “I – that’s it, pizza? Just pizza? These spirits are emaciated, they’re dying-!”

“You don’t feed elementals!” Jack tries to protest. “They’re elementals. They feed when they burn, don’t they?”

“Feed when – but – I don’t…” Davey rakes a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes heavenwards as if in prayer over the sheer stupidity of the men before him. “Okay, let’s start over here – who told you that?”

“The Delan-” Jack’s eyes widen as he says it. He trails off, his whole body going stiff and fuming, and Davey’s fury seems to calm just slightly.

“The Delancey’s?” He asks tentatively.

Race nods, still hanging his head like a kid who got scolded. Davey sighs, looking just a little bit sorry for them.

“Okay.” He sighs. “Okay, so you – yeah. I see what the problem is now. One moment.”

He raises the fire elemental to his face and whispers something Jack can’t hear. The spirit coughs a little and bounces its flame as if nodding. Davey smiles, cups his gloved hands over the little candle-flame – and his eyes glow a bright, burning blue, like the center of a welding flame, as motes of fire lick over his leather gloves.

“Jesus-!” Race shrieks, leaping backwards, but Jack pays him no mind. He’s too lost in the fire in Davey’s eyes, the slight movements of his lips, as he holds the fire spirit between his hands.

(Perhaps Jack’s a romantic, but it looks almost like prayer.)

The fire flickers away. Tentatively, Davey walks to the oven and uncups his palms – he only needs to separate them an inch when a rocket of fire shoots into the oven, bouncing off the brick walls as flames spread to its smoking, flickering brethren – and soon, the entire oven is alight with roaring elementals.

Davey closes the door behind him, waving bashfully as the fire spirits chatter at him in a language of crackling embers – Jack can hear him whispering to them, bashful little “okay, yes – oh, you’re welcome – no, I have to go now, thank you – okay, bye, buh-bye-!” – until they’re closed behind the iron door.

Davey turns to where Jack and Race gape at him.

“Okay. I cannot emphasize this enough; you did not hear this from me.”

Jack and Race glance at each other, then nod sheepishly. Davey claps his hands together like a teacher.

“The Delancey’s-” he tips his hands forward- “are con-artists.”

oOo

According to Davey, the Delancey’s have made a business for themselves by catching rogue elementals, forcing them into cheap machinery unsuited to their magic, and then selling them at a high mark-up as genuine elemental-tech. Not only that, but they’ve also made a pretty successful side-hustle of allowing the elementals they sell to fizzle out over time so that they can be re-hired to replace them – they then take the elementals they’re replacing, load them up on just enough fuel to keep them going, and then wait until the next elementals fizzle out to replace them with the exact same elementals they already took out. The elementals that Jack and Race have in their oven – supposedly the third replacement lot of elementals they’ve had so far – are the same elementals they started out with.

oOo

Jack can only cover his ears as Race all but screams in what can only be described as a pile-up of about fifteen different curses.

“Oh, those little-!” He flaps his hands, paces a few steps in one direction, then the other, then rakes a hand through his hair. “Fucking God damn it- Jack, where’s the phone? Where’s the – there-!”

Jack lurches the phone over his head as Race lunges for it. He growls behind his teeth and makes a few leaps for it, like a dog jumping for its prize.

“Jesus, what’re you gonna do, Race, sue ‘em?!”

“I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna get DOME on their asses so quick-!”

 “Defense of Magical Entities?”

They both stop their squabbling long enough to realize that oh, yes, Davey is, in fact, still here. He’s watching them both with a quirked brow, a slight smile toying at his mouth. Jack swallows.

“You’re welcome to try, but I’m not sure it’ll do much good. I have a buddy, she’s pretty high up there – according to her, every case against them gets thrown out. I’m thinking they have someone in civil court, but-”

“We didn’t hear that from you.”

Davey shoots Race a finger-gun.

“Exactly.” He winks – Jack’s stomach flips. “Look, I have an old elemental-oven in my workshop – second hand, doesn’t cost too much, and you’ll get way more efficiency from your elementals. Y’know, as long as you feed ‘em.”

Race grits his teeth as Jack cringes a little, both still a little embarrassed that they’d been apparently starving their elementals for months.

“Um…” Race mumbles into his collar. “I dunno if we can afford that and elemental replacement…”

Davey cocks his head, a mop of dark curls tumbling over his brow. Jack can feel his wrist twirling at his side, mimicking how he might move his brush to capture those little flicks and corkscrews.

“Replacement?” Davey glances towards the elementals still roaring away in their oven. “There’s nothing to replace. These guys’ll do just fine.”

oOo

They settle the payment for the new oven, and Davey sets it up for them the following day. I could not be bothered to write this, since the ask game did specify ‘snippets’ and I’ve already written far too much for that.

oOo

“Uh…” Jack coughs into his fists, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floors. “You’re, uh – you’re not gonna report us to DOME, are ya?”

Davey looks up from his work and smirks, wrinkling his nose playfully.

“Thought about it.” He shrugs. “But it does seem like an honest mistake. You were working off of misinformation, after all. And besides…” He shoots a glance at the pile of kiln-dried cedar logs stacked against the wall (because Race is nothing if not consistently irresponsible with Jack’s money-). “I think you’re making up for it.”

Jack sighs, his whole body sinking in relief.

“You’re a gem.”

Davey’s grip slips on one of the pipes he’s fastening – a little flicker of fire-elemental seeps out from the gap, which he lunges to catch with a strangled yelp.

“Um – speaking of DOME!” Davey laughs awkwardly as he stuffs the elemental back into its pipe. “My friend, the one I told you about? She’s trying to build a case on the Delancey’s, something ironclad that can’t just get dismissed – you mind if I send her your way?”

“Sure.” Jack shrugs. “What’s her name?”

“Saoirse Conlon – she goes by Spot sometimes? I-If I could just get a contact number-” Davey stiffens, his whole face going suddenly red. “I – not that I – y’know, just – an address works, I’ll just give her the address-!”

Jack hands him a business card, hoping Davey won’t notice the second one he’s tucked underneath until it’s too late.

oOo

Race absolutely rags on Jack for giving the hot artificer his number, but it’s okay – Jack gets his own back when Race becomes absolutely humiliatingly head-over-ass smitten with the hot beast-master ranger.

#i got. way too invested in this. this is so long #anywhore #newsies #uksies #livesies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs #pigeon scribbles #javey #ask #rebuke-me

[knightprincess]

Forgive Me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 13

Note: Season 7 & TBB Echo Words: 1.1K Warning: None

"Just like old times" commented Rex, affectionately patting Echo on the shoulder before boarding the Marauder. The rescue mission had been a success, they'd freed Echo from his long-standing imprisonment and helped defend the village of the natives. Echo could only sigh as he looked to the towers in the distance, as he accepted the truth for what it was. Nothing was going to be the same as before. How could it be? He was different, the blast at the Citadel had damaged his body, and the Techno Union had played havoc with his mind, using his strategic skills to the advantage of the separatists and forcing him to serve the enemy. 

On top of that, he had so much guilt for what he'd been forced to do, all the times he'd cost his brothers their precious lives. Yet despite his best attempts to ignore the glaringly obvious, he knew Fives was gone. He knew the other Arc Trooper would have been right there at Rex's side, being the first to voluntarily break the rules, as they did so many times as a cadet. He knew there was a chance others he called friends and brothers were gone too. The only question was if he was responsible for their deaths, as he held himself accountable for so many others. 

As Echo boarded the modified attack shuttle, his thoughts turned to (Y/N). Silently he questioned if she was still with the GAR let alone serving with the 501st. He wondered if she'd found the love she searched for if she was happy or even remembered him. At the same time, he tried to think of ways to thank her. The moments he was conscious during his captivity, she'd both kept him company and been his weapon to defend against the Techno Union. Snap had become the hope that kept him going, the reason he continued his fight. 

"Is Snap still ..." trailed Echo, finding himself unable to complete his question. Rex came to sit at his side, a small grin creeping across his lips. The legendary captain knew she'd be waiting eagerly for their return. Anakin could only watch on, wishing he could be so open for his love for Padme, yet also recognize the love Echo had for the talented medic for the gift it truly was. The remaining members of the Bad Batch, on the other hand, tried to ignore the conversation, finding it wasn't their place to say anything. Even when all of them had built a friendship with her. 

"She's on Anaxes, waiting for our return" announced Anakin, confirming (Y/N) was still working with the GAR and still beloved by the many troopers. Although the general failed to mention just how much she'd changed, she'd become cold to several Jedi over the years, particularly those who refused to treat clones as the living beings they were. Many a time Snap blurted out what she was thinking, but she'd also prevented some troopers from getting into fights with those who so often looked down upon them. 

"Me and some of the boys have been teaching her to use a blaster" commented Rex, recalling it was Wolffe's idea to train her to use the smaller blasters, he made the notion after it became clear Octavious wasn't going to leave her be. Cody had seconded it, with the three of them and Jesse helping to train her, during their spare time. Kix made a comment about how she could kick their asses and patch them up. 

"Sounds like a dangerous combination" replied Echo, recalling Jesse's mention of the idea before, Fives had agreed with it, saying it would give them peace of mind. Once again Echo signed, he longed for the day of rescue, to see his brothers again and reunite with Snap, to selfishly tell her everything he should have back then. But he couldn't push away the drowning thoughts. What if Snap had moved on and found someone else? What if she saw him now and rejected him? What if she'd changed and no longer cared? Had Snap changed? 

"We're prepared to be dragged kicking and screaming for the customary check-up" jokingly spoke Hunter, Anakin could only nod from his spot near the communications panel. Crosshair countered Hunter's comment with a simple "Speak for yourself". The comment managed to pull a small chuckle from Wrecker and launch Tech into a lecture about it being mandatory. The simple exchange reminded Echo of the relationship he'd shared with Fives, Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase before the Citidal, Hevy, Droidbait, and Cutup before that. 

"Snap will be thrilled to see you Echo, she's not been the same since the Citidal mission" reassuringly voiced Anakin while confirming Echo's suspicions the war had changed (Y/N) as well. Something that wasn't surprising to anyone who'd experienced any part of the war firsthand. "She'll be the medic checking all of us over" laughed the Jedi Knight, the way Hunter and Tech both turned to Crosshair with identical I told you so expressions not going unnoticed. 

"What happened with the bill the senate was trying to pass? Civvi medics protection ..." trailed Rex, recalling hearing rumors about it some time ago. Snap had made it clear she didn't need protection, as it would only serve to distract those around her and give her someone else to patch up when something inevitably went wrong. Anakin and Obi-Wan had both given her identical dad looks, the same kind any parent would give a disobeying child. 

"They passed it weeks ago" replied Anakin, recalling there'd been some trouble convincing Snap to accept the protector or find someone up for the task outside of the undesirable option of Octavius. "Wolffe and Gregor volunteered as Snap's protectors until a permanent solution can be found. Pretty sure Gregor has more fun winding her up" commented the hero of the republic, recalling the number of times he'd seen Gregor purposely winding (Y/N) up lately, Wolffe did as well when he was around, but more often than not he took his duty seriously. Normally scaring some poor soul off when both were on shore leave. 

"She has an army of big brothers" voiced Echo, a small chuckle escaping him. Although he didn't voice the follow-up comment suggesting the civvi medic was the toughest one. "Is Octavius still in the GAR?" asked the Arc Trooper, recalling hearing whispers he'd joined the GAR before, Rex and Anakin both nodded, whereas Wrecker frowned, suggesting members of the batch had come across the rude cryptographer. No doubt they experienced the same treatment as other clones before and after them, if not worse treatment due to their irregular appearance and abilities. 

"Her sister Isolde was among the ranks as well. Like Snap in the medical field. She was assigned to the medical station near Naboo" announced Anakin, recalling crossing paths with the ghastly woman, her entitled behavior, and main character syndrome doing little in the way of good bedside manners. Even the Kaminoans had shuddered at her endless audacity and unfavorable behavior, as had the brashest of senators. 

Masterlist

#star wars fanfiction #echo x medic reader #arc trooper echo #x reader fanfic #female reader #x reader #star wars the clone wars #the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #anakin skywalker #part 13

[asukamood]

Snap

I am back again with a one-shot that has something to do with the AT used in Loneliness and Normal day for two married idiots in love-

But before I start my explanation on some l o r e , the warnings.

Warnings: Violence, child abuse (which includes neglect, physical, sexual [this one is so implicit you wouldn’t be able to tell it’s here] and mental abuse), pedophilia as a result and murder.

As I’ve said before, the priest is still (very unfortunately) alive and had taken in Dream and Nightmare when they were 8. The difference with canon here is that the Priest is a pedophile and has tried things but failed which is why he’s also the cause of Dream and Nightmare’s insomnia as well as the last one’s genophobia. He is also the creator of an orphanage for which he has donated money to improve those orphans’ lives but unknown to the general public, he is using that very money to increase his wealth, any changes done to the orphanage come from Dream and Nightmare’s incomes when they started to work.

He is also very manipulative and wants to control the duo’s lives, he had gotten his hands on their bank accounts whenever he wanted and as we’ve said before, also sold them off for marriage when they reached 24 and their popularity was at its peak. Dream also used to date Ani, who was at the time still in the hospital, but unfortunately, the Priest killed them and the murder came off as an accident on the medical staff’s part.

Eventually, Dream got all the evidence necessary to send him in jail and this story happens right after his imprisonment.

Enjoy.

***

“What do you think he wants from us this time?” Nightmare asked, leaning on the grey wall of the police station with his arms crossed around his chest. His pupils had moved to look at his childhood best friend who stood besides a potted plant on the opposite wall.

“I don’t know.” Dream shrugged, eyes scanning over a text on his phone. “He probably wants us to get him out of jail or something.” The other snorted in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes.

“If that’s what he’s planning to do, then he can shove that demand up his ass.” Dream’s eyes looked up at him in a disapproving manner.

“We’re in the police station Nightmare, please watch your profanity.” Nightmare scoffed, playing with his nails absently.

“Whatever.”

“Mister Von Dunkheilt and Mister Von Licht?” A female cop stepped out, a questioning look on her face.

“Yes.” Dream responded, nodding. The policewoman backed away from the door, hand gesturing for them to go in.

“He has been transferred to this room, you may go in.” Nightmare and Dream glanced at each other before walking inside the dull and dark room, not a speck of dust in sight.

The walls had no identity, they were plain and clean, like a house that has yet to be used. The room was pretty much closed to the outside world because of the obvious lack of exits. There were no windows to reflect the light of the sun, only the lamps fixated to the ceiling illuminated the room.

A single metal door could grant one either entrance or exit to this place. Surely, a claustrophobic person would hate standing inside of it. The fact that they were being watched from the glass wall by two buffed policemen didn’t quite make things any better but this arrangement will have to do. Another one stood by the closed door, ready to intervene if anything were to happen.

The room could also be said to be devoid of furniture, if we ignore the single iron table lying in the center of the room, surrounded by three chairs. One of them, opposing the other two, was occupied by the priest himself, his cuffed hands put on top of the table in clear view.

Nightmare almost gagged upon seeing him but remained silent still. The duo were encouraged to sit down in front of the criminal but Dream politely refused on both of their behalf.

“It’s fine, we’re okay standing up.” The cops nodded carelessly, they were paid to make sure none of them died, not to care about whatever was about to happen in this room.

Then the room fell into an awkward silence. A long awkward silence.

Of the three of them, Nightmare was the first to lose his patience. “So what did you make us come here for?” He spat out, clearly not pleased to be here. “We all have agendas here and I would like to move on to mine.”

Dream nodded, actually surprised his friend was able to stop himself from adding a bad word in there. “I have an appointment 45 minutes from now, I would appreciate it if it doesn’t take up the entire day.”

Ever since they arrived, the man had never laid his eyes upon them and the moment he opened his mouth was no exception. “I…” A sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Pause.

A very long pause.

Nightmare’s eyebrows furrowed in anger once the meaning of the man’s words was processed. How fucking dare he? Apologizing isn’t gonna do shit. The short man was about to let the older one hear a piece of his mind before he was interrupted by Dream.

“Sorry? Sorry?” He repeated twice, the first time with a neutral voice and the second with venom as he stepped closer to the cuffed man. “You’re not sorry for anything apart from getting caught.”

His hands curled themselves in tight fists, shaking with anger. “Not sorry for ruining our lives…” He sneered through gritted teeth, nails digging into his palms so hard they cut through the skin, blood droplets dropping to the floor in little crimson ponds.

“For letting these children die from cold and starvation as you used their money to fill your own fucking bank account…” Now his whole body was shaking, voice laced with hardly contained anger.

“Not for letting everyone shower you with praise as you made all of our lives hell…”

He arrived right in front of the table, pushing the chairs out of his way. The sound of his blood splattering on the ground served as a background noise for his actions.

“AND NOT FOR FUCKING KILLING THEM.” He yelled this time, releasing his fists before grabbing the former priest’s head and smashing it on his own cuffs.

Nightmare watched from the sidelines the scene unfolding in front of him bewildered, he’s known Dream ever since they were toddlers but he could safely say that he had never seen him act this angry or violent before. Now that he thought about it, he had never really seen Dream angry. Annoyed? Yes. Mad? Not really.

He was known for being patient and the most mature of the two, behaving well despite not agreeing to one’s actions or ideals. He had never stepped out of line, instead letting his childhood friend cause chaos in his stead before half heartedly scolding him about it.

Even Nightmare himself was impressed by how long he stuck around despite the two of them practically being polar opposites. One was a crazy gremlin with an endless thirst for annoying people while the other was a calm and composed person with a hunger for order.

That’s why he was so stunned to see him act like this, he had never snapped to anyone before, simply sighing and going on with his day in normal terms but this time was different.

“YOU’RE THE MOST DISGUSTING FUCKING HUMAN BEING TO HAVE EVER BEEN GIVEN BIRTH TO!” He repeatedly smashed his forehead against the metal cuffs to the rhythm of his words until blood leaked out.

“THEY DESERVED TO LIVE YOU BASTARD, THEY WERE FINALLY STARTING TO GET BETTER!” The tears that streamed out his face contrasted with the pure fury in both his irises and voice. It's funny, now that the roles swapped and Dream was the one hurting the religious figure, he still remained the one crying.

“AND THAT DOESN’T APPLY TO JUST ANI, THE CHILDREN, THE ORPHANS, US!” The policeman at the door yelled at Dream to release the man but he was unresponsive, the order drowned out by his anger and voice.

“WE DIDN’T DESERVE ANYTHING THAT YOU’VE MADE US GO THROUGH AND NOW YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO APOLOGIZE?!” He let go of his face and sent the table flying to the left, throwing himself on the priest before punching him hard with a war cry.

“SORRY ISN’T GONNA HEAL THE TRAUMA YOU FUCKER! ROT IN HELL!” After that, the cop forcefully yanked the lawyer away from the priest who was basically screaming from the pain.

Dream wasn’t weak, he could hold up well in a fight, but at the moment he seemed possessed because of how tough it was to keep him in place. He let out a frustrated animalistic wail as he wriggled in the policeman’s hold.

He was so strong in fact that the cop’s colleagues from behind the glass wall had to join him in holding the man static. Nightmare watched this all, unable to move. He had a lot of trouble identifying this man fighting like a devil as his friend.

After that accident, he and Dream walked away from the police station to go back home as soon as possible. Dream didn’t utter a word on the way back, glossy eyes fixated on his shoes.

#dreamswap #ds dream #angst #ds nightmare #ds ani #platonic #platonic sweammare #fmaa2

[thetruthaboutnolan]

SO HOW DID THE ‘YOU HATE WOMEN’ STUFF START?

Honestly, I was trying to keep the actual origin of that a secret and just mention how inaccurate it is. But why the hell not. That pathetic train of thought started because I wouldn’t smut with someone’s female character. I have to have my consent to have sex ignored because someone wanted to fuck my character. Literally that’s what started it. Some honor person that was obsessed with the face claim I had been using was mad I wouldn’t have my character have sex with her character.

Bear in mind all my characters are like me. Generally labeled as bisexual but they are actually biromantic and homosexual (no not saying I’m homosexual now morons, try to keep reading if you can) or in other words, they develop feelings for men and women as well as masculine or feminine presenting non-binary individuals. They will even fall in love with them. However, they only have sex with men. And instead of respecting that, people would rather bully me, force my character and violate them and myself just to get their socks off with my face claim. Apparently it’s ok to force someone into having sex with you and if they don’t want to be force into sex, well that means they hate women. Since you know, consent is apparently not a thing if it’s a man you want to have sex with.

It was rather sexist and gave minor predatory vibes that as a man, mine and my character’s consent wasn’t something that matter. I had to ship and smut with women if one approached me or I was sexist. And it was apparently fine if a woman was trying to force her character onto mine. If this was the other way around, the exact same actions and everything you can bet it wouldn’t go down the way it did with me. I also have never been someone that smuts often. I do it yeah and I’ve even joined smut groups but even on those my character is the type that needs to be wined, dined, and feel like the prettiest princess in all the land before he takes his pants off.

This was the narrative during that bullshit time when someone not wanting to fuck someone else made them whatever buzz word you could think of. When it became clear that forcing someone to have sex with you was wrong, they moved on to “not having sex with women=not posting with women=hates women”. Of course they failed to realize that this makes it clear they only want to have sex and post sex if “no sex with this gender” equaled “ never into posting with said gender” maybe they don’t see that until it’s spelled out to them? Who knows.

It just stuck and when they claim I don’t post with female characters I just link the like 12 threads I have with female characters and then the finished threads I have with them. But arguing and proving someone wrong especially if they identify as female means I hate women to so….. yeah.

Bear in mind this is only a small percentage of those I’ve interacted with. I have done some great romances with female characters in the past. I have had a few also disrespect my consent again and they probably added to the ‘Nolan hates women because he won’t smut with them’. Now keep in mind there is one fanficition writer obsessed with a certain shadow hunter who claims I was also some muppet fan guy who was heavily predatory to the female mind on her group. Her group she could decide if it was on tumblr or jcink and the year she had it open. And yet I’m also the guy that completely ignored and refused to smut or post with women…… yeah.

It’s also interesting that 99% of the people that stalk me and have issues with me are female or identify as such. 99% of their issues with me involve me either not smutting with their female characters or getting even a friendship between my bisexual character and a bisexual character they were interested in romancing. Since you know, two bisexual men can’t be just friends, they always wanna sleep with each other or something. And the rare time being my character was a smart ass to their character despite most of my characters are degrees of smart ass.

Basically it’s all to deal with not letting them force me into sex and and refusing to give consent for them to violate my character just because they wanna smash uglies with them.

HAVE MEN OR NON BINARY PEOPLE ACTUALLY HAD ISSUES WITH YOU?

It’s incredibly, extremely, almost unheard of rare. I’ve maybe had three guys have same degree of issue with me only to eventually TALK ABOUT IT and get over the issue in like 10 minutes. G was the exception since he had his own issues and the toxic member of that group making things way worse. Raven is also the only non binary person that ever started something with me.

Ironically enough, most of my friends are both women and non binary though that might be due to the fact that there are apparently so few men or masculine identifying people on this platform. Recently went through a lot of groups’ Masterlists and all of them maybe had one or two guys and mostly women and a sparkle of non binary. The two groups I made and run and the one I was promoted to staff on are pretty mixed and diverse though.

[ravensncrows]

Rants.

For the first time, I’m torn, legitimately, and spiritually. 

I contacted a deity I’d long “worked” with, and they cut the link divine after it became clear I was either talking to the wrong one, or asking dumb questions. And this is my rejection issues coming up, I get it. And maybe that’s something I needed to let go of. But, I'd never received anything short of general guidance and warmth from them. They helped me have courage to find parts of myself before. And I'll admit, my ritualistic upkeep has been lacking. But when I pulled the rune and it was basically cutting me off, I felt it.

But today, a long time friend, admitted to manipulative behaviour. And I understand he’s been divinely favoured before. And, I can’t put quite into words the hurt, disappointment and vitriol I have for this person who admitted to this. I have hate in my heart., but at the same time it wasn't even that surprising so the hatred is cold, ice. I didn't even feel anything when I read their admission, I merely chuckled and went, "well, I'll be damned". And I’m trying to let this situation go, in favour of the longstanding relationship we’ve had. But sometimes, you have to let it fucking go. I'd made my mind up about this tether, before, as I had spent so much emotional labor managing their reactions by catering mine, which has frankly allowed this to progress to this point. They have a skewed sense of loyalty bought from books and texts and ideas of masculinity that are toxic and abusive, and they tow the line between being edgy for show and actually living on the fringe - it's one thing to be firm in your belief and really believe the things you think are true, and the way the world works according to your beliefs. But it's entirely different to behave in accordance to that when it directly contradicts everything that is based in objective reality, and you STILL flirt with bad intentions and bad situations, bad looks and bad speech. I'm the FIRSt one to admit that I don't stand up for myself, but I am also fairly realistic in understanding that the world doesn't cater to those who made their bed and then refuse to lie in it, especially when that person expects others to give up their sheets to them because they "have them".

I should have known when I spoke to this person about RvW. I literally answered this person's call mid-trauma when I had mine, and they conveniently forgot that about me. They scoffed when I relayed that I was angry at the decision, that this decision affected my life. They GOADED me when I told them about the realities of women, the truth of the burden uterus-owners carry, and the situations we've seen. But he's been too caught up in his world. He doesn't believe that shit, and he thinks that anyone who would willingly engage in that trauma deserves no seat at the table. And when I reminded him, firmly, that I was one of the people who had it happen to me, who needed it to happen despite my not wanting it to, he was in disbelief. I should have KNOWN that edginess was no good. I should have called it sooner. I should have should have should have.

But it's gotta stop. I have some belongings of theirs that I'll need to send to them when they are able to receive them. But I have to get that energy out of my life.

So now, I'm not sure where to turn. I don't want to risk the wrath of gods I've prayed to and with, but I'm also diving into other potential deities to work with. Nothing feels connected, save One. I feel lost. And the last time I sent out a petition for aide to this person's deities, I was severely punished. Severely.

Anyways, TLDR. I think it's time to cut the cord. I'm tired of this person repeatedly showing their ass and not being faulted for it. I don't want this to carry on to my next chapter, relationship be damned. Hard conversations be damned.

#Freyja Help Me #Odin Help me #Loki Help Me #Tyr Help Me #Fuck this guy

[tyonfs]

cat & mouse

❝ rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits, and, y/n, we just pushed that limit. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, crack, fluff, college au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ lots of !! sexual tension !! and jaemin acting like a dick, protective big brother!jaehyun, lots of sneaking around, jaemin calls you princess a lot, teasing, fingering, alcohol consumption, hooking up, thigh riding, smut, oral sex, aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out. 

PLAYLIST ▸ move! by niki • playinwitme by kyle (feat. kehlani)

WORD COUNT ▸ 17713 words

TAG LIST ▸ @chubsluda​ @celestialchans​ @treasurestay​ @luvlyjaemin​ @lanadreamie​ @kylomeyon​ @taehinsano​ @jenotation​ @ovelha-colorida-v​ @hrjflrt​ @to-blessed-2-be-stressed​ @honeyju​ @chanluster​ @sweetjaemss​ @najaemsenthusiastttt​ @neovrse​ @jjikyuu​ @treasurestay​ @ahgastayzen​ @wcnderlandss​ @jaehy9ngs​ @jaemxins​ @syhznanny​ @lilminyoongles​ @bbnana​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for all of your love and support !! it’s beyond me & i hope you guys enjoy this ! part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡

NA JAEMIN HATED PARTIES.

In the same vein, he hated basketball to an extent. It wasn’t the sport itself that he despised, it was the commitments that followed it. As a vital player on the team, he was obligated to attend every afterparty despite how much he loathed parties. Yet, what he couldn’t stand was being nagged by his teammates, so Jaemin went to the parties. He went to the parties and drank until he was numb and the party was tolerable.

He didn’t even like drinking that much, but he didn’t have much of a choice when most of the members of the basketball team were his seniors. Jaemin was pretty sure his brain cells depleted one-by-one every time he took a shot, but sometimes he got away with faking his alcohol intake when the others were too drunk to keep track. His best friend, Lee Jeno, on the other hand, lived for parties like this. Jaemin used that to his advantage; Jeno was the perfect target to hand off his unwanted shots to.

“Jaemin!” Jeong Jaehyun, the captain of the basketball team, made his presence known easily. After all, the parties were always hosted at his house. “Let’s do a love shot.”

If it were anyone else, Jaemin would’ve turned them down with some sarcastic, witty comeback. However, Jaehyun was different. Jaemin admired him since they were high schoolers on the basketball team. Jaehyun was two years older but his skills were on another level. Jaemin had always worked to see if he could surpass him but to no avail.

“Sure.” Jaemin got off of the couch, where he was aimlessly scrolling through his social media and observing the party. He followed Jaehyun to the kitchen counter. “You got tequila?”

It was a stupid question. Jaehyun was loaded; his supply of alcohol seemed endless.

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. He took a red solo cup and measured a shot of tequila. “By the way, why don’t you talk to any of the girls here? You seem tense. You should get laid.”

It wasn’t like Jaemin intentionally avoided the girls. He just had no interest in people who wanted to blindly hook-up and forget about it the next morning. He didn’t completely ignore them either. Jaemin distinctly remembered a pretty blonde passing him her vape pen, which he politely refused. While he didn’t mind destroying his liver, he wanted to keep his lungs intact.

“There’s no one here I want to fuck,” was Jaemin’s impassive response. “Especially not when they’re drunk off their ass.”

“Is that so? How much did you drink tonight?”

“This is my third or fourth shot, I think.”

Jaehyun snorted and held out the red solo cup to him. “Well, here’s to your intact virginity.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Jaemin took the cup and swished its contents around. “Can’t we toast to something more practical? Like basketball?”

A chuckle escaped Jaehyun’s lips, bemused like a father to his son. He eyed Jaemin as he held the red solo cup to his lips. “Ready?”

Jaehyun didn’t wait for Jaemin, though. He tipped his cup up, downing the contents, and Jaemin followed suit as quickly as he could. The tequila was a smooth burn down his throat, but it made Jaemin feel slow and hazy. The fire spread across his chest, spreading to his arms, legs, and then his head. He felt fuzzy and was sure he had hit his limit for the night.

Jaemin took an unstable step forward, and Jaehyun put a firm hand on his shoulder, asking, “You good?” to which Jaemin answered with a dazed nod. With a grin, Jaehyun patted his back firmly. “See you when we’re both conscious again, man.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur. Jaemin found himself at a beer pong table and, in his drunken state, pretended he was practicing his free throws while he relished the crowd cheering him on. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, cheering wildly at the side until he got a headache. Eventually, the house felt too stuffy and he decided to go out to the backyard to let his buzz fade out.

Outside wasn’t any better. The cheers were louder outside and the music was still blasting. The fog in Jaemin’s head thickened and he was sure he felt hands trying to guide him to the pool, but he brushed them off. He narrowed his eyes onto a lawn chair and willed himself to walk straight towards it.

Sit, he ordered himself. Do not get in the pool and make a fool out of yourself.

After pushing past a few of his teammates and the girls hovering around them, Jaemin’s knees buckled under him as soon as he got to the lawn chair. It was damp when he sat down, but he was too drunk and dazed to care. Jaemin looked up at the sky, unfocused, and was only pulled from his thoughts when his phone went off.

annoying jeno: where tf did u go? this girl wants me to introduce her to u

It was time for another shot.

Jaemin felt heavy. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and spotted a red solo cup on the side table to his right. He reached for it and inspected the contents, sloshing it around sluggishly until he noticed a pair of eyes boring into him.

You were isolating yourself from the rest of the party, just like him. You weren’t giving him the sex eyes like he had expected; you looked more confused. Unlike Jaemin, you looked much more sober and functional. It was painfully obvious by the way Jaemin couldn’t seem to focus on you without seeing double.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol in his system, but Jaemin had no idea who you were, but fuck, he wanted to. He pushed it down, though. Hookups were never fulfilling, and Jaemin wasn’t here to let himself go.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jaemin asked in a low voice, trying to speak coherently without slurring his words. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but you seemed to understand.

To his surprise, you fired a question back at him. “What are you doing?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was obviously drunk off his ass, so what was he supposed to explain when it was clear as day?

“Waiting for this stupid party to be over,” Jaemin replied. He dropped his gaze back to the cup he held on his lap. “Why are you still staring? I’m not interested.”

“You’re holding my drink.”

Jaemin stilled. He looked between you and the cup for a moment before muttering a pathetic “oh.” He flushed and held the cup out to you. “Sorry.”

You took the cup gingerly and downed your shot before advising him, “You know, you shouldn’t be taking random cups and drinking from them at parties. You never know what they could be laced with.”

Jaemin’s head lolled to the side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t want to join the party, but he didn’t want to sit back and be scolded. He was debating making a run for the fence in Jaehyun’s backyard. His house was only a few blocks away and he was pretty sure he’d be sober enough to make it. Jeno, however, was the obstacle he was worried about. If he ran off without telling Jeno (who was going to disapprove anyway), he was sure to get an earful the next day.

“Also,” you continued, “don’t go around assuming every girl who looks in your general direction wants to fuck you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaemin grumbled, too drained to argue back. “Shouldn’t you be partying with everyone? It’s depressing over here.”

“This isn’t my party to celebrate,” you said, biting down on the rim of your cup delicately. “I’m just here for the drinks.”

Jaemin didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to introduce himself. “I’m Na Jaemin, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied. “Pleasure to meet you, Na Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyelashes were obscuring his vision as he tried to squint to make you out. He wasn’t sure if it was the drunken stupor, but you were breathtaking. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Jaemin was currently seeing double of you. Jaemin wasn’t sure how he had ever missed you at any of the other parties (if you even showed up to those), but he was glad he snuck away to the backyard now.

Jaemin turned back to look at the scene before him, full of shrieks and shouts from partygoers as they danced off-beat to the blasting music. He almost didn’t notice the ultimate bastard, Yuta Nakamoto, walking over with his eyes set on not Jaemin, but you. Yuta only seemed to see Jaemin when he neared the two and, despite the awkward pause in the air, held his hand up to fistbump him. Jaemin lazily returned it, not really processing until seconds later when Yuta had already passed him.

It wasn’t that Yuta and Jaemin had any bad blood between them. Rather, Jaemin found the older boy quite fun to be around, and on top of that, he was a really supportive and caring teammate. However, when it came to parties, Yuta tended to be a lot more high-energy than Jaemin was.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuta crooned deviously, standing over you with his hands shoved in his pockets. He crouched down so he was at eye-level with you, holding onto the arm of your chair. “Care to dance with me?”

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you drawled, a smile appearing on your lips. “I’m good over here, but you go have fun.”

Yuta stood up again, a cat-like grin spreading from ear-to-ear across his face as he stepped back toward the pool. “You’re gonna miss out, Y/N. You cool with that?”

The smile never left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Yuta turned to dive into the pool, making Jaemin’s nose scrunch as the splash was big enough to get water on his clothes. When Yuta surfaced, he smoothed his hair back and wiped the excess water from his face. He caught your eye again, winking before swimming toward Jungwoo and splashing him, leaving you shaking your head and chuckling.

“You two close?” Jaemin asked in a mumble, not quite sure where he was going with the sudden conversation.

You were shocked momentarily, but smiled when you looked over at Jaemin. “Let’s just say he wants to get in my pants but I find the age gap inappropriate.”

Jaemin snorted. “Really? How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Jaemin rose a brow. He was just a year older than you but not so far off from Yuta. He hadn’t seen many college students be so conscious of a legal age difference of a year or two. After all, nearly everyone was an adult anyway.

“That’s not so far off from Yuta,” he told you.

You hid a smile, nearly going unnoticed under the dim light, but Jaemin had just caught it in time. “He’s like, my brother’s age,” you replied. “It’s just weird.”

Jaemin didn’t really get it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He was an only child so he didn’t really think his opinion was valid anyway. Yet, he must have been looking at you weird because you bit your lip and shrunk under his gaze. Jaemin swallowed and turned back to look down at his feet, trying to get his head out of the clouds, but the buzz was still too strong.

He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

He wasn’t looking at you but he could feel your gaze boring into him. Jaemin wanted to melt into a puddle then and there. He was never the type to make a move like that, usually expecting girls to approach him, but now that he did, his skin was crawling with shame. Although, he figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he ended the night in bed with you.

Jaemin worked up the courage to turn his gaze to you. “I’m a year older than you. Would you be down if it was me?”

“Yeah,” you admitted bluntly, causing the tips of Jaemin’s ears to go red. “But I don’t know you, so…”

“Do you want to?” he asked, then clarified, “Get to know me, I mean.”

The two of you were silent for a moment, and it was far more deafening than the booming party around them. Jaemin’s gaze dropped from your face to look back at the college students wading around in the pool. Someone must have messed with the pool because it had started to fill up with bubbles, making the crowd cheer louder. Entranced, Jaemin nearly didn’t notice you when you were standing right over him. He arched a brow at you, scooting back a little out of shock.

“Do you want to get out of here then?”

You were smiling coyly and Jaemin didn’t have the willpower to resist anymore. He stood up, looking around for Jeno, before turning to you and nodding. Everyone was so consumed with the pool foaming up that it would be easy for them to escape from the backyard.

“I’m way too drunk to drive, but we can go for a walk,” Jaemin suggested, leading her out through the backyard fence. He had escaped from there countless times, only for Jeno to drag him back, but this time, Jeno was preoccupied.

Yet, something unsettled him about not informing his best friend, so he decided to shoot him a quick text.

jaemin: i’ll see u back home, i’m with a girl lol

annoying jeno: deadass? have fun

Now, at least Jaemin had one thing off his chest.

“So what’s your deal?” Jaemin asked you as he tried to focus on walking in a straight line. “You have guys like Yuta Nakamoto lining up for you and you’re passing up my boy?”

“If he’s your boy then why are you trying to make a pass at me?” you shot back, grabbing his arm to provide leverage when he stumbled.

“Touché,” Jaemin grumbled. “It’s not like he was scoring, so I might as well shoot my shot.”

“Did you score?”

The corner of Jaemin’s mouth twitched. “That’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

Mutual attraction was such a strange feeling because the sexual tension was there and so loud. Granted, about 90% of it came from Jaemin, but something about the way you were still holding onto his arm and laughing at his stupid jokes made him feel like something was going to happen tonight.

“We should stargaze,” you offered, pointing at a grassy hill behind a park the both of you were passing by. Jaemin nodded in response, so you dragged him by the arm to the chosen location.

Stargazing meant laying down, and laying down meant not having to focus on walking in a straight line anymore, so it sounded absolutely heavenly to Jaemin right now. Somehow, he felt like such an amateur right now. No girl had ever asked him to lay down and stargaze with him; they always just skipped to the bedroom fun.

You let go of Jaemin to lay down on the grass, positioning yourself like a starfish before patting the space next to you and then moving your hands to rest on your stomach. You looked entranced with the stars above you, but the moment Jaemin laid down next to you, you turned to him, catching him off-guard. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from you to the sky above.

“The stars are beautiful,” he said weakly.

He couldn’t even see the fucking stars.

“Damn, I thought you were gonna call me beautiful for a second,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“You wish,” Jaemin said with a light snort, swallowing thickly. “There’s no way I’m calling a girl that over my dead body.”

He was a terrible liar. It was clear when Na Jaemin was feeling lustful. His eyes would turn half-lidded and his voice would drop a few octaves. Right now, all of that was happening along with his fingers twitching at his sides. You were looking back up at the sky when he turned his head to look at you, and god, you were so pretty.

“Girls must come running for you,” you told him, “otherwise I really can’t figure out the ego.”

“That’s the problem when you’re a star basketball player and devilishly handsome.” Jaemin grinned, folding his arms behind his head. “You turn out like me.”

“How mortifying.”

“I know, right?” Jaemin turned onto his side for a brief moment to look at you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve remembered…”

“Because I’m beautiful?” you offered.

Jaemin groaned, pink dusting his cheeks. “Why are you so fixed on that?”

You laughed in response while Jaemin just stared at the heartstopping curve of your lips. He felt himself grow hot, anticipation mixed with the weight of the situation. He had never been the type to feel so jittery around a girl, but here he was, a touch anxious because he was afraid of doing something wrong.

“That’s Orion’s Belt there,” you pointed out. “Can you see Betelgeuse?”

You turned to look at Jaemin to see if you had his attention, but did a double-take upon realizing that you, in fact, had his full attention. His eyes were directly on you, not the night sky above. The both of you were so painfully close, and Jaemin couldn’t resist when he reached over to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“I can’t see the stars,” he mumbled, his large hand moving to cup your cheek. When your gazes were locked, he caressed your cheek with his thumb gently and leaned in to kiss you.

Well, he was about to kiss you until he felt your finger pressing against his lips.

“I’m down for whatever,” you told him sweetly, “but I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Sure, he found it a little weird, but he could see the reasoning behind it. You were probably one of those people who saved your kisses for something special—whatever that meant. Honestly, Jaemin didn’t really care about the significance, but he did know it would be amplified if he found “the one.”

“So this is a date now?” he asked, amused.

“Somewhat.”

Jaemin huffed lightly and leaned back, letting his hand retract back to his side. “Down for whatever? Even sex?”

You raised a very attractive eyebrow at him, making Jaemin short-circuit for a split second. “If you play your cards right,” you said airily, your voice all light and fluffy.

“Down for whatever but the offer isn’t extended to anyone over the age of twenty-one.”

You punched his shoulder hard this time. “Bite me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Whatever made Jaemin’s confidence swell was taking over fast. In seconds, Jaemin propped himself up with his elbow, using his free hand to brush your hair to the side and tilting your neck so he could have easier access to it.

To test the waters, Jaemin nipped at your supple skin, earning a hitch in your slowed breathing that encouraged him to do more. Jaemin left open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking harshly with each one. He licked his lips when he pulled away to look at your neck. You were tough to bruise but he loved a challenge. He maneuvered his body over you so he could indulge himself further, holding himself up with his forearms.

Jaemin dipped under your chin again, ravishing the side of your neck that he targeted. He littered the column of your neck with dark hickeys, smirking against your skin upon the sight. You were a squirming mess under him, tugging at his hair and bucking your hips up against his. Jaemin grunted softly, his hands pushing your hips down so you could no longer tempt him.

You wrapped your hands around him, one hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl your fingers in his hair. Hands weren’t normally something that made Jaemin weak, but yours were driving him crazy with one in his hair and the other bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

He cupped the apex of your jeans, smug as you whined at his touch, yearning for more. Jaemin’s free hand grazed your waist before he lowered it to your hip. He pulled away from your neck to meet your gaze, biting his lip at your lustful expression.

“Can I?” he asked, pressing down slightly against your apex.

You nodded, about to say something but got cut off when Jaemin moved his hand down and palmed your clothed clit. Jaemin smirked once he heard the soft sigh falling from your lips. His breathing got heavier, mixing with yours as he started fumbling to unbutton your jeans.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Jaemin…”

Jaemin swallowed hard and tugged your jeans down your hips a little. He felt like he was losing control with every touch. He just wanted to hold you in his arms and spend the rest of the night with you, and it was impossible to shake off that feeling when you were looking at him like that.

He playfully snapped the waistband of your panties, letting out a chuckle when your face twisted up and you pushed at his chest. Then, you drew him closer again and guided his hand down your pants. Jaemin took a shaky breath when he felt how wet you were. It filled him with pride, of course, but he had suddenly felt so nervous. He had hooked up with girls before, but this felt weird to him. Different, to an extent. They were just going through the motions, but he was struck with some strange feeling that he didn’t want to mess up or do something wrong. It was like his first time all over again when he had no idea what he was doing.

His silent cry for help was answered with rain.

“Jesus, it’s raining now?” Jaemin asked with a disapproving huff, pulling his hand out of your pants. He wondered if the people in Jaehyun’s backyard were going to move back inside or keep partying through rain and storm.

“It is?” You frowned and reached a hand over him to catch some raindrops. “You make a nice umbrella, Na Jaemin.”

“How kind of you,” Jaemin replied, a bit distracted by the rain pelting his back. “Should we make a run back to Jaehyun’s or do you want to, like…”

“Do I want to do it outside in the rain?” you asked, quirking a brow at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Worth a shot.”

Jaemin hauled himself up to his feet, holding a hand out for you so you could stand. You started patting down your clothes and fixing your fly. Jaemin did the same, making sure he looked presentable but he kept quiet about the dark hickey on the side of your neck. He squinted up at the drizzle of rain from the sky.

Cockblock, Jaemin thought bitterly.

Yet another distraction came in the form of a text message. Specifically, a text message from Lee Jeno.

annoying jeno: i’m going back to the apartment and ik ur with a girl but i left the keys at home so pls open the door

“Son of a bitch,” Jaemin grumbled to himself. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked at you when he noticed your questioning stare. Jaemin ran his hands down your arms, then held your waist gently. “I have to go.”

“Go?” you asked him, startled.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied with a sigh, not wanting to divulge how idiotic his roommate was. “Can I get your number?”

This perked you right up, thankfully. Jaemin was satisfied as he watched you enter your phone number in his phone. This almost made him feel better about having to leave you alone to walk back to Jaehyun’s house in the rain.

Scratch that. He still felt like a piece of shit.

Jaemin slept off the party rather well.

He was in a bit of a mood, however, seeming tired and cranky in the morning. He had nearly thrown his phone at Jeno’s face when his best friend tried to shake him awake in the morning. It was a miracle that he showed up on time for his lecture. Around the afternoon, he received a text from you and was far more awake and alert after that. By the time he got to basketball, though, he was in a much better mood.

That is, until Jaehyun called for a team meeting.

The basketball team members were all sitting on the bleachers, waiting for a pissed-off Jaehyun to speak. Jeno picked at his nails next to Jaemin while YangYang in front of them was fiddling with the basketball. Jaehyun was only ever serious during games, but now his anger showed in a subtle and scary way that even Taeyong was a bit shaken by the change in his mood.

“Now, I’m going to say this once and you all better listen up carefully,” Jaehyun said in a low, dangerous voice. “If anyone—and I mean anyone—lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are.”

Taeyong whistled lowly, impressed.

“Yuta,” Jaehyun continued, eyes narrowing at the older boy, “this message was inspired by you.”

“Received, reflecting, and apologizing,” Yuta said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll back off, Captain.”

“Good,” Jaehyun replied curtly as Yuta and Taeyong started to banter playfully over the topic.

Jaemin was unsettled. Jaehyun was upset over someone going after his younger sister? Now, Yuta was a flirt, but he recalled him pining for you last night and there was no way you were Jaehyun’s sister, right?

“Hey, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged the boy with his elbow. “Who exactly is Jaehyun’s sister?”

“Isn’t it Jeong Y/N?” he answered.

Goodbye world, was Jaemin’s first thought.

Yuta was flirting with you last night, but Jaemin straight-up nearly fingered you and—oh god, the hickey. Jaemin was at the end of his line right now, and if you said anything to Jaehyun, he was sure he was going to get his ass beat. He was starting to regret giving up his non-hookup life because of you; the only person Jaemin was flirting with now was Death.

“You good?” Jeno’s brows were knitted in concern.

“Jeno.” Jaemin swallowed down the dry lump in his throat. “Remember how I told you I was with a girl last night?”

“Yeah?” Jeno asked, searching Jaemin’s eyes for an answer. He found it rather quickly, eyes widening and voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh my god.” His gaze flickered from Jaemin to Jaehyun several times. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jaemin whispered back. “We were both drunk. I’ll just ghost her subtly and she’ll forget about me. Easy.”

Jeno raised a brow at his plan. “Is hooking up with Jaehyun’s little sister worse than breaking her heart?”

“Oh please, it was one night. Give it a day or two. She won’t give a fuck.” Even though I kind of do, he added in his head.

The next time Jaemin saw you was after practice ended a few days later.

It had to be impossible that you could look any better than you did the last time he saw you, but here you were. It was unfair, really. Jaemin was a college student that was amped up with testosterone and hormones, and now he had no place to channel it. He was a second away from dragging you into an empty room and letting himself go with you, but then he remembered your older brother, and the horny thoughts dissolved into fear and shame.

“Ah, Jaemin,” you greeted with a cheerful smile.

Fuck, why did you have to be so cute?

Jaemin opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it and looked away from you. He leaned against the side of the bleachers and sighed while you were puzzled by his behavior. Although he wanted to ignore you, you were right there and the two of you were alone. Jaemin knew that the other guys wouldn’t be out of the locker rooms for another five minutes.

His gaze dropped to your hickey. It was so clear that you didn’t bother trying to cover it up, and the sight made Jaemin feel proud in some twisted way. Instinctively, he reached over and brushed his thumb over the sensitive bruise, smirking when you shivered.

“It looks good on you,” Jaemin complimented.

“Thanks.” You scoffed, then a mischievous glint shone in your eyes. “Maybe you should give me some more then.”

Jaemin stiffened, in a lot more ways than he should’ve. He gritted his teeth, willing the blood not to rush down all at once. He could not get horny at school when Jaehyun could walk out any second. And the older boy did. Jaemin backed away from you instantly, acting as if you were just some stranger passing by.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered under his breath and was sure you heard when he saw your face drop.

Great. Now he felt like an asshole.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled quickly before you could say anything else, moving past you to walk over to Jeno, high-fiving Jaehyun as he did. Jaemin didn’t have time to register your expression, but nevertheless, he felt like shit.

Jeno looked suspicious as Jaemin approached him. “Did you…”

“End it?” Jaemin finished for him. “I think so.”

“Can you just stop being a dick and talk to her?”

Ticked off, Jaemin took a deep breath. “If I talk to her, then one thing will lead to another, and Jaehyun—”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupted. “This isn’t about Jaehyun. This is about you and Y/N.”

Jaemin screamed out something incomprehensible and put his hands over his ears. “I can’t hear you, Lee Jeno. Can’t hear you over me getting ready to go to a party and get wasted tonight.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re my best friend but you’re an idiot.”

“I know that.” Jaemin made a face. “But it’s time for me to go and forget that.”

Jaemin never failed to forget how much he hated parties. He was starting to regret showing up in the first place. One of his teammates, Jungwoo, had let him into his frat party. Normally, guys were selectively chosen because the frat boys wanted more girls, but Jaemin was wasting his opportunity of getting in by doing absolutely nothing.

This was why he didn’t like drinking. He wasn’t even fun when he was drunk; Jeno was a social butterfly, Yuta was a flirt, but Jaemin would just wonder if plants existed and think about you.

“You look pissed off,” Jungwoo observed, holding out a red dixie cup to him. “Are you sure you want to party?”

“Yes,” Jaemin grumbled, taking the cup from him and downing it in seconds. “I need to let go.”

“Of?”

“Myself.”

Jaemin patted Jungwoo’s back firmly and moved to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He let himself get all worked up over some girl he barely even hooked up with. All he did was kiss your neck and here Jaemin was, looking like some cheap, heartbroken loser.

Oh, Jaemin thought out of the blue. I never told her she was pretty.

Jaemin took another shot, closing his eyes firmly as he thought of laying next to you again under the stars. Your lips looked so soft and kissable, your eyes so curious and alluring. He tried to push it away and focus on the party and getting drunk, but you kept appearing in his head like a mirage.

Let go, Jaemin, he told himself. Indulge yourself.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, bored. He sloshed the contents of his cup around, taking another shot when he felt the buzz start to wear out. A pretty brunette walked past him, flashing a coy smile.

He supposed she was one of the cheerleaders, or maybe she was a sorority girl. Either way, she was attractive and Jaemin could use the physical contact tonight. Part of him felt like it was the wrong thing to do, but all he could think about was how annoying it was to overthink every little thing he did.

Jaemin made his way over to her, tapping people’s shoulders and maneuvering his way through the cramped frat house. Everyone was clustered like schools of fish. Jaemin hated this kind of environment, but nevertheless, he put on a mask and did his best to fit in.

“Hey,” he greeted the girl once he found her. “I’m Na Jaemin.”

She smiled in that pretty way again. “I know you. You’re on the basketball team.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, flushing as she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I bet you don’t know me, though.”

“I don’t,” Jaemin admitted, “but you have a gorgeous smile.”

She beamed at this. “Hey, could you hold my cup for a second?” she asked, holding out her red dixie cup to him.

You want me to hold your cup when you can barely hold a conversation? Jaemin thought distastefully but took the cup anyway.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for her patiently, and when she came back, Jaemin could tell she had left to touch-up her makeup. He could also detect the faintest spritz of perfume, but he wasn’t exactly sure, so he leaned closer to make sure.

Jaemin wasn’t sure how they ended up making out in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, but by the time she was taking off her bra, he wanted to leave. He did his best not to look as bored as he felt throughout the heavy petting and removal of clothing, but his biggest fuck-up was worse than he had expected.

Even Jaemin himself felt mortified by what had just escaped his lips. By the disgusted look in the girl’s eyes, he was fairly confident this was going to spread around the school. As Jaemin was trying to conjure up some excuse for his actions, the girl stood up and started gathering her clothes.

“I’m not Y/N,” she muttered and left him alone in the room.

“Well, shit,” Jaemin grumbled, running a hand through his tousled hair after she left. “Should’ve told me your name then.”

Jaemin laid back on the bed, putting his hands over his face. He was royally screwed at this point and wondered if he had a shot at redemption. The fact that you were still on his mind was messing with him. Even now, after totally embarrassing himself, he was still stuck on you. To avoid further embarrassment, he pulled out his phone to deflect whatever impulsive action was creeping up his limbs.

jaemin: ok jeno im texting u instead of drunk texting y/n and confessing how badly i wanna kiss her

y/n: hi this is y/n

Jaemin wondered what sin he committed in his past life to get this unlucky.

jaemin: shit

jaemin: don’t talk to me i’m drunk at a party

y/n: jaemin you texted me first

jaemin: ugh i wanna see u so bad

jaemin: wanna make it up to u

y/n: oh my

y/n: you’re a little too drunk for that

y/n: but send me the address. i’ll come over and take you home

Jaemin was 98.75% sure that this was, by far, the stupidest thing he could do. Nevertheless, he shared his address with you and waited for you to come to get him. He hung out with Jungwoo in the meantime, slinging an arm around the older boy’s shoulder and confessing his embarrassing hookup while Jungwoo was high as a kite.

When you texted Jaemin that you were outside the frat house, he opened the door almost instantly. Jaemin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face when you were standing right in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jaemin cut you off.

“I might have… might have called out your name during a hookup,” he confessed, slurring his words while he tried to speak coherently.

You looked like you were deciding whether to think it was funny or be suspicious over the fact that he tried to hook up with someone and then texted you afterward. Eventually, you ended up laughing at his story, tutting at his actions. Jaemin walked by your side, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He closed his eyes in an attempt to come back to his senses, only to be dragged back onto the sidewalk by you because he was apparently straying into the road.

“How much did you drink?” was your first question and one that Jaemin wasn’t sure he had an answer for.

“Six? Seven shots?” Jaemin counted but lost track after he held up five fingers. “I haven’t gotten this hammered in a while.”

“You’ve been flighty,” you told him. “I thought I wasn’t going to hear from you again.”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was the plan.”

“What?”

End it now, Jaemin, the devious half of his mind instructed. Break it off before it’s too late.

“I don’t exactly do hookups anymore, Y/N,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but you happened to break that streak for him. But then came the lie. “I’m not looking for anything serious now either, and I’m sure you aren’t.”

They walked in silence onto the campus grounds, turning into the street where the student apartments were. You looked down at your feet, a little more disappointed than Jaemin had expected. More than that, it looked as though you were embarrassed.

Cue Na Jaemin feeling like a douchebag, which he was.

“Aren’t you the one who asked if I wanted to get to know you?” you asked him, brow arched.

Jaemin panicked, his words trapped in his throat for a second. Well, you got him there. He didn’t have a good excuse that made him sound less of a dick. Although, he was already probably about to be blacklisted from your life pretty soon, so it didn’t really matter.

“I was drunk,” Jaemin said as his brain was trying to throw random words at him. “I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

They made it to Jaemin’s apartment, which was thankfully on the first floor because he didn’t think he could stand an awkward elevator ride with you. You didn’t look at Jaemin once, but it didn’t seem as though you were angry. Rather, you looked confused, but Jaemin swallowed down his guilt and took a step back once they were at his door.

“Besides,” he continued shamelessly to deliver the final blow, “you always have Yuta.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stormed off at once after those words. Jaemin was left alone, still looking down at his feet. He let out a long, dragged-out sigh, hitting his head back against the solid wood of his door.

“Idiot,” he scolded himself.

It took Jaemin a whole week and a half to get over you.

Even then, he didn’t really get over what happened. He just stopped blaming himself for it in front of Jeno and internalized everything else. Talking to Jeno didn’t really help, anyway, because Jaemin would just be hit with the “I told you so” and then be silently judged by his best friend.

Jeno had gone home for the long weekend, though, so Jaemin could finally mope about his apartment without Jeno smacking him upside the head and calling him a loser. Although Jaemin agreed with that, he was tired of remembering how shitty of a person and it was a constant reminder of how he treated you.

Although, he didn’t expect that reminder to physically manifest when he saw you in the hallway of his apartment on Friday night.

“Y/N?” he blurted out impulsively.

Jaemin had just decided to get something from the vending machine, not expecting to see you when he was standing in front of his doorway in his grey sweatpants and lack of shirt. His hair was bedraggled from staying in bed all day after his morning lecture ended. In short, he wasn’t exactly presentable and this wasn’t the look he wanted you to see.

“Jaemin,” you said softly, looking a bit startled. “I was just leaving my friend’s place.”

“Look—”

“It’s fine, Jaemin.” You managed a small smile for him. “There’s no hard feelings, okay? Water under the bridge.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said, biting your lip afterward. “I just hope you’re not one of those guys who ghosts the girl if they don’t get sex out of it.”

Jaemin could feel the ice in your tone but brushed it off. “Honestly, I don’t care about sex that much.”

“Then what do you care about?”

Jaemin fixed his gaze on you, narrowing his eyes. He should have been grateful that you didn’t take it too personally and had forgiven him, but something was off. He didn’t doubt your reasons for being here, but an undercurrent of desire was definitely still there.

His morals were bouncing around his skull, warring with each other. Jaehyun was yelling at him to stop, but you were also there, and so fucking pretty. You wanted him, and he wanted you—it was almost perfect if it weren’t for your overprotective older brother who Jaemin respected too much. Then again, Jaemin had been shouldering too much guilt over the past week. He was sure he could handle some more.

What Jaehyun didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

The hallway was empty, doused with lingering sleep. The world was dark outside but under the dim, flickering hallway light was you. And Jaemin was at his limit; he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, and something inside him snapped.

He grabbed your hands first before pushing you up against the wall and sealing his lips over yours. Your face morphed into a shocked expression, only making Jaemin amused as he pinned your hands up and over your head. Your lips were so warm and soft, molding against Jaemin’s lips perfectly. He felt your hands wrap around his neck to draw him closer, inciting a soft groan from the back of his throat. It was kind of pathetic that he was already hard, and he was sure you were aware of it by how he was pressed up against your lower body.

Jaemin picked you up effortlessly, scooping you into his arms by your thighs. You let out a little shriek and grabbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his torso at his encouragement. Jaemin took you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot before heading to his room and dropping you on his bed.

He had never actually let a girl into his room, so this was a first. Somehow, seeing you on his own bed was so arousing, and he had half a mind to just take you then and there. Jaemin made you sit at the edge of the bed while he stood between your legs, hands on your thighs. You looked confused for a moment, but let Jaemin run his hands up and down your thighs.

You and Jaemin should not be in bed together. Under no circumstances should the two of you even be acquainted in the slightest. The fact that you two met was all one big, cosmic coincidence, but sometimes the stars loved fucking around with human affairs.

“I told you I had to make it up to you,” Jaemin said in a low voice, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “You don’t have to forgive me but I can’t keep being a coward.”

“A coward? More like a douchebag,” you told him, holding his wrist so you could bite the tip of his finger as you looked up at him through your lashes. “But glad you came to your senses.”

“So you forgive me then?”

You smiled, all innocent and pure, unlike your words. “Not unless you make it up to me.”

Jaemin dropped his gaze down to your shorts, eyeing them for a moment before he started tugging them down. You raised your hips to help him take your shorts off, followed by your panties. Jaemin nearly sighed at the sight of you; you were so gorgeous and so ready for him. He wanted to completely blow your mind.

Then, the nerves got to Jaemin again.

“Y/N,” he started, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle or something.”

“Na Jaemin, if you don’t make me cum, I will scream,” you warned.

“Yeah?” Jaemin chuckled at your reaction. “I think you’re going to scream either way, though.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. He caressed your cheek, rubbing slow circles with his thumb before he dragged it down to your jawline. A small pout appeared on your lips and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip again as if he could wipe your pout away.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Jaemin said.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, Jaemin plunged his finger in you, thumb quickly finding purchase on your clit and rubbing in slow, languid circles. He wasn’t very satisfied by your shell-shocked silence, so he added a second finger to get you moaning and squirming at his actions.

You gasped when Jaemin curled his fingers, and he relished the dazed expression on your face. He watched your eyelashes flutter and eyelids droop as he scissored his fingers in you, earning him blissful moans from your pretty lips. One of your hands was gripping the sheets at your side while the other was gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly. He knew he was doing a good job by the way your walls clenched around his fingers, and it made him swell with pride.

“You’re such an asshole,” you whimpered out, moaning again as he curled his fingers in you.

“Then why do you still want me?” Jaemin hissed. “You should have just hated me. I would have been fine if you weren’t so fucking perfect.”

You cried out as he plunged another finger in you. “Shit, you’re just—oh god.” Jaemin could tell you were at your peak, so he pulled his fingers out of you immediately, smirking at how distressed you looked.

Jaemin popped his fingers in his mouth, sucking off your juices. “You taste so good, princess.”

You scowled at him. “F-finish me off, at least,” you pleaded.

Jaemin gripped your thighs. “Oh, trust me, I will.”

Jaemin lowered himself and met your eyes before he leaned forward and sealed his lips over your clit, sucking harshly on the ball of nerves. You were so sweet and so wet, but what made Jaemin go crazy was the way the both of you locked eyes while he was between your legs. He let out a groan that vibrated against you.

He licked a strip along your slit, pleased with his reward of pants and moans from you. Your thighs squirmed around him so he gripped them harder and moved his hands up to your hips so he could eat you out with more vigor.

Jaemin snaked his tongue along your folds and you were gone. Already edged from being fingered, you were at your peak already. Back arching off the bed and hips squirming, Jaemin tongued your clit as he coaxed you into your orgasm. By the sound of your moans and cries, he felt like he was going to cum in his pants any second if you didn’t stop. You released over his tongue so easily, and Jaemin lapped it up as you made an effort to catch your breath.

At first, Jaemin was over the moon. He hooked up with you and wanted more. You were so enticing and Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. Then came the crushing guilt. It registered a bit late, but it was all the more painful. He had just eaten out his friend’s little sister and couldn’t help the fact that he wanted her so badly.

“Not bad, Jaemin,” you breathed out, fixing your hair as your thighs still stiffened and twitched every now and then. “Is this the part where you push me away and ghost me for another week?”

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, battling frustration and shame. “Look,” he started, “the reason I pushed you away was because you didn’t tell me your brother is Jeong Jaehyun!”

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “Yeah, he’s my brother. Is that a problem?” Jaemin let out a heavy sigh and you raised a brow at him. “You got a crush on him or something?”

Jaemin’s expression soured. “No! He’s my friend and teammate, Y/N. There’s an unspoken bro code between us men.”

You rolled your eyes. “Here we go.”

“Rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits,” Jaemin said. “And, Y/N, we just pushed that limit.”

“You know, in girl code, we ask the friend for permission,” you offered.

“Jaehyun rounded us up at practice and told us that if anyone lays a hand on his little sister, he’s going to kill them,” Jaemin said. “I’m too young to die.”

You stood up to push Jaemin down by his shoulders, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Jaemin’s breath got caught in his throat when you sat on his lap, right where his bulge was painfully tented beneath his sweatpants. You traced his v-cut abs, making Jaemin shiver in response. He held your hips and swallowed thickly. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. If you were about to ride him, he was sure he could die a happy man.

“Jaemin, my brother doesn’t control my life, so he’s not killing you over anything, okay?” you reassured him, then leaned in closer, nibbling on his earlobe. Jaemin shivered at the contact, tightening his grip on you. “But, if you’re so worried about it, then we could sneak around.”

A guttural groan escaped Jaemin when you rolled your hips against his. Were you teasing him? Because it was hard for him to think and this distraction wasn’t helping. Either way, all he could think about was making you cum again and seeing that delicate look on your face as you crumbled in front of him.

“Sneak—sneak around?” Jaemin stammered, mouth going dry when you started taking off your shirt, and fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Huh?”

“Jaemin,” you said slowly, smirking as you traced a finger along his jawline. “If you don’t want Jaehyun to catch us, we can just meet up secretly.”

If this was a game of cat and mouse, there was a clear power difference right now; Jaemin felt more like the mouse while you were the cat.

Jaemin’s eyes darkened a bit. “Fuck yeah,” he mumbled, hand grazing your bare skin. His eyes devoured the way you looked, and you wanted to squirm at the hungry look on his face. It was kind of embarrassing how badly Jaemin wanted to skip this whole conversation and fuck you into oblivion.

“Jaemin,” you called again, noting how his eyes flitted from your lips to your eyes.

He gave up. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea what we’re talking about but if we’re keeping this going between us, I’m all for it.”

“Good answer,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.

You were a damn good kisser, Jaemin observed. He didn’t notice it before, but you had on some sort of fruity chapstick on that was making his head go fuzzy. The taste was addicting, and thank god you bit down on his lower lip because he wasn’t sure if he could handle another second without his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away for a moment so he could push you down onto the bed, getting over you. Jaemin sighed deeply as you skimmed your hands down his bare chest, fingers tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You know, I lied that night,” you told Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not usually down for whatever, but I wanted to try my chance with you.”

Jaemin tutted at you, circling a finger around your nipple. “You shouldn’t have lied, Y/N,” he said, making you whimper when he pinched your hard nipple. “Could’ve stroked my ego a little more.”

“Sorry, but I’m not here to stroke your ego, Jaemin,” you simpered, choking over your words when Jaemin pressed open-mouthed kisses to your chest, eventually snaking his hot tongue across your nipple.

“You already are,” Jaemin murmured against your skin, littering hickeys as he kissed your chest. “Your reactions are so cute.”

Jaemin sucked on his fingers for a brief moment to provide some extra lubrication, not that you really needed it. He used his pointer and middle finger to rub against your slit, your whines growing needier as you became more and more aroused. After one more needy mewl from your lips, Jaemin had enough. He tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach once it was free.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned brokenly, eyeing the length of his cock.

“Such a good girl,” he crooned down at you, teasing his cock against your slit until you were a gasping, moaning mess under him. Then, Jaemin pulled away, clicking his tongue and grinning while you narrowed your eyes at him. “Condom,” he remembered.

Jaemin got off the bed to retrieve the silver packet from his nightstand, tearing it open with his teeth in one go. He caught you staring at how incredibly hung he was, smirking proudly as he slid the condom onto his shaft. He pumped it once for good measure and moved back onto the bed with you.

He stayed on his knees, angling your hips up so that they were positioned with his cock. You looked confused by the awkward position, but Jaemin melted away your worries with a powerful thrust into you. He groaned at how tight you were with your warm, wet walls clenching around him rhythmically.

Jaemin could tell he was hitting all the right spots by the broken moans that were escaping you when he pounded in you. His own growls were low and grating, relishing the way you felt around him. You were clutching his sheets so tight and bucking your hips so often that Jaemin had to use a hand to push your lower abdomen down, smirking as he felt his cock move in and out of you.

“You’re so big,” you gasped out, looking visibly frustrated at how you couldn’t hold onto him.

“Princess, I regret not doing this earlier,” Jaemin admitted with another rough thrust into you, making you sob out some distorted version of his name. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I’m close,” you choked out, and Jaemin kindly aided you by rubbing your clit as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

You tucked your head into your shoulder, biting back your cries, so Jaemin grabbed your hair in a fistful and tilted it back so he could see your face. A shudder ran down his spine. Your expression was so perfect, so fucked in and glazed over.

“Shit,” he growled, voice raspy from arousal as you came undone in front of him.

His nimble fingers continued to work on your clit as you fell apart, moans ringing in his ears like a song. He followed you into your bliss, unable to hold back. He leaned over you and continued fucking you through your orgasm, holding you and groaning as he, too, released.

Jaemin stopped when he was done and spent. His arms buckled as they struggled to keep himself over you, and he could only pull out and collapse by your side. He muttered out a few curses, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared up at the ceiling. That felt good? No, too dry. I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like that? No, too possessive.

He settled with “you’re amazing” as his chest rose and fell in tune with yours.

“Likewise,” you breathed out and looked over at him. “I have to go home soon.”

Jaemin didn’t know what came over him, but he rolled over and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Normally, he wasn’t one for cuddling or aftercare, but he didn’t want you to go so soon. You relaxed under his touch as Jaemin drew you closer to his body, pulling the sheets over you both.

“Don’t go,” Jaemin whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You turned to look at him, running your finger along his cheek tenderly. “Jaehyun’s gonna ask.”

Jaemin threw the sheets off of you and stood up quickly. “Have a safe trip back.”

It was the very next day when Jaemin hooked up with you again.

You had sent him a rather suggestive text, stating that you found it strenuous to walk after the previous night. In some sick and twisted way, Jaemin found this extremely hot and invited you over that night. Needless to say, you found it even more difficult to walk afterward.

The next day was the last day of the long weekend, so you spent nearly the entire day at Jaemin’s place before Jeno came home. Sure, you had sex once or twice then, but Jaemin really liked having you around. Even when you both weren’t exactly doing anything, your mere presence was comforting to him. In past hookups with other girls, he would always just get up and leave after the deed was done. However, with you, he was suddenly a sucker for aftercare.

Jaemin still felt like shit for going behind Jaehyun’s back and he was starting to question his stealth when Jeno came back home and discovered your bra on the couch.

“Oh, that’s where it was,” Jaemin said blankly, taking the bra from Jeno. “By the way, how was visiting your family?”

Jeno was still stuck on the bra, however. “Hold on,” he started, “whose bra is that?”

“Mine.”

“You wear bras?”

“What? No.” Jaemin made a face. “The fuck?”

“Na Jaemin, did you sleep with a random girl on our couch?”

“First of all, it wasn’t a random girl. It was Y/N,” Jaemin defended. “And secondly, we did it against the wall, actually. The couch was just a poor observer.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted,” Jeno replied, pondering over his best friend’s words. He glanced back at the wall and inched away from it. “Did you figure out what you’re going to do about Jaehyun?”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly. “I mean, what Jaehyun doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“What happened to the Jaemin who was trying to ghost his sister?”

“He got laid.”

“This is so gonna backfire on you,” Jeno replied, shaking his head. “But I kind of want to watch it happen.”

“Dude,” Jaemin whined, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I broke the bro code so hard, but honestly, the sex is too good.”

“Jaemin, I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades, thanks.”

The next time Jaemin hooked up with you was almost an absolute disaster.

Keyword: almost.

“Jeno,” Jaemin warbled in a desperate cry, “I’m fucked. I’m absolutely fucked.”

“What’s up?” came the disinterested voice of his best friend who was sprawled out on the couch, flipping listlessly through a textbook.

“I need you to help me out,” Jaemin begged. “Y/N wants me to go over to her place but Jaehyun’s home.”

That was how Jaemin ended up behind your house, trying to hoist himself up onto a tree that was close to your window. Jeno was on the phone, keeping a lookout from his car that was parked on the street. This was, quite honestly, probably one of the stupidest things Jaemin had ever done because not only did he have a fear of heights, but he was risking his life just for his friend not to see him walking in the house.

There was something about hanging onto the branch of a tree for dear life that made a man question his pride.

“All this for some pussy,” Jeno tutted through his AirPods.

“Shut up, Jeno,” Jaemin muttered, a flush of heat rising to his cheeks. Truth be told, he just really wanted to see you, not that he would admit that.

He hauled himself onto one of the thicker branches that led to your window and inched his way along it to reach the windowsill. A frown crossed his lips as he reached out to knock on the glass. You told him you’d keep the window open for him, so why was it closed?

The answer was obvious, but it didn’t sink in until Jaehyun opened the window to see Jaemin dangling from a tree branch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, was all that was running through his mind. His head felt like it was going a thousand miles per second but the rest of his body was short-circuiting.

“Jaemin, what are you doing outside my window?” Jaehyun asked, looking absolutely perturbed.

“I’m, uh…” Jaemin paused to think while he could hear Jeno laughing at him through his AirPods. “Jeno and I wanted to prank you.”

“Jeno? Prank?” Jaehyun questioned. “Are you not here for a study session with Y/N?”

Jaemin stilled. He wasn’t sure he had any classes with you, but surely you must have made up this excuse to Jaehyun so that Jaemin could be in your house freely. Jeno’s laughing intensified as Jaemin blinked at his team captain.

“Right, well—”

“Jaemin, what are you doing there?” your sweet, innocent voice rang from Jaehyun’s door.

There was a mischievous glint in your eyes despite how concerned you tried to look. Jaemin saw right through you, though, and grimaced.

“Just… hanging out,” Jaemin grunted out as he tried to crawl in through Jaehyun’s window.

Jaehyun reached his hand out to help Jaemin and dragged him through the window with ease, so smooth that Jaemin pretended he didn’t hit his head against the side of the frame of the window as he was pulled inside. The tree branch bounced back to its original position, its leaves rustling wildly once Jaemin’s weight was off of them. Jaehyun helped Jaemin dust himself off and grabbed one of his shoulders firmly, using his free hand to pat his back.

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun said slowly, “use the door next time.”

“Got it,” Jaemin croaked out.

“We can go to my room and study, Jaemin,” you piped up, turning on your heel to head back to your room as soon as you were sure you had his attention.

“Right, um… see you, man,” Jaemin told Jaehyun, awkwardly following after you after Jaehyun returned the goodbye.

Jaemin had been to Jaehyun’s house for parties, but being there in the daytime was unnerving. He ended the call with Jeno, quickly texting him that he was safe before stuffing his phone and AirPods in his pockets. Jaemin turned the corner to see you sitting cross-legged on the floor of your room. A loud sigh escaped his lips before he made his way in, closing the door behind him.

“You’re paying for that,” he warned.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh falling from your lips just before Jaemin strode over, pushing you down onto the floor and hovering over you. You parted your lips to speak but whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as Jaemin swooped in and kissed you.

This is a terrible place to be doing this, the rational side of Jaemin’s brain provided, but then he was kissing you and it didn’t matter anymore.

Jaemin lost himself in the kiss as soon as he was tasting your fruity chapstick. He cupped your jaw, intoxicated by the way your lips felt against his. He was so dazed that he hardly noticed you unzipping his pants, tugging them down by his belt loops.

“Aren’t we studying?” Jaemin teased, brushing his nose against yours. He glanced over at the mess of books and papers at your table.

“Mm, do you want to study instead?” you asked, drawing him closer to you. “Pass up on this and read up on some cell division?”

“Fuck no.” Jaemin scoffed, dragging his nails up your thigh. “Spread those legs for me, angel.”

A mewl escaped your lips when you spread your legs because Jaemin immediately started palming your apex without missing a beat. The burst of pride that followed made him a little braver, a little less worrisome over your older brother.

“Take off your pants,” you breathed out, tugging once more at his waistband.

“No.” Jaemin moved off of you and hauled himself up to sit on your bed. “I want you to ride my thigh.” His eyes practically devoured the way you looked. “And keep the skirt on.”

You stood up, biting your lip as you moved to straddle his right thigh. Jaemin’s hands ran up and down your thighs, moving up to your hips eventually to rub slow circles with his thumb. His lips were attached to your neck almost immediately, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column.

You let a whimper slip from your lips and Jaemin started bouncing his leg steadily, his muscular thigh rubbing against your clit. He guided your movements with his hands as you rolled your hips against him. Jaemin flexed his thigh every once in a while and made sure to pull you down on him whenever he could make use of the friction.

Another moan from you and Jaemin sneered. “You’re getting off so well on my thigh, Y/N. Such a fucking tease but you react so easily.” You whined again and Jaemin shushed you. “Be quiet, princess. We don’t want to be walked in on, right?”

And, because the world hated Jaemin, Jaehyun decided to walk in.

“Y/N, can I come in for a second?” he called from outside the door.

In an instant, you practically flew off of Jaemin’s lap, scrambling back to your table and burying your nose in your biology textbook. There were a few long seconds of Jaemin silently communicating with you out of frustration. You had escaped just fine, but Jaemin just had to get a hard-on, and now that you were off his lap, it was far too obvious through his pants.

But you already told Jaehyun he could come in, so Jaemin put both hands over his crotch in a valiant (but stupid) effort to hide his boner while the door opened.

“I’m going to the store,” Jaehyun said, looking between you and Jaemin from the doorway. “Want anything?”

“No, we’re good,” you replied, but Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on Jaemin, narrowing slightly.

“I’ll get going then, but are you good?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing at the awkward position Jaemin was in. “The bathroom’s across the hall if you need to go.”

Jaemin’s eyes flitted to yours to see an amused look on your face, and he could practically hear your voice bouncing in his skull: This is fun.

This wasn’t exactly Jaemin’s textbook dictionary definition of fun, however.

“Thanks,” Jaemin croaked out, looking down at his lap in shame. A flush of red crossed his cheeks and you barked out a laugh as soon as Jaehyun was gone. “Not funny,” he grumbled out.

An impish grin crossed your face as you asked, “Need me to take care of your problem?”

“Please,” Jaemin almost begged.

The moment you stood up, Jaemin was quickly trying to tug his pants down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his boxers to take them off with his pants. This was awful in the absolutely best way possible because Jaemin’s hands felt clammy but then you were kneeling down in front of him, helping him take his pants off. You looked up at Jaemin when his hard cock curved up against his stomach. A breath escaped his lips like it had been punched out of him and he wondered if his eyes were as comically wide as they felt.

When the sound of Jaehyun closing the front door echoed, you grasped Jaemin’s painfully hard cock in your soft hands. Jaemin’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He couldn’t even ask you to do anything with all his bravado from earlier suddenly vanishing. So, he curled a hand in your hair, more for his own leverage.

Jaemin’s stomach rearranged itself to feel like some crazed etch-a-sketch rather than the human anatomy when he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

“Shit, that’s it,” he growled when you went down on him. He flushed all over, clear in the way his cock twitched in your mouth, and it made him feel like some silly, lovesick teenager. “Oh god, you feel so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock, princess.”

A sound of approval came from your throat, vibrating against the throbbing vein along Jaemin’s shaft and making him go crazy. You bobbed your head up and down, teasing him by going so slow to the point that it was nearly unbearable for Jaemin. He felt like a coil of fire was tightly woven inside him, ready to snap at any given moment.

“Fuck… don’t tease me—wait, are you asleep?”

Jaemin looked down to see you half-asleep on his cock, lips brushing against the vein along the side. Your eyes weren’t hooded but fluttered shut, head lolling to the side and your tongue grazing the underside of his head. A hiss escaped Jaemin’s lips at your teasing, but he felt more incredulous than turned on.

“I’m tired,” you said, “and you didn’t finish me off, so why should I finish you off?”

“Well, this is just unfair,” Jaemin replied with a frustrated huff as you pulled off of him. His gaze softened when he saw you rub your eyes, though. He fumbled for a moment, pulling his boxers and pants back up and tucking away the frustration of not getting his release. “You’re actually tired?”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “I’ve been studying my ass off all week for midterms.”

“Okay, well…” Jaemin faltered before scooting back on your bed until he was against the wall. “Let’s take a nap then.”

“Nap? Oh, so we—oh, okay,” you mumbled and Jaemin’s heart skipped a few beats when he saw you suck in your lower lip nervously.

You crawled into your bed and laid down, pulling the covers over them after Jaemin moved so he was right next to you. Jaemin had never exactly slept with a girl like this, but with you, his chest felt warm. It felt right. Without a word, he pulled you to his chest so you wouldn’t have to see how nervous you were making him feel, praying you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled to him.

And, because Jaemin was a loser who feared rejection and the reality that he was an actual human who felt real emotions, he pressed his lips to your head and whispered into your hair, “I like you.”

If you heard him or noticed, Jaemin wouldn’t have known because falling asleep was so much easier with you in his arms.

“You slept with her? Like, without sex?” Jeno asked Jaemin that night, to which he nodded. “You didn’t hook up with her at all?”

“Jaehyun walked in the first time and the second time… let’s not get into that,” Jaemin replied. “The point is, we fucking cuddled, Jeno.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

“Right?” Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, letting out an aggravated groan. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to Jaehyun’s place on Friday.”

Parties were one thing, but at least once a month, the basketball team would hold bonding events for everyone to unwind and chill. Jaemin usually attended every event since he was close with all of the members, but Jaehyun’s house became dangerous territory now because of you. However, Jaemin was expected to take the place of team captain when Jaehyun graduated, so he knew it would be bad if he didn’t attend all the socials the basketball team held.

“Why? Can’t keep it in your pants?” Jeno teased.

Jaemin threw a pillow at him. “Fuck off.”

“It’s been postponed to the end of the month, anyway,” Jeno assured. “Jaehyun said he had a date this Friday or something.”

“Then I’m safe for now.”

It got silent for a moment before Jeno asked, “Are you catching feelings?”

Silence.

Did Jaemin like you? Sure, he mumbled it for himself to hear when he was holding you, which was pretty suspicious of him to do that if he didn’t actually have any feelings toward you. He perfectly understood the feeling at an intellectual level, but absorbing it emotionally was beyond his realm of understanding. Plus, there was no point in having feelings for someone if they didn’t reciprocate.

Right?

Jaemin only had a few crushes before, and the feelings were so surface-level that he started to wonder how many aspects of life he had missed out on because of his inability to grow close to people. That was why he had confined himself to the hookup culture because the “no strings attached” aspect was so appealing to him, but now it was backfiring because of you. It was so fucked up because Jaemin didn’t even want to fuck around with you anymore. Scratch that. He did, but he also wanted to hold your hand, go on dates, and kiss you until your fruity chapstick made him dizzy again.

You were great in bed, but what got Jaemin’s heart racing was the way you laughed when he made a lame joke and you couldn’t get over how terrible it was; the way you told stories with your hands, and your face would light up because you would get so excited; the way the food you made looked absolutely nauseating but, for whatever reason, it tasted amazing, and Jaemin could go on, but he was afraid he’d start melting in front of Jeno.

“No way,” Jaemin lied. “It’s just for the sex, that’s all.”

It wasn’t fair that you always showed up at the one place Jaemin was most vulnerable: basketball practice.

Truth be told, you were causing Jaemin problems well before you even arrived. Hell, you had been causing problems for the past three weeks. Not that Jaemin hated it, but he couldn’t keep it in his pants every time you dragged him to a blind spot or invited him to your place. There were also times where Jaemin would just simply walk with you, or talk about your day in bed, or just hold your hand and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

Pretty weird for fuckbuddies.

Earlier in the day, Jaemin had run into you while he was walking to his biology lecture, and after some light conversation, he had you pinned up against the back of a building. He ended up getting a very noticeable hickey on his neck from you that he didn’t know existed until Jaehyun pointed it out during practice.

“Jaemin.” Jaehyun let out a low whistle and gestured to his neck. “Finally got over your weird celibacy phase?”

“What are you—”

“Nice hickey,” Yuta complimented while he was passing by, “finally got laid, huh?”

Only then did Jaemin realize that you had marked up his neck, and did so proudly. You knew people would see but you still went ahead and did it. Jaemin would’ve been mad but somehow, the thought of showing off something you caused turned him on.

Thankfully, you showed up when practice had ended and the others were heading into the locker room, all sweaty and tired. Absorbed in their own conversations, the rest of Jaemin’s teammates were focused on talking about their last play and looking forward to a cold shower. Jaemin, however, did a double-take when he saw you, nudging Jeno to keep going while he stayed back.

You really had no good reason coming to the basketball courts. It wasn’t like you or your big brother actually wanted to walk home together.

“I’m starting to think you come here to see me,” Jaemin said smugly, making his way over to you.

“Not even,” you replied, although your fazed look said otherwise. “But I appreciate the eye candy.”

Jaemin reached out to take your hands in his and pulled you toward him. You looked down at your feet, right foot circling around one of the stray basketballs that had been left behind during practice. Jaemin, however, had his eyes focused on you. He couldn’t get tired of looking at you, especially when you were wearing that cozy purple sweater that made him want to pull you into his arms.

Jaemin noticed your foot on the basketball and held your hands a little tighter as you put your weight on it to get your other foot on. You were shakily balancing on it, grabbing Jaemin’s hands tightly as a grin slowly spread across your face.

You’re too cute, was what Jaemin wanted to say.

“You’re still shorter than me even when you’re standing on a basketball,” he teased instead, one hand slipping around your waist to keep you steady.

You pouted. “I’m basically the same height as you now.”

“Really?” Jaemin smirked at your expression, moving closer so that his lips were at your forehead. He moved his hands so they were both holding your waist, keeping you planted on the basketball. “I think I still have an inch or two on you.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, but Jaemin was tilting your chin up and smiling at how you were visibly growing shy. “Jaemin, my brother might walk out any second.”

“Fuck your brother,” Jaemin murmured and kissed you.

People threw around the term “time slowed down” so casually, that Jaemin believed it was a silly hoax; however, he was starting to understand it. Each kiss he shared with you before felt so rushed, but now, everything around him didn’t matter anymore. It was like every fear, every concern he had was lost as he was lost in the taste of your lips.

Your hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss and making Jaemin nearly forget that you were barely balancing on a basketball. He tightened his hold around you when you pulled a hand away to run through his hair and god, he relished that feeling. When he desperately needed air again, Jaemin pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip cheekily as he did so.

He didn’t want to see your reaction, though, so he pulled you down from the basketball and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You were visually overwhelming, anyway, and Jaemin wasn’t too keen on seeing your reaction to his tenderness. Jaemin felt like such a melt for being this affected over a simple kiss, but all he wanted at the moment was to be closer to you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, shocked by his sudden intimacy.

“Shut up,” he murmured into your neck, “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Bruh.”

Jaemin didn’t process the fact that a third person was in the gym until it registered that the masculine voice couldn’t have been coming from you. On the bright side, the voice came from the one person who knew about whatever was going on between you and Jaemin. He then wondered why he was starting to become an optimist.

You and Jaemin both pulled away quickly like repelling magnets. There was a flicker of panic in your eyes, seeming to cool down when you noticed that Jaemin wasn’t freaking out. It was quite devastating for Jaemin to come to realize that he was the standard for what to worry over.

Jaemin, not sparing you a glance, walked over to where his best friend was standing and shoved him, not straying from his direct route to the locker room.

“You have some explaining to do,” Jeno muttered before Jaemin passed him.

“Fuck off, Jeno.”

Jeno flashed a sheepish grin at you before turning back to follow Jaemin, patting him firmly on the back to tease him. Jaemin, however, was unsettled. Whatever he felt for you was moving past sexual attraction to something much deeper, and he wasn’t sure if he could suppress it any longer.

You truly were the cat, and although Jaemin refused to believe it, you had already caught him.

Jeno somehow managed to stay quiet about what had happened between you and Jaemin until after they reached their apartment. Jaemin almost believed he was going to pretend like he didn’t see anything, but it would be laughable to think that Lee Jeno wouldn’t mock him about it.

“That’s the thing with fuckbuddies,” Jeno explained as he shrugged off his coat, “someone’s gonna catch feelings eventually.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” Jaemin spat, tone laced with sarcasm. “You never cease to make me feel like shit.”

“So you admit that you caught feelings?”

It was like an arrow through a bullseye, not that Jaemin was going to admit to that, but the thought of him potentially catching feelings for you was terrifying. It was even more frightening because he probably already did. This was supposed to be the time where Jaemin blanched and would become shockingly avoidant around you, but he was waiting for those instincts to kick in rather than the desperate urge to run over and kiss you.

But, moreover, screw Lee Jeno for majoring in neuroscience. His best friend studying the human brain and its cognition was the worst thing that could have ever happened to Jaemin.

Jaemin paused, hesitating before he spoke, “No… I’m just worried that one of us will.”

Jeno raised a brow at him. “Whatever you two were doing was not normal for fuckbuddies.”

“It’s called hugging, Jeno. It’s not my fault you have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Jaemin moved to sit on the couch, turning his back to Jeno and hugging a pillow as he shrunk back into the cushion. But Jeno knew that Jaemin always listened to what he had to say. It was a natural instinct by now. Although Jaemin would rather die than say it aloud, his best friend always gave the best advice even though it was probably not what Jaemin wanted to hear.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked instead.

Jaemin froze. He was never any good at expressing himself. He presented himself as a simple man on the outside, but he was really just layers of multitudes. But, sometimes, your mere attention was like uncut cocaine to him, and then Jaemin would wonder if he really was simple.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin muttered back.

“You’re good at being fine, aren’t you?”

Jeno fastidiously fixed his hair before he retreated to his room. Jaemin was surprised by how he cut the advice session this time and left Jaemin to his own thoughts.

Exhausted, Jaemin stared at his lock screen. It was a picture of you and him at a park. Ducks in the pond. You caught off-guard with hair in your mouth. Jaemin with a smile brighter than the sun. Who the fuck took selfies with girls they fucked on the down-low? And who the fuck set them as their wallpapers? Apparently, Jaemin did.

He was sick.

Maybe Jeno was right, but Jaemin refused to accept that possibility because that would make him even more disgusted with himself.

He could only think of one thing and it was how he was in love with you.

Sex was one thing, but love? The number one rule of best friendship was probably don’t fucking fall in love with your best friend’s sister.

Furthermore, Jaemin didn’t know how to act around you now. In the conspectus of Things That Could Go Wrong in his brain, he hadn’t anticipated actually falling for you. He should’ve taken your godsent looks and heavenly laugh as a red flag that first night because now he was addicted.

It wasn’t like Jaemin had absolutely zero experience with girls, but usually, he just went with it. Being the one chasing after you was mentally taxing and the thought of you possibly not wanting him back was unthinkable. Then again, it was pretty clear that it was mutual between the two of you, but Jaemin was confident that you were a breath away from snapping at him for his inconsistency.

He was the one that pushed you away, after all. A sudden transition from resisting to wanting you completely was sure to freak you out, so Jaemin was stuck at a crossroads.

After a few Google searches of asking the internet if he caught feelings and an episode of self-denial and self-loathing, Jaemin decided it was high time for him to call you and tell you how he felt. That, or he was going to panic and break things off before he got emotionally invested.

Before he could do either, Jeno walked back to the living room, putting his coat back on. He looked dressed up as if he was going out somewhere, and Jaemin’s suspicions were confirmed when he went to get his shoes.

“What’re you all dressed up for?” Jaemin asked, sitting up straight again.

“Jaehyun’s house.” Jeno raised a brow at him. “It’s Friday.”

God, if you’re out there, Jaemin thought, defeated. Screw you and your son. Amen.

Jaemin had to psych himself into the proper state of mind for tonight.

That all went to shit, however, when he saw you sitting in the living room, laughing at something Yuta had said.

“Oh my god,” Jeno said in a low voice when he saw Jaemin frozen in the doorway. “Tell me you’re not jealous right now.”

“Piss off,” Jaemin spat, kicking off his shoes at the entrance. “It’s nothing like that.”

Except that it was exactly like that. Jaemin wasn’t the jealous type, but right now, his blood was roiling in his gut. Deep inside, he knew it was probably nothing to worry about, but the way you smiled around Yuta was pissing him off. Then, he realized that he had no relationship with you that gave him any right to stop Yuta from flirting with you.

And then, you turned to see Jaemin in the doorway and smiled at him.

Oh no, Jaemin thought in complete devastation. She’s pretty.

“Y/N, tonight’s for the basketball team,” Jaehyun told you from the living room, making a motion with his hands to signal you to leave. “Go to your room.”

“You’re such a nosy older brother,” YangYang chimed in, nudging a chuckle out of Jaehyun. “But yeah, Y/N, Friday nights are for the boys.”

“I know, I know,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll go now. I was just grabbing some water.”

Jaemin was still frozen stiff at the doorway as you grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from the kitchen counter (despite Jeno’s several attempts to get him to move) and then walked to the staircase to Jaemin’s left. But then you grabbed Jaemin by the front of his shirt and started dragging him upstairs with you. He barely registered it all happening in the span of a few seconds, but he was able to catch Jeno saying he’d tell the others that Jaemin was running late.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Jaemin whispered harshly, although he still followed you into your room and let you lock the door.

This was far too risky. Not only was Jaehyun home, but the entire basketball team was downstairs.

You started tying your hair up and Jaemin gulped, realizing where this was going. “Do you want me to suck you off or not?” you asked, smiling.

“Say no more,” Jaemin breathed out, unzipping his pants hastily.

He sat down on your bed, letting you tug his boxers down, your eyes full of mirth. Jaemin felt so pathetic when his cock twitched as soon as you wrapped a hand around its girth, but he was ready to put his pride to the side for once.

Jaemin was about to rasp out something but then you took his head in your mouth and a sudden wave of heat punched him in the gut. But then you pulled away, lips against the underside of his head, and Jaemin was a second away from just crying.

“You have nice hands,” you complimented with a mischievous smile as Jaemin held the back of your head eagerly. He felt like he was going crazy with the way you were mouthing your words against his cock.

“You have nice lips,” he returned through gritted teeth. “But please shut the fuck up and get to it already.”

Your lips curled slowly. “So impatient,” you cooed, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. Jaemin bucked his hips forward, trying to chase the sensation, but you were teasing him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.”

You smirked up at him, moving your head to lick against the slit before taking his cock in your mouth again. A few laborious seconds passed with Jaemin biting his lip so that he didn’t make any noise, and then you finally started sucking him off. He fought the urge not to groan when your tongue rolled along the vein down his shaft.

You showed Jaemin no mercy, however. It was almost like you wanted everyone downstairs to hear. He gritted his teeth when your teeth grazed his cock, and he wanted more. He gripped your hair for anchorage and fucked into your mouth. The smallest whimper escaped you when Jaemin’s cock hit the back of your throat.

Jaemin let out a strangled groan. “I’m close.”

You took this as your cue to suck him off even harsher, and Jaemin was on the brink of sweet release. A tear escaped your eyes as he fucked into your throat, and Jaemin wiped it with his thumb, drinking in the wrecked sight of you that was bringing him over the edge. You let a broken moan vibrate against Jaemin’s shaft, and he was done for.

Jaemin couldn’t recall being able to cum this fast because of someone’s mouth before, but here he was, groaning as his hot seed shot down your throat. You obediently swallowed it, eyes hazy and tear-soaked from the size of him.

A few moments of silence passed before Jaemin leaned down and pecked your lips, heart fluttering a bit in his chest as he did so. “Good girl.”

He swore he saw you lifting a finger to scratch your cheek lightly, which was a nervous quirk of yours that Jaemin had picked up on, but you turned away quickly to fix your hair while Jaemin was pulling his pants back up. The tension that followed made Jaemin unsure of whether to leave or take you against the wall. He decided against the latter, knowing that Jeno couldn’t stall forever.

“Leaving already?” you asked, reaching for Jaemin’s hand, which he gladly entwined with yours.

“I’m already on thin ice,” Jaemin explained. “I have to go back down there and hope they don’t question me.” You moved closer to him, hands moving down to graze past his waistband. Jaemin hissed slightly under his breath and diverted by rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, so you and Yuta…”

“You’re still on that?” you asked, pulling your hands back. “I can’t laugh around another guy now?”

“No, no!” Jaemin groaned, tugging a hand through his hair out of frustration. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Is it not obvious, Jaemin?” you asked him, an edge of desperation to your voice. “You really can’t tell how I feel?”

Jaemin sighed, looking down at his feet. “You can’t tell how I feel either?”

“You—what?”

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.”

He turned to go back downstairs, but you grabbed his wrist, saying, “Jaemin, remember that you’re the one who didn’t want anything more out of this.”

Jaemin gave you a puzzled look but before he could ask for clarification, you had pulled away from him and gestured for him to leave. He mumbled a pathetic excuse, spitting out a string of words for a moment before he gave up and snuck downstairs as quietly as he could.

He hated that you were right. Even though you had suggested sneaking around, Jaemin was the one who tried to draw the boundary. He did this to himself.

“Yo, Jaemin,” Yuta called, “when did you get here?”

“Just now,” Jaemin answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room where all the basketball team members were sprawled over the couch. “What’re we watching?”

“Pulp Fiction,” Taeyong answered. “Can you get the ice cream from the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Jaemin opened Jaehyun’s freezer to see two tubs of ice cream nestled in the corner. While he was pondering over whether to grab chocolate or vanilla, he felt a presence behind him and looked over his shoulder. “Did you need—oh my god, go to your room,” he whispered harshly at the sight of you.

“Are you my mom?” You raised a brow at him and reached for an ice cream tub. “Let me help you open them.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, voice fracturing at the end. He watched you move to the kitchen’s island and, carefully eyeing his teammates in the living room, letting his hand graze your thigh and whispering, “Hey, I’m sorry for earlier.”

You stiffened at his touch. “It’s fine,” you whispered back, opening the tubs of ice cream. “You’ve just been acting weird lately.”

“Weird?” Jaemin asked as he opened his tub. The ice cream dripped off the lid and onto Jaemin’s finger. “Ugh. Do you have napkins?”

“You’re so messy, Jaemin.”

“Shut up.”

“Let me help,” you insisted, grabbing his wrist and taking his fingers in your mouth.

Jaemin’s eyes widened by a fraction as your hot tongue circled around his fingers. He fought down the urge to take it further and bit his lip as he watched you. Before he could do anything, however, an awkward laugh and wolf-whistle from the living room made him freeze.

Jaemin’s head shot up to see his teammates staring at him, shell-shocked. Some looked absolutely confused while others looked more proud and impressed. Jaemin wondered if you had no shame because, despite all the eyes on them, you didn’t let go of his hand, your pretty lips still wrapped around his fingers.

“I don’t know why she’s doing that,” Jaemin rambled quickly, and his tone was so frazzled that Jeno had to hide his laugh behind his fist. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, voice dropping for you to hear. “Let go of my hand.”

It would have been sexy if Jaemin wasn’t absolutely terrified.

Only when Jaemin caught sight of Jaehyun’s expression did you let go, saying, “Thanks for the ice cream.” With a playful smile, you looked up at Jaemin expectantly.

“What the fuck did we just witness?” Jungwoo asked, lit up silly like he had just witnessed the biggest scandal.

“We’re friends,” Jaemin croaked out. “Right, Y/N? Jaehyun? Jeno?”

Jeno ducked his head and Jaemin could tell what exactly he was thinking: I can’t help you out of this one, Jaem.

Jaemin couldn’t exactly read Jaehyun’s expression. It was a mix of emotions so varied that they didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t even pick out any distinguishable one, but maybe it was better he didn’t know what the captain was feeling.

“I swear, it's not what it looks like,” Jaemin defended.

“So Y/N wasn’t sucking on your fingers?” Taeyong asked, a ghost of a laugh on his lips.

“Okay, so it’s exactly what it looks like,” Jaemin muttered and pursed his lips together. “But it’s—it’s nothing,” he reasoned, and at this point, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

Either way, it wasn’t working.

Who was he kidding, anyway? They weren’t stupid, and it was clear as day that Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. For heaven's sake, he even got jealous over Yuta making you laugh. Before, one would have to pry open the cold, hard jaws of his corpse to get a word out about how he felt, but now Jaemin felt like you had broken down his last line of defense.

Jaemin could already see the consequences that would follow, but he still blurted out, “Fine. You got me. Jaehyun, I’m in love with your sister.”

Jaemin’s neurons were tearing themselves over the fact that Jaemin had just professed his love to you and was now experiencing a state of total humiliation. He was confident he wouldn’t ever live this moment down.

The room went silent. Not only were the boys shocked, but you were, too. Jaemin himself couldn’t believe he let that slip, but there was no going back now. Jeno sat there with his jaw hung open and Jaemin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t even know he was going to drop the love bomb like that out of nowhere. Taeyong looked like he had just witnessed a murder as his eyes kept darting between Jaemin and Jaehyun, Jungwoo looked a little too proud, and Yuta was just washed over with realization.

“Oh.” Jaehyun blinked. “Cool, I guess. Does that mean you’re not joining us for movie night then?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how obvious the shock showed on his face, but this felt too easy. For a little over a month, Jaemin had been skirting around his relationship with you because of your big brother, and now he was acting scarily nonchalant.

“You’re not mad?” Jaemin asked, wide-eyed.

Jaehyun laughed. “I mean, it’s kinda weird that you’re dating my little sister, but why would I be mad?”

“Maybe it’s because you said ‘if anyone lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are,’” Yuta reminded him with Jaemin nodding along at his words. “And that was verbatim.”

“That’s for people hitting on my sister to get laid, not people dating my sister,” Jaehyun corrected. “I don’t control her decisions.”

Jaemin smiled through the internal pain of realizing he did exactly that. If Jaehyun found out he wasn’t dating you, then Jaemin was in for an earful. Thankfully, you were too dazed over Jaemin’s earlier confession to decide to start shit.

“Plus,” Jaehyun continued, “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“What?” Jaemin spluttered, blinking wildly. His tongue was performing acrobatics to formulate words but it wasn’t working.

“I had a suspicion when you climbed up my tree to get into the house,” Jaehyun said. “When I walked into the room later, that just confirmed my suspicions because, you know…”

Jaemin’s cheeks went hot when he realized that Jaehyun had probably caught onto the fact that he had a boner back then. Without a word, you rushed out of the kitchen, gaze averted which was what Jaemin supposed was embarrassment. Jaemin heard the front door open and close. He turned to follow after you, but swallowed thickly and froze in place.

“Go, Jaemin,” Jeno urged him, a tone of seriousness taking over.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” YangYang said cooly. “It’s just movie night.”

Jaemin clenched his jaw and nodded, thinking about how shitty it would be if he did all of that just to be rejected. Jaehyun’s house was a warzone and he knew better than to come tonight, but he still did, and he still fucked everything up. If things went wrong with you—

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun cut into his thoughts, “just so you know, I’m cool with you dating my sister.”

It was funny how a few words could make someone’s day, but Jaemin was surprised at the weight those words took off of his shoulders. He contained the joy to a half-smile and left the kitchen and walked out of your house to find you.

You hadn’t gone far at all. You were pacing along the sidewalk looking frazzled, hands lacing together and eyes cast down. Jaemin walked over to you and tried to take your hand but you pulled away.

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, overcome with raw emotion.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I’m the one who didn’t want to start anything, and I lied about not wanting anything, but… this is how I feel, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not exactly expressive if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed,” you replied incredulously, lower lip starting to quiver. “I just—I don’t know—I thought I was just going to be an afterthought to you.”

Jaemin froze when he saw tears start to gloss your eyes. He never knew how to deal with people crying, especially when they were girls. He took your face in his hands and wiped your stray tears away with his thumbs, sighing softly.

“Let’s go to my place.”

“What? Why?”

“I need to show you how much I love you,” he replied firmly, taking your hand in his and walking in the direction of his apartment. “It’s kind of funny that you thought that because you’ve been all I could think about for the past month.”

More tears were starting to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

Stay calm, Jaemin’s brain instructed him. Cupid can sense your fear.

“I love you,” he continued. “Should I say it again? I love you, I love you, I love—”

“Alright, Jaemin!” Your face beamed like a Christmas tree but you were still a flustered mess. “God, stop looking at me like that.”

“No,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’m going to keep saying it because I don’t think you get it.”

“Jaemin, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk,” you squeaked out as he kissed your cheek.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss.

“J-Jaemin, I get it,” you whined out, scrunching your nose up at his affection. Jaemin continued, though, and you happened to reach your limit. You gripped his shoulders and held him away from you. “God, Jaemin, I love you, okay? You have to give me a chance to say it back at least.”

This time, Jaemin was the one to get shy. “Huh? You like me back?”

“Jaemin, you idiot, you’re so slow,” you mused, “I’ve liked you this entire time.”

He took your hand, his gaze never leaving yours, and rubbed your palm in circles with his thumb. “I know I’ve been a dick… on multiple occasions,” he admitted, “but I want to be with you.”

“Jaemin—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

Jaemin wondered how many seconds passed after, but it felt like centuries to him. He didn’t budge, however, because he wanted you more than ever.

“Yes,” you finally confessed, which, in essence, was a fever dream in itself.

Jaemin expected his reaction to be different, but instead, his eyes wandered off, lost in thought. He looked toward the moon overlooking that hill where he nearly hooked up with you on the night of the party. That felt like eons ago despite being not that long ago, but it carried a comforting wave of nostalgia.

“You know, on second thought, we’re gonna stargaze.”

You looked at Jaemin like he was some undiscovered specimen, but you still followed him. He laid on his back, scrunching up his nose when the grass tickled his face, and he held his hand out to you. You took it, crouching down to lay down next to him. This time, Jaemin spread his arm out so that you could lay against his chest.

You cuddled up against his chest and Jaemin thought he could die a happy man.

He looked over at you, heart hammering against his ribcage like he was hopped up on ten energy drinks. The glow of the moon illuminated the gentle curves of your face and Jaemin didn’t realize he was kissing you until he realized he had tilted your face toward him and cupped your soft cheek. His whole body felt fuzzy when your hands rested on his chest, when he could taste your fruity chapstick.

It was kind of embarrassing how nervous Jaemin was getting. His hands were starting to sweat and he was feeling kiss-dazed, smiling like an idiot because your soft lips were everything. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips one last time, his eyes unable to leave your face.

He threw his pride to the wind and confessed, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your expression was priceless. Jaemin indulged in watching you become a stuttering, faltering mess in front of him, struggling for words that could come out coherently.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t call anyone beautiful over your dead body,” you managed.

“Well, you’re not anyone, are you?” Jaemin raised a brow “You’re Y/N.”

“You’re such a smooth talker sometimes,” you acknowledged, “you know, when you’re not completely malfunctioning.”

“Shh.” Jaemin pulled you closer. “Let me enjoy this.”

“Fine, but you’re making it up to me later for playing cat and mouse for a month.”

Jaemin scoffed. “Please, I was the mouse most of the time.”

A bubble of a laugh escaped your lips and you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. “I’m really happy, you know?” you mumbled into his chest.

Jaemin kissed the top of your head, whispering a “yeah” into your hair. Maybe one day he’d admit that he was just as over-the-moon as you were, and maybe it would be coerced out of him hours later, but right now, under the starry night sky, he could only think about how lucky he was. It was funny, though, because now he could see the stars.

And they were so beautiful.

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[2jaeh]

ORPHIC : YUTA X READER

genre: smut, angst

warnings: mature themes, enemies to lovers kinda, kinda toxic theme, multiple smut scenes, swearing, alcohol, toys. 

slight jenoxreader 

word count : 17,5k (sorrry he’s my ult)

author: sin! 

You and Yuta never had a good relationship within your group of friends. The closest the two of you ever came to even slightly caring about each other was...in bed. After some friendly advice you decide to venture out of this toxicity and an old friend comes to the rescue. Thinking things will finally settle and you are ready to move on, Yuta comes to the realization that he wasn't a fan of you leaving him for someone else. 

A/N: WHOA this took me so long to write and rn its 2am and I barely proofread anything and just wanted to post it already! ALSO I just wanted to add Jeno is practically my ult as well and I wanted to use him for this scenario ! I promise Ill make it up to you guys with a full length fic of him lol Anyways enjoy. 

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You couldn’t understand why you hated him so much. Was it the way he did his hair ? The way he rolled his eyes at every snarky remark you directed at him ?

Or was it the way he stared at you from across the room, a smirk on his face signaling that it was going to be one of those nights.

You joined this collective of artists or the “blank space” as you were known to the public, a year ago. The team did everything from clothing to organizing crazy exhibitions, and the best part of it all was that the team members remained anonymous.

Now some of the members were already in the spotlight for their personal artworks and collections but anything under blank space was under that name only, promoted only under its respective social media accounts. The collective was founded by Taeyong, an introverted guy you met at a fashion show you once worked at. He approached you the night your art hit the runway and you’ve been working for him ever since.

You didn’t know everybody under Blank Space except for the people Taeyong trusted the most. Which from possibly 50 designers, only reduced to a total of nine close friends.

Taeyong, Johnny, Ten, Renjun, YangYang, Doyoung, Sungchan, Lucas and You.

And then, there was one person you called a friend when the mood was right. When he was not being an absolute pain in the ass.

Yuta Nakamoto.

————————————————————————

“So there’s a launch happening this weekend over at the shed” Taeyong announced to your friend group who were barely paying attention thanks to Yangyang attempting to stuff four marshmallows into his mouth. “Come on you can do one more” Lucas edged him on while Renjun shook his head disapprovingly and Sungchan tried to suppress his laughter.

“Guys please pay attention” Doyoung, the only type of authority around here spoke up, finally quieting down the room and allowing his best friend to speak.

Taeyong cleared his throat and shifted nervously as all eyes were focused on him again. “I’d like all of us to attend, maybe look for a new recruit” the timid pink haired boy spoke and everyone nodded knowing the routine of these launches at this point.

“Can we party hard or is this just one of those save face kinda gigs ?” Yuta raised his hand and the spark in Lucas’s eyes indicated that he may have had the same idea.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your leg over the other, “Yuta’s having a dry spell he wants to find some damsel in distress to get into his bed” you turned to him and he only smirked at your snarky comment.

“Well now y/n it’s only because you haven’t been in the mood for my dick lately” he pouted and Renjun threw his head back, followed by groans from both Johnny and Ten.

“I’m not in the mood for the two of you today seriously” Ten chimed in, rubbing his temples just waiting for this group meeting to be over. “Yeah me too” Johnny added, “you two fight the entire week then hook up over the weekend, we are tired.”

“Why are you guys tired ? Are you doing the fighting and fucking ?” Yuta scoffed and Doyoung jumped to his feet, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at the scowling black haired man,

“This is a work meeting. If it's not about work” Doyoung eyes moved to you, “then we don’t want to hear about it.”

You nodded after getting reprimanded but Yuta being Yuta just snickered and downed the rest of his coffee, unbothered by what any of the people in the room had to say about him.

“Okay then well I’ll see you guys Friday night, if you find a possible recruitment just text the group chat and we will decide as a team then and there” Taeyong wrapped up the meeting and everyone dispersed back to their work stations to finish up any outstanding projects.

Blank Space had its own office block but you guys were the only ones with a private floor at the very end of the hallway, far away from the part-timers.

Everyone had their own cubicle made up of makeshift drywall, so it was private but not private enough. Taeyong felt that closed offices made no sense for a room of creatives and when working on bigger projects it was easier for members to move their stations to their partners' cubicles.

Your cubicle though had the unfortunate fate of being placed in front of Yuta. The members had tried to swap with either of you but neither of you budged. Moving meant there was a problem and showing that you had an actual problem with the other person meant it could sabotage the team and things may go sour.

So both of you conceded. Trying your absolute best to stay out of the other person's way during work hours. But it was impossible when bickering was just something you guys did.

From the very beginning You and Yuta had disagreed on almost everything. Both of you were pretty stubborn people and had a very similar mindset. Then on a random drunken night Johnny suggested that you and Yuta needed to release your anger in bed and the next day you’d be best friends. Yuta was pretty adamant on the idea and not only did you hook up once, it became this ongoing hell of fighting, building up your anger and releasing it during mind blowing sex.

Neither of you questioned the abnormality of your relationship. Rather, you ignored the red flags and the toxicity of it all and just assumed attraction only happened through liquor, high sexual needs and boredom.

“Hey y/n sorry about snapping like that earlier” Doyoung stepped into your cubicle, his gummy smile showing as he nervously scratched his head.  “It’s no problem, I’m sorry about my stupid comment” you pressed your lips together feeling a tad guilty that it all started because of you.

“You guys really love riling each other up don’t you?” Doyoung took a seat opposite you which was a bit unnatural for anyone who walked by. Doyoung was a very reserved person and never bothered to converse with any of you besides Taeyong. Unlike the rest of you Doyoung was recruited to handle finances and foresee the operation. He appreciated the arts but never delved in it, hence his awkwardness with the openness and unhinged personalities of the group.

“I get that it can be...exhausting” you sighed, propping your elbows up on the counter and pouting.

“Then why do you continue ?” Doyoung quizzed and you shrugged, “stress relief ?”

Doyoung chuckled at your words and pushed his spectacles up his bridge, “you guys are the ones stressing each other out,” Doyoung turned back to look at Yuta who was busy sketching and turned back to face you,

“All I’m saying is that maybe it’s time to look for a stress reliever that doesn’t result in anger the very next day, you guys need to move on.”

Move on.

Doyoung’s words swam in your mind hours after the short conversation had ended and you wondered if it was indeed time to move on. You looked up from your desk and to your surprise Yuta’s eyes were locked with yours as he twirled a lollipop in his mouth.

The issue was, as much as you hated him you couldn’t deny he was so goddamn hot. From the long hair to the edgy attire, physically he was your type. Personality on the other hand, it was like nails against a chalkboard.

Unbearable.

You kept your eyes locked with him until he slowly pulled the sweet out of his mouth, licked his lips and blew you a cheeky kiss from across the room.

“Moron” you mumbled and shook your head trying to ignore his devilish motives and get back to work.

Doyoung was right. You definitely needed to find someone to distract yourself from Yuta’s hold over you.

———————————————————————-

It was the night of the launch and everybody showed up with their own rides and  began mingling with former clients and partners. You arrived with Ten and Lucas who already decided to pre-game drinks just in case ‘there wasn’t enough at the party.’

“Hey please do us a favor and not hook up with Yuta tonight” Ten wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you maneuvered through the groups of people. “Not planning on it” you replied in his ear, “and besides Doyoung already beat you to that pep talk.”

“Doyoung ?” Ten wrinkled his nose before ordering the two of you a mojito from the open bar.

“Yeah he said that I should move on, possibly find a new hookup” you shrugged, retrieving the drink and headed to a balcony that overlooked the first floor of the launch party. There were bodies of people everywhere, networking, checking out merchandise or just getting plain wasted.

“Seems like Lucas has already been cut off from the open bar” Ten pointed out, watching the tall man try to push his way back to the bar but the bouncer refused him to do so.

“Let me go help him out, I'll catch up later” Ten sighed and gave you a pat on your shoulder, “and yeah find a new hookup, if Yuta gets to sleep around so can you.”

You watched Ten disappear into the crowd and twirled the glass in your hand wishing what he had said was that easy.

There were no rules about hooking up with other people or just any reinforcements in general when it came to you and Yuta. But you we’re well aware of his loose sex life. There were many times where Yuta ended up going home with some random person if he wasn’t in the mood to hook up with you. But You on the other hand, never bothered these days because you were either too busy or whoever you met just ended up boring you to death.

“Y/n ?” You heard someone say from behind you and to your surprise it was a face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jeno ? Oh my God” you quickly gave the blonde boy a quick hug, taken back by how much he had filled out since high school.

Jeno used to help you out from time to time during proms and fashion shows, lending out his strength to build anything from sculptures to installation art in the city.

“I was wondering when I was going to bump into you at one of these shows” his bright smile turned his eyes into crescents as he joined you at the balustrade. The Jeno you knew in high school was a lanky shy kinda guy but the Jeno you saw now was confident, mature and outright gorgeous.

“I’m quite surprised seeing you here actually” you chuckled shyly, “I didn’t know you’d pursue anything in this field to be honest.”

“Wow” Jeno mouthed and cutely grinned, “hmm that kinda hurt considering I’m the one who made the centerpiece of this entire launch”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the structure of colored sharpies bound together to create a giant rubix cube in the middle of the party. “Holy shit that’s awesome my boss would absolutely love you” you gasped, knowing Taeyong absolutely loved installation art especially at a large scale like this.

“Oh who’s your boss ? I’m actually a free agent right now” Jeno replied and you quickly remembered the reason you were even at the launch in the first place. “Wait! We’re looking for recruits right now, let me just tell the others about it” you said excitedly, handing Jeno your drink and pulled up the group chat on your phone.

A few minutes later everyone confirmed the meeting place of a private room located on the second floor, quiet enough for a quick interview and decision. The best part of this job was everyone was so connected that there was no need to go through the process of a full portfolio look and a million interviews, all you needed was a trusted ally within the group to vouch for you and you were already one foot in.

“Ten and Yangyang took Lucas home after he tried to challenge the bartender to an arm wrestling match” Johnny entered the room and sipped his whiskey while Renjun and Sungchan followed close behind him. Taeyong and Doyoung stood in front of the room discussing something amongst themselves while you and Jeno took a seat on the burgundy couch.

Yuta entered shortly after, drink in hand and you noticed his eyes narrow in on Jeno who sat close to you. “Okay everyone who’s able to make it is here let’s get started” Taeyong clasped his hands together, “everybody this is Jeno Lee and a long time friend of y/n.”

“Not that long but yeah we did work together” Jeno chuckled and got to his feet, “well I’m an installation artist, I actually made the centerpiece in tonight’s launch.”

“Wow, it's amazing!” Renjun complimented and Sungchan agreed, giving Jeno a thumbs up, “yeah man that piece is brilliant.”

Jeno smiled from ear to ear as the meeting proceeded with everyone going through a few of Jenos works and what he could bring to the team. While your teammates concentrated on Jenos work all you could concentrate on was Jeno himself.

You wondered if Jeno knew how gorgeous he was in his effortless tank top and denim jeans combo. You hoped no one caught you staring but someone was well aware of your actions.

Yuta watched how you looked at the young guy, he wasn’t stupid, he knew when you found someone attractive and the way you were ogling Jeno right now, he didn’t like it at all.

The meeting ended and everyone welcomed Jeno to the collective. Johnny gave him a few pointers on which coffee to order from the cafe next to the office and Sungchan exchanged gamer tags with his new friend.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday” you waved as everyone exited the meeting and before you could make your way to catch up with Jeno and Sungchan you were being pulled back into the room.

“Your place or mine ?” Yuta mused and snaked an arm around your waist, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“Neither” you responded, “I’m gonna hang with Jeno and head home, you should find that little damsel to play with”

“Don’t be difficult y/n we're long overdue for our therapy session now” he groaned, pressing his lips to your ear and jaw. As much as he aroused you by just breathing you thought about what Doyoung had said, you needed to move on from this mess.

“Listen I think we need to just stop our sessions” you stepped away from him leaving Yuta slightly taken back from your actions, “let’s move on, be out of each other’s way and not make the group uncomfortable okay ?”

Yuta watched you press your lips together and finally make your exit, leaving him completely alone. You denied his advances for the first time since the two of you started sleeping together and something in him broke.

————————————————————————

Monday came around and the whole team buzzed about Jeno joining the team. Usually a new recruit would hang downstairs with the part time designers but because Taeyong trusted your judgement on Jeno, he was able to integrate with the team.

“Man that Jeno guy seems real chill” Yangyang hopped alongside Johnny and Yuta who were doing the morning coffee run. Yuta kept his composure despite knowing he wasn’t a huge fan of someone new joining the team and throwing off the dynamic. Hands in his pocket he ignored Yangyangs endless questions about the meeting, allowing Johnny to entertain the eager young boy.

“All I know is that having Jeno around means I don’t have to do all the carrying when Lucas bails on me” Johnny sipped his drink as they made their way back to their office. To their surprise Jeno had just arrived, looking like a lost puppy as he examined the names of the floors next to the secretary desk.

“Speak of the devil” Johnny threw his arm around Jeno, startling the boy and led him over to the elevator, “we’re at the top floor newbie, make sure to get an access card from Taeyong.”

“T-thanks” Jeno grinned and bowed politely to both Yuta and Yangyang before stepping into the elevator. The other guys barely bothered with Yuta’s reaction to Jeno because he rarely liked anyone enough to show any sign of enthusiasm. Jeno wasn’t going to change that.

The elevator opened to the top floor and Jeno awed at the chilled atmosphere you all had created here. From Ten’s thousands of plants around the room, Taeyongs fish, a pool table brought in by Lucas and gaming stations set up by Sungchan, it looked like paradise.

“This....is so cool oh my God” Jeno stepped in, his eyes wandering all over the place until it locked on you hanging over at the fish tank with Taeyong.

“Y/n!” Jeno jogged over and you greeted him with a wide smile and a tight hug, “Jeno you made it!” You gleamed. Jeno quickly shook Taeyong’s hand unsure of how formal of a boss he actually was.

“Whoa I feel like a principal” Taeyong giggled as he dropped a few fish flakes for his babies. “Wow, does everybody have their own cubicle ?” Jeno strolled around the room taking a peak at the vast versions of decor each cubicle adorned.

“Yeah” you responded, “but I don’t think yours is ready yet right Doyoung ?”

“That’s right,” Doyoung replied and folded his arms across his chest, “you don’t mind sharing for the week do you ?”

Jeno shrugged and looked over at you, “I was hoping to catch up with y/n anyway, I don’t mind sharing if it’s okay with you ?”

“It’s perfectly fine” you assured him and gestured over to your cubicle, “me casa is su casa.”

“I’m just gonna need some admin stuff sorted Jeno can you join me for a bit ?” Doyoung asked and Jeno nodded, giving you a quick hug before heading off to the administration offices with Doyoung. You watched the blonde guy exit and something just felt so much brighter in the office. You felt a sense of excitement of what’s to come now that Jeno was back in your life. But like all sunny days there always comes a thunderstorm and yours was staring you down like he was waiting to rain on your parade.

“What ?” You blinked, and Yuta shrugged as he peeked into your cubicle. “It’s a bit small isn’t it ? Don’t think two people can work in here” he raised his brow and looked over at you.

“It’s fine” you sighed and pushed past him, “it’s only for a week and he’s not a stranger to me, why do you care ?”

“I don’t” Yuta mumbled, dragging his feet back to his cubicle leaving you questioning his slightly odd behavior. Your mind quickly snapped out of it when Jeno had made his way back, that bright smile spread across his face and suddenly it felt like sunshine filled the room once more.

“I’m back!” He sang and pulled a chair opposite you, retrieving his laptop already looking like a regular in the office.

“Did Doyoung tell you about tonight ? Our little welcoming party over at Kleo’s Sky Bar ?” You asked, skimming through your emails for the day. “Oh, yeah he did, I mean you guys don’t have to do all of this” Jeno chuckled shyly, those pretty eyes distracting you for the third time that day.

“Nah we do it for everyone, and it’s better you know everyone drunk to avoid future surprises” you pointed over to Lucas who was coaching Yangyang through a trick shot at the pool table.  “Gotcha” Jeno nodded, as he watched one of the balls fly off the table and nearly knock Renjun in the back. It was chaos absolutely everyday in the office and you knew Jeno was going to love it here.

But even with Jeno in front of you, your new distraction, your new beginning, like Doyoung and Ten had said you needed, it was a habit at this point to look across the room, wondering what Yuta was up to. You watched him remove his cardigan, exposing his arms in those loose tank tops he always loved to wear as he concentrated on a sketch in front of him. Thankfully he was fully immersed in his work for once to take notice of your eyes on him. You continued observing him, watching him nod along to probably some alternative song blaring in his headphones as he sketched away on his iPad. He was so effortlessly attractive when he wasn’t aware of it.

You needed to snap out of this daydream.

“So are you seeing anyone these days ?”

“Hmm ?”

Jeno laughed as you finally realized that he’d been talking to you and you mentally cursed yourself for even being distracted by Yuta of all people.

“I’m sorry..Uhm no I’m not seeing anyone” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and Jeno nodded cutely, “uh good...uhm not good that you’re alone but I was hoping you weren’t...God I’m still so bad at this”

You felt your cheeks heat up seeing Jeno fumble over his words and get nervous about asking you such a question. He was so adorable and something in you also wondered if he was like this in a relationship, or in the bedroom.

Was he dominant ? Was he passive ? Yuta was very dominant and you’d even rile him up to the point of him making you shut up with his actions.

“Y/n ?” Jeno waved his hand in front of your face and you shook your head, you couldn’t believe you did it again. What the hell was wrong with you ?

“Oh my God Jeno I'm so sorry...these emails are just a pain in the ass” you lied but thankfully Jeno took the bait and nodded, “it’s okay I’ll let you get back to work, I was going to go down to the cafe, do you want anything ?”

“Yeah a cafe latte would be great thank you” You felt guilty but it was still only two days since you decided to cut off Yuta so adjusting was going to take a bit of time.

Jeno had left for the cafe and you quickly dove straight into your work, hoping the time would just fly by. That was until you heard a knock and watched Yuta saunter into your cubicle and take a seat right in front of you. You watched him prop his elbows on the table and his piercing eyes narrowed down on you as if he were waiting for an answer.

“Why are you here ?” You questioned him, doing your best to divert your attention from his chiseled arms and exposed chest.

“I want an explanation,” Yuta said calmly, his voice deep and monotone.

“To what ?” You knew fully well what he was talking about but you were really  not in the mood to talk to him about this.  Yuta sighed and cocked his head to the side, clearly annoyed by your response. “Why the fuck are we calling it quits when we are nothing to each other ? Can’t we just hook up and ignore each other as usual ?” You sensed the annoyance in his voice. Denying him that night was indeed eating him up since you’ve never done it before.

“Yuta that’s the whole point” you rubbed your temples, “if we are nothing to each other then we shouldn’t be hooking up, it just ties us together for absolutely no reason.”

Yuta stayed quiet for a bit and eventually just nodded, “fine do whatever you want I guess.” You watched him walk out, not bothering to give you a second look and you wondered if the unsettling feeling you were experiencing in this moment was how he felt two days ago.

Nothing made sense.

————————————————————————

The evening arrived and everyone was in good spirits because you were all headed to one of your favourite spots in town. “Lucas you gotta do karaoke tonight” Sungchan threw his arm around the large brown haired man as they entered the bar. “Hmm give me a few rounds of drinks first” Lucas stuck out his tongue as he gestured to the waitress to get the gang the usual table.

Thankfully tonight the bar was fairly empty which meant that the gang could really loosen up without the prying eyes of strangers wishing you’d all just leave.

“Wow this place is pretty cool” Jeno gleamed, allowing you to enter the booth first like a true gentleman before scooting right in next to you. Yuta opted for the seat at the very end as usual, so he could sneak off to smoke without bothering any of friends every couple of minutes. The position also gave him a clear view of you and Jeno who were snuggled up in the corner already lost in your own private conversation.

“Beer ?” Johnny nudged Yuta, snapping him out of his fixation. Yuta nodded and slumped back in his seat trying his best to focus on whatever Renjun and Yangyang were talking about. It’s not like him to feel this way. Usually by now he’d be seated next to you, annoying the shit out of you until he saw those pretty eyes glare at him with rage. Then after you’d have a few drinks you’d be leaning on his shoulder, playing with his rings until he offered to take you home, and then-

“To Jeno!” Lucas yelled, lifting up a shot glass of God knows what and rallied everyone to join in on his toast.

“To Jeno” you grinned leaning into Jeno’s side and clinked glasses with him. Jeno felt warm, comforting, he made it so easy for you to just enjoy having him around rather than it being a task. That’s what a healthy relationship was like wasn’t it ?

“Jeno Im glad and also sorry that you have to join the most annoying group of people ever” Doyoung half smiled and Taeyong waved his hand, “we’re not that annoying Jeno I promise” the pink haired boy reassured him despite Renjun and Ten agreeing with Doyoung’s words. Jeno just laughed it off and turned to you with a bright smile as he draped his arm over your shoulder,

“Kinda feels like fate that I bumped into you huh?”

You know he may have been joking but Jeno was really unaware that his presence really was the antidote to getting rid of the Yuta situation. The team loved him, he was someone you knew and could trust, it was all right there for you, written on paper. Nothing could possibly go wrong… right ?  

“Fourth round is on me” Taeyong held up his card to the waitress despite his tired eyes were quite evident. Everyone was well over tipsy and Lucas had already entertained the bar with his beautiful rendition of “Starboy” by The Weeknd and Johnny stepped in as his air guitar player in the back.

“Gotta go to the bathroom!” You whined while Jeno helped you to your feet as you pushed your way past a sleeping Renjun and a spaced out Sungchan. You could tell tonight was going to take a toll on everyone tomorrow morning.

You quickly exited to the back where the bathrooms were located. You walked down the dim hallway, mentally thanking yourself for not overdoing it with the alcohol as each step became darker and darker.

“Watch your step” someone said and you turned around to see Yuta leaning over a railing with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

“Yeah” you managed to say and entered the bathroom before he could say anything else. The lack of alcohol didn’t stop the intrusive thoughts of Yuta filling your mind as you stopped to wash your hands. All you could think about was if he was going to be there when you walked back. Was he going to say anything ? Was he going to do anything ?

Were you going to do anything ?

You stepped outside, head a little more muddled than when you walked in and your first question was answered, Yuta was still there leaning up against the wall looking ahead of him. You slowly began your journey back, keeping your head down to avoid any type of confrontation with him.

“Y/n….” He mumbled, reaching out until he had a grip on your wrist causing your eyes to look up at him. Why did he look so goddamn breathtaking right now, with his stupid black hair all messy and his eyes luring you in like a lion to it’s prey.

“W-what ?” You replied, unsure why you still allowed him to hold you or even have the nerve to stop you from getting back to the rest of your friends. Yuta pushed himself off the wall and turned your body so you were now pressed against the concrete and his body was pressed against you. Your breathing hitched as he ran his fingers lightly down your arms. His eyes concentrated on his movements while yours focused on his face, watching him bite down on his lip as he took in the position the two of you were now in.

“You remember a few weeks back and I had you up against this wall moaning my name ?” His voice was so low that it aroused you, making you mentally curse yourself for the lewd thoughts.

“Yuta…” you sighed but there was a hint of desperation in your voice surprising yourself but not really phasing Yuta at all.

“Yeah just like that” he hummed before pressing his lips to your jaw, and peppered kisses all the way down to your neck. You felt yourself willingly giving him access, melting into every kiss he placed on your warm skin. Yuta’s hands grabbed your waist and pinned you against the wall while your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck and into the soft tufts of his hair.

“Yuta…we shouldn’t…I shouldn’t” you breathed, feeling yourself pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

“Tell me no and I’ll stop y/n '' Yuta said into your ear to which you responded by pulling him by his belt buckle and pushed yourself up to capture his lips. Yuta’s dominance finally showed when he slipped his leg in between yours, giving you the chance to gain a bit of friction your core so desperately desired at this point. You felt Yuta’s smirk in your kiss when you began grinding down on his thigh showing him the obedient whore you were for him. Nothing Yuta loved more was for you to beg for him, beg for his touch, need him. That was until the two of you heard footsteps and to your dismay it was the last person you’d ever want to see you trapped against a wall with the man you hated.

It was Lee Jeno.

“I’m sorry I - I’m sorry I’ll leave you guys alone-“ Jeno stumbled, he felt his cheeks heat up and made his quick exit out of the hallway.

“Jeno!” You called, pushing Yuta off and tried to neaten yourself. Yuta felt a heated sensation overcoming his body the moment he saw the look in your eye when you saw Jeno and the way you pushed him off like he was a piece of trash. Like he was nothing.

“You know maybe if you’d stop pretending like you don’t wanna fuck me then we can go back to normal” Yuta spat, not caring about the unfortunate situation that had just unfolded.

You turned around to face him and the next words that came out of your mouth you weren’t sure if you were going to regret it or not.

“You’re right Yuta that’s all you are to me and that’s all you ever will be, a good fuck for about an hour and that’s it. Other than that there’s no use for you. At all.”

You stormed away before Yuta could respond, but by now you would have heard his curses echoing throughout the hallway, the whole damn bar would’ve heard it. But there was nothing.

Absolute silence.

———————————————————————

It had been two weeks since the interaction with Yuta at the bar and what you had to him still resonated with you, wanting so badly to apologize. But each time you saw him at the office he paid you little to no attention, going on about his day peacefully and you didn’t want to interrupt that.

Jeno thankfully understood the situation and was more than willing to be the rebound guy, his only rule being that besides work related matters you needed to cut off communication with Yuta altogether.

‘It was the only way you’d get full closure and my mind would be at peace’ Jeno had said after you gave him the rundown of everything that had happened.

Jeno and you agreed to just casually date, nothing official and nothing too serious. You guys went on movie dates, cafe dates and kept the physical aspect to a minimum. It was simple. Laidback. A very normal form of dating.

“Y/n I’m gonna need you on a photo shoot set in a few hours” Taeyong peeped his head into your cubicle and you looked up at him with a frown, “I thought we were working on that rappers record party ?”

“Yeah that rapper wants you, Yangyang and Yuta to tag up the wall for a video segment of his photo shoot” Taeyong replied with a shrug and left you bewildered.

Yuta. From all the damn people he could’ve chosen you had to work beside the person who practically called trash in your last meeting.

Great.

You wrapped up the last of your work and headed downstairs to the parking lot where an Uber was waiting for you. Thankfully Yangyang  could talk anyone’s head off because just sitting next to Yuta during the car ride felt tense. Normally he’d be pushing you into Yangyang or commenting on how his tattoos were better than yours. But all he did was look out of the window watching as the buildings moved past, keeping his airpods in to avoid any type of communication with anyone.

“You guys are finally here! Good Mark Lee is waiting for you at the shoot location” a woman dressed in all black led you into what looked like a gymnasium turned into a giant canvas.

“Are we going to paint all of this ? Man this is going to take forever” Yangyang gasped as the three of you walked through cans of paint, staff members and models.

“You guys are the designers from black space who did that painting over at Jynx Club ?” A young guy approached who you quickly realized was the new hot rapper around town, Mark Lee.

“Uh yeah, that’s us” you chuckled shyly and looked around, “are we really doing up the entire room ?”

“Oh hell nah just the backdrop behind me” Mark waved his hand, “we just laid everything out for a few cgi effects but you guys, do ya thing over there!” You watched the hyped boy get called over by the director leaving the three of you faced with a gigantic piece of white board and no idea.

“Since you guys are uncultured and probably don’t listen to Mark Lee, let me be in charge of this piece” Yangyang pulled out his iPad and began scrolling through some of his sketches. “Be my guest” Yuta shrugged, completely disinterested in the topic and most likely just wanted to get done and go home.

Yangyang finally settled on something that utilized all three of your styles and you all put  on your white overalls, immediately getting to work.

The vibe of the whole job was quite chilled and because of the fumes most of the staff had left the gymnasium leaving the three of you to work in peace. “God I need to pee so bad,” Yangyang groaned as he dangled from a ladder, an aerosol can in hand and a nearly completed section in his corner.

“Dude take a break we’re way behind you anyway” you walked over to steady the ladder as Yangyang finally made his way down. “Thanks guys, be back in 20” he shot you a thumbs up and disappeared into the tunnel leading to the gym lockers.

The tension returned but it was somehow worse than ever before. Even though Yuta was minding his own business for the first time while retrieving a paintbrush he looked at you. There was no unsettling glare or the feeling that he was pissed off at you, he just looked at you like he’d look at anyone else.

And somehow that felt even worse.

“Yuta…do you mind if we talk for a bit” you cleared your throat and he looked over at you and removed one of his airpods signaling to you that he was listening.

“Okay Uhm well I want to apologize for what I said that night” you bit down on your lip, “I didn’t mean it, and it was selfish of me to even think of you like that after coming onto you in the first place.”

Yuta blinked and eventually just nodded, “apology accepted, and I can see that you like Jeno so I’m trying to stay out of the way” he shrugged and continued painting as if this conversation wasn’t that deep to begin with.

“Are you not going to get me back? Are you sure you’re Yuta ?” You raised a brow and Yuta’s manic laugh echoed throughout the gymnasium, “you want me to be mean to you ? Wow y/n that’s truly some kink you got there”

“Ugh you know what I mean” you shoved him playfully, unaware that the brush you were wearing was still wet and now Yuta’s jaw adorned a light shade of orange.

“Oh shit I’m sorry” you quickly said but Yuta had already responded by swiping his red painted fingertips across your cheek and smirked, “now we’re even.”

“Hey mine is way worse than yours!” You grumbled and flicked more paint at Yuta which then enabled a paint war between the two of you. Yuta giggled so much that for a second you forgot how silent he actually had been the past two weeks. He was back to his usual self and so were you, playfully making a mess with him until Yangyang emerged from the tunnel and yelled,  “What are you morons doing ?!”

You and Yuta stood still in the middle of the room both covered head to toe in paint but the scene was way too comical to hold in your laughter any longer.

“Yangyang we’re so sorry but look, it gave the canvas a little more color” you gestured to it and you weren’t lying, it actually did look a lot better than before.

“Fine you two can go on break, I'll finish up so we’re not sitting around until midnight” Yangyang huffed and returned to his masterpiece. “Is there a place to clean up here ?” Yuta asked and the woman from earlier on walked in and pointed to the tunnel located in the back of the gym, “there are bathrooms and showers back there, our crew provided fresh towels as well so go ahead” she smiled and you silently thanked her before heading to the tunnel with Yuta.

“God I have paint everywhere” you whined as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. Yuta chuckled as he began inspecting himself, looking at the peculiar fingerprints all over his face and neck. “This shit better not stain my skin” he grumbled as he picked away a piece of paint from a crevice in his ear.  “Tell me about it” you responded and began removing the overalls. All you could think of was jumping into that shower stall and allowing the hot water to melt away all the grime and paint when you noticed Yuta was already down to his boxers.

Your gasp made Yuta snicker to himself as he walked around the bathroom looking for the ideal stall to take his shower in.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before” you heard him say before hopping into one of the stalls and drawing the curtain. Despite his words being correct it still made your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You guys were comfortable like this before, not now, not with Jeno in your life.

You shook your head and entered a stall opposite Yuta and a few rows down, just so you weren’t close to him but not far enough that made you feel alone.

“Fuck how is their paint on my ass ? That’s impossible!” Yuta groaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, “TMI, Yuta” you replied and Yuta scoffed, “says the person who’s responsible for this.” The banter ended and again all you heard was the sound of both showers hitting your bodies simultaneously, the air filled with steam and more unusual tension.

“Y/n ?”

“Yeah?”

Yuta was silent for a while and then you heard his water turn off. “Do you uhm mind checking if I got all the paint off my back ? I’ll uhm put my boxers on” he mumbled and you felt your heartbeat speed up.

First of all the Yuta you knew would’ve just walked over butt ass naked and pulled your curtain aside not caring at all. The way he acted now was out of character, but somewhat familiar.

“Yuta I’m still in the shower and naked” you chewed on the inside of your cheek while you waited in silence.

“I’ll close my eyes, I just don’t want this shit to dry up when we get back to work later” he replied and you heard his light footsteps coming toward you. Quickly moving your hair back and holding the curtain against your body, you slowly peeled back the material to reveal Yuta with his back facing you and with his eyes closed, like he said.

You peered down at his golden skin, taking in his broad shoulders and tiny waist as you inspected for any more signs of acrylic paint.

“Uhm yeah you have a little on your shoulder blade and lower back”

“Do…you mind…”

You bit down on your lip knowing this was already crossing the line. But you had just made up and it was your fault that he had paint on his back in the first place. It was innocent. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself while staring at one of the sexiest people you had ever met.

You began rubbing away pieces of the paint, ignoring Yuta’s whines when you used too much pressure. Your hands traced down to his lower back, settling in the dip as you tried to remove a very stubborn piece of paint.

“Ugh this one is not coming off” you scratched at it and to your surprise Yuta had let out a moan instead of the usual wincing.

“I don’t mean to kink shame but-“

Yuta spun around and glared at you, challenging you to finish your sentence but you were more concerned at the fact that the only thing protecting your nude body from Yuta right now was a thin piece of fabric.

“Yuta!” You scolded and he rolled his eyes, “oh please y/n I’ve seen it all, now can you please help me with the paint ?”

You watched wide eyed as Yuta stepped into the shower going back on his word to close his eyes and face the wall. You couldn’t believe what was happening right now but the quicker you removed the paint the quicker he’d be out of here.

“Aren’t your boxers…going to get wet ?” You watched him step closer to water already allowing his hair to soak up the warm stream. “Well you’re not gonna let me take them off with you in here and I’ll probably just go commando when we get back to the office” Yuta shrugged and you should’ve known that was one of his options since he has done it in the past.

You sighed and let go of the curtain allowing your naked body to be free and go back to work on his paint splatter. Yuta was calm and collected throughout the process, you silently commended him on his restraint, that was until he decided to turn around and look at you.

“Y-Yuta you promised” your voice was small but you still didn’t do much to cover up your body. Yuta leaned against the cold ceramic wall as he stared at you, his stare was dark, inviting you in like that night at the bar.

“I’m not going to do anything y/n unless you want me to” he reassured you, still maintaining a distance and doing absolutely nothing to persuade you. But did you need persuasion when all he needed to do was be in the same room as you?

The two of you stared in each other’s eyes for a few minutes and you had no idea who actually made the first move but there you were in the center of the shower stall, in a random gymnasium, kissing Yuta Nakamoto.

Yuta’s bare body was pressed against yours as the two of you fought for dominance in the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest to which he responded by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until his hardened member twitched against your stomach. There were no words, just actions. Each kiss only made you more desperate for him, not feeling this type of arousal since that night at the bar. He was the only person who could turn you on to the point that every image of Jeno was erased from your mind.

You tugged down his boxers with urgency and Yuta helped you quicken the process, quickly kicking away the piece of clothing and had you pushed up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Yuta pulled away from your lips with a sultry bite on your bottom lip and lined up his member with your core. He kept his eyes on you the entire time from the moment he slipped into your wetness to the harsh thrusts he was now giving to you against the coldness of the wall. You felt like you were complete, filled with the right amount of passion and ecstasy. God you hated to admit it but nobody could fuck you the way Yuta did. Absolutely no one.

Yuta slowed down his thrusts and you brought your feet back to the ground, gesturing for him to take a seat on the floor and got on top of his member once more. Yuta threw his head back as you rode him relentlessly, grabbing onto your ass as he tried to meet your rhythm. The sight of him partially under the water and his swollen lips was delicious, you couldn’t ask for a better view right now. Yuta on the hand was also enjoying having you bounce on his length, quickly realizing that the women he had bedded during his time without you were not worth it. Not a single one of them made him feel the way you did. Even the times you guys were fucking around he’d sleep with other women because he didn’t want to admit that you are his best. You will always be his best.

“G-gonna cum” you panted and Yuta quickly rubbed circles on your clit to help you reach your orgasm. He watched your body spasm and you threw your head back with a soft moan. The sight alone made him come undone straight after you, filling you up completely.

You slowly got to your feet with the help of Yuta offering his hand and managed to finally catch your breath.

What the fuck did you just do ?

“Before you say this was a mistake and you hate me, hear me out” Yuta spoke up, “I need to know something”

You bit down on your lip. “Yeah?”

“Do you like me ?”

“What ?” You quietly questioned and Yuta sighed, rubbing his temples, “do you like me y/n ? actually like me ? Or is it you just like fucking me ?”

“I don’t know Yuta you know that I’m seeing Je-“you began explaining before Yuta quickly cut you off. “Don’t say his name, listen I know you like fucking me because that’s what happened right now despite whatever feelings you have for…Jen..him.”

“So what am I supposed to do ?” You asked, still unsure of how you were even going to face Jeno back at the office after this.

“Use me,” Yuta deadpanned, “keep me as your dirty little secret and I won’t tell a soul. I just don’t want this to end. I’m fucking addicted to this, and clearly you’re in need of me just as much as I need you.”

Yuta took a step forward and cupped your cheek with the palm of his hand. “I just crave you all goddamn day and nothing is fulfilling that need until right now.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn’t bring yourself to share how much you ached for him. Late nights when you were alone you even pleased yourself with memories of him. You were unsure if it was lust at this point or you actually missed being around him. Despite every fight and argument the two of you had, there was something always drawing you in.

“First of all I don’t hate you” you sighed and he chuckled dryly before you continued, “I don’t know if this is a good idea but I’m only agreeing because Jeno and I aren’t serious yet and if we are-“

“I’ll back off I promise” Yuta quickly added and you nodded, “he can’t know about this, nobody can.”

“You have my word” Yuta pressed his lips together and for the first time he looked absolutely serious. Something in you made you trust that he wouldn’t fuck this up, because that would mean the one thing he wanted most right now would fall through.

You just hoped that this little need the two of you had for each other wasn’t turning into an…obsession.

————————————————————————-

“You guys are finally back” Ten stretched his arms above his head as you, Yangyang and Yuta returned back to the office after quite an eventful afternoon.

“Wanna see pics ? It turned out great!” Yangyang grinned quickly, running over to the older guys, showing off his artwork. Jeno was over at the game area with Sungchan completely invested in beating his friend in a round of Call Of Duty.

“Hey you” you sunk into the beanbag next to Jeno who shot you a quick glance before concentrating on his next move, “your hairs wet, why ?”

“Showered after the painting session” you answered diligently hoping there were no follow up questions. Thankfully he was way too invested in his video game to care much, you really weren't in the mood for an interrogation after half a day with Yuta.

Jeno asked a lot of questions when he felt insecure about something. Even though time had been short with him, it still somehow felt like a 2 year relationship. For a young guy Jeno was pretty old fashioned, he made you pick all the date places and never bothered to make the first move physically until you hinted to him that it was okay.

He was so different to what you were used to and you were afraid that if you didn’t speed things up with him this little secret with Yuta would turn into a reality.

“Hey y/n can you help me with lunch ?” Doyoung called from the makeshift kitchen area a few feet away and you silently thanked him for distracting you from your thoughts.

“Hey Doyoung” you smiled as you began opening containers from the Chinese delivery you guys frequented. “Just wanted to check in with you” Doyoung sweetly said as he grabbed a few utensils, “you and Jeno huh ? Was that part of my advice ?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah I guess so, it also helps that I’ve known him for a while now and he did actually have a thing for me in high school” Doyoung cocked his head at your words and leaned in, “and you liked him back or you’re seeing something in him now that you didn’t see before ?”

“U-uhm I think he’s hot” you chewed on your lip and Doyoung chuckled softly, “you know not everything is about looks or…hooking up, do you enjoy his time ? His interests ? His company ?”

You turned back to where Jeno was still playing his video games and you did feel a little confused as to what you guys actually did have in common. “I mean…” you began, crossing your arms across your chest, “we’ve only been seeing each other romantically for two weeks I think it’s too soon to tell.”

Doyoung combed back his hair and instead of bringing forth his insight in order to make you see things clearer he just nodded.

“You’re probably right, well I wish you guys all the best, it’s better than being with someone who doesn’t care emotionally right ?”

You slowly nodded and with that Doyoung began taking the food to the dining area leaving you with more confusing thoughts than you had before.

Lunch and the rest of the evening went on smoothly. Yuta stayed out of your way and there was absolutely no sign that the two of you we’re together that day. It was easier to fake seeing Yuta since the group knew the two of you would’ve been bickering straight after hooking up. It was the perfect illusion.

“Mark Lee’s party is at 9pm tomorrow night you guys, don’t forget” Taeyong looked around the room until he heard a confirmation from every single mouth.

“9pm ? Shit would it be okay if I only stuck around for an hour ?” Jeno sighed and looked over at Taeyong, “my brothers in town and I promised I'd get him from the airport at 10:30.”

“Well you’d have to show one of the guys here how to turn the installation on” Doyoung’s worried look matched Taeyong.

“I’ll be there to turn it on I’ll just need to leave straight after” Jeno assured them and squeezed your hand under the table, “it’s all really sudden but you’ll be okay right ?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m probably going to head home after the music video airing anyway” you smiled at him and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead earning a whistle from Lucas.

Yuta awkwardly shuffled at the sudden PDA and he hoped no one at the table noticed but it caught the attention of none other than Johnny Suh who narrowed his eyes at his coffee run mate.

The evening had wrapped up and everyone had already headed home except for Yuta and Johnny who were adamant on finishing a photography project for a band they were working with.

“Trouble in paradise ?” Johnny hummed as he edited an image on his laptop. Yuta, who was busy sorting out the Polaroids, turned to face his large best friend with a lost expression.

“Huh?” He raised a brow to which Johnny shook his head still staring at his screen.

“I can’t believe this, after all these fucking hellish months now you realize you like her?”

Yuta leaned in on the desk. “What the heck are you on about Johnny ?”

“Y/n” Johnny sighed and your name made Yuta’s heart race a bit, hoping Johnny hadn’t found out about the shower incident. God you’d hate him forever if anyone found out.

“Listen Johnny we-“

“You like her! After all those months of fighting I knew you were secretly in love and now” Johnny threw his hands in the air, “now that Jeno has entered the arena you have ruined your chances. Way to go buddy.”

“Wait what ?! I’m not in love with y/n!” Yuta scoffed. Saying that sentence out loud felt like a lie even though he couldn’t fully convince himself.  Was he in love ? Was Johnny mistaking love for just lust ?

That’s all it was and ever was right ?

You enjoyed fucking around with him and he was okay with it. That’s what he wanted too. Even if you didn’t answer his question of whether you liked him or not, it was okay. Whatever you wanted was okay as long he got to be with you.

“I’m not in love with y/n.”

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

You and Jeno arrived at the party with Yangyang and Sungchan all helping carry equipment for Jeno’s installation. The piece was a pixel art board that formed Mark Lee’s latest EP cover, and once plugged in it gave it an animated effect, basically bringing the EP cover to life. You marvelled at the hard work Jeno had put in, it was just a shame that he wasn't sticking around to receive praise from everyone who attended.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here ? I know how much you hate these parties” Jeno pressed his lips together as he brought you into a tight hug. You hummed and looked up at him smiling, “Only been dragged to one of these parties a million times, another round won't hurt.” Jeno responded by pressing his lips to your forehead before joining Sungchan in setting up the installation. You always wondered why Jeno opted for your forehead instead of your lips most of the time despite already having your first real kiss. You understood he wasn't big on PDA, but the only time you ever got to kiss him was at your apartment door when a date had ended or when you sneaked in a kiss at the cinema. As much as you liked his chivalry, God at times you just wished he took initiative and bent you over your kitchen counter and had his way with you. It was kinda humorous how Jeno was the ideal type of any women out there but for you, you needed an unhinged, sex-crazed maniac to match your energy.

You needed Yu-

“It looks really good Jeno.” Your breathing hitched when you heard Yuta’s voice from behind you. You turned around but to your surprise he wasn't alone. Yuta was accompanied by a familiar face, Mei, a part-time designer from a few floors down. The way she held onto his arm made something stir inside of you. Your cheeks burned up and you dare say it for the first time you felt...jealous.

You were used to seeing Yuta with many different girls but it was always some nobody that he never bothered to introduce to the group. He always made sure none of them integrated with his work life but Mei, Mei was the first person you actually knew.

“y/n its been a while, Oh my God you look great” she said sweetly and you returned a friendly smile despite your awkwardness. Yuta gave you a quick glance not really paying you any mind as he kept a steady hand on Mei’s lower back, the two of them practically looking like a couple. It made you feel uneasy. After all he had said to you that afternoon in the shower, It seemed like he didn't mean it.

“It’s perfect Jeno you really outdid yourself” Taeyong applauded as the rest of the team finally arrived, all congratulating Jeno on his first big project under Blank Space. Jeno shyly thanked everyone and checked his watch, sighing that it was already time for him to depart.

“You're going now ?” You walked over to wrap your arms around his waist. You didn't care much before about Jeno leaving early, before Yuta decided to bring a date to the party which meant you would definitely be on your own. Jeno pouted and stroked your head, “yeah, we're still on for Sunday though right ?” and you replied with a nod before sinking into one of his very warm hugs. You had no idea why, but the need to ease your jealousy and get back at Yuta was so strong that you ended up pulling out of the hug and kissed Jeno in front of everyone. Thankfully Jeno didn't shy away and maybe the guilt of leaving you made him return the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against your body.

“Get a room you guys” Ten joked when the two of you finally pulled away, and Jeno chuckled shyly before leaning into your ear, “let’s do that more often” he cheekily smiled and pecked your lips once more before making his way to the exit. Johnny watched as Yuta still looked visibly uncomfortable, more so now than before. But Johnny also knew how damn stubborn Yuta was and watched him throw his arm around Mei, departing from the group most likely for the rest of the night.

It was late into the night and Yuta was already way too many shots down to call himself sober. Mei was talking but he was not listening. Mei was a nice girl who had made it known to him that she liked him for a while now, but unfortunately for her she was not you. All Yuta wanted was you and again he cursed himself for being so fucking hooked. He wanted to make you jealous but after he saw you kiss Jeno it just came back to him ten thousand times harder. He came to terms with his addiction now in his drunken state he was scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the only person he cared about.

You.

“Hey I'm going to leave now...do you want to come with ?” Mei nervously bit down on her lip hoping the man she's been pining for months will finally take notice of her.

“Nah im good, I’m probably going to wait until my friends leave” Yuta replied coldly, his eyes still scanning the crowd as he took another sip from his jack daniels and coca-cola concoction. Mei nodded, disappointed that her night had not gone as planned and left silently, leaving her date to finally gain his freedom.

Yuta scanned the crowd for the tenth time until he did a double take at a figure in the back corner, dancing on their own with no care in the world. Downing the rest of his drink Yuta kept his eyes focused on you despite the alcohol blurring his vision and his body feeling heavy, he had to get to you.

You were in the same state as him, most likely worse since Lucas challenged you to a drink off. You had no clue when you separated from the rest of the group so you stuck a little corner hoping to sober up before heading home. As you swayed along to the music you felt someone wrap their hands around your waist and the familiar scent of that Tom Ford perfume made you realize who it was.

“Yuta…” you groaned, pulling his hands away from your body, still remembering how awful he made you feel a few hours earlier. God were you the rebound chick now ? The thought alone was sickening.

Yuta, still blissfully unaware that you were mad at him, still pushed his body against yours until your back was pressed against the wall and you had no choice but to look up at him. You watched him move his face down in order to capture your lips, but you quickly evaded it with a turn of your head. Yuta scoffed and sufficed for your neck, giving you soft wet kisses all the way down to your collarbones until you pushed him off yet again.

“What the fuck ?” He growled in your ear, “I thought we had a deal.” You rolled your eyes at him, there was the side of Yuta you hated the most. You wondered how long it would be until he factory reseted back to an asshole.

“I thought I was first choice” you snapped at him, “all your talk about no one can satisfy you like I can, use me y/n, I only want you” you mimicked his voice and flipped him off with your finger. Yuta knew you were jealous but it was kind of ironic given the situation. You were the one in a relationship, not him. “Oh so I'm supposed to see you suck face with Jeno but I can't have any fun y/n ?” Yuta had you back against the wall, this time his hand was locked on your jaw with his lips against your ear.

“Maybe I should've fucked Mei” Yuta’s voice was dark, you felt him smirk against your ear when his words clearly affected you, “Maybe if I fucked her she would've been so good that i would forget all about you y/n.” Your eyes darted to him and he cocked his head, challenging you, waiting to see how much you could take before you caved. Normally you’d be the one getting Yuta riled up like this. It was common knowledge that Yuta was a very jealous person and just mentioning another man sexually he would lose his mind. Once you were craving his attention and casually mentioned to him that if Doyoung was interested you’d let him screw you on his office desk, and Yuta responded by fucking you senseless in the supply closet until the only name that escaped your lips was his.

But now the tables were turned and you didn't want to hear about Mei. You didn't want to picture her next to Yuta let alone in bed with him. It was selfish on your part considering Jeno, but you wanted Yuta all to yourself.

“Shut up” you narrowed your eyes at him and grabbed a fist full of his shirt and brought him closer. Yuta traced his thumb over your lips and smiled, already knowing he won this round.

“Tell me why I cant fuck her right now y/n, tell me” he coaxed, and you responded by pulling him into a sensual kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth and your hand palming his member until you heard him groan in your ear,

You pulled away from the kiss and pressed your swollen lips to his ear, “Because...you're mine.” Yuta licked his own lips at your words and grabbed at your ass,

“Show me I'm yours, baby.”

You had no idea when and how the both of you got to Yuta’s apartment in one piece but the moment he had his foot in the door, Yuta was tugging your dress over your head. “Fuck why do you always wear the most  complicated things” Yuta whined which you found cute even though you would never let him know that you were well aware of his adorable side. Sighing from victory, Yuta finally got your dress off and pulled you into his familiar bedroom, which you honestly missed so fucking much.

Taking in the familiar scent of his perfume and his slightly messy room, with posters on the walls, and a rack of band shirts - it was his little heaven and you loved it.

You walked over to lie on his bed, sinking into the soft fabric of the bed sheets as a familiar rock song began playing from Yuta’s stereo. You watched him as he discarded his shirt and ripped jeans, showing off his chest tattoos and belly ring, just the sight of him was already making you wet. Yuta was none the better, groaning as his boner pushed against the fabric of his underwear as his eyes took in your body, sexily laid out for him like you used to be.

“Fuck…” his lips parted as he watched you spread your legs, waiting for him obediently. Yuta crawled up onto the bed and nestled in between your thighs, his mischievous eyes looking up at yours before he began peeling away the thin piece of fabric revealing your core.

“You're…so…wet baby” he said in a low voice and leaned in to give your heat a soft kiss. The instant contact made your body shiver, reaching down to play with his dark curls. “Yuta…please” you whined as he continued his light kisses, not giving you the pressure you desired. Yuta looked up with an innocent face and cocked his head, “Why should I do it ?” His fingers traced circles on your hips and abdomen, waiting for an answer.

“Because…you’re mine Yuta, I want you…all to myself…I want to please me, only me” you threw your head back. Not having sex for over a month was really getting to you and the frustration had you saying just about anything. Yuta watched you squirm and after hearing those words he figured it was a good enough reward for his dear fuck-buddy. Yuta kissed your core once more but this time his tongue darted out every once in a while, awarding you with a better sensation. You moaned inaudible words as he began eating you out like a pro, lapping away like his life depended on it before inserting two fingers inside you.

“Yuta wait I’m gonna-“ you grabbed onto his hair, feeling your orgasm come on way too early for your liking as his fingers moved rapidly and his tongue licked away at your clit. Yuta ignored your plea knowing this was only the first of many and honestly he was glad that he was still the only man giving you orgasms for the past couple of months.

Yuta pulled away, a devilish smirk spread across his face as he watched you cum all over his fingers and just as your vision was in focus you had the pleasure of seeing him lick his fingers clean as if he just had the most amazing meal ever,

“Mmmm tasty” he bit down on his lip and winked at you. God he was so damn cocky, and it didn’t take you long to recover from that orgasm to make room for another. You got to your knees and sat back, your face now level with Yuta’s clothed member.

Yuta groaned as you palmed him, his length already twitching against your touch. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but since the night you had called it off with him, his desire had subsided and he wondered if you were the sole reason for his high sex drive. You placed your lips against his belly ring, giving it a kiss before pulling down his boxers and allowing his member to spring free. Yuta cursed as your tongue swiped across the tip and you looked up at him with those large eyes, and Yuta knew exactly what you were waiting for. Positioning your mouth over his tip, you waited until Yuta grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided you down on his length, groaning loudly as you took in all of him.

Yuta’s hips began to meet your rhythm and the grip on your hair tightened, the sudden roughness made you shiver with excitement. You and Yuta always liked it rough, since it took out your anger on each other and any type of nurturing or romance would throw off the dynamic.  

Yuta threw his head back as he released, keeping you on him until you swallowed every bit. He muttered curse words as he pulled out and watched you lick your lips, swiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and sucked it off.

“Yum” you mimicked his words from earlier with a smirk essentially driving Yuta crazy with lust. You giggled as he pushed you onto the bed and attacked you with bites and kisses, leading from your neck down to the valley of your breasts. “How long until you get hard again?” You sighed playfully but winced when Yuta’s teeth sunk into your skin, punishing you for your words.

“Cocky aren’t we ?” He moved back up to your lips and kissed you passionately. Just as you began melting into the kiss, Yuta pulled away and jumped off his bed heading to his closet.

“What are you doing ?” You groaned as you watched him sift through the mess of his closet until he finally retrieved a familiar box. “Yuta you’re literally hard right now, come on let’s just fuck already” you whined, knowing that when Yuta brought out that box it was his way of getting rid of your bratty attitude.

“If you wanna be impatient two can play at that game” he grinned and hopped onto the bed, pulling out his favorite pair of hair cuffs and with ease, cuffed you to his headboard. You watched him look through his box of toys, rubbing your thighs together excited about what his choice will be.

Yuta grabbed something out of the box and discarded the rest onto the floor, making his way back up to your body and pressed his lips against your ear, “you remember the safe word baby ?” Yuta pecked you when you nodded and you watched him insert a mini vibrator in your core and roll off the bed with the remote in his hand.

“I wasn’t even that mean to you” you grumbled, still getting used to the device inserted in you. Yuta shrugged and turned the device on, keeping it on a low setting as he watched you stir in his bed.

“I’m not punishing you for that actually, I’m punishing you for something else you did” he said calmly, pacing around the room butt ass naked.  You frowned and thought back to the party when he had found you, what did you say to him ?

“I’m sorry I pushed you…away” you pouted but a moan escaped your lips when you felt the setting turn higher and you watched Yuta shake his head, “nope that’s not it.” You groaned and threw your head back, unable to even think what the hell he could be on about. Yuta would get mad at every little thing so it honestly could’ve been anything.

“Can’t I have a hint or something ?” You pleaded and Yuta raised his eyebrow and eventually sighed, giving in too easily. “It happened in the beginning at the party” he said annoyingly, and finally something in your brain clicked.

“The kiss ? You’re mad over the kiss ?” Your words fell off when you felt the vibrator go another setting higher, the new speed was decent enough to start building a second orgasm. “You don’t sound like you’re apologizing for it” Yuta scoffed and dangled the remote in front of your face, “this goes up 4 more speeds y/n.”

“Why do I need to apologize for kissing my boyfriend when-“

Another setting higher.

“Fuck wait Yuta” you breathed, it was impossible to even keep focused at the new speed and the sensation was now running throughout your entire body. “You kissed him in front of me to make me jealous didn't you?” Yuta questioned and you nodded frantically, pressing your thighs together to ease the intensity, “yes yes oh my God, I wanted to make you….jealous because you brought someone else…and..fuck” just as you felt your body finally build up a perfect orgasm the vibrator suddenly turned off and you were met with Yuta’s cocky smile.

“You like to have it all don’t you y/n” he hummed as flung the remote aside and knelt between your thighs that were shaking from the orgasm denial. “You want to fuck me, but not let me fuck anyone else, you want Jeno but you don’t want me to get mad over it” he continued as he pulled the dripping wet toy out of your core and tossed it to the floor. Yuta placed his hands on either side of you and looked down at your defeated face and smiled, “Do you want me to fuck someone else?”

You shook your head and Yuta undid one of the handcuffs. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and again asked you another question, “Do you want to fuck me ?” and you quickly nodded, earning your second hand free from the cuffs allowing them to fall to your sides. Yuta placed his hand around your throat and squeezed gently, smirking as you arched your back, thirsting for him so desperately.

“Who would fuck you better, me or Jeno ?” Yuta mused as his hand released a bit of pressure on your throat. “Y-you” your voice was small and Yuta released your throat and his hand moved down to smack your thigh.

“Say it, say who will fuck you better” he hissed.

“You Yuta, you will fuck me better than anyone…better than Jeno” Yuta grinned at your words, a little surprised that you used Jeno’s name in such a blasphemous way. He was in euphoria at this point. It was all he needed to hear after continuously seeing you and Jeno look as if you were in love with each other.

It was all wrong.

You and him loved each other.

Fuck. He loved you. He really did.

Yuta pushed his length into your core and groaned as the realization of his thoughts and his conversation with Johnny all hit him at once. The sight of you beneath him, moaning his name and your confession that you wanted him over Jeno. It was all too much.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, his hips violently hitting against yours as your nails dug into his lower back. The lewd sounds filled the room and for a second the two of you looked into each other’s eyes, both feeling something…different. Usually Yuta would be fucking you from behind, his favourite position because he loved looking at your ass but tonight especially after his sudden questioning, he took care of you differently.

You don’t know what came over you and it was yet another thing you never did during sex but you pulled him down to kiss you. Your lips moved passionately against his, desperately clinging to his body as his strokes became longer and more powerful. Yuta sighed into the kiss, palming your cheek and his movements suddenly became more gentle as if he were making love to you, not fucking you.

“Yuta…I’m close” you moaned into his ear, loving this new feeling of him on your body. Yuta hummed in response and quickened his pace, making sure to sneak in a kiss every now and then until he finally brought you to your long awaited orgasm. You watched him bite down on his lip as he thrusted into you, chasing his own orgasm until he pressed his against your ear and said the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“I love you y/n”

Your body slightly froze as Yuta finally came and he rolled off your body, mentally cursing himself for allowing those words to escape his mouth at this moment. But it’s what he felt.

Johnny was right.

“W-what ?” You finally managed to say and turned to him. Yuta licked his lips and kept his focus on the ceiling above him.

“You heard me right” he said calmly and you felt your heart race. Where was this coming from ? He was the one who always implemented the no romance rule and he chooses now, the moment you’re seeing someone else to confess to you.

“I have to go” you murmured and jumped off the bed, starting to collect your clothes from the floor. You heard the bed creak and Yuta sat up and watched you dress up. “It’s late now y/n and you drank, stay the night and leave when the suns up” he insisted, eventually grabbing his own boxers,

“Here you can sleep in one of my shirts and you’re welcome to sleep in my bed for the night.”

“Y-you…that was one of the rules…no staying over” you were biting on your nails, everything that had happened in the last ten minutes made no sense. Yuta shoved the shirt into your hands and sighed, “Look, we don’t have to talk about what I said or what happened, just stay the night and you can go back to your perfect life with Jeno.” Yuta began making his way to his door when you grabbed onto his arm making him stop in his tracks,

“Where are you going ?” You asked him softly.

Yuta looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

“Yuta..”

“What ?”

“Stay with me.”

—-—————————————————————

You had no idea why you had told him to stay in bed with you considering all that had happened a few minutes ago. But here you were, curled into his chest listening to his heartbeat as he lightly stroked your hair.

“How…long ?” You broke the silence and felt his heartbeat slightly race, “The realization came recently but I’ve…always liked you y/n” Yuta responded softly.

“Well you don’t have a good way of showing it” you rolled your eyes and Yuta’s soft laughter filled the room. “Well at first you actually were annoying but I did find you cute” He replied and shifted until you were on your back looking up at him,

“You put up with me and we’re not afraid to fight back. You know it’s not even about the sex, I think we’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, we just have a weird way of showing it.” You listened to his words and did a bit of reflection for yourself. You were already well aware that he occupied your mind 24/7 and did not enjoy seeing him around other girls he would eventually sleep with. But was this…love ? You weren't so sure.

“Do you ever think it’s more of an addiction rather than…love ?” You looked up at him, hoping your words did not offend his sudden confession in any way. Yuta sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling deep in thought.

“What is love then ?” He murmured, clearly by the look on his face he had been pondering on this question for a while now. You joined him in laying on your back and looked up at the ceiling, “love is when the other person completes you” you began, “when you’re having a dull day and just the sight of them could turn that around. Love is wanting to protect that person all the time, it’s just love.”

Yuta turned to you, “have you ever been in love ?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”  Yuta shrugged and returned his focus above him, “whatever you just described is how I feel, but maybe I’m just still hung up on the Jeno situation.” You felt a pang in your chest as if you just completely destroyed his spirit. You always saw Yuta as a strong confident presence, yet the person next to you seemed lost, he looked broken. But deep down you knew that whatever he was describing had floated in your head from time to time, maybe it needed to be said out loud for you to finally realize.

“Give me a week”

“Huh ?” Yuta’s eyebrows raised at you.

“Give me a week to figure all of this out and we will have this talk again” you sat up and looked back at him. Yuta propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head, “y/n, if you don’t feel the same way it’s okay I won’t come in between you and…Jeno anymore.”

“Yuta”

“Hmm?”

You pulled the boy by his shirt until you were able to lock your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth and he mimicked your actions before pulling away, a confused expression spreading across his face.

“I don’t know where this is going to go and whether we’re right for each other,” you chuckled dryly, “but I will always want you Yuta, you’re not coming between Jeno and I because the one who wants… .”

————————————————————————

It was finally Monday and you already regretted seeing Jeno at the office since you faked a terrible hangover to get out of the Sunday date, something that wasn’t entirely a lie. You spent the whole of Sunday laying in your bed thinking about the night you spent with Yuta and all that was shared during the morning.

You thought back on your own words about what your version of love was. Protecting someone. You reminisced about the days when Yuta got sick after a night out and you were the one to take care of him despite his protests. You thought back to when the two of you were working on a project, arguing as usual and you managed to slip on a wet paint spot, causing you to sprain your ankle. Yuta was the one to help you around the office when needed, he wasn’t appointed to you nor did he have to use up his own time to help you but he did it anyway.

When you were having a dull day the person you loved would find a way to brighten it up, just the sight of them was enough. There was an occasion where a client got real mean with you in the office, and hated the project you worked almost a month on, refusing to pay you for the labor you had put in. Yuta had seen the commotion and joined you in your booth and the two of you flooded the clients company with hilarious bad reviews anonymously until you were literally tearing up from laughter. That was one of the rare days the two of you didn’t get into an argument and the moment completely slipped your mind. You had  forgotten that Yuta and you actually shared fond memories of each other outside the bedroom.

You thought about every moment you got to the office and Yuta would be sticking his tongue out at you, calling you names and being a jerk as usual. But days when he had to work out of the office felt boring, empty, it wasn’t worth sitting in your cubicle without seeing him across from you.

But then after feeling the warm fuzziness of knowing Yuta felt the same way about you, your phone buzzed with Jeno’s name across the screen. Why were you doing this to him ? Why was Jeno in the crossfire when all he wanted to do was get to know you better ?

All you ever wanted was a distraction from the man you were scared to fall in love with.

“Heyyy you, you feeling okay ?” Jeno beamed when you entered the office, immediately bringing you into a tight hug and ending with a kiss on the cheek. You nodded and the sense of guilt over took your body as you looked up at his cheery smile.

“I heard you guys got so wasted at the party, damn I wish I stayed” Jeno giggled as the two of you walked hand in hand over to your cubicle. “Yeah it was…crazy” you faked a smile before settling in your seat. You looked across, a force of habit and you were greeted by a soft smile from Yuta before quietly returning to his work.

“I was thinking we should go see that new marvel movie tonight, what do you think ?” Jeno’s eyes were so bright and full of energy that everytime you looked into them it just made it harder to keep up your facade. “I’m pretty busy this week but hey Friday you can come over, I…need to talk to you anyway” you bit down on your lip and Jeno’s expression changed from excited to slightly wary, clearly noticing that something wasn’t quite right.

“Is….everything okay?” He asked in a staggered voice, and you slowly nodded and reached to squeeze his hand, “yeah let’s hang out on Friday okay ?” You smiled and Jeno pressed his lips together and nodded. You watched him exit your cubicle and all that was left in your view was the only person you wanted to see today, Yuta.

Yuta looked up and caught your stare, smiling softly as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand and winked at you. It was sweet and innocent, nothing like how he usually acted from across the room. You found yourself blushing and hid your face until you heard a beep come from your phone. Opening the messenger app you were greeted by a picture of yourself hiding your crimson cheeks with the message ‘Cute’ attached to it.

y/n: didn’t take you for a simp.

yutaa: fuck off, I have a folder like this.

You stifled your laughter when Yuta sent a screenshot with a folder just of you in your cubicle. From you flipping him off, to you glaring at him clearly pissed off at something he had said, and one of you trying your best to pay attention to whatever story Yangyang was on about.

y/n: oh my god you’re a BIG SIMP.

yutaa: maybe.

y/n: well I do have ONE of you that I don’t have the heart to delete.

yutaa: oh really ?

You sent Yuta a picture you absolutely treasured of him in your bed fast asleep hugging one of your plushies. It was one of the last nights you had with him before things got sour. Normally you’d never allow him to nap in your bed after a hookup but he looked so at peace and so adorable  that you decided to bend the rules a little.

yutaa: that was a good ass nap. yutaa: simp.

y/n: maybe.

The rest of the day went on and honestly you felt as if you were on cloud nine, chatting to Yuta like he was your high school crush. Smiling every time he texted back and glancing up every now and then, waiting for him to look at you with that cheeky grin. But as reality set in and Yuta’s smile faded, you were still dating another man. Who now had his arms wrapped around your waist peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulder while Yuta looked on, not being able to do a thing about it.

————————————————————————

The team decided to head out for dinner the next day, and something in Jeno had switched. After Yuta had watched him cuddle you until the day was over, you barely even got the chance to talk to Yuta face to face since Jeno offered to take you home. He was being suspiciously clingy and you wondered if he suspected anything.

“You’re okay with sharing a pasta and plate of fries ?” Jeno smiled over at you, one hand rubbing your waist and the other holding up the wooden menu. You nodded and Jeno placed his order in with Johnny who was doing the rounds for everyone. Yuta sat across from you and you could feel his stare on you from time to time, and the moments it felt like he was staring, Jeno’s grip on your waist got tighter.

“Is...is something wrong ?” you leaned into Jeno as he took a sip of his water. Even though he was smiling, his jaw was clenched signaling that he was trying to suppress himself from doing or saying something. “I'm just really tired” he rubbed your back and to your surprise leaned in to capture your lips. It was innocent but your lack of effort to mind his feelings wasn't good enough for Yuta. Frankly he had no idea where you two stood at the moment, for all he knew you could be playing him right now. It probably wasn't the case though, but Yuta was not really used to his life getting a happy ending. The night drove on and the group split with you, Ten, Doyoung, Taeyong and Renjun seated at the table while the rest of the guys were hanging around the bar babysitting their drinks. Jeno was really a changed man since high school. He was so confident, well-built and a good socialite with the team. You watched him lean against the bar counter, drink in hand entertaining whatever story Lucas had for the night.

“So you and y/n huh ? Have you scored yet ?” Lucas raised his brow cheekily to which Jeno chuckled and shook his head, “Really Lucas ? were talking about my sex life now ?” Yuta was in conversation with Johnny and Sungchan but he couldn't help but overhear your name in the chat next to him.

“Yeah man, I'm sure she’s good too after locking down my boy Yuta” Lucas smirked and Yuta flinched when the boisterous man grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him into the conversation. “Even though they hate each other I just know they had the best hook ups” Lucas laughed despite Johnny trying to make him shut up.

“Well that’s all over now” Jeno’s eyes narrowed on Yuta before looking up at Lucas, “she invited me over tonight and considering the type of pictures she sent me, i'm guessing it’s going to be one hell of a night.” Yuta’s chest felt tight not only at the possibility that you may have invited him over to finally sleep with him but mainly because of the way Jeno spoke about you. He probably only shared that information to appease Lucas but hinting at you sending him nudes was not something you would like the guys to know about.

“She’s really been trying to speed up the process between us too it's cute actually” Jeno continued as Yangyang and Lucas egged him on, “that night after that painting you guys did for Mark Lee she was practically begging me to fuck her after our movie date. God if my brother didn't give me all those errands I would've done so right on the kitchen counter.”

Yuta shot back the rest of his drink and stormed off as Lucas and Yangyang hyped up Jeno, pouring him another shot and laughing erratically in their drunken state. From where you were seated you saw Yuta storm off and watched Johnny run after him worriedly, making you slightly anxious.

“Yuta don't listen to them man '' Johnny huffed as he finally caught up to his friend a few blocks down from the restaurant. “I dont fucking care man I really dont” Yuta chuckled dryly and ran his fingers through his hair, “It doesnt matter because at the end of the day im still the worthless piece of shit and guys like him are God fucking sent.” Johnny watched Yuta’s expression change and he turned around to find you standing there, desperately looking between them for context.

“Yuta what happened ?” you asked in a small voice and the familiar sting in his chest returned, hearing you call out his name, following him out here while Jeno was still inside, it was all just confusing to him.

“I thought you giving us a week meant you felt the same way and I could finally relax knowing you were going to be with me y/n” Yuta groaned in frustration while Johnny took a step away from the heated exchange. You shook your head as you approached him, “yes I did, so what's the problem ?” Yuta scoffed and folded his arms. “What's the problem ? doesn't look like anything’s changed y/n. I have to see you act like the couple of the year after telling you how I felt about you ? That's brilliant.”

“I told you I would speak to him this week” you snapped, unbothered by the now random onlookers who were concerned at the scene taking place. “But fine honestly Yuta if you really want me to say it you have my permission to fuck some random girl until im finally free.” You rolled your eyes about to turn on your heels to leave when you felt a tug on your wrist and Yuta pulled you into a kiss. He held your face in his hands as he kissed you passionately, sighing as he slowly pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours,

“When I said I loved you I fucking meant it y/n, I only want you. But please, if youre going to invite him over or send him dirty...pictures atleast tell him not to tell the whole fucking world about it.”

You took a step back and frowned at his words, “What ? What pictures ?”

“The ones he told Lucas about, y/n honestly I don't care I was just mad that he was airing your business out like that” Yuta bit down on his lip and yet again you were deeply confused as to what he was on about.

“I...I didn't send him anything” you responded, “I didn't invite him over tonight and I definitely haven't sent him any...nudes.”

“Tell that to him then”

You turned around and noticed most of the team was now outside watching the commotion go down and right in front was Jeno, who by the look on his face had most likely seen the kiss you just shared with Yuta.

Jeno approached the both of you with an irritated groan and scoffed, “I was going to ignore the signs but God I was so right, you were still fucking him this entire time ?” You lowered your head and Yuta glared at Jeno, “If you knew all this time why didn't you just break up with her and move on ?”

Jeno rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Yuta to which Johnny quickly responded by placing a firm hand on Jeno’s shoulder making sure the boy was at safe distance from his best friend.

“I'm not like you Yuta” Jeno licked his lips, “unlike you I respect her, I understand that she was going back to you because you like to play around, you never cared about her until I showed up. You were threatened by the fact that you were no longer in control of her.”

“Nobody is in control of me first of all” you chimed in, “and second what’s this about me inviting you over and sending you nudes that apparently the whole fucking bar knows about”

“It's just banter y/n” Jeno shook his head.

“Banter ?” Yuta repeated, “didnt know talking about how you were going to fuck your girlfriend on the kitchen counter in front of her coworkers is banter.”

“What?” you walked up to Jeno, “W-where is this coming from Jeno ? you’re not like this.”

“Well how am I supposed to be y/n ?” Jeno raised his voice, “you wouldn't mind if he said that to you. You're always letting him get away with shit. Im the one sitting around here knowing my damn girlfriend is fucking around with someone else yet somehow still trying to forgive you and figure this out.”

“Why, though ?” you shrugged, “Is it because you want to prove to other people that you're the bigger person ?”

“Would you rather be with someone like him ? someone who will probably throw you aside after he’s bored, or someone like me who was always patient, always willing to put you first no matter what” Jeno reached for your hand, his eyes widening when you shrugged him off.

“Someone who I barely know that talks about me to my friends like im just some kind of whore or someone i've known for a while and not once shared anything intimate that happened between us,” you looked over at Yuta, “It was my one rule, the same rule I gave you Jeno and he was, Yuta is the only one who has abided to it.”

“y/n Im sorry,” Jeno lowered his voice, “we hurt each other and I want to fix that, just make your final decision...me or Yuta”

“Jeno….I apologize for using you, I'm sorry for leading and hurting your feelings” you began and Yuta slowly shook his head and turned around ready to hear the bad news that always seemed to follow him,

“But as crazy as it may sound to everyone here, I'm most like myself when I'm with Yuta, I love the person I am when I'm around him” Yuta turned at your words and instead of the sting he felt a sense of warmth. Hearing you say that in front of everyone who wanted the two of you apart, besides Johnny ofcourse, was absolute bliss.

“Who knows maybe it won't work and it will explode but I really want to try, that's the thing I'm most sure of, I really really want to try” you smiled as Yuta made his way over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Let's get out of here” Yuta whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek and draping his arm over your shoulder as the two of you exited the street walking away from the mess and not even giving it a second glance.

The two of you ended up at your apartment full of smiles and giggles as you slowly discarded your clothes on the way to the bedroom. Once your back touched your soft duvet covers Yuta pressed his body against yours and peppered your skin with kisses all the way up to your ear. “I want to try something different” he whispered and you nodded in response while Yuta pulled his shirt over his head and discarded his jeans. Yuta pulled you on top of his body and returned to your lips, kissing you slowly and passionately. His touches were so delicate and nurturing that every time his fingers ran down your back you felt butterflies in your stomach. You unhooked your bra shimmied out of it, still attached to the addictive taste of Yuta’s lips. He slowly rolled you onto your back and left soft kisses all the way down your neck, down the valley of your breasts until he reached your abdomen. You watched as he pulled your underwear off, looking at your body like it was the most beautiful thing he had seen. That was it. Instead of lust he looked at you with love. He looked like he wanted to take care of you, be gentle with you, savour every moment he had with you. Your breathing hitched when you quickly realized that he inserted himself inside of you and used one arm to steady himself on the bed as he lent down to meet your lips. His strokes were slow but sharp, digging his nails into your thigh from time to time, preventing himself from losing control. Wanting to feel more of him you signaled that you wanted to switch positions and Yuta licked his lips as he watched you place your knees on either side of him and sit down on his member. “F-fuck” he cursed as you began to ride him, keeping to his wishes of keeping things calm and slow. Yuta wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as the two of you kissed in between your moans, twirling your tongue with his as your hips slammed into his.

“Y-Yuta…” you moaned, feeling a tear escape your eye as the long night and the building orgasm caught up with you.

“Yes baby ?” he hummed in your ear.

“I really fucking love you” you sighed, just the words finally leaving your mouth made you sob with joy. It felt so fucking good to finally say it out loud.

Yuta responded by flipping you onto your back and chased both his and your orgasm, fucking you with his usual intensity until you came and he followed straight after, filling the room with heavy pants and both of you trying to catch your breath.

“I love you too y/n” He finally said, bringing you to his chest and pressed his lips against your forehead.

The two of you lay in your bed both napping for a bit until the first sight of dawn began filling the bedroom. You winced at the sun and hid your face in Yuta’s arms as he grinned at your actions.

“I don't want to go to work!” you grumbled.

“Fuck go to work after all the drama you caused ?” Yuta pinched your cheek playfully, earning a nudge in his side from you.

“Anyway” Yuta continued, “I got an email from Taeyong and he said if we want we can work remotely, he gave us the Okinawa project.” You sat up in bed and turned to face him, “the Okinawa project ? Its 9 months in Japan, the same project the whole damn building was trying to get” you blinked, still unsure if Yuta was just fucking with you.

“That's the one” Yuta shrugged, “anyways he said he was going to send either of us anyway since he knows we always get the job done. Oh and he actually said something really funny actually”

“What ?” you raised your brow and watched Yuta reread the text message on his phone.

“He said Doyoung was the one who suggested the two of us be the ones to go, who would've thought ?” Yuta closed the messages and tucked himself back into bed.

“Yeah” you smiled, “Who would've thought.”

THE END

#yuta smut #yuta nakamoto #yuta x you #nct yuta #nct smut #nct 127 smut #yuta angst #nct scenarios #jeno angst #lee jeno angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #2jaeh masterlist

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

Hi! Can I request headcanons for dating marcus (deadly class)? Thank you

HEADCANONS FOR DATING MARCUS LOPEZ ARGUELLO

A/N: Just a head’s up, I got a little carried away, so this is kinda long lol. Also, sorry this took forever! I’ve been suuuuuper busy lately :/ I almost had it done before work picked back up, but I couldn’t figure out how to end it. Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Before the two of you started dating, Marcus had no idea that you liked him, and for good reason

You did such a good job with hiding your feelings that sometimes even you forgot they were there, which was kind of the whole point

With girls like Saya and Maria around, sending out mixed signals and dropping subtle hints that they liked Marcus, too, it was intimidating

Add Marcus’s constant cynicism about love, and life in general, into the mix, and it was clear the chances of him actually liking you back were next to nothing

So, you knew it was probably for the best to move on

You used the “if you ignore it, it’ll go away” approach in the hopes that if you simply didn’t acknowledge your feelings, the problem would disappear

All this did, however, was create a whole new issue

Somewhere along the way, you’d begun to take the thought process of ‘ignoring your crush’ too literally

You and Marcus were best friends, so when, out of the blue, you stopped talking to him, he could tell something was up

He had no clue what, though

Naturally, he assumed it was something he had done

Marcus started asking around among your mutual friends to see if they knew anything, but they were all just as out of the loop as he was

You hadn’t told anyone about your repressed feelings for Marcus, and you had no intention of letting the secret slip any time soon, but accidents happen

The truth came out one night during a game of truth or dare when you were up on the roof smoking with the Rats

Your confession came tumbling out quicker than you could even think about reeling the words back in

“You hear that, Romeo?” Billy asked, elbowing Marcus in the ribs. “Y/N’s got the hots for you”

All Marcus could do was laugh nervously as he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet your gaze

To your relief, no one brought it up again for the rest of the game

When the next day rolled around and your crush on Marcus still wasn’t the topic of conversation, you started to think that you were in the clear

Maybe they’d all been too stoned to remember when they’d woken up that morning

Your hopes were shattered by the late afternoon

As you left the bathroom, Marcus spotted you from across the hall

He quickly rushed over and caught you by the elbow, dragging you back through the doorway

“Relationships aren’t really my thing,” he said

Marcus sounded like he had more to say, but before he got the chance, you cut him off

“It’s fine,” you said. “I get it”

“No, no. I mean, I like you, Y/N, really. I just don’t wanna mess it up”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face even if you tried

“You’re not gonna mess it up”

Before either of you could say more, the bathroom door opened and Petra walked in

She glanced between the two of you knowingly

“Hate to break this up, but if I hold this piss in any longer, I’ll explode”

With that, she pushed past you both, effectively ruining the moment

It didn’t take long after that for you and Marcus to make your relationship official

‘Official’ is a bit of a loose term in this case

For the most part, both of you kept the fact that you were dating fairly under the radar for fear of what others would do with that information

In a place like King’s Dominion, something as small as caring for another person beyond using them as an ally was seen as a weakness that could and would be used against you, and the last thing either of you wanted was to be put in a situation where you were pitted against each other

Of course, there were several instances when one (or both) of you nearly blew your cover

Such as in Martial Arts class

Instead of fighting you, Marcus would try to cop a feel

You’d quickly smack his hand away

“Miss De Luca’s right there!”

“She’s not looking”

In defense of both of you, though, a class in which hormonal teenagers are asked to pair themselves up and wrestle is practically an invitation to break the ‘no sex’ rule

The other classes you shared weren’t any better

Master Lin caught you and Marcus staring at each other instead of paying attention on multiple occasions, earning both of you a smack from his cane

Although Marcus was somewhat known for his smart mouth and talking back to authority, he knew better than to challenge Lin, not mention that if he did, he’d risk exposing the two of you in the process

So, Marcus bit back his insults and held in his tirade until the two of you were safely locked away in his dorm room

“He had no right to hit you like that”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, shoving another tissue up your nose to stop the bleeding. “Besides, he does it to everyone”

“That still doesn’t give him the right”

“Next time, I’m gonna stick that cane right up his ass”

Marcus wanted to shield you from all the violence at King’s, but when it was coming from teachers, there wasn’t much he could do about it

If it was a fellow student pushing you around, on the other hand, there was no holding him back

You loved how protective Marcus was of you, but sometimes you worried that he’d get carried away

Marcus always made sure you were never around to witness the fights take place, but the scrapes and bruises on his face that hadn’t been there when you saw him that morning were all the proof you needed

In such cases, you would insist on patching him up afterwards

The first few times this happened, Marcus was embarrassed by all the attention you were giving him

After a while, though, he grew to love the feeling of having someone fuss over him, especially if it was you

It was nice to have someone care about him for a change

You weren’t much of a fighter, but making sure he didn’t get Tetanus was your way of looking out for him

When you and Marcus weren’t getting into trouble, you were actually a pretty cute couple

Your roommates became accustomed to the two of you being a package deal, which often meant sneaking into each other’s rooms after lights out

Sometimes, it was to make out, but other times, it was so you could have late night conversations that you didn’t get the chance to have during the day

The topics of these conversations varied—they could be deep and philosophical (which was Marcus’s favorite kind), an opportunity to open up to each other about yourselves and your pasts, a time to plot someone’s death (usually only theoretically), or simply joking around

After especially long days, you would accidentally drift off in the middle of these nightly chats with your head on Marcus’s chest, but he never minded

He’d pull the covers up on your side and wrap his arms more tightly around you

While both of you were perfectly capable of pulling all-nighters, whenever you fell asleep, Marcus was never far behind

The sound of your evened-out breathing was like a lullaby to him, so it was safe to say that his sleep schedule drastically improved after the two of you started dating

You’d found that you slept better with Marcus, too, so on the few nights you spent apart, you’d doze off listening to the mixtapes he’d made you in your Walkman, which were full of your favorite songs and songs that reminded him of you (though, these had quickly become your favorites, too)

It was rare that the two of you weren’t together, though

Even during the day, you and Marcus were practically joined at the hip

At lunch, you would hold hands under the table and share food

Of course, this always opened the door for plenty of teasing from your friends, especially Lex

“While you’re at it, why don’t you chew the food up for each other and pass it back and forth like little birds?”

“Fuck off, Lex”

It was always in good fun, though

Actually, the other Rats were relieved when the two of you finally got together because the weird tension that had been brewing leading up to that point went away, meaning group hangouts could carry on normally

They could overlook you sitting in Marcus’s lap if it meant you weren’t being distant and secretive

Just like they pretended not to notice when you showed up to class wearing each other’s blazers by mistake after spending the night together

Or walking in late looking ✨especially disheveled✨

All in all, you and Marcus are King’s Dominion’s cutest couple™️ that only, like, five other people know about, but still-

#marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello x reader #marcus lopez arguello headcanons #marcus lopez headcanons #deadly class #deadly class headcanons

[hello-nichya-here]

How NOT to write romance - How I Met Your Mother edition

Warning: long-ass post and lots of bitterness over a TV show that ended nearly eight years ago.

Basics for story-telling

If the romance you want to write is dysfunctional, fucking embrace it and have fun with the concept instead of pretending the bad shit the characters do is okay because “it’s true love”

Acknowledgde that your main character has flaws instead of acting like he is a saint who can do no wrong for no reason other than “he is the main character. Definitively don’t make him do, of his own free will, the exact exact same things the supposedly “selfish and cruel” womanizer does and then excuse it as him having “succumbed to/been tricked by a bad influece” like he’s child who doesn’t know any better instead of being a grown ass adult.

Don’t make your characters be annoying, entitled fuckers who think they have the right to judge others for wanting different things out of a relationship/not wanting a relationship at all. Don’t act like monogamy, double dates with other couples, marriage and children are something EVERYONE secretly wants deep down.

Don’t demonize the “evil” character of the group and act like the “heroes” being appalled by the shit he does is anything other than hypocricy. There’s literally nothing forcing them to be friends with him, so they’re obviously not as horrified at bad shit he does as they say they are, otherwise they would have ditched him a long time ago.

Don’t have the “heartless womanizer”,  who we later find out is the ex-husband of the girl the lead wanted for himself, be shown to us exclusively through the eyes of the an unreliable narrator who had motivation to make him see worse than he is likely to be (get his kids to want him to get the girl instead of the “douchebag”). Also, don’t make his schemes to trick women into sleeping with them so completely absurd and ridiculous that the audience is pretty sure that 70% of the women he banged were completely aware he just wanted a quick fuck and went along with it anyway because they wanted some dick (and because the character is played by Neil Patric Harris, who is incapable of not being charismatic)

Fucking let you characters (especially the supposed hero we’re supposed to think is the best boyfriend ever) grow instead of making them constantly repeat the same mistakes

Lily and Marshall

Don’t make one of the characters hide something very important from their partner, and then have the audacity to be mad at them for “just not understanding” as if they were given any reason to understand what the problem even is

Don’t act like someone being heartbroken that their partner lied to them and practically made a plan to “escape” being married to them means they’re not being “supportive” of said partners dream - you should especially not do that after we were shown that they took a job they didn’t like just to make sure they’d have a secure future that would allow said partner to follow their dream.

Don’t have the character who was obviously in the wrong need to be convinced to get their shit together and apologize to their ex.

If a character forgave the ex who wronged them and even got back together with them, don’t have them constantly hold their past mistakes over their head like it that problem has not already been solved - you especially not make them do that on what was supposed to be their wedding day. They can either forgive their partner or not, they can’t keep going back and forth.

Don’t have them constantly hide important shit from each other (having a huge financial debt, getting a job, etc)

DO NOT have the character who fucked up years prior suddenly be willing to do the same shit again for the EXACT same reason (”I think our relationship is in the way of my dreams and I’m now completely isolated because I refuse to talk things out with you”) and then expect the audience to sympathize with them.

Ted and Robin 

Unless you’re writing a Disney/Disney-esque romance, don’t have your lead just look at someone across the room, decide they’re “The one”, imagine their life together and full on say “I’m love with you” AND “I love you” on the first goddamn date.

Don’t have the lead stalk his love interest, and throw three parties in a row just to have an excuse to get close to her now that she made it clear she is not interested in having a relationship with him.

Don’t have the “hero” lie about having broken up with his girlfriend so the girl he wants to be with will sleep with him, and then have him blame his actions on time. “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” Grow a pair of balls, Ted!

If one of the characters says “You’re going too fast on the whole ‘love’ thing. Can’t we just go on a few dates and see what happens instead of already starting to plan our lives together?” and the others throws a fit, that is called “being incompatible” and “damn, this dude doesn’t respect boundaries”, not “Wow, she’s so afraid of commitment”

If you want the audience to believe the main character’s feelings are not one-sided, don’t make the fact that said feelings ARE unrequited a running joke, and don’t have the girl only accept giving him a chance after having to deal with the fucker whining “But I love you” for months and/or after going through bad break ups. Also, if you have to retcon half the fucking show to “proove” that “she DOES love him”, that pairing fucking sucks.

Don’t compare the couple you want the audience to root for to the main character’s divorced, dysfunctional parents, and don’t have flashbacks showing that the lead had no clue what his girlfriend actually liked in bed AND that she literally covered up his face so she could pretend she was fucking someone else.

DON’T MAKE HER GET RID OF HER DOGS, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!

If your lead character is still jealous/possessive of his ex, thinks he still has a chance even after she told him to his face that she didn’t love him, and acts like she and her fiance (who he says is his friend) being happy is somehow them being selfish and cruel, your lead character is a loser AND an asshole.

Don’t throw away the entire premise of the show (Ted finding the REAL love of his life) just to force a bad pairing down the audience’s throat

Ted Mosby in general

Don’t have your “romantic, sensitive hero” break up with a girl on her birthday through an answering machine, come back into her life without warning years later because he’s afraid he’ll die alone, and find out that she never heard the message but was actually told about it by her friends and family who were at her apartment preparing a surprise party for her. You should especially not make his first reaction to this new be being mad that he was not invited to the party, and for the love of God, don’t make him break up with her on her birthday AGAIN.

Don’t have the “hero” cheat on his girlfriend and excuse it with bullshit like “Nothing good happens 2 a.m.” and “But I genuinely love Robin so it’s okay that I’m lying to both of them”. Do not, I repeat, do NOT have him blame it on his girlfriend being distant when she didn’t pick up the phone one night and then called back the second she was free to do so, while he was enjoying the gifts she sent him and LIED to her about having sent her some as well.

Don’t fucking make an entire episode with the premise of him turning a no into a yes - and telling that story to his children like it’s romantic.

Don’t have his fiance, who he knows has a rocky relationship with the father of her daughter, tell him she is uncomfortable with him inviting his ex to their wedding and then have him decide “This means I should invite her ex as well”. Also don’t expect me to feel bad for him when she runs off with said ex.

Don’t have him spend YEARS waiting for one of the hundreds of girls he thinks is “the one” to be single and even ask her neighbour to spy on her and let him know when/if she breaks up with her boyfriend - again, for YEARS.

Don’t have the lead say he’s gonna tell their kids about his love story with their DECEASED mother, only for it to secretly be an excuse for him to go “By the way, I’m still in love with aunt Robin despite her having rejected me for 25 years, can I go screw her?”

Don’t act like making the characters reverse back into who they were at the beginning at the story means they’re gonna make things work this time when the whole point of their break up in the beginning on the story was the fact that they’re just not right for each other.

Robin and Kevin

A therapist who was supposed to help their patient move on after a bad break up that messed them up, dating said patient is a major red flag. It is also a bad sign that, when she cheats on him and wants to break up, he realized what she was doing to used his job as “evidence” that he knew better and that she should NOT tell her partner how she felt/what she actually wanted.

Do NOT have said therapist date yet ANOTHER patient that asked him help to move on from a bad break up. Seriously, Kevin was a creep, stop acting like he was some angel who “deserved better than Robin.”

BONUS: How NOT to break up a couple - Barney and Robin edition

Don’t act like their relationship falling appart after their friends kept meddling, and even kept them locked in a room against their will until they labeled their relationship as something they aproved of, is somehow “proof” that they’re not good for each other.

Don’t retcon their relationship to force a break up (seriously, Barney was super supportive of Robin long before he even fell in love with her, but I’m supposed to believe he’d be a bad boyfriend who is never there for her? And he loved advantures and always said “challenge accepted”, but was suddenly miserable travelling the world with her and couldn’t deal with not having wi-fi at the hotel? Fuck off)

Don’t spend an entire season focusing on their wedding, have them get married and then divorce THE NEXT FUCKING EPISODE! Why do you hate your audience? Even people who don’t want them together can see this a terrible idea.

And most important of all, when people question what the fuck were you thinking, don’t have a meltdown on twitter and say that people who think Barney can change are responsible for Donald Trump being elected, you fucking weirdo, go see a therapist (that isn’t like Kevin)

#how i met your mother #himym finale #swarkles #anti ted and robin #fuck ted mosby #worst finale ever #barney stinson #barney deserved better #robin deserved better #they deserved better #i deserved better

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

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