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catiuskaa · 2 months

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new task: valentine’s day.

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 10.6k (OH MY FUCKING GOD)

CW: it’s like fluffy comfort because I say so, kim seungmin supremacy (YES), use of spanglish (just on the text messages bc yes, it’s not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format for plot convenience (and a whole bunch of emojis and colors), the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), use of cliché valentine and enemies2lovers tropes (BECAUSE THEY ARE FUN AND THEY WORK), academic rivals (we love to see it), bad student reader x good student seungmin (like bad/mean girl x good boy ish), mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying?, mentions of being followed, use of (pet)names because I don’t like using ‘y/n’: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, (yes i’m just petty like that, sue me), hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is almost a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

SPECIAL THANKS! To my lovely pookies @lyramundana and @tonks-21 for ideas and support, plus also, most of the classmate’s names are thanks to gorgeous gourgeous @stayconnecteed and her spanishverse series bc i’m so invested! Go check all of their blogs out! 100% recommend. son mis chicas españolitas, hehe<3

A/N: alone on valentine’s day? same for me, pookie! but dontchu worry, mister kim seungmin is here to help us out<3 (and if not, we can always help each other😚🫶)

[☆★🌷★☆]

{PROLOGUE: THE GROUPCHAT}

At first, you didn’t really know him.

To think for a second that there was a time where you didn’t know who he was made you sigh. Oh, how you wish you had never, ever encountered him.

…Kim Seungmin.

Some may say that ‘rivals’ or ‘enemies’ is a term that could seem too intense regarding a simple statement: that you two didn’t get along.

But no. Because those kind of words were exactly how you’d define your relationship.

And it had all started the first day of your last year before graduating. When you made the class groupchat.

> you created ‘Year 13-A 😼😼’

> you added ‘lucas🤺’ ‘atenea🛐’ ‘noa🫶’ and 16 more.

> you: guys help, am I missing people?

> you: @ atenea🛐 told me to create this group for homework n stuff but idk if I have everyone’s numbers 😵‍💫😵‍💫

< noa🫶: tía you’re missing two people no?

< lara💋: hala, new people?? 👀

< noa🫶: pero- they’re literally from the other group, girl

< abril🌻: you even know them lara

< abril🌻: se te va la pinza JAJSJA

< miguel📚: sí, there should be 22 people (creo)

> you: oh right, Lix told me!

> you: yeah i’ll add them now, brb 🏃‍♀️

Well.

Rookie mistake.

> you added ‘kim seungmin™️’, ‘hyunjin🎨’

> you: omg i even added everyone

< lucas🤺: omg omg

< kim seungmin™️: omg omg so crazyy

You rolled your eyes, smiling slightly as you texted. But that was just because you hadn’t talked to him before.

Now was a different story, of course. You wouldn’t smile, not for Kim Seungmin.

> you: @ kim seungmin™️ what was crazy is how difficult it was finding someone who had your phone number, lol

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: fr fr omg

< lucas🤺: que es omg

< lucas🤺: ‘oh me gustas’ ? omg?

< lara💋: you’re such an idiot, asshole

< lucas🤺: ohhh you love me so bad 😌😌😌

< isabel🌸: she knows better lol

< lucas🤺: dude, you’re my sister

< lucas🤺: shouldn’t you be backing me?

< isabel🌸: there’s a fee for that, dude.

You giggled at the stupid teasing, used to your mates’ shenanigans that never ceased to make you laugh.

But then, he replied.

< kim seungmin™️: @ you the only difficult thing here is you reaching graduation

…

Your smile faded.

You read that once more. Then again. And another time.

You chuckled dryly.

What was this guy on about?

> you: ah? wdym?

You remember thinking that maybe he was joking. That maybe he was someone who talked to people with a lot of harsh remarks without really meaning them. That maybe he was trying to be funny, or something.

Other texts showed up, but Kim Seungmin —named like so in the contact Felix had shared to you— wasn’t replying.

< minho🐈: guys wtf it’s 00:12

< lucas🤺: oh he uses the other clock

< lucas🤺: so its am-pm for us but not for you

< lucas🤺: think you’re special? wanna fight?

< noa🫶: lucas just shut up and go to bed

< han(gry)🐿️🎙️: damn right 🛌🛌🛌

< miguel📚: guys, stop texting 😓

> you: yeah guys lol

< minho🐈: no u started this

< minho🐈: u shush

You snickered softly, used to Minho’s humour, quickly playing along.

> you: ?! unfair ☝️🤓

< kim seungmin™️: no, minho’s right for once

< kim seungmin™️: you should shush

< kim seungmin™️: you’re less annoying when you’re quiet

You frowned at your phone, your face contorted in angry confussion.

Who did this guys think he was?

With a huff, you typed a rapid “gtg guys!”, ignoring Seungmin’s texts, and quickly settled your phone back on your pocket, getting off the bus and finally arriving home.

You groaned, the text that that Seungmin idiot had sent still rolling in your head even after you laid in bed. You passed your hands through your hair.

“Difficult to reach graduation?” You mumbled, eyes fixated ln the chatroom the sentence feeling like acid in your mouth.

Kim Seungmin wasn’t ready for how difficult his last year was going to be, solely for his stupid text message.

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 2: UNDER THE STREETLIGHT}

After avoiding Seungmin like the plague all Thursday, only looking at his back when you zoned off in class, Friday arrived earlier than expected.

You hadn’t been able to concentrate at all, the thought of his sweet taste lingering in your mouth, almost letting you feel the ghost of his lips pressed against yours.

“Hello? Earth to… oh, you’re awake, Jesus.” Abril looked at you with a smile, but she was unable to hide her worried look.

“Of course I am,” you mumbled, shaking your head sideways. “What’s going on?”

“You haven’t even touched your delicious and totally-not-overcooked pasta.” Lara mentioned the cafeteria lunch as she poked it whith her fork, full of humour. “It leads to believe that you’re dealing with something far more interesting that the technical drawing homework, that’s for sure.”

You bit your lip, hesitating.

“Is it because Henry Li has been ignoring you?” Noa mentioned softly.

You blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

He’d been ignoring you? Now that she had mentioned, maybe that could’ve happened. Maybe you would’ve realized if you hadn’t been so focused on Seungmin and whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes…

…or maybe you should look for an easier name for it.

“Uh, no, he invited me to this new place today, actually,” you brushed your hair with your hand mindlessly. “But I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” You smiled at the girls, and joined in at their conversation.

After lunch, you separated from Lara and Noa, who had literature, and Abril, who had been hanging out with a guy called Jeongin from her photography club recently, and so you headed to the study room.

It was a quiet place, quieter that what you had initially expected for a high school study room. Matter of fact, you thought it was a pity that the school closed it after class, considering that in that case you wouldn’t have to walk to the public library.

You opened the door silently, finding that there were barely any students, only three or four people studying silently. You were heading towards a lonely corner so you could listen to music in a high volume without having to pay attention if it could be heard through your headphones. Or maybe, considering that it hadn’t been a lie and that you had slept like four hours maximum, you could probably rest there until the bell rang.

You snickered when you looked to your right, finding someone struggling with the technical drawing homework that had been assigned that morning, the one that Lara and Noa had been talking about.

You gently tapped the guy’s shoulder, but spoke before he even turned.

“You’re missing this incline here,” you whispered on his ear, your arms coming above his shoulders, placing your hands above his, placing the square and bevel on the right angle. “It should be seen, but with dotted lines, get it? That way the side-view makes sense.” You added with a soft giggle.

“Oh, right. T-thank you…” he mumbled, not facing you.

You brushed it off as weird, but your sleepy self wasn’t bothered enough to notice or pry, and instead smiled, ruffled his hair and settled in your cozy little corner, placing your scarf in between your arms and rested your head on it, merely “resting your eyes”, but only if a teacher happened to come and check on the students.

Seungmin stared at your sleeping figure, eyes almost wide. He felt like his heart was going to explode underneath the layers of flesh. His hands tingled, his usually warm and sweaty palms missing the comfortable coldness of yours, so soothing and relaxing.

Either you had completely gone crazy, or he had fallen asleep trying to complete the stupid assignment. He knew you were good at technical drawing, it was one of the subjects were he wasn’t. It wasn’t a surprise when several students started asking you for help on their papers and assignments, considering that you were one of the few who was able to receive praise from the teacher, a middle-aged man with no kind of vocation with kids or teaching, by any means.

But it had never happened when he was the one in need of help, had you ever considered the idea of helping him.

He watched you, puzzled, as he had never done before, and maybe it would be the first time of many because Seungmin found himself liking what he was seeing, dare I say mesmerized by the image before him.

By you.

Your sleepy figure was as calm as he had ever seen from you, sleeping with little to no care in the world. Your hair remained stuck in a ponytail, which allowed Seungmin to notice that it left the skin of your neck visible, and despite the voice on his head saying that it was a behaviour quite like a man from the Modern Ages, just being so fixated at that small bit of skin, he couldn’t help but feel bashfully amazed.

Suddenly, he noticed you licked your lips, your eyes still closed and your small smile never faltering, but that made something start to flutter in his stomach, as if a whole lot of butterflies had been awaken at the sight of you, tranquil, and sweet, and cute, and he forced himself to stop looking at you abruptly, wondering why he had done that in the first place.

Licking your lips only made Seungmin aware of how dry his were, and action plus the thought of your lips immediately brought back what had happened on Wednesday.

Crazy. He’d gone completely crazy.

He felt his hand slowly approach his lips and he grazed them with his fingers, almost able to taste your chapstick back on his lips. Because he had been able. All Wednesday night. And a small part of him wanted more of it.

He blushed, scratching his eyes. He hadn’t slept shit, his mind betraying him every time he attempted to close his eyes instantly going back to the memory of how you stared at him after your kiss, dark pupils, and red lips, and so ridiculously gorgeous that it made Seungmin wonder why whenever he saw you he resorted to his first line in code: being mean.

He never used that side with anyone. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, because small, teasing and slightly unhinged Kim Seungmin had tried to be himself in middle school, and… well.

Let’s just say that it didn’t work like expected.

But everyone loved dorky, funny and sweet Seungmin. Even with the difference with grades, that had definetely not been appreciated in his early years, nowadays people would see that as a part of him, and he recieved praise for it, not only from teachers, but also nice classmates, who sometimes went to seek help from him.

He just needed to pretend for a bit. Smile here and there, and put on a sheepish act of bashfulness that despite it not being natural, it wasn’t totally bad. It wasn’t like middle school.

But then you came in the picture.

Something about you made Seungmin want to tease you. To see you finally look at him after battling in your head if you even should, and then, sometimes when you were mad enough, you’d glare at him, and he couldn’t help but grin. Your cheeks flushed in anger that creeped up your body, how you looked at him through your lashes or how you’d tease him back. The first time you had done that, his brain’s chemistry had changed, he was sure of that.

He didn’t care about the mean remarks, and that now seemed almost obvious, considering what had happened almost two days ago in the school bus.

But it got impossible to miss when Seungmin noticed your sleepy self shivering in your slumber. With a mental groan, careful of not making any kind of loud noise in the study room, he slowly got closer to your corner, and tried to close the windows near it. And failed, because the stupid windows were old and rusty, only able to move them a bit.

He bit his lip, arguing in his head. Would that be enough? No, it probably wasn’t, right? Yeah, it couldn’t be. Considering that you always wore thin clothing, always borrowing your mates’ jackets…

…it couldn’t possibly hurt to do a bit more, right?

Seungmin approached you further, and shook a hand close to your face, but you were dead, as still as a fallen tree, despite the sunlight that enetered throught the windows glowing on your face, the Sun in winter, that brought little to no warmth, made you shine in his eyes.

He’d see you in the public library a couple of hours later. It didn’t mean anything. He could probably tease you for sleeping in school later. Yeah. And then he’d ask for his jacket back.

Seungmin was lost in his thoughts as he carefully settled his jacket over your shoulders, and he froze when you sighed deeply, surrounded by a familiar warmth and a cozy scent that you didn’t know you had missed or needed until then, but you didn’t wake up.

He blinked when he noticed your phone in your hand, the screen suddenly turning on. He giggled at your wallpaper, which had a silly joke on it and a funny doodle of a banana.

But then his eyes trailed down to the notification that had made the phone turn on.

[3 new messages from: henry li🫧]

> sorry i didn’t get to see u yesterday, had to sort smth out!

> guys.its.totally.a.real.address.wdym.lol

> it’s the address for later, shortcake 😉❤️

…huh?

Seungmin blinked once. Twice. Nah, his glasses had to be deceiving him. Then, another notification popped up.

> can’t wait to see you ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

He winced silently.

Ugh. What a cringy choice of emojis.

Did you really like this guy?

He frowned, going back to his place in the study room.

Ugh.

He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care? That wasn’t his business. Never was, never would be. Not like he was interested. Pffft, no. Not at all. Yeah, nah. That kiss had been a one time thing. Totally. 100%. He wasn’t thinking about it again. Nope. Nor did he want to kiss you again. Not in a chance.

Just… ugh.

It was just that… no. Scratch that. No further comments.

He sighed as he went back to his work, feeling a sudden inspiration hit him as he took out a blank paper for the English class valentine’s assignment, but not before he looked at you again, then shook his head, turning the music back on in his headphones. He started writing, drafting, and throwing papers away, getting slightly desperate at his perfectionism.

He sighed. His eyes trailed off towards you.

Slowly, words started to flow in his head. Pretty sentences, things that he had kept hidden in the back of his mind. Maybe it could be good to let it all out. It couldn’t hurt. Yeah.

So he stared writing. Vomiting word after word. And he finished earlier than expected, with two papers.

One was perfect for the english assignment. It was boring and dull enough to be handed in for a school work, but good enough for his perfectionism.

And the other… was something different.

Something that had only happened because you were there, in front of him.

He stood up, letter on his hand. He leaned against the table you were sleeping in, and settled the jacket further on your shoulders. He sighed, grabbing a pen from his pencil case, folding the letter and signed it.

Maybe it was a bad idea, he thought as he picked up his stuff from the table and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He looked at your figure once more before heading out.

It had been to check if you were still asleep, of course.

Just to check.

Yeah.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Your phone vibrated in your hand again.

And again.

With a groan, you silently accepted that there was no way you could fool an inanimate object into believing that you were still asleep.

But when you yawned and looked around and didn’t find the posters in your room, but rather a whole bunch of tables and chairs, your eyes widened.

It hadn’t been your alarm but a phone call that had awoken you.

“Y-yeah?” You mumbled, picking up the call and quickly taking your backpack and scarf and rushing out of the study room, taking a quick scan and making sure you weren’t leaving anything behind.

“I’m heading to the club now, shortcake.” A low voice greeted. “Are you getting ready?”

Who…?

“H-henry?” You frowned slightly.

You heard him snicker through the other side. “Yeah?”

Fuck, shit, fuck.

“N-nothing! Nothing, I, uh, I was just doing my make up. Y-you know.”

What? You frowned, even more this time. No, that didn’t make any sense. You always blabbered about how you never did your make up for clubbing because the one you owned was cheap and never stayed on anyways.

“Sure, yeah.”

It didn’t seem like he had noticed.

“You can head there before me. I’ll go there eventually, yeah?”

You heard him snicker on the other side of the phone call. “Ok, baby.” He cleared his throat, stuttering a bit. “Y-yeah, I mean, I’ll uh… get there in a bit. Don’t rush.”

Only then you felt that the wind from outside wasn’t freezing your bones like usual. You squinted at the jacket you were wearing.

“Henry, did you…?” But he hung up.

It probably was him. Yeah. That’s why he had called you. To make sure you’d wake up.

Besides, there were little to no people who’d do such a kind gesture towards you, and even if the jacket was pretty much your style and it smelled like heaven, it didn’t feel like something any of the girls would keep around.

So, why didn’t it made you feel giddy that Henry had given you his jacket?

You kept on running through the hallways and catched the bus that was usually there for students who had extracurricular classes, unlucky people who had to stay in school late in Fridays. You never had, using Fridays to be a bit lazy or to start homework sooner just to hand it in earlier than Seungmin.

Oh.

Friday.

Seungmin.

The library.

You bit your nails, staring through the window.

Would he wait there for long?

What was he going to do once he figured you weren’t going to show up?

Were you… feeling guilty?

No… that… that couldn’t be, you chuckled dryly. Mean decisions against Kim Seungmin didn’t spend too much time on the judgmental side of your brain. You just… teased him back. And he’d take it. And double it. And so on.

So why did this feel too mean?

Could it be because of whatever-happened-that-cannot-and-should-not-be-remembered-every-five-minutes?

Could the fact that it had been the best thing that had happened in a long while?

Well, fine.

Not just ‘thing’.

A kiss.

And for fuck’s sake, what kiss.

You groaned and grunted, sprinting home as soon as the bus stopped.

Why did it always have to be him?

You entered your room and burst open your closet. The jacket was cool, you thought. And if you were going to see Henry, you could just wear it and hand it back to him in the club.

It was vintage, but its warmth engulfed you as if it had been handmade. Its funky designs and patterns looked cute, and its grey color contrasted well with it. You chose the first dress you saw, a tight black dress with no sleeves that you would’ve discarded as too short if you had more time, but it wasn’t exactly something you could’ve bragged about.

Jacket, dress, high socks, boots, wallet, phone, keys, headphones… yeah. You nodded, checking all of the boxes in your mental list, and started hurriedly walking to the address he had sent.

You hoped you weren’t going to be too late.

[☆★🌷★☆]

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

“The number you are trying to call is turned off or out of coverage. Please, leave your message after the—”

You hang up, tired of hearing that mechanic voice over and over again.

You looked around you, and there was nothing that looked like a club. You had tried to enter the building that the address lead to, but it hadn’t got well.

A strange figure opened a small window and gave you a look, almost disgusted. It took you a second to understand that they were wearing a mask, with dark lace and other colours. But just when you were about to speak, the window slammed close.

You blinked, puzzled. Where the fuck was Henry sending you? What kind of club was this?

You had started to roam around the building, trying to call him —and failing misserably, because the damn guy couldn’t pick up the fucking phone for the life of him—, but now you were starting to run out of ideas.

It was past 12pm, your legs shivered with every slight wind that swooshed your way, and there was no one that was going to pick up the phone. Not Henry, that ridiculous imbecile, not Lucas, who always bragged about having his phone in night mode, so nothing would get to him until morning, and not the girls, because Noa had her phone turned off, Atenea was most likely sleeping, Abril and Lara hadn’t picked up either, and your list of close friends who could possibly pick up was… that.

And no one was picking up the fucking phone.

You were about to keep on ranting about how disgustingly bad this was turning out to be, but you heard footsteps coming your way. You looked around, but didn’t find the source. With a frown, you walked to the building again

Placing your hand on one of the windows, who were dark and almost impossible to see through, you could notice that in the dim light from what could be seen outside, Henry was well entertained with a certain kind of company, so much that he couldn’t even pick up your phone.

You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the tinted glass. Of course. Yeah. That made total sense. It was Henry, after all. He had always been known to be kind of an asshole anyways. It couldn’t possibly come out as a surprise the fact that he actually was.

You shook your head and mentally mocked him and the blond girl he was kissing.

Henry Li could go to Hell.

Guess there was nothing left to do now. You had dumped Seungmin, and Henry had dumped you. It was an ass move over an ass move. Maybe you kinda deserved it.

But then your thoughts ended in a halt, because you swore you could feel a shadow starting to follow you from a distance.

They were behind you, but not too close, and due to their hoodie it was imposible to distinguish their face.

So you started walking. Turning left. Right. Left again. Right. Just kept on walking. Don’t look behind you. They’d probably just leave. This had to be your imagination, 100%.

But when you took a peak, the silhouette was not only still behind you, slowly walking towards you, but a slight bit closer this time.

You swallowed dry, gulped, even. Your heart tightened in your chest. What kind of joke was this? Your eyes were tearing up. You were tired, and this was mental. Adrenaline rumped through your body, and even if you were already lost, you kept on walking.

You took your phone from your pocket. Think, think, think. Who could you call? Who could pick up at one am? You scrolled down your list of contacts, until for a reason you don’t fully get, your eyes stopped at a certain name.

—> seungmeannie

It couldn’t possibly hurt to try… right?

You sniffed almost silently, and pressed call.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

You started crying a bit louder, unable to hold it back.

“Eh, hi…?”

“S-seungmin!” You sobbed, smiling. It was the first time in your life you had been that happy just from being able to hear his voice, raspy and low.

“W-what?” He stopped talking, and you guessed that it was because he hadn’t figured out who was calling him so late at night. “Do you know what time it is, you fun-sized dingus?” He groaned sleepily at the phone.

You bit your lip and sniffed.

“Wait. Are you… crying?” His tone had changed.

“I-i’m sorry about t-this eve-ening.” You sobbed, failing to hold back the tears, hugging the jacket that was still on your shoulders.

“Are you drunk, little one?” You never thought your shoulders could relax as fast as they had when his soft tone of voice called you that stupid nickname.

“N-no, I… I went to this stupid club, with-“

“With Henry, yeah.” The way he said his name, as if he wanted to put that stupid bitch in a box and send him to the end of the world took you by surprise.

“B-but um, he’s not picking up my phone and I…” you gulped. Taking a peek behind you, you shivered. “I think someone’s following me.”

“Wait, what?” Seungmin had never stood up from bed as fast as he had done that night. “Where are you?” He asked to the phone as he randomly picked a sweater and his glasses, biting his lip as he struggled to put on his shoes.

“I… I don’t know.” You sobbed. “I started walking away so he’d go, but it didn’t work.” You mumbled, sniffing. You felt so stupid.

“Everything’s going to be fine, yeah?” It was the first time in the whole afternoon that you felt like that statement could be true. Because Seungmin was going to help you. “Don’t hang up. Tell me what buildings can you see. Try heading away from small alleys. I’ll find you.”

Seungmin rushed out of his appartment, not before scribbling down what was happening in a post it note and left it on his mother’s bedside table.

“T-there are some restaurants, but they’re all closed.” You started, dubious as how was this going to work. “There’s a road to my left.”

“Can you name any of the restaurants, little one?” Seungmin had a hunch, and he huffed, sprinting to the plaza closest to his appartment.

“I just passed by a Mexican, I think.” You sniffed, Seungmin’s soothing voice working like a charm and calming you down slowly. “In front of me, I think this is a Japanese… it’s called Ginza.”

Seungmin chuckled, feeling relief flooding his body. “Y-yeah, ok! I- god, yes, I know where you are. Keep walking straight ahead. There should be a park, right?” He started running, hiding the fact that he’d have to rush and make the usual fifteen minutes it could take him to arrive where you were and make them five.

He needed to see you and make sure you were safe.

“I… shit, yeah! I can see it!” You went back to crying, a smile planted in your features.

“I’m almost there. You’re doing so well, little one.”

You felt your cheeks getting warmer at that. Walking a bit faster, you looked behind you, finding that the silhouette was still there.

But Seungmin was close. Seungmin said everything would be fine.

“S-seungmin?” You mumbled at the phone, wanting to hear his voice, so soothing and warm.

“Under the streetlight, silly.”

You heard the beep that sounded when Seungmin ended the call, but he was there, tangible, a couple of meters away from you.

You chuckled, happy to see him for the first time ever, and crying away the pent up stress and worry, you ran off to him, and clung your arms around his neck tightly, unbothered at the need to stand on the tips of your toes to do so.

Seungmin stuttered, still panting from the marathon he had ran to get there, 100% baffled at this. But it was ok. You were there. You were safe.

“T-they’re still behind me.” You whispered against his chest.

He could feel your nervousness on your tone, how scared you were judging by how strongly your arms closed behind his neck, and hesitated for a second before hugging you back, his arms pulling you closer by your lower back, keeping you grounded and so weirdly safe in his grasp, and it felt so strangely comforting coming from him that your eyes swelled with more tears.

You couldn’t see or feel the person behind you anymore, but Seungmin did, somewhat clearly.

The only thing that his mind made up that moment is that for the person to leave, they’d have to believe you two did know each other.

And Seungmin’s heart beated loudly in his chest when your grasp loosened and you stood back on your feet, allowing him to see how your lip trembled, how you were holding back tears and how you looked at him with a million emotions hidden in the colour of your eyes. He had never seen you cry before.

His hands itched to touch you again, a sudden need to comfort you that overwhelmed him.

So he did.

His hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears, and he pecked your lips softly, smiling at your baffled face. His arms engulfed you in a comforting hug that smelled so much like the jacket you were wearing.

He looked behind you, and the silhouette was nowhere to be found. As if it had never been there before.

“It’s ok.” Seungmin whispered in your ear. “I’m here now. You’re safe. They’re gone, yeah?” His arms rested on your shoulders as his slender hands stroked your hair. “No one’s gonna hurt you now, pretty.”

And you started to cry on his shoulder, because not only then you realized how bad you had needed a hug, and not even the fact that it had been a hug from him that you had secretly yearned for, but because none of your excuses made sense now.

There was no ‘fake’ or ‘real’ Seungmin.

Whatever he was, fake or not, stood in front of you as he hugged you under the streetlight.

And you sighed as he cooed at you softly, because deep down you had known for a while.

It was time you came to terms with it.

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 3: WINDOWS, LETTERS AND POEMS}

Wednesday. 9:56 am. 14th February.

Most of your classmates were still arriving from their next class as you stared at two papers in your hands slightly from afar, pencil in your lips.

You had discarded most of your creations all Monday and Tuesday when you finally ended with a draft you liked for the stupid english homework. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

But the letter in your other hand, however, was something you had never done before.

“What’s that you got there?”

Any kind of bubbly and nervous emption you had vanished at the sound of that low voice.

“Fuck off, Li.” You grunted in a husky tone, frowning at him and grabbing back the letter from his hands.

“Is it a love letter for me?” He chuckled, ignoring your behaviour.

“Why the fuck would I write that, huh?” You laughed, a chuckle full of acid, one that had much more hatred that you had ever said before.

Henry brushed a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help but think he looked stupid. You had liked this guy? Ugh.

“Because today is valentine’s day, shortcake.”

You squinted and frowned at him.

“Swishing those dyed and damaged locks like a Loreal advert won’t make anyone fall in love with you.” You snorted, and realized the people in the hallway had fallen into silence, listening to your conversation. “Or maybe it worked with that blond girl in the club?” You pretended to ponder out loud, leaning against the locker behind you, facing him with confidence.

“Wait, what?” He mumbled.

You snickered, taking him by surprise. “Oh, silly. I was never going to date you. I kept hearing that you were an ass and figured that was right, because aside from me, little to no people talked to you. I guess I just felt pityful.” You faked a pout.

He clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.

“You’re lying.” He grunted.

You chuckled. “You wish I was. That blond girl didn’t steal my man. She stole my problem.” You heard some gasps from the people in the corridor, as they had formed some kind of circle around you two.

But then, Henry snorted, and cleared his throat, talking with a much louder voice. “So you’re not going to let everyone know about you and Seungmin?” He smirked. “I feel like that’s a bit unfair. Making it seem like I’m the bad guy and all.”

You tried hard to make it seem like that hadn’t surprised you. You were so surprised by it that you didn’t have time to react when he yanked your letter from your hand.

“Such sweet words, all dedicated to him,” he mocked. “I think these people want to know.”

“Give it back!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes dull with embarassment.

Even if he wasn’t as tall as Seungmin, there was still a decent difference between you and him. And with a sly grin, he raised the paper above your head.

You licked your lips, anger filling your body.

“Give. It. Back.”

But then he started reading.

“I looked at him as if he were the Sun, in that I never looked at him except in frustration.” He read out loud, moving the paper from your reach everytime you tried to reach. “I seeked his warmth, I complained when he was gone, but I never looked, not until I noticed he was leaving, and in the beauty of the sunset, I wondered how I had never seen him before.”

You stared at the floor, a blush spreading through your cheeks, coming from your neck.

“And that’s basically what happened.” You mumbled to Abril and Lucas over at a bench in the school grounds, hours after that whole thing had happened.

“What?!” You flinched at Abril’s loud voice. “I’m going to kill him. I am so going to murder that nasty ass bitch.” She threatened to stand up, but Lucas grabbed her forearm.

“And what about Seungmin?” He questioned softly, a lot more gentle that what you usually would expect.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“I haven’t spoken to him since Friday” You stared at him with a weakness you had never felt before. “It’s like he doesn’t want to talk to me, I…” you sighed. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” You sniffed.

You had to stay in the study room for the afternoon, waiting for Atenea to get out of the club she was in so you could head to the library together like you had promised, but as you studied in silence, someone sat in the chair in front of you, frowning at you.

You took your headphones off and scratched your eyes. “Eh… Hyunjin?”

“Abril told Lara and she told me,” he mentioned in a huff. “And I’ve known Seungmin for many years. He’s not an impulsive guy. He hasn’t treated anyone like how he treats you.”

You blinked, puzzled, but frowned at him. “Are you going to scold me?”

“You better believe I am!” He scoffed. “Would you like me to politely tell you that you’ve behaved like a total idiot around him?”

“What are you—?!”

“You simply never bothered to talk to Seungmin about any of what Lara told me!” He stated with force, and you didn’t think to tell him to shut up, considering that the study room was empty that time.

“Do you really expect me to understand whatever was happening and tell him right away?” You blurted out with anger, a bit shocked at his rough approach. “Had I had the opportunity I would have!

He rolled his eyes, passing a hand over his face in a sign of desperation.

“You had every opportunity! For months!” He left his hand on the table, and started tapping at it with force, trying to make a point. “Admit it. Seungmin has been in your head ever since we both changed from the other class and you two started bickering.” Hyunjin’s eyes stared at you with a fierce glare that almost threatened to pierce holes through your skull.

“That’s bullshit!” You spitted out defensively.

“Oh, spare me!” He brushed it off. “There have been countless clues! Your stupid need to make everything a competition when it comes to him is infuriating. He talks to me about these things, you know?” He swallowed, and you leaned back in surprise, but he kept on going. “How you look at him when you’re angry, or how you mock and tease him back. It’s stupid!” He cursed out loud. “And these last two weeks have only made it so much worse.”

“What do you mean, worse?” You pondered softly, slowly taking in Hyunjin’s dramatic act.

“I mean, you were totally smitten by how he ridiculously kissed you at the back of the bus last week, considering that you kissed him back.” He stated clearly. “And he wouldn’t shut up about it and how you were ignoring him after, which, great fucking work, by the way, the dude wouldn’t shut up about you.” Hyunjin blinked slowly, trying to recall and voice what he was thinking. “And then he lends you his jacket when a mystery debutant shows up.”

“A—a what?”

“Motherfucker, eh, that Henry asshole.” Hyunjin rubbed his eyes. “I had to endure him talking shit about him for an hour because he saw him texting you some weird shit with cringe emojis.” The exasperation on his tone rendered you almost speechless. “And even then he struggled to admit how fucking jealous he was about that guy. He had your attention. He had your smile. You looked at Henry, not at Seungmin, and ah, for fuck’s sake.” Hyunjin covered his face with his hands. “He felt so ridiculously powerless that he talked to me about it. He’s never done that before!”

You were only able to blink, struggling to grasp everything he was saying.

“And then, with no word of warning, you called him, at, what, like, one in the morning?” Hyunjin said in a huff, the thought of that bringing back his anger, making him stare at you with a frown again. “He, jesus, he talked for AGES about how you hugged him, and the fact that you were wearing his jacket, like— like you’re doing now, what the fuck.” He stopped mid-scolding, staring at you with confusion.

“It’s… it’s his?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly as he nodded. “What, you didn’t know? You helped him with tecnical drawing, he gave you his jacket, bla bla bla. That whole thing?”

You blushed, shaking your head sideways. You had done what?

“Nevermind. You can talk to him about that later.”

It was your turn to scoff now. “Judging by the fact that he sent you, I don’t think he would like to see me anytime soon.”

Hyunjin chuckled dryly.

“Don’t you even dare keep ignoring him. This stupid game has lasted for too long. Besides, he doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in dance practice, but whatever. You needed to know, because he’s a mess.” Hyunjin stated, passing a hand through his hair. “He can’t sleep well, he can’t concentrate, he can’t do anything.”

It looked like the scolding was over, but there was a remaining anger that came back to him as a memory struck.

“And, moreover, you callously ignored the letter Seungmin wrote you, even though he told you he loved you!”

You were looking at your notebook on the table, halfly staring at your nails and fidgeting with them, but your head almost snapped when you stared at him.

“What letter?” You muttered, your eyes locked on his. He frowned, his eyes slightly widening.

Your heart started beating faster, almost so loud you could hear it in your head.

“Hyunjin, what letter?!”

[☆★🌷★☆]

Seungmin felt his lungs on fire.

Run, run, run.

His feet were hurting, because his old ass shoes were busted enough that their insides were almost destroyed from everyday use.

But he needed to find you.

Maybe it was because it was Valentine’s day, despite the obvious influence that a certain friend of yours had done.

“Wait, you— you missed school this morning?” Lucas had muttered with a puzzled look, eyes wide.

“I had to go to the dentist to take my braces off. Yeah.” Seungmin stated again. “So whatever you meant by ‘being an ignoring bitch this morning’, I know nothing about it.”

And then someone next to them had chimed in. “You’re talking about Henry and what happened this morning with—“

“Yeah. Why?” Seungmin had interrupted, frowning slightly.

“There’s a video of it.”

Run, run, run.

The look in your eyes when you spoke with Henry. Your smug smile when you caught him by surprise.

Your poem.

His eyes had widened when Henry started reading it in the video.

Was it…?

Could it…?

Could it really be for him?

He wanted needed to find out.

He needed to find you.

“Watch where you’re going!” A man grunted at him, and Seungmin quickly apologized, running off.

Run, run, run.

He knew where you lived just because of Friday, when you had asked him if he could head towards your house with you, still a bit scared from what had happened. He accepted in a heartbeat, reassuring you that it was fine with a million smiles.

His hand had never left yours. Your touch, colder than his, had something so adicting to it that he didn’t want to let go.

Time seemed to pass slowlier when he recognized your neighbourhood. He was about to ring on your floor, but then, your silhouette got out of the elevators, and you both blinked at each other, staring through the glass door.

You opened it slowly, approaching him.

The look in your eyes was different than what Seungmin was used to.

It wasn’t similar to how you had looked at him ever since the school year started, with a shimmer of anger that turned your cheeks pink. Or how you had looked at him that afternoon in the back of the school bus, pupils dark and lips red and slightly swollen from kissing. Or how your eyes glowed in hope and comfort that Friday night.

It was different. He wanted to savour it. He wanted to see every detail of it.

He walked towards you and cradled your face in his hands.

“Wait.” He muttered in a whisper, taking off his glasses in a movement that to you felt almost enticing.

“What is it?” You whispered back.

He blinked at you as he cleaned his glasses with the hem of his shirt.

“You’re fucking blurry.” He snickered softly, with a sheepish smile that tinted his cheeks pink.

You giggled.

He settled his glasses back in place, and smiled when your image made sense before him.

“Better.” He muttered.

“Seungmin, I—“

But you stopped speaking when his lips crashed against yours.

There it was. He tasted sweet like how hot chocolate tastes in a rainy day. You smiled at your discovery, wanting to taste it for hours.

He wanted to kiss you for days to come, even if there was a million things left for both of you to say.

“I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I wasn’t in school this morning.” Kiss. “But I saw a video of it.” Kiss. “And I needed to—“

You giggled, taking his glasses and settling them on the top of his head.

“We can do the talking later.” You smiled, your cheeks red as your hands grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Are you sure?” He gulped, blushing too as he mumbled.

“Yeah.” You smiled even more. “I’d rather do the kissing now.”

You'd never know what happened with his letter. But considering where that had lead you, maybe it wasn't totally bad that the wind had carried it out the window.

[☆★🌷★☆]

~Kats, who, believe it or not, took the text argument in the beginning from an old school groupchat (yes i was the target akbdksbdks idk why lol, but no, i did not have an enemies2lovers :( lmao)

HAPPY FUCKING VALENTINES DAY!

TAGGING! (oh wow) @that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick @deadcrow-donteat @obyyyy @euphoric-univers @aslou @19marka @daisyjihannie @im-loco66 @coolbabydumplings @amarecerasus @sharonxdevi @han-to-my-minho @abbiespooks @moon0fthenight @koala-wonderland @hecrtful @hheesungsung @vampcharxter @kpopandblunts @daisy-dont-play @skz-lover21 @skyl1nninie @lunathewonyoungstan @5starlee @pchyyhoe @4ln-stay8 @michelle4eve (bolded and/or purple means it won’t let me tag you, pookies! please check your blog’s privacy settings <3)

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girl8890 · 2 years

Text

JK | Cabin in The Woods

word count: 6.7k

Summary: Everyone knows to stay out of the forest, but through a dare you ventured in… you just never came out. Meeting a wolf that says he needs you to survive, and you have no one else to give your love to but the animal that uses you every night.

Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Genre: yandere, supernatural!au, horror!au, smut, angst, some fluff (if you squint)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: bullying, disfiguration of body parts, breaking of bone, mate bonding, possessiveness, implied murder, blood, eating of people & living animals, implied/attempt at rape/non-con, vaginal sex, cream pie, cock warming, pussy sniffing & kissing, jk is horny for reader 99% of the time, kinda stockholm syndrome-ish, easily manipulated reader, dom!jk, sub!reader, lonely!reader

A/N: The best way I can explain this fic is that jk has actual wolf tendencies. He’s more wolf than man, so you’ll find that he relates more to a wolf in this fic than to his human half. I had a dream about this, probably should see a therapist, but here we’re instead! I hope you enjoy, my yandere lovers! 😌

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

You don’t know why you agreed to the dare. It was stupid to even think nothing would happen to you.

All you wanted was to make some friends, so when some people in your hometown asked you to come to their party, you were all for it. When you got to said party, it wasn’t what you were expecting. Everyone’s eyes were on you, and the peer pressure was to the max. Somehow a game of truth of dare started, and now your here—alone in the woods because you were one of the few daring people at that party.

You weren’t daring, though, and the dare wasn’t random. It was pointed at you by a couple of college kids that wanted to pick on the loner girl. You realized this after the hour in the haunted forest definitely went by, and no one came to save you.

North became south, and west became east. Any direction you pointed yourself in, you would find yourself trailing deeper and deeper into the woods where too many tourists and even a few locals never came out of.

You swore the forest was even playing tricks on you. Swearing that each tree looked the same, and the fog got thicker with each step you took. You didn’t stop your hurried walking, to try and get out of the forest as quickly as possible, until you heard a snap of a twig from behind you. Slowly turning your head, something you never thought in your twenty-two years of life you would ever see was standing right above you on a rock.

It was a wolf.

Not just any wolf. A snarling, big, yellow eyed, and black furred scary looking wolf that still had animal carcass from an earlier dinner hanging out of its mouth. And you had a feeling it wanted you for desert. You, for some reason, thought if you stayed still that it wouldn’t see you. Like all the movies about predators not being able to see their prey if it stayed still. Well, you very quickly realized this is not Jurassic Park and the wolf lunged at you.

You screamed, sliding somehow just out of the way from the wolfs attack, and then booked it. Running as fast as you can, and screaming as loud as you can. You claimed this day to be the worst one of your life because even as you ran like hell, the wolf still followed closely behind. Four big paws hitting the ground way faster then your two feet were.

You think you may have run a mile that day just trying to get away from the wolf. When you finally decided to look back and see the beast, you were finally able to skid to a stop when you see it’s not behind you. You breathe out a sigh of relief… but that relief didn’t last long.

Just as you turn back around, the same beast as before springs out of the shadows and tackles you to the ground. The beast hunted you. It made you think it left and had you let your guard down. Stupid mistake because now your done for.

The beast growled in your face, and pinned your entire body to the ground. It’s sharp, huge teeth dripping with drool right on your face. This was it. This was going to be the end of your life, and you were going to be apart of the many that ventured into this forest and never came out.

Tears streamed down your face, and because you felt desperate you even begged the wild animal. “Please… I-I’m not ready to die.”

In that moment, you thought you even heard the wolf laugh. A heavy chuckle coming from its snot. But in that moment, when the beast was laughing at your pathetic pleads, it sniffed the air around you and then it’s pupils dilated. The wolf inhaled again, this time pressing its snout right against your neck, and making you shake with fear when you thought it was going to bite you.

There was a moment of silence, the wolf keeping its nose against your neck, and then it retracted it’s snout away from you. Everything happened so fast after that…

The sound of bone crunching was the first thing you heard, but it wasn’t your own. The creature above you backed away a messily bit, and it was only because the head of it was melting away. It’s then you realize it’s body was transforming into something you’ve never seen before. Body parts coming out of its skin, and constant sounds of broken bones snapping as each piece of the wolfs limbs melted away into one of… something else.

When the first limb that was being created out of the wolf became whole, you realize it was one of a persons. A man’s hand attached to a whole arm as each piece of him clicked together. It was a gruesome and slow process to watch. One that would of had you gagging if you weren’t so focused on the once wolf turning into a man.

When each bone finally clicked in place, a man that would of had you swooning by his looks alone any other day was kneeling above you. His hair was close to hitting his shoulders, and to the opposite of what you would expect from a creature like him, his skin was smooth to the touch except a singular small mole under his lip. His lips were pink, chapped, but plump and they were above a jaw line that most women would compliment as being sculpted from the gods.

It’s then, as more silence stretches on and you’re now staring into two brown eyes that were once yellow, that you put the pieces together of what creature us standing before you. Of what creature—this very muscular, and very naked, creature of a man has been doing in these woods too. Making countless people disappear, and having too many people afraid to even step foot into these wood because of it. Because of him.

“Werewolf,” You say at the same time the beast above you says, “Mate.”

And that was the day your life changed forever.

———

Nobody missed you. Nobody went out searching for you. You assumed everyone at the party thought you died, so that was the end of loner girl y/n. Probably didn’t even have a memorial like all the other forest disappearances.

You had no parents to worry about you. Your mom died over a year ago from complications, and eventually your father died soon after from a broken heart. No siblings or other close relatives to wonder about you, so you were stuck. Stuck in the woods with the only person—being, wolf, whatever—that actually showed he… cared?

You’ve be in a small cabin in the woods with him for three months now. It was a cabin that if an people passed by—not that they would venture in to the woods or get that close to begin with—wouldn’t think twice about it being abandoned and nothing worth exploring. But on the inside was everything a girl like you needed.

A somehow working bathroom, a small kitchen right in front of the door, and a queen sized bed (that’s more of a mattress on top of a old bed holder) that was pushed into the corner of the small cabin. With a blanket and two pillows on top of it. One pillow that ironically had a picture of a wolf sewed into the fabric of the pillow case. Everything a girl like you needed to survive was in this small space.

And everything the werwolf needed, Jungkook you found out his name was the day you met him, was you and what was in the last door of the cabin. The door that opened up to a set of steep stairs, and held nothing but a steal cage in the middle. That’s where he held you the first week you stayed here. Trapped and forced to endorse his ritual of claiming you as his. Teaching you how to be the perfect little submissive human to his dominate wolf.

He never took you as a an actual wolf luckily, but he did take you that first meeting in the woods. On the ground, with your clothes ripped apart, and you crying and screaming for him to stop. It wasn’t until he bit into your neck, forever claiming you as his mate, that it felt like your whole world shifted.

Suddenly it was like you could do nothing but submit to him. You still had resolve, though. And that’s why he kept you in the cage for so long. A week may not seem like much, but it did for you. Especially when he—allegedly—left you down there at night. He didn’t let you out until you promised never to leave, and after three months you’re still here.

You’re currently washing a dish in the small sink in the kitchen. You just ate lunch of what you assumed was rabbit, Jungkook being the one to hunt for yours and his food, and once your done with cleaning it you put it on a towel to dry. You look up from the sink at the same time Jungkook as a wolf came into view of the small window in the kitchen above the sink. You can see he’s holding in his mouth what looks to be a deer, and you grimace as you think about how he killed it.

You open the cabins front door when he gets close enough to the house, and move off to the side so the big wolf can squeeze himself into the house. Shutting the door behind him, he came in into the kitchen area and dropped the dead deer on the floor. You crotch onto the floor in front of what you presume to be dinner, and you aren’t scared of the wolf’s fangs as he continues to heave out breathes next to you.

You haven’t been scared of his wolf for a long time.

“Poor Bambi,” You say as you pet the deers snout. Earning a growl from Jungkook as you touch the dead deer so tenderly, and then he pushes his own snout in between your hand and the deer so you can then pet him. “Stupid wolf.”

You smile as the wolf laughs. A husky chuckle of a noise you remember used to confuse you when you heard it, but now you know it as him laughing in wolf form.

He then backs away from your hand after a few scratches, and you look away as he begins to transform into the man you were forced to love. The only person you love.

The sound of broken bone came from your right, but it wasn’t until you feel a human nose against you cheek that you turn to see a hairless faced Jungkook. His hair is still a bit long, but you convinced him to cut it a little shorter and even chop a part of it completely off. Making it look like he had a buzzed portion of a quarter of his hair. He’s currently naked, but you ignore that fact. Being very used to his naked form by now.

“Hello stupid wolf,” You say in greeting with a small smile, and you watch his own smile twitch up for a second. He then pushes his face forward, and you let your eyes drift shut when you know he’s about to take in your smell. Something he always does when going into human form and being in front of you.

He first presses his nose back onto your cheek, it wiggling a little as it touches you. Then he moves his nose to your own, and glides it next over your two eyes. Sniffing and inhaling every few seconds. It isn’t until he goes to your lips that you allow your eyes to open half-lidded.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but he senses you staring at him so he opens his own eyes. Two pools of brown looking back at you as he slowly presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you know his eyes are still open. It’s a small, barely any pressure type of kiss and you always think he’s doing it more for you then for him. He knows he doesn’t need to kiss you to earn your love, to own you, but he kisses you anyway.

After a moment of the soft pressure of his kiss to you, he detaches from your lips. You flutter your eyes open, and you hear a quiet growl rumble from his chest. Making your eyes flicker down to where you believe it sounded from.

“Hello… Y/n,” Jungkook says with a broken up voice. You think he’s never talked in his human form until he met you. At least not for a long time, so hearing his voice now is a rarity but you can’t help yourself and smile at him as he practices speaking.

“Yes, I’m y/n.” You press your hand to your chest. “And your Jungkook.” And then you press that same hand onto Jungkook’s naked chest right above his slowly beating heart.

You watch the corner of his lips twitch up again into a small smile, and you wonder what it would look like for him to actually smile. With teeth and all.

“Yes,” Jungkook says simply as he nods at you. He then takes his face away from so close to you, and aims his sights on the bite mark he left on you during the first day you met. You softly gasp when you feel his finger touch the surface of your neck. Gliding his fingers around the jagged teeth marks that will never go away. He then says with a mouth full of clenched sharp teeth, “Mine.”

And you’re his. He’s drilled it enough into your mind and body that you’re his. That he needs you to survive because a wolf without his mate is futile. Just like how your father died without your mother, Jungkook would die without you.

He may have brought up the situation in parts, and started this relationship in a terrible way, but he’s been alone and stuck in his wolf for a very long time. He didn’t know what “no” meant, and everything humans learned about consent and taking things slow into a relationship was nonexistent to him. So, he did what he does best when he wants something, he took it. Took you right there on the forest floor, and came deep inside you as he bit against your neck hard. Claiming you to him and his wolf forever.

Jungkook then slowly departs his finger from your neck, and wraps his arms around your arms and back. Your arms are sandwiched in between the two of you, and you’ve come to learn he likes to hold you this way. Having you safely protected in his arms, and he can easily bring his whole body on top of you so he can scent all of you at once. You pull your legs to your chest, knowing he’s going to scoop them up after he’s done sniffing your hair.

With one last whiff of your hair, he rubs his nose on top of your head. He then, just like you thought, scoops your legs up with one arm and supports your back with the other. Picking you up bridal style, and looking down at you as he caries you to the bed.

Your cradled and squished against him the whole ten steps there, but the whole way feels so safe. You would think a wolf like him that has such animal tendencies would be the worst place for you to be, but overtime you recognized it as the safest place for you. No one could touch you as long as your with him.

But that just means the big bad wolf would always have the ability to touch you.

———

Some time later, when your clothes are stripped off of you and your stomach is being pressed against the mattress, Jungkook drives his cock roughly into you from behind. It’s a rough, hard, and rocky affair every night. That’s right, every night.

The only times he doesn’t take you is when you’re on your period, and that’s because he hates the smell of blood on you. Keeping his distance and staying in wolf form the whole week, so he doesn’t temp himself in his human form.

Your hands are holding onto the front of the mattress in a tight grip, and his hands are clamped on top of yours as he continues to drive into you on repeat. Your moaning so loud it sounds like a scream, and each time you feel his hips press against you to go as deep inside you as possible you arch your back as a quivering sensation goes off in your stomach. Indicating you’re going to cum for the first time that night soon.

Jungkook grunts above you in a animistic way when he feels your pussy clench around his length. Making the teeth of his wolf elongate when his peek gets closer. His cock continues to drill into you at a fast pace as he brings his mouth down onto your neck. He doesn’t bite you, but he does apply a soft pressure of his teeth onto the bite mark he left there three months ago.

He doesn’t need to bite because he knows you know he already owns you. He owns your body, and he knows it so well by now that he doesn’t need to repeat the hurtful mark again. Just laying the sharp teeth across the ridges is enough of a reminder to what you are to him.

With a few more thrusts, banging his hips against your ass, your cumming along side him as he groans into your neck and you moan into the mattress. You lay there, heavy breathing going off from the both of you as your highs decrease. Jungkook takes his teeth off of you and then licks the surface of your neck. A little blood trickling down it since his orgasm was so harsh he bit down on you a little.

When he’s done cleaning your neck, whimpering a little to say sorry for making you bleed, he flips you over without pulling out of you and starts up his thrusts again. Caging your head and arms underneath him, with his arms holding himself above you next to your head. It’s like he didn’t just cum and reck your whole head space as he begins fucking you again. You expected this, though. It’s never just one round, not even two!

He continues to fuck you over and over again, placing you in new positions that keep you surrounded by his body after each time he cums deep within your clenching walls. Not a single time he’ll speak, either. Only you moaning and crying out your pleasure can be heard aside from his occasional grunt as he finishes inside of you. But the faces he makes are enough to have your mind going dirty besides doing the act itself.

When you get a chance to see his face, it’s so sexy it makes you clench around him. His mouth will be wide open in bliss, and his eyes squeezed shut. It looks like he can’t take how good you feel, but he still chases the feeling every time. Wanting to make you cum just as much as he wants to cum.

He fucks you so many times that it gets to the point tonight that you lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and as he was placing you sideways to thrust into you again you felt yourself drift into unconsciousness.

———

Waking up was a start. The sun was blaring from outside the window, and you blink your eyes open to see it. Your body wasn’t sore since it’s gotten used to how rough he is on you over the months you’ve been here, and you look down to see his arms wrapped around your naked middle. You bite your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way you could get out of his hold without waking the softly snoring Jungkook behind you.

As you wiggle in his grasp, staring to remove yourself from him gently, you realize there was no way to get up without him noticing. And that was because he’s still inside you. Still hard too, which was unexpected. You turn slightly around to see the handsome wolfs face, looking innocent as ever as he sleeps.

Softly, you reach out and cup his cheek with your hand. Trying to coax him awake with a few rubs of your palm. Instead of waking up, though, he rubs his face into your hand like a puppy. Wanting you to continue what you’re doing even as he sleeps. You hold back your laughter as Jungkook begs for your rubs, but you drop your hand altogether.

Instead of waking up from the lack of rubs, his face starts trying to find where the amazing sensation went. It isn’t until his nose gets buried in your hair, him sniffing up a big whiff of your small and gripping you a little tighter in his grasp, that he blinks his eyes open.

He pulls his face out of your hair, looking down at you like he didn’t realize it was for a second, but then the corners of his mouth are switching up when he sees it’s you he’s holding.

“Goodmorning,” You whisper to him with a smile. He hums his own version of saying good morning, then he wraps his other arm around your middle and pulls you flush again him.

You cry out when his cock that’s still inside you impalas you deeper, and then he letting go you altogether when he hears your cry. He must of not noticed he was inside you until now, gently taking his slowly softening cock out of you, and he looks at you frantic when he thinks he hurt you. Hovering his hands above your arms and looking strained as he tries to push out the word, “Hurt?”

You swallow, pulling yourself together as the rough pain to your dry pussy lessens, and you shake your head and smile again at him. “Nope, just surprised me.”

He looks at you unconvinced, and because he doesn’t know what boundaries mean, he pulls your legs apart and inspects you himself.

“Jungkook!” You scream as you try to cover your core from him. He’s scene it plenty of times, but besides to aim his cock at you he’s never directly looked at it before. He still pulls your hands away from you, pinning them against your one leg as he pulls your legs wide apart. Your beat red in the face and chest now as he just stares at your core so closely. “S-stop it.”

He looks up at you, and his eyes say more then any words can. Matching with his pointed frown, his big doe eyes look up at you saddened. Even though he’s been rough with you many times in the past, using you every night for his own pleasure even if he coaxes your own in the process, he hates the thought of you hurt. That’s also why he hates you bleeding because blood means hurting, and hurting means pain, which should never involve itself with his mate.

Looking back down at you pussy, he slowly places a singular kiss onto your slit. You clench your eyes shut at the press of his lips on you. And then your full on grunting when you feel and hear him smell your pussy up close. You know it’s just him saying “I’m sorry I hurt you,” since you taught him kisses could help when someone is hurt, and the smelling is so he can check that you’re not bleeding. But out of all things, your pussy should not be getting kissed and smelt this way!

After a few more embarrassed wiggles from you, Jungkook finally clears that you’re okay and lets you go. You pout at the wolf that looks confused at why you’re upset, and you roll out of bed. As you start getting changed, you hear the cracking of bone behind you. Within seconds Jungkook is back in his wolf form, and pressing his snout against your clothed back.

You sigh, turning around and looking down at the wolf who’s staring up at you so apologetically, and you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah you stupid wolf.”

You pet him in between the ears, now seeing a smile on the wolfs face and you return a human smile of your own. One with a lot less drool. Then you head for the door, stopping when you realize the deer from last night is still on the ground from last night and look an accusing eye at the beast who brought it here. Jungkook crocks his wolf head at you, not understanding the look you’re sending him.

“Did you really just leave that thing on the floor?” He looks to where you’re pointing, and his ears perk up. Walking up to the fly swarming carcass, instead of throwing it away or putting it in the fridge, he starts to eat it whole.

You grimace as you watch him a second too long, never getting use to seeing that happen in front of you, and then you head out the cabin to start your day.

Your day usually consists of tending to the small garden behind the cabin. It’s nothing incredible, but enough that you won’t be eating dead deer or rabbit everyday. A few tomatoes and cucumbers that you were able to syphon from plants near by, and TaDa! Your own personal garden.

Besides this garden, you don’t usually stray too far from the cabin. For one, even though the monster that haunts these woods lives with you, you’re too scared to find out what else could be found lurking in these woods. And two, anytime you accidentally travel too far from it, weather it be just to walk around or to try and find more seeds to grow, a huffing wolf named Jungkook will come and coax you back to the cabin. There’s been times he’s legit dragged you by your shirt to get home, but that’s just because you were so close to finding new seeds and you didn’t want to leave yet.

You know it’s all out of protection—and maybe still out of fear that you may leave him—but he likes having you close by enough to smell you. His wolf nose being able to track anything from a mile away, so that’s how far around the cabin you’re allowed to go before he loses scent of you. Stopping your wondering just before your scent crosses over that mile mark.

Today, after you put the veggies inside the fridge, you take one of the books that Jungkook “found” for you and go walking into the woods to find a place for you to sit. Just before you cross the tree line, you see on the opposite side of the clearing you’re in that Jungkook is walking into the woods too. Probably to go on a hunt or scoot the area even.

You walk for about a minute into the woods before you find a rock and a tree you can sit, and lean against. Opening up your book, you frown when see the small pool of blood on the title page. You try to ignore how it most likely got there, and keep flipping pages until you find the first page.

It’s just when you get to chapter two, that you hear a twig snap close by. You grin at the knowledge that it’s most likely Jungkook, and call out, “Come to read with me, stupid wolf?”

“No, but I would definitely like to do more then just read with you.”

You gasp, jumping up from your spot and dropping your book on the ground in the process when you hear a human voice that’s most definitely not Jungkook’s. It’s a man with long brown hair, a beard thats unkept, and one of his eyes looks screwed shut from loss of sight.

Your body starts shaking immediately. Since you’ve got here, you haven’t seen a single human. You always thought no humans were stupid enough to wonder into these woods—unlike you, but you were lucky enough to be the monsters mate and not die. You know not a single person is going to be that lucky if they come across a hungry Jungkook. Or just him in general!

“I-I, what are you doing here?”

The man raises a fluffy eyebrow at you, and you continue to stare at him wide eyed. “I just thought I would wonder these woods that so many claims is haunted. I just didn’t think I would find myself such a sexy specimen like yourself in here too.”

You swallow thickly at his sultry words, backing up from him as he starts to move forward. “Tell me, girly. Why are you out here all by yourself?”

“I-I’m with my boyfriend.” Your referring to Jungkook, but if this man some how got past him there’s no way he can save you if this man tries something. You watched Jungkook go the opposite way of you, so you have no idea how long it would take for him to rescue you even if you scream.

The man looks both ways, stopping in his tracks with you. “Don’t see no boyfriend.” The closed lip smile on the man’s face disappears. “But I am hungry.”

You open your eyes wide, and clutch onto the skirt of your dress. You look all around the area your in, thinking up the best route to get away from this man. “I-I don’t have any food. So you should p-probably go looking somewhere else.”

The man laughs, showing his blackened teeth as he does, and then he looks at you with a pair of disgusting eyes that only mean one thing. “Oh, darling… that’s not what I’m hungry for.”

Right when his words register to you, you run as fast as you can in the direction of the cabin. Your not far from it, and you can only hope that maybe Jungkook stopped his travels early and came home. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you’re suddenly aware of what this chase of cat and mouse reminds you of. The difference between that day with Jungkook and you and right now is that you thought Jungnkook was going to eat you. While the disgusting and vile man behind you doesn’t want to actually eat you, but taint and ruin your body. Ruin your soul, even.

You push forward as you spot the clearing up ahead. Dodging tree branch’s and jumping over rocks. Just when you’re about to step foot into the clearing of the cabin, a heavy body pins you to the ground. You cry out as the man that was chasing yous heavy weight falls on top of you. Screaming once again when you feel a hard erection press against your ass through his jeans.

He’s not as big as Jungkook—not that that was your main concern—but just knowing it’s there and not Jungkook’s has you starting to cry already.

“Oh, shut the fuck up you whore!” The man above you yells. Maneuvering himself so he can pin your arms against your back with his knee, and you hear the start of him unbuckling his pants and belt.

You think your done for. That you’re about to be ruined beyond repair from the man above you, and never want to face Jungkook again. Even though Jungkook did the same to you once all those months ago, there was still pleasure for you being brought to the table. It wasn’t selfish, but a need for him to mate you. This man, on the other hand, won’t give a shit if you like it and wants to use you because your just there. Not because he loves you, or wants to hold you in his arms forever. Keeping you safe and making sure you’re never in pain.

This man wants to bring you pain, and you shut your eyes and cry out one last time before you think you’re about to be ruined forever. “Jungkook, help me!”

It happens so fast after that… but not what your thinking.

One second the man is pushing up your dress to reveal yourself to him, and the next he’s being ripped off of you. It doesn’t register to you that you’re no longer being pinned to the ground until you start to hear screaming, growling, and the sound of bones breaking. Breathing heavily against the ground, you stay completely still until the screams stop out of no where and the smell of blood is in the air.

You blink back your tears that are still falling, and on shaking arms you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Before you could be brave enough to stand up entirely, a hand is being pressed into your back. You jump away from the hand and turn around to see a bloodied face Jungkook crouching in front of you.

Although your eyes are being blurred with tears, you can see his extremely upset face as he takes in your form. You don’t waste any time. You leap into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He makes a ‘Uph’ sound and stubbles back, but he catches you nonetheless. He’s always there to catch you.

Jungkook buries his face into your neck to smell you, while your face is against his neck to cry into. He growls against your neck when his nose processes the now dead’s man smell on you. You let him scent mark you, and the whole times he’s keeping you strapped to him. Not letting go of you for a single second.

By the time he’s down scenting you, and your crying has simmered down a little, you pull your face out of his neck to face him. The same deep frown and saddened eyes look at you, and you know it’s because of what almost transpired a few moments ago.

He swallows, pushing out a, “Hurt…?” You open your mouth to say no, because even though it scared you the man didn’t hurt you exactly. But then Jungkook is pushing out more words, “Try. To… Hurt. You?”

Your lip wobbles, and you can’t speak. Feeling your chest crumble from knowing the answer to his question is not positive, and instead of you speaking you nod your head since it’s too hard to speak right now.

Jungkook’s upset frown turns into an expression you haven’t seen yet on him. You know what he looks when he’s happy (flick up of the corners of his mouth), and when he’s sad (deep frown and drooping eyes), but this is different… this Jungkook is angry.

His sharp wolf teeth extend from his gums, and the corners of his eyes wrinkle and twitch as he thinks about what that man would have done to you. If it wasn’t for Jungkook being back on his way to the cabin at that second, it would have been too late. The man’s smell didn’t even register to him when Jungkook did an air check to smell where you were. All he smelt was something dirty, and he registered that as the part of the woods you were in smelling weird.

Never again. Never again will he ignore weird smells around you, or think your alright even if something seems off. He’ll drop everything for you. Even if he really wants to go claw some more at the dead man’s body right now, he picks you up as you’re now, wrapped around his body, and starts carrying you in the direction of the cabin.

You keep your face against Jungkook’s shoulder the entire time. Not letting go even after he puts you on the bed. You don’t remember how you got here, or even him closing the door behind you, but once your in bed and safe you still don’t let him go of him. And Jungkook is okay with that.

He puts you against the wall, making sure your caged in between his body and the wall so nothing can harm you. Even if someone were to look inside the cabin right now, all they would see is Jungkook’s naked back and ass.

Trying to be a good mate, he hums what sounds like a lullaby as he runs his sharps nails up and down your clothed back. When you finally begin to relax, calmly pulling your arms off of him so they can be sandwiched in between the two of you, you whisper a quiet, “Thank you.”

Jungkook stops humming, and stops rubbing your back. Looking down at your shameful looking face with wide eyes.

“Why?” He asks.

“Why, thank you?” He nods his head pointedly. “For saving me.”

Jungkook won’t take that. He won’t take a thank you for this. Your his mate, and he wasn’t there to protect you. He doesn’t deserve your thank yous or even you at this point. Pulling your face out of his chest with his two hands, he stares into your eyes as he tries to communicate how he feels. “No. No, thank yous. Don’t… Deserve… Thank yous. Or… You.”

Now it’s your turn to look at him wide eyed. You grab onto his hands on your face and shake your head. “What are you talking about? Yes, you do. You deserve me because I’m your mate.”

Jungkook’s shakes his head. “Not enough.”

Your lips part, and you see the sadness in Jungkook’s eyes as his hands fall off your face. This is the first time he said something without breaking the words apart, and out of all things it was him saying he’s not enough for you. Well now, your not going to take that.

You grab onto his face, making him face you and feel a little pleased with yourself when you see a surprised look on his face. You pull his face forward and smash your lips against his. He’s surprised, at first, but then he’s groaning into your mouth and wrapping his arms around your middle again. You moan when you feel his length begin to grow against your thigh, moving it slightly to allow him some friction. He growls when you do that, and you detach your lips from his as you look at him determined to make him understand just how you feel about what he just said.

“You do deserve me, Jungkook. You deserve me because I’m your mate, and you’re mine. And I-… I love you so stop being stupid and just claim what’s yours already!”

Jungkook blinks, registers your words a couple times in his head, and repeats, “Mate?”

You roll your eyes and say, “Yes!”

“Love. Me?”

You swallow, taking a moment of hesitation but then replying again, “Yes.”

Then that’s all Jungkook needs to be convinced. He smashes his lips against yours the same way you did, and you’re moaning up a storm by the time he rolls you underneath him. You take your clothing off as fast as your arms can do it, and then Jungkook is thrusting into you the second your pussy is presented to him.

Both of you making noises of pleasure as he enters you, stretching and rubbing at your walls just the way you like it as he roughly pounds against your core. As always, Jungkook fucks you rough and hard, but right now you need it. You need it just as much as him, and when you both cum at the same time, you’re scratching at his back to go another round… and another… and another.

As always, you lose count of how many rounds you both did, but this time you’re both out of breathe by the time you both decide to stop. His cum is leaking from you because you’re so filled to the brim with his seed, and you revel in it. Feeling his cum drip on your leg, and feeling his soft lips peeper kiss your face as he sandwiches your body against his and the wall again.

You love it all! But most importantly, you love your mate.

And he loves you more than you could ever comprehend.

The End

3K notes · View notes

sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Text

✮ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦?, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | stass' new photo dump on instagram (plus imsg drama??)

♡ ─ warnings | nothing just some cussing, jack being a flirt and lukey being a simp LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | link to my taglist!

♡ ─ ev's notes | oooooo more drama???? again, PLSSSS SEND IN SOME THOUGHTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE.

back to navigation back to AU masterlist

stasszegras ann arbor, michigan

Liked by trevorzegras, briesbagels, jackhughes and 10,013 more

stasszegras | live laugh love barcelona (sry jude bellingham) tagged: briesbagels, friend1, pchandler68, chloegrace333 octber 12th, 2022

View all 3,971 comments

briesbagels | is this a soft launch parker??

↳ pchandler98 no it is not.

↳ chloegrace333 oh okay...

↳ trevorzegras bro has absolutely 0 game HELP

↳ stasszegras why is bro copying me?? since when do u say HELP

↳ pchandler68 shut up trevor

umichwsoccer | thats our girl🫡

↳ stasszegras 😤

nolan_moyle | future manager supports barcelona!!!!!!!! (whatever the hell that means)

↳ stasszegras ur funny but no, also barcelona is a club

↳ nolan_moyle wdym club

↳ trevorzegras bros gotten hit too many times in the head by a puck

↳ stasszegras this is why im not managering the hockey team

jackhughes | whos jude bellingham??? why are you sorry????

↳ stasszegras sigh...

↳ trevorzegras its her husband... duh

↳ jackhughes UR MARRIED???

↳ briesbagels 🥴🥴

fan01 | can anyone tell me if jack and her are actually dating?

↳ fan02 i think everyone is just being weird af they're just friends

↳ fan03 i personally think shes dating luke cus it makes more sense

↳ fan01 help she wants the entire family

↳ fan02 can u blame her?????? 🤭🤭

lhughes_06 | photo creds for the last pic🤑

↳ pchandler68 BRUHHHHHHHHHH

↳ lhughes_06 its the rizzler guys 😌

↳ stasszegras FUCK NO HES NOT....... HES 5'8???

↳ jackhughes i'm 5'11 if that helps 🥰

↳ trevorzegras hey what does rizz have to do with height??? umm... 🥸

↳ lhughes_06 im 6'3 if that helps 😮‍💨😮‍💨

↳ stasszegras ... 🥰🥰 oh nothing, trev!!!

↳ briesbagels help 😶😶

↳ jackhughes ???????

avazegras | okay miss heartbreaker 😮‍💨😮‍💨 i see u

↳ trevorzegras hey whats that supposed to mean??

↳ griffinzegras hey i hold the title of heartbreaker of the family.... so this is kinda awkward...

↳ stasszegras STFU AVA UR NOT HELPING AT ALL😭😭😭

↳ trevorzegras did i miss a chapter???????

↳ lhughes_06 yea u did [deleted]

↳ griffinzegras ... damn 💀💀💀

iMessages

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

hi soo why did u comment and then delete that???

luke 🥸🥸

wdym????

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

luke u know what i mean, i saw the comment

luke 🥸🥸

i was just joking around but i thought it may come off weird so i deleted it

luke 🥸🥸

sorry, stass

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

it's fine its just if u have a problem i'd rather u just text me then comment on my post 😭😭

luke 🥸🥸

noted

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

its fine lukey, im sorry about the party if i came off to harsh or anything. i just miss our friendship before that stupid trip

luke 🥸🥸

no I'M sorry, i shouldn't keep bringing it up. and its back to normal, i promise 🫶🏼🫶🏼

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

ur the best luke, thank you 🫡 and between us, ur my fav hughes rn read 11:37

mini z ✊🏼💅🏻

you screenshotted that didn't u

luke 🥸🥸

YUPPPPPP😗😗😇😇

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

171 notes · View notes

gay-wh0re-slut · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiii THERE!!!!!!!!!

I love love loveeeeee everything your writing and would like to that the opportunity to thank you so much for your services! 🫡

I have a request if that’s okay…

Rhea x Fem Reader having had a fling now and then nothing serious besides a kiss or two. Reader has a toxic situationship she keeps going back to where the guy hurts her constantly as in not being faithful, but they still have make up smex in a constant cycle.

Rhea’s finds out about all of this through friends of a friend type situation. She confronts Reader one day to make you leave him. Reader basically confronts that she stays with him cuz he’s a man and she likes that masculine energy for security but there are hardly any good men left so she won’t bother leaving him in search of a new one. Rhea asks like what about a woman? and Reader laughs and says a woman can’t give her what a man can sexually. LOL

Rhea is upsets but sees the challenge..

Idk where I am going with this.. PLEASE, MAY WE GET HUGE STRAP ENERGY DOM RHEA PLEASE 🤭

Thank you so much❤️‍🔥

hehehe you’re welcome soldier🫡

but oh shit oh fuck this is so good…damn i have no words to describe how i feel rn this is crazy good thank you for the request seriously.

after writing: this is soooo incredibly long i’m sorry so get comfy haha

Teacher

rhea x fem!reader

content: talks of a toxic relationship before getting down and dirty with Mrs. Hot Goth Wrestler with a skilled tongue, good fingers and huge strap 😌

“We have to stop doing this,” she says out of breath.

“Yees,” you moan, “but not now.”

The two of you were in a one stall bathroom backstage, away from everyone. Rhea was feeling you up as she went back to kissing you roughly. Her hand travelled down to the zipper on your pants but you stopped her.

“Oh come on,” she tried to seduce you back into it.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you pushed her away a bit, “I’m sorry,” you wiped your mouth.

Her whole aura changed when you broke the kiss but she didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do. She didn’t say anything which made you feel worse than you already did.

“I’ll uh… text you later,” you fixed your shirt that she had roughed up.

“Yeah,” she stepped out of your way.

You walked out of the bathroom hanging your head, feeling horrible.

Several months have passed and you are back with your ex, but you’ve been on and off the whole time. You swore you would never date a cheater but when it was good, it was so good. He treated you like a queen by giving you flowers all the time, setting up random dates and the sex was amazing. He worked you out better than anyone else and he knew it too and held it over your head.

It’s only been one time that he’s gone behind your back. You caught him sending pics to “The Pizza Palace”, so you screamed and yelled and cried then left him for a good few weeks before he came crawling back to you.

Your friends begged you not to go back to him but you couldn’t get over how good he was in bed and you were afraid you wouldn’t find anyone else who could love you.

“I’m so sorry baby, I promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry, I love you so so much. I was stupid and I couldn’t see that you were perfect for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so sorry,” he cried.

As soon as you accepted his apology you had ground rules: whenever you were suspicious of his texts, he had to let you look; his location was on at all times; and you needed to know his work schedule.

But once a cheater, always a cheater and somehow he found a way to cheat on you again. You had enough and finally cut ties with him for good, or so you thought.

“Baby please, I’m so sorry, I can’t live without you. You’re my baby, I need you, I won’t do it again,” and you ended up right back in his bed.

This went on for a couple months and Rhea had kept trying to meet up with you again, but you pushed her away. She had no clue what was going on behind closed doors but she was going to find out. So she asked a mutual friend of yours when they went to lunch.

“You didn’t know?”

“She never told me anything,” the wrestler’s face was shocked.

“Oh yeah girl. He’s obviously mentally unwell himself and he’s taking it out on her by cheating and then asking to come back. The only reason she keeps going back is because ‘he’s a god in bed’, ” the friend air quoted.

“My god. No wonder why she’s been avoiding me,” Rhea was upset about the whole thing. Her mind was racing trying to figure out what she could do to help you out.

“I’ve been trying to tell her not to go back to him, but she won’t listen to me,” the friend said insinuating that Rhea could most definitely do something.

You haven’t talked to Rhea in a while, just some brief hello’s here and there as you passed her by. She kept her distance after you basically ghosted her but she couldn’t stay away for long.

“Hey,” Rhea texts you.

“Heyy,” you replied but you were on your couch a couple weeks after you got back with your ex, refreshing the maps for his location every second.

“Wanna get coffee tomorrow?” she asked not wanting to set off any alarming messages that she was basically having an intervention so she could get you alone.

“I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about you,” you weren’t lying, you did miss her but as a friend more than anything else.

“Perfect, 10 okay? At the one near your place?”

“I’ll be there!” you smiled at this small interaction but you couldn’t think about anything other than when he was going to get home.

The morning came and you were sat at a table in the coffee shop when you heard the door open for the australian.

“Hi!” she walked towards you displaying her arms for a hug.

You were engulfed by her muscles as she squeezed, “How’re you?” you questioned knowing something was up because she doesn’t usually hug you.

“Almost broke my clavicle last night but I’m good,” she chuckled rubbing on the bone, “how about you?”

“I’m doing okay,” you couldn’t lie to her, “there’s been some ups and downs but everything is good.”

“That’s okay,” she gestured towards the register.

Both of you waited in line talking about random things, ordered and went outside to sit.

“A little birdie told me you were back with your ex?” Rhea wasn’t one to dance around a subject.

You faked a laugh, “yeah,” was all you could say.

She took a sip, “and how’s that going?”

“It’s… good I guess. I’ve made some rules with him about his whereabouts and texts but nothing too crazy,” you took a drink to hide the awkwardness. You knew that she knew what had happened by the way she asked the question so you didn’t want to bore her with the details again.

“Yeah? Well that’s good, but you really should be trusting of your significant other you know,” her accent was calm but strong.

“I do!”

She threw you a look.

“To a point,” you cleared your throat, “He’s just so…” you balled your fists in front of her, “good.”

She rolled her eyes, “that shouldn’t be the reason that you should stay with him,” she took another sip to let that sit in the air, “there are other people that would kill to be with someone like you.”

“I know, I know. But I like having a man around you know? It makes me feel safer knowing that he’s there,” you smiled but your subconscious knew that it was a fake smile.

“Right,” her tone was stern, “have you even tried to find someone else?”

“Yeah!”

Another look.

“Okay fine, no I haven’t because every time I think I’m done with him and download a dating app, he comes crawling back.”

“Oh my god. You can’t keep going back to him,” her eyes were piercing into yours.

“I know, but he’s so kind and caring when he’s not in someone else’s bed,” you rolled your eyes as you sat back in your chair swirling the cup.

“Well,” Rhea sighed as she mirrored your movements, “have you…ever thought about being with a woman?” again, not one to beat around the bush.

“What!? No. I couldn’t. I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes, let alone another woman,” you said nervously.

“Have you even tried it?”

“Well no, but-”

“Exactly. So,” the tattooed legs crossed, “leave him and find you a woman,” she smirked.

You were taken aback at her bluntness but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Are you…asking me on a date Ripley?”

“Not unless you want me to. As if you haven’t thought about it,” she chuckled.

“No, I mean- I like you but not like that,” you waved away her response. Well, maybe you could be with a woman, you thought. No! No… well…

“Uh huh,” she let you work it out for yourself for a minute before she brought you back in, “let me know the next time he cheats,” she snarls as she stands. “I have to get back to training,” as she pushed her chair in.

You looked at her in confusion at the sudden change in energy, “okay,” you stand and walk over to give her another awkward hug.

Though it was weird, she accepted. Holding you in place, she whispered in your ear, “Trust me, I can treat you much better…in and out of the bedroom.”

You let go of the hug as she smirked at you before she walked away. You watched her put her cup on top of the trash can by the food trays before walking towards her car.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

Not even a week passed and he went and cheated on you once more. You cried and screamed again as you finally walked out of the house for the last time. You sat in your car fumbling for your keys as you tried to call Rhea, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you chanted between sobs.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniffed, “Can I come over?”

You could feel her smirking her devilish smile behind the phone knowing she was saying ‘told you so’ to herself, “C’mon,” she said.

You sped over there and banged on the door.

“Damn, chill, the door didn’t cheat on you,” she opened the door but you pushed past her.

“Hey woah,” she closed it, locking it behind her, “sorry about the joke but-”

You threw your wallet and keys on the kitchen table as she followed you in as you cut her off with your finger, “don’t say you told me so because I already know, but you got in my head and now I can get you out,” you dropped your hand.

She confidently leaned herself on the counter, “Well,” she shrugged as she gestured to herself smirking.

“Stop it,” you slammed yourself down on a chair.

“I’m kidding! I am sorry that he cheated on you though…again,” she tried to hide her giggles.

“Rhea please,” you wiped your nose with a napkin that was neatly stacked in the middle of the table, “I know I’m dumb for going back to him but when it was good it was good, okay? It wasn’t just the sex even though it may seem like it,” you broke down again.

She immediately stopped feeling proud of herself and started feeling sad for you. She hated seeing you hurt but she knew that she had to be the voice of reason right now. She sighed as she sat across from you, rubbing your arm, “is there anything you need me to do?”

“Beat his ass?” you joked.

She laughed, “I don’t need a lawsuit, but I would if I could.”

You blew your nose then crumpled up the napkin, “Remember what you said at the coffee shop?”

“When?” she knew exactly when.

“When you hugged me. Did you mean it?”

“Oh…yeah,” she said casually as her muscular arms crossed leaning back in the chair.

“Could you-”

“You wanna do it right now?” her eyes widened, “yeah, no. What we are gonna do,” she stood, “is run you a shower for as long as you need, to get him off of you, use whatever you want in there, and then,” she pulled you out of the chair walking you to her bathroom, “we can talk about what happens next.”

“Okay,” as you stepped inside the bathroom.

You were in there for probably 45 minutes. You stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, your hair dripping with some left over eyeliner stuck on your eyes, but you didn’t care too much.

“Clothes are on my bed,” she shouted from the kitchen before she walked out with two glasses of wine, setting them on the coffee table.

You changed into one of her big tshirts and sweatpants, then joined her on the couch, “Thank you,” you said weakly.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you. Now, did you think about anything specific you wanted to talk about?” she handed you the wine glass.

“Mm,” you took a sip, “I’m not sure how to word this,” you became embarrassed.

“Try your best,” her hand landed on your thigh as she turned to sit criss-cross facing you.

“How does it…work?” was the best you could do.

“How does what work?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

You bit your lips trying to muster up the courage but decided there was nothing left to lose, “sex…with a woman,” your face turned red.

“Oh!” she chuckled gently slapping her hand on your thigh, “the same as with a man but it’s more enjoyable and much hotter,” she winked.

“But there’s no-”

“There is, it’s just… silicone,” now Rhea’s face was a bit red but not for the same reason, “But there’s plenty other ways to get the job done.”

“Oh,” you blinked as your mind tried to figure it out.

She took another big sip, followed by a big sigh, “did you think of anything else? I know today’s been a lot so we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. And you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you need to, plenty of room,” she gave you a sincere smile.

“Not really,” you picked up your legs onto the couch and hugged them, “and thank you, we’ll see what happens,” you finish your wine.

“For sure,” she finishes hers too and gets off the couch. She gestured towards you silently asking if you want another, but you shook your head no, so she took your glass with her into the kitchen.

She came back out and sat back down in the same position.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

“Anytime,” her eyes were staring into yours, twinkling in the sunset light coming from the window. She looked so beautiful in this light, was it because she actually did or because you were heart broken, again, and you needed a distraction? Whatever it was, you made a quick decision.

So you cupped her face with your hand and gently kissed her. She easily fell into it but broke it off gently.

“Are you sure you want to start this? Because I won’t be able to stop,” she was sure of herself.

“Yes,” you tried to kiss her again but she backed away.

“Because I know you’re just doing this to feel as though you’re getting back at him. And I don’t want to be used as a distraction so I need to know if you actually want to go through with this,” she was calm but stern with her words, wanting to make sure you understood.

“Ever since, whatever we had back then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think he was the distraction from you,” the light bulb went off in your head as you said this, because it was true. Rhea always made you feel loved and appreciated no matter what.

Her mouth fell open slightly as she took in this new revelation, “Never thought of it that way,” she cleared her throat.

“So yes, I want to go through with this. Mainly because I want to see if you can keep your promise,” you smirked.

“Ah ah, I didn’t promise anything,” she pointed, “but I can definitely prove it.”

“Then prove it, teach me the ways,” you tried to think of anything else to say but it came out before you could stop it, “of lesbian sex.”

“Please don’t ever say that again,” she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you hid your face.

“You should be, that was weird.”

“Yeah, oops,” you chuckled.

“So, you sure you want to go through with this because,” she cocked an eyebrow and smirked as she shrugged, “I’m pretty good if I do say so myself.”

“Alright alright, calm down,” you smiled putting your hand up to stop her. You took a deep breath and took a second to think about everything, “I want to do it.”

“Finally,” the wrestler breathed as she grabbed your face and smashed your lips together. It wasn’t like you haven’t kissed her before, but it was different this time. There was yearning and lust and you wanted more of it.

Small moans came from the both of you as your hands glided up her bare thighs, prying at the edge of her booty shorts. Her hands moved to your waist to pull you closer but you decided to straddle her instead.

“A little desperate, are we?” she guided your hips down onto her lap.

“Sshhh,” as you kissed her again. Now her hands were gliding on your thighs. After a few moments, her hands found their way under your, well her shirt, and felt up your back pulling you in tighter. You arched your back into her with a low whine. Her nails dug into your back sending shockwaves through your body and directly to your core.

You gently began to grind your hips and she took the opportunity to put her hands on your ass and guide you through it. Moaning into the kisses, you ran your hand through her hair while the other kept your balance on the back of the couch.

She snuck one of her hands to the front of the waistband playing with it, “can I…”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, you were nervous but you’ve never felt safer.

She slowly slipped her hand underneath and began to gently caress your hot center with just a layer of fabric separating her hand from you.

“Shit,” you whined.

“You okay?” she caught your gaze.

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip.

Drawing small gentle circles on your sensitive bud, your hips jerked a bit as you let out a small whimper. You tried to cover it by kissing her again.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, “It’s hot.”

You were still weary but thankful she said something. So you nod in response before resting your head on her shoulder. Her pace had gotten faster now and you were riding her hand in perfect unison. “Mmmfuck,” you threw your head back.

You removed your hand from her hair to meet with hers in the sweatpants. You stopped her hand and moved it under the one layer that was blocking her. You removed your hand but she got the message immediately. She ran her fingers over your wet folds picking up what had been oozing out of you before going back to her pace.

You moaned as your head fell back onto her shoulder, breathing heavily. She twisted her head and started to kiss your neck before ever so slightly biting. Your moans became more frequent and the pressure was quickly beginning to rise.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Don’t say it…just do it,” her voice was deep in your ear.

And with that, the pressure released, “Oh GOD,” you yelled as you threw your head back once more. She kept her pace and let you ride it out.

After an about a minute she removed her hand, “you okay?”

You were breathing heavily into her neck, “yeah,” as you sat up.

“Good because we’re not done yet,” and she easily picked you up carrying you to her room and onto her bed. She set you down gently, “totally up to you, but on a scale of one to ten, how rough-”

“Seven,” you blurted out a little too quickly.

“Hm,” she stood above you with her hands on her hips, “so what do you…”

“Oh, uhm,” your face turned redder than it was. You never had this conversation with your ex he just kinda did what he wanted, “I’m… not sure.”

“Do you like when someone talks you through it?”

You thought about it, “yes.”

“Do you like being praised or no?”

You thought again but longer this time, “I’m not sure.”

“We can try both and see what happens,” she said casually, “What about choking?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” you didn’t have to think about that one.

“Okay,” she chuckled, “obviously you’re a pillow princess.”

You acted surprised, “how’d you know?”

“I could tell,” she laughed. “Are you okay to start again?” her tone became serious.

You readjusted your position, placing your hands in your lap neatly, “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooh, I like that,” she cooed. “Now get comfy, princess,” as she pointed to the pillows behind you.

So you scooted back a bit and laid down on the bed. You watched as she crawled menacingly on top of you. The tattooed hand slid up your torso and to your neck turning your head to the side and holding it in place. She ran her tongue up your neck, sending a shiver through your body. Your hands were carefully placed on her sides just to have something to hold on to.

She kissed down your jaw, to your mouth before making eye contact with you, “Anything he could do, I can do better,” she growled.

You couldn’t say anything you were so turned on now. Never in a million years did you think you would be in this situation. So you smiled devilishly in response.

“Promise,” she tacked on before going back to your neck. She sat up and tugged at the waistband of the sweat pants, “Can I take these off?”

“You can do anything you want,” you finally admitted.

“Don’t tell me that,” she smirked.

“I’m serious,” your tone was stern as you caught her icy blue eyes with yours.

Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “okay,” her voice graveled.

She easily slipped the pants off of you but you took it a step further and took the shirt off too, leaving you in nothing but underwear.

She was surprised but her energy quickly changed. Her eyes filled with hunger as she looked over your body taking in every inch. It didn’t take long for her to spread your legs to begin to kiss on your thighs.

You whimpered at her touch as your hands flew to her hair, holding it out of her way. Kissing her way up your thighs, moving from one to the other with every other peck, she looked at you as she landed one on your soaked center.

You moaned catching her gaze as she smiled into another kiss. You writhed under her as she continued to touch everywhere but where you needed her most. You were over it so you pushed her head away.

“What-”

“Just,” you threw off your underwear as quickly as possible, “fucking go for it, please.”

“I thought I was teaching you?” she joked.

“Please, please, just fuck me,” you begged.

“So desperate,” she said slyly.

“God, please Rhea,” you were basically whining at this point.

“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg,” she smoothed her hands over your thighs.

You did whine a little, gently hitting your fists on the bed, “Ugh! Pleeaase!!”

She scoffed before she dove her head back down. Her tongue smoothed over your wet folds immediately.

You gasped, “fuck, yesss,” as you picked up your legs, folding at the knees.

She held your hips in place as her tongue worked its magic. She hummed into you, causing your body to shiver again at the vibrations. She skillfully flicked her tongue over your clit before lapping you up again.

The noises coming out of you were something you didn’t think would happen but you let them come anyway. Moans and whines filled the room as she continued. The knot inside of you returned, causing you to ride her face.

She smiled into your movements holding you tighter. She kept her pace steady as your hips jerked against her, “shit…ffffuck,” you moaned. Just a few more moments and you were coming once again. You yelled in pleasure as she forced your legs open to stop you from suffocating her, she didn’t stop though, letting you finish out your high.

Once you came down, she kissed her way up to your mouth, “you taste so…” she thought about it, “delicious,” and kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself against her but you didn’t mind. She was right, she was doing everything better than he was.

“I think you’re ready to turn it up a notch, yeah?” she said as she slinked off of you and went to the closet.

You covered your eyes with your hands trying to think of what she meant. You couldn’t believe you were here with her of all people. THE Rhea Ripley, pleasing you, making you feel safe, giving you everything you need and more. You were afraid you were in love with her.

The door clicked open, “Close your eyes,” she said before walking out.

“Okay,” your hands fully covered your eyes now as you heard her walk towards you, then felt her crawl onto the bed above you once more.

“Don’t peek,” she said as she felt you up once more, running her hands over your hot skin. She slid them up your torso and to your breasts, gently running her thumb over your nipples. Your back arched into her touch. She maneuvered herself between your legs, “such a pretty sight.”

Another shockwave went through your body as you heard those words, you didn’t know you liked praise until this moment.

“You liked that, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you tried to remove your hands.

“Nuh uh, I said no peeking,” she started to draw small circles on your clit again with her thumb, “you’ve been such a good girl…”

You whimpered into her touch, arching your back a bit.

“But I’d like to see you,” her tone became harsh, “be a slut,” and she pressed harder into you.

“Fuck,” you whined.

“Good to know you liked that too,” her fingers danced at your entrance before easily pushing inside of you.

You slammed your hands onto the bed gripping onto the sheets as you arched your back, “FUCK,” you screamed.

She slowly pumped her fingers in and out of you holding one of your thighs open. She kept her steady pace watching you squirm at her touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes but you could feel her staring.

“You’re doing so well for me,” she purred.

You moaned at her praise, hearing her deep chuckle in response. She picked up her pace gradually until she was satisfied, and stayed like that for a few minutes.

As more whines fell out of you, you barely noticed her moving into a different position on top of you until she pulled her fingers out, “Look,” was all she said.

So you fluttered your eyes open, “holy fuck,” you breathed as you watched her suck her fingers clean. But what really caught your eye was what she was wearing: a strap.

“Don’t worry, you can take it, easy,” as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. But first she picked up your legs and folded you in half, “You ready princess?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned.

She smiled as she guided it into you slowly, letting you get used to it.

“Yessss god…Holy fuck,” you moaned when she started to slowly pump in and out of you.

“You okay?” she reassured.

“Never better,” you choked out.

“Thought so,” she smirked. Quickly picking up the pace, “Bet he never made you feel this good, huh?”

“N-never,” your eyes were in the back of your head.

She was now plunging into you at an ungodly pace, “too bad he never got to see how good of a slut you are.”

The praise mixed with degradation was driving you insane, and she was right. He never treated you this well and you loved every second of it and she could tell too. Your tits were bouncing, your eyes were rolled and your legs were shaking. She was hitting you just right, “Oh god, Rhea!” you whined.

She loved hearing you say her name. She was enjoying the view as much as you were enjoying her. The bed began to squeak as she pounded into you. One of her hands snuck its way around your legs and to your neck, gently squeezing around it. Your hand gripped her wrist as you smiled devilishly at her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess,” she huffed.

“Go…faster,” you choked out.

“Such a fucking whore,” she barked, but she grabbed your calves with either hand and pushed your legs father down, completely folding you in half. She took a deep breath and began to pound into you so hard and so fast that you lost your breath.

“YES,” you screamed and after a few more seconds, “FU-U-U-UCKK!!” and you came again. But that didn’t slow her down.

She kept her insane pace, “C’mon baby…one more,” she demanded, “I know you got it in you.”

Whimpering at every push into you, it didn’t take long to the pressure to rise again, “OH FUCK, YESS…GOD, RHEA,” and once again, you came but this time your whole body shook and your legs fell weak under her.

She finally slowed her pace and gently pulled out of you. Your body fell limp as she slid off of you smiling and breathing heavily.

You caught your breath, “four times,” you rested your hands on your forehead, “four…times.”

“I never break my promises.”

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #i need her in ways that are concerning to the feminist movement

329 notes · View notes

here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’.

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late.

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space.

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it’s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back.

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume.

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.”

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit.

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #a hyung holiday

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