Bbyhoneysuga - Bri - Tumblr Blog

"am I being annoying" are you aware that my heart is trying to crawl out of my chest to get to you

"who radicalized you" ever since i was a child i wanted other people to be treated nicely and fairly because i didnt understand why theyd deserve otherwise and it fills me with disgust seeing how people treat their fellow human beings sometimes

happy birthday to the most relatable cutie, jimin 🥰 (insp.) (cr. jung-koook, qdeoks, namuspromised. transl cr. taee, bts-trans)

not to be gross but spencer reid would be such a little sap about getting married and planning your wedding. imagine how happy he would be n the pictures after you said yes. tears in his eyes, big dopey smile. he’d be so excited to see you in white at your engagement party, the rehearsal dinner, etc. he’d make sure every dress you wore was everything you’d ever want. he’d want to just make it perfect for both of you :,)

OLDER MASTERLIST 𝜗𝜚

join me, a writer with raging daddy issues and an obsession with jungkook, bring these two subjects together. heres a masterlist of six different storylines, all with the same golden man we are in love with. heres to those who have daddy issues and taste for men who are older.

BE MY DADDY.

# smut, dilf jungkook, age gap [20 + 41], college student reader, best friends dad.

your best friend invites you to her home for the summer. you take a liking to the air conditioner and pool... and her father. 

coming soon . . .

GET HIM BACK!

# smut, dilf jungkook, age gap [25 + 46], ex boyfriends dad.

your boyfriend of two years cheated on you and revenge never sounded sweeter. lucky for you, he had a hot dad. and you knew the perfect way to get back at him. 

coming soon . . .

THE OTHER WOMAN.

# smut, age gap [27 + 39], neighbor au, cheating au.

your neighbor was lovely. from coming over with food, to giving you a helping hand whenever you needed one. however, her husband was much lovelier.

coming soon . . .

GUYS MY AGE.

# smut, age gap [19 + 28], professor au.

the boys in your class were all the same — immature and arrogant. except for the man teaching it. 

coming soon . . .

PACIFY HER.

# smut, dilf jungkook, ceo jungkook, age gap [21 + 30], nanny reader, cheating au.

you were always there whenever the jeons needed you to watch their baby when they were off to work. and when mr. jeon needed a hand… or a mouth.

coming soon . . .

YOUR GIRL.

# smut, age gap [20 + 42], dads best friend.

you always had a small attraction to your dad's best friend when you were younger. with time and age, it is no longer so small, and that attraction is so much more than a little crush. 

coming soon . . .

𝜗𝜚 living4thefame.

"Friends dont look at friends that way" COWARD. I look at my friends with awe in my eyes, my chest is filled with love, im glowing because i get to be near my friends. I look at my friends and i would give them my everything. SO SKILL ISSUE, look at your friends with all the love that you have

no vacancy | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it to much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

Ddaeng [ 땡 ] ft. Vocal Line

© namuspromised

home ♡

THIS LOOK! 

bonus:

@secretsecretbunny told me to post these yoons I un-whitewashed so here are your yoons

the angle is important

+

his nose scrunch i'm going to cry 🥺

bonus — I'm not crying you are 🥹:

Behind the Scenes with Jimin | VOGUEMEETS (7/10)

Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

~~

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

-

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

-

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19." 

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

-

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

-

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

-

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

Thanks for Reading!!

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist <3

still don’t know my name | jjk (m)

➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lotssss of sexting, cybersex, degradation kink, mentions of pornography, exchanging nude photos, nsfw twitter, masturbation (m & f), jungkook is a fucking JERK, reader is an annoying brat, bickering, neighbor beef, no like jk is rlly meannnndjdjdjd, reader is kinda dumb but thats not a warning for any time soon, awkward tension, lots of tension, gamer!jk, freelancer!jk, bam cameo <3, name calling (brat, dumb, stupid, etc.), mentions of roughhh sex (enjoyed by both parties), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.3k

a/n: so happy pt. 1 is out !! 🤭🤭🤭 just building up the tension for this one … hehe 😋 hope u like it <333 feedback n reblogs are appreciated!

btw: unedited .. not my best work but i rlly wanted to get this idea out + jungkook is basically unnamed but it’s definitely abt him guys like don’t confuse anything he’s definitely the annoying neighbor but as it’s from reader’s perspective, you don’t know his name so he’s pretty much nameless

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ TEASER ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:23PM

So what are you wearing lol

Ugh. You can’t roll your eyes hard enough at that. Do guys have no idea how to flirt with women anymore? What else would you be wearing than pyjamas if you told him you’re already in bed?

You | 9:25PM

pyjamas lol

@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:25PM

What kind

For fuck’s sake. Do men think women go to sleep in lingerie? Why did you even make that secret account if all men just bore you to death in your private messages?

You | 9:26PM

sweatpants and a tank top

@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:27PM

Isn’t it too hot for sweatpants? Haha

You | 9:30PM

i was kinda cold so i was hoping you’d get me hot and bothered but you’ve got me falling asleep tbh. goodnight aaron

@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:32PM

Damn lol. Harsh. This is why women don’t get asked out on dates anymore

Right… that’s the reason. Dumbass.

You waste no time blocking this goofball before turning over and closing your eyes, chasing the sleep you so desperately crave.

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“Dude, how the hell did you miss that?!”

The muffled voice coming from the wall to your right makes you want to scream into your pillow. With an annoyed grunt, you roll over and reach for your phone, squinting when your phone lights up and sting your eyes in the dark.

11:14PM.

A loud groan bubbles up the back of your throat as you slam your fist into the wall repeatedly, hoping your annoying neighbor gets the hint.

“I just saw you–” he pauses, “hold on a second.”

Not even 5 seconds pass before the banging is returned to your wall, as if you’re the one making all that damn noise.

He doesn’t just knock one or two times, he keeps banging like he’s got something to prove and he’s doing a great job at making your blood boil.

Then, he returns—to what you assume to be his computer—and continues talking at a volume that would allow the entire neighborhood to hear him play his stupid video games.

You angrily toss the sheets off your body when you’ve had enough, swinging your legs off the side of your bed. You angrily shove your feet into your fuzzy slippers before stomping your way to his front door, a Hello Kitty tank top draped over your torso and velvet shorts—yes, you lied to that freak—with the bedazzled word ‘JUICY’ spelled across your perky asscheeks.

You raise your hand and aggressively slam your fist down on the door, repeatedly and annoyingly like he did to your bedroom wall just a few seconds ago. It’s almost like his golden apartment number—504B—is mockingly staring at you. The urge to peel it off his door and toss it into your toilet is growing with each passing millisecond.

A loud groan reaches your ears from behind the door before keys jingling together resounds throughout the corridor.

The door swings open and there he is. Headphones around his neck, a scowl on his face, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek in annoyance as he slowly—and very arrogantly—drags his gaze down your body before meeting your furious eyes again.

This happens every fucking week.

Your eyes drape over his figure, committing it all to memory. His wavy black locks are pulled back in a small bun, strands—that are too short to fit into the elastic—frame his face just right and his torso is clad in a black tank top, tattoo sleeve on full display for you.

His grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, a silver chain decorates his neck, silver rings in his lip that glimmer under the hallway light of your shared corridor.

You cross your arms over your chest in defiance, proving to him that you don’t care about his scowl and he can look pissed all he wants. “Some people are trying to fucking sleep,” you snark at him.

He exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and it makes the nerves in your hands tingle with the need to smack the shit out of him. In response, he barks, “Who goes to sleep at 11PM on a fucking Friday?”

What a fucking asshole. If you could have the chance to kill one person in your life, it’d be him.

“I do. Now, stop playing your stupid games so damn loud. You sound like a fucking freak,” you huff, not waiting for a response as you start heading back to your apartment, which is literally—and unfortunately—right next to his.

“Yeah, don’t fucking count on it,” he calls out after you before loudly slamming his door shut.

Ugh, what a fucking prick! Can’t he just be considerate? You live in the same building, that means everyone living here should be considerate of others.

You’re aware that you’re the only one that has noise complaints about him, but it’s not your fault that your room is right next to his gaming setup!

You quickly snatch the pillow off your bed after you stormed back to your room with a complimentary door slam, just as loud as your annoying neighbor’s. Quiet insults about him spill out of your mouth as you throw your pillow on your couch and plop down, trying to go back to sleep in this boiling heat.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to fall asleep.

Your chest dramatically inflates as you take a deep breath before taking your phone into your hands, deciding to scroll through your social media apps for a little while. Until they put you to sleep, at least.

You open the Twitter app and switch from your personal account to your secret account.

Which is basically just an account filled with pornography.

Not pornography of you, just home-made amateur porn videos by others that you retweet onto your profile—if you like them.

You’ve gained over 4.000 followers in the past few months—which also inevitably summons a few annoying men in your private and requested messages but nothing you can’t handle.

With a loud sigh, you scroll down your timeline and see your favorite NSFW account tweeted a few hours ago.

You click on his account and decide to scroll through it because it’s been quite a while since you last checked.

‘Me and who?’

‘Need a brat to do this to’

‘This video is hot as fuck’

Those are just the few captions you see, all followed by amateur porn videos and a couple thousand likes on each post.

The video plays silently and the soft moans from the woman in the video reaches your ears. She sounds angelic. Your teeth slowly sink into your bottom lip as you watch the man in the video press her further into the mattress, slamming his hips down into her ass.

The tingle in your core doesn’t let up and you’ve lost track of time when you glance up at the time, realizing you’ve been scrolling through this account for the past 30 minutes.

Your panties uncomfortably stick to your sex, silently groaning as you turn onto your back and scroll back up to the first video, captioned ‘Me and who?’. You watch it again, eyes glued to how this girl gets absolutely ruined, legs pushed back in mating press, moans and cries escaping her.

If only you could be in her position right now.

Your fingers slowly inch towards the hem of your shorts and slip under the elastic before you sneak your fingers into your panties.

The slick that coats your fingers from barely grazing your slit is absurd; you’re disgustingly drenched. A soft sigh escapes you as you slowly begin to rub circles directly onto your clit, grunting and moaning softly to yourself as you continue to watch the video on your phone.

Fuck.

You can’t help but grind up into your own fingers, groaning at the lack of friction you really crave. Being fucked exactly like in this video.

The speed in which you chase your orgasm picks up, rubbing faster and faster. It doesn’t take long after for you to cum all over your own fingers—you haven’t touched yourself in a while so the orgasm has you chasing your breath. You really need to start investing in some toys or something.

And no, not a partner. They’re nothing but disappointments waiting to happen.

A whine leaves your lips when you realize you have to get up and wash your hands, clean them of your slick. Your legs lazily swing off the side of the couch as you sit straight up.

You go to the kitchen to wash your hands and by the time you get comfortable on your couch again, you reach for your phone. You reply to the ‘Me and who?’ tweet with;

‘me i hope lol. cause i just came so hard to this video’

Then, you like the original tweet and lock your phone for the night, turning over and immediately drifting off into a deep slumber.

You don’t hear your annoying neighbor for the rest of the night.

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The following morning, you stir and slurp up the drool that had trickled down your chin. You must’ve been exhausted. How embarrassing.

Your hand reaches up and wipes your chin clean with the back of your hand as you sit straight up, scratching the back of your head as you try to wake up.

You glance at your phone and it says 10:03AM.

Fuck!

You shoot up from your couch, cursing to yourself. You’re supposed to meet a friend today at 10:30AM.

After taking a quick shower, putting on your clothes for the day and doing your hair & makeup, you quickly exit your apartment and lock the doors behind you before heading to the elevator.

Your phone buzzes.

[10:44AM]

Jimin

Incoming call

Shit!

Your finger taps the green button to accept the call. “Jimin,” you say, apologetically.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “Where are you?”

You quickly slam your fingers into the elevator button, hoping the more you tap on it, the quicker it’ll arrive.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. I overslept. I’ll tell you the details when I get there.”

“Alright, no worries. I thought something bad happened, is all.”

Finally, the elevator arrives and opens up, making you hurry inside.

“Oh, no, nothing happened, I’m okay.”

Right as the elevator doors finally close, a hand slips right in between the gap before they fully close, forcing it open.

“Okay, good! I’ll save us a spot.”

You barely register Jimin’s words when the doors open and your eyes are met with none other than your annoying fucking neighbor.

You do your best not to groan at the sight in front of you and he doesn’t seem too happy about being in this small elevator with you for 30 seconds either, evident by the frown on his thick brows and the twitch in his lips.

“Y/N?”

Jimin’s voice drags you out of your trance, making you avert your gaze from the rude loser in front of you, watching as he walks into the elevator within your peripherals and settling right across from you.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.” You don’t say much else as you hang up the phone, shoving it into your purse before intently staring at the floor like it’s got something important to tell you.

He does the same, though. He’s not staring back, his chin is tilted up and you can only assume he’s glaring at the little screen above the button panel that indicates what floor you’re on.

The tension is so thick, it could snap with the single slice of a dull butterknife.

It seems to be the longest 30 seconds of your life, the occasional mechanical sounds as the elevator slides in between floors fill up your ears like it’s being blasted on a speaker at the highest volume right next to your head.

You allow your eyes to subtly travel to his hand, catching a glimpse of his tattooed knuckles and fingers that are clad in silver rings.

Fuck.

You avert your eyes before he catches you staring but you continue to just stare at the floor, bringing up your hand to scratch behind your ear in hopes you’d feel less awkward.

But it doesn’t help at all.

Fortunately, you safely make it to the ground floor and the elevator doors slowly open up. He doesn’t even have the decency to let you out first, just struts right out without another look at you and you watch as his figure disappears down the lobby.

You scoff to yourself but don’t let it get to you, ‘cause who cares? Walking out, you quickly exit the elevator too, heading out through a backdoor to get to your car.

Hmph. Jerk.

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You finally arrive at your destination, immediately spotting Jimin in the back.

With a saunter, you approach him quickly and sit down across from him.

“Hey,” he chirps as he puts his iced coffee down, nodding towards another right next to his to indicate it’s yours.

“Hi,” you breathe out as you plop down on the seat across from him, stirring your iced coffee with the paper straw.

“You’ve been oversleeping a lot, haven’t you? Is something the matter?” he inquires, tilting his head to search for your eyes.

Your hand comes up to rub your hairline, a soft sigh pushing past your lips as you stare at the cup in front of you. “My damn neighbor is getting way more fucking annoying with each passing day, Jimin. I don’t know how to deal with him.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs in solidarity to your frustration. “That same guy? You two have been bickering for more than half a year, give it a rest.”

“It’s not my damn fault!” you whine, taking a sip of your iced coffee, almost moaning as the sweet goodness hits your tongue.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Anyway,” he starts, “how have you been?”

You part your lips to reply to him but get caught off guard by your phone buzzing. You intend to ignore it but then your phone buzzes again, again, and again. You wince when you see Jimin’s expression, offering him an apologetic smile as you glance down at your phone, reading the notification.

[Twitter]

@archurback4me liked your reply!

[Twitter]

@archurback4me liked your tweet!

[Twitter]

@archurback4me retweeted your tweet!

[Twitter]

@archurback4me followed you back!

Holy shit. What the fuck?

You’ve been following this NSFW account since forever! You can’t believe they just followed you back. You never expected them to notice you, much less follow and retweet one of your tweets.

“Y/N?” Jimin taps the table with his fingers right next to your drink to get your attention and he finally does.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble and lock your phone, forcing yourself to dive back into the conversation but your mind is still clouded with being followed back by your favorite account. “Sorry. What were we talking about?”

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As soon as you say goodbye to Jimin, you get in your car, reach for your phone in your pockets and quickly open Twitter. The order of notifications can only mean one thing; they liked your reply to their tweet, clicked on your account, scrolled through your account—because the tweet of yours they liked and retweeted is from a few days ago—and then followed you. You scroll through your notifications, noticing how the tweet they RTed has been blowing up.

The tweet of yours they retweeted is an amateur porn video of a guy fucking a girl in speed-bump-position, hips rocking into her ass as soft moans spill from her lips.

You captioned it ‘me and you’ and now there are hundreds of accounts under your tweet, saying stuff like ‘Fuck yeah’, tagging other accounts, asking for the source of the video and more.

You can’t believe your favorite account followed you back, how insane is that?

Your leg bounces up as you start scrolling through their account, your tweet being right at the top of their page.

Ah! This is so exciting.

You quickly ditch your phone, tossing it into the passenger seat before driving home.

Upon your arrival at your building’s parking lot, you quickly shimmy out of your car and jog towards the front door in excitement, barely able to contain yourself when you think about all the new accounts that have followed you and interacted with you because of that one interaction with @archurback4me.

You unlock the door to your building’s lobby and hurry inside but just as quickly, you bump into what seems to be a brick wall.

Except, it isn’t a brick wall—it’s your annoying neighbor’s chest.

(Who’s also really sexy.)

“Ow,” you mumble, reaching up to rub your nose to soothe the impact of colliding face first with his body.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” he grumbles but doesn’t seem to have any intention to rid himself of the proximity between you two.

You shoot him a glare and part your lips to shoot a comeback but you stop yourself when you hear sniffles coming from your shoes. Your head tilts down and your eyes are met by a brown Dobermann sniffing your feet and calves.

“Stop that, Bam,” he says as he gently tugs on the leash, putting an end to the dog’s greeting to you.

You’ve seen his dog before and—unlike him—the dog is pretty sweet.

“Oh, hi, you,” you coo, reaching your hand out to Bam’s snout to let him get a sniff of you and he does, tail wagging back and forth.

You glance up at your shitty neighbor, who is just staring at you with a soft scrunch between his thick brows. You hate how good he looks. Someone with a face that pretty shouldn’t have an attitude that foul, it makes them ugly.

Your brow quirks up, your way of asking for permission to pet his dog without giving him the satisfaction of asking him verbally.

His response is a simple shrug of his shoulders, which makes you instantly turn your attention back to Bam. Your hand starts stroking over his soft head, giving him chin and tummy scratches.

The dog leans into your touch, seemingly craving more and you intend to do that. You squat down but in the instance that you do, you regret it.

Bam instantly lunges at you and it makes you lose your balance, his strength is enough to knock you over and fall flat on your ass with a soft thud on the hard tiles. You don’t even get the chance to process what’s going on when Bam climbs onto your body and licks at your face, coating it in his slimy kisses.

“Bam!” his owner shouts, hands flying towards his dog’s harness immediately to get Bam off you and he finally does.

You wipe your wet cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt before rising to your feet again, dusting off your pants.

“Sorry about that, he can get pretty excited. Did you happen to eat any chicken today?” he asks you and you have to pretend to not be shocked with the way he’s interacting with you as if he views you as an equal and not an insect, like he usually does.

You soothe the sting in your elbows from the fall by rubbing it with your hands as you frown at him. “Yeah, I did.”

He slowly nods at your words and waves a warning finger at Bam, dark eyes silently lecturing him like a parent to their child in public.

Bam doesn’t care, though, simply continues to run in circles and chase his own tail.

“He lacks manners sometimes,” he mumbles to himself as he stares at his dog—that’s cutely running in circles like an idiot.

“Hm,” you pause, “like his owner?”

Smack cam.

His head snaps at you, an agitated frown on his brows. He clearly does not like that.

With that, you turn on your heels and head to the elevator without looking back at him but in your peripherals, you notice that he’s still standing there, glaring at you.

You click on the button to summon the elevator to avoid his intense gaze, he’d bore you into the ground if you were to look at him right this moment.

Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last long enough.

“You literally complain about every little thing like a fucking granny, give me a break.” His voice is raised with the intention that you can hear him loud and clear, after the distance you put in between you two—his tone full of venom and mockery.

“And you game loud as fuck every minute of the night like a fucking loser. How about you give me a break?” you retort, foot tapping against the tiles underneath your shoe in impatience as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

He replies, “It’s not my fault your bedroom is right next to my gaming setup.”

Right, you told him about that fact during one of your many nightly adventures that are located at his front door with balled fists and flared nostrils.

But it’s not your fault either.

The elevator dings and you can finally release that breath you were holding, chest slowly deflating. You place one foot inside before turning your head in his direction to glance at him, eyes meeting his angry gaze.

“It’s not my fault either. I guess you’re just gonna keep seeing me in front of your door every other week, asking you to be a decent fucking human and be considerate of others.” You take one step into the elevator just so the doors don’t close on you after the words coated with poison leave your lips, almost stinging your own tongue. “And you have the audacity to blame that poor dog for his lack of manners? Seems like someone can’t take responsibility.”

You fully step into the elevator without another word but that’s not necessary when you see the surprised look on his face before hopping in.

That’s what he gets, you suppose.

Once you enter your apartment, you toss your keys onto the accent table by the door and kick off your shoes, leaving them unorganized by the door. You saunter into your bathroom and quickly strip, turning the water on in your shower to heat it up.

However, right as you’re about to step in, there’s angry banging on your front door.

Ah. Whoever could that be?

You wrap a big white towel around your naked body and approach your front door, creating a small gap as you open it whilst hiding your body behind it.

Why the fuck is he here?

“I’m moving my gaming setup to my room tonight. If I hear one more goddamn complaint from you, I’m making my dog shit all over your fucking doormat,” he pauses, big black eyes glaring into yours. He leans in a bit closer and it seems like only then that you realize he’s been pushing your front door further open with his elbow. “Are we clear?”

His furious gaze almost stings you. Summoning daggers to shoot into your skin. Planting a thorned vine around your throat. Letting it sink its sharp teeth into your flesh until you bleed out. That’s the only way you can describe his suffocating glare.

His breath fans over your face, a subtle reminder that he’s standing close. Too close.

You swallow in an attempt to rid yourself of the drought in your throat he just created. “It doesn’t matter where you move it to. If I hear you, I’m going to complain. Whether that’s right next to my bedroom wall or at the end of your corridor, you fucking freak.”

And with that, you slam the door shut in his face before he can say anything else.

Who does he think he is?

Threatening you his dog’s feces. What a freak!

You huff to yourself as you stare at the closed door for a moment longer before angrily stomping to the bathroom. You reach for your phone and notice some more notifications from Twitter, which instantly reminds you of what happened earlier today and makes you forget about the interaction with your neighbor just now.

Should you message the account? You totally want to! The owner of the account has posted occasional pictures of his body parts but never his face. No matter what he looks like physically, he’s so fucking attractive for his fantasies and the way he speaks.

You scroll a bit through the account until you see a picture of the account owner’s hand, captioned;

‘For the people who asked for a picture of my hand… Lol.’

With a picture of his veiny hand.

Wow.

Fuck.

Your eyes trail the outline of their fingers, nails, veins, wrist, knuckles. You’d love to have that pulling on your hair, spanking your asscheek, wrapped around your throat.

Should you just…?

Message them?

Let’s list the outcomes.

1.) Worst case scenario—they brutally reject you.

2.) Average case scenario—they never reply.

3.) Best case scenario—they reply and reciprocate the flirtatious energy.

You could live with any scenario, even the worst one. It’s just a stranger on the internet anyway.

But his private messages must be blowing up. With over 80,000 followers and thousands of likes and comments, you doubt he’d ever even see your message.

Fuck it.

Shoot your shot.

You tap the share button and choose to send the post of his own hand to him in a private message and then you tap the text box to add a few words.

Mind racing with all the things you could say, your thumbs anxiously hover over the keyboard as you contemplate your options.

Then, you start typing before you can even think it through and you hit send without another thought.

Fuck!

You | 6:31PM

(You shared @archurback4me’s tweet with @archurback4me.)

hi could you maybe not share pictures of my new necklace? people might want to steal it

Fuck. You really just implied his hand is a necklace to you, wanting it wrapped around your throat at all times. You crazy bitch.

You stare at your phone a little while longer but nothing changes. You deeply inhale and breathe out a long sigh that carries a pinch of disappointment before ditching your towel and getting into the shower.

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As you get out of the shower, you can’t help but immediately lunge at your phone, the events from before your hour-long shower booming in your mind when you check your Twitter.

Holy shit.

No messages. What a surprise.

You have requested messages but it’s just bots claiming to be sugar daddies, roleplay accounts or guys wanting you to rate their penis.

You’re a lost cause.

You groan immaturely as you toss your phone aside, drying your body with a pout on your lips and a slight frown decorating your brows.

Your phone keeps buzzing and your heart threatens to implode within your ribcage, yet every time you check it’s just a notification about your tweet being liked again or some loser in your private messages talking to themselves.

Stop it. You’re like a teenager waiting for a response back from the popular guy at school, grow up.

You perform your usual routine before getting dressed in a new pyjama set, loving the way the fabric feels against your freshly shaven legs.

You make yourself a late night dinner, eating it by yourself like a loser before heading into your room and dropping onto your mattress, plugging your phone into the charger and turning over.

A gentle sigh pushes past your lips as you shut your eyes tightly, enough to make stars appear on the back of your eyelids.

Your phone buzzes again but you decide to ignore it. Sleeping time is precious.

You suppose you’ll check it out in the morning.

Wait.

What if it’s @archurback4me?

You try to ignore your thoughts. You need to sleep.

But you can’t ignore it.

You turn over and immediately reach for your phone, watching as it lights up and your heartbeat stutters in its rhythm when you see it’s a Twitter notification.

You open it up, anxiously biting down on your lip. Fuck, you need to calm down.

It’s a message. Holy shit.

Your thumb hesitates but eventually opens your private messages tab.

@ilikebigbootybitches2 | 12:09AM

Why did you block me lol

For FUCK’s sake. Did that Aaron guy really create a new account to send you another message?

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming your head off before locking your phone and turning over again, trying to sleep for real this time.

You should just forget about it at this point.

And you finally, slowly, drift off into a deep slumber, without a single sound coming from your neighbor’s apartment.

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The sunlight peeks through your curtains, causing you to swallow down the curse that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue. You really need to get darker curtains.

You crack your eyelids open and glare at the ceiling, softly sighing as you bring your hands up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. You reach for your phone, noticing a few more notifications from messages, Instagram and Twitter. You check your messages first, replying to Jimin’s question about whether he should cut his hair or not.

Then you open Instagram, noticing the likes people have left on your story—a picture of you hanging out with Jimin.

And then, with a deep sigh, you open Twitter, scrolling through the hundreds of notifications about your tweet being liked and retweeted. You should’ve muted that damn tweet before going to sleep.

You notice you’ve gotten new private messages and you already hold your heart to not be disappointed.

@cockandballt0rture

1 message

You sigh in annoyance and open to read it.

@cockandballt0rture | 8:43AM

hey cutie

You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

@ilikebigbootybitches2

4 messages

For fuck’s sake. Doesn’t this guy know when to give up? You open the conversation nonetheless.

@ilikebigbootybitches2 | 6:01AM

I didn’t even do anything

I’m sorry if I said something wrong

Yo unblock me bitch

Goodmorning beautiful

What a fucking freak. These were all sent in the span of 2 hours. What a red flag.

Your mood is worsening the more time you spend in your private messages tab.

@archurback4me

2 messages

You’re not even in the mood to keep checking, you just…

Wait.

Holy fucking shit.

Is that…?

It is.

It’s him.

He replied.

A lump forms in your throat and it unleashes a bag of sand all over your tongue, drying out your mouth in the process. Why the hell are you so nervous? Just check the messages!

Average case scenario has been thrown out the window. It’s either brutal rejection or reciprecation.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Your thumb taps the unread messages and your eyes intently watch as his response is revealed to you.

@archurback4me | 2:12AM

Necklace, huh? Lol. Can’t lie, I like that a lot. That’s a good one.

First time talking to me and you’re already demanding and claiming me? ‘Brat galore’ for sure. Someone needs to teach you some manners, Angel.

Holy shit.

Oh, shit. What the hell?

Why is your heart pounding in your throat? You wanted this.

It’s excitement. With a mixture of anxiety, maybe. Just breathe. You’ve always got good comebacks, make use of them!

Okay, you will. You wanted him to reply and he did. Now, think about what you want to say to make sure this conversation keeps going.

You decide not to answer just yet, it’s barely 10AM. Go wash your face and brush your teeth before you even begin to think about being horny.

You rub your eyes once more and swing your legs off the bed. Damn, you slept well tonight. You actually didn’t hear a thing from next door. You won’t applaud him for it but you’re glad you’ve finally slept undisturbed a whole night.

You freshen up, make yourself breakfast, lazily watch TV. You do every and anything to get your mind off of that message. Unfortunately, you’re an impatient bitch.

You | 11:16AM

someone needs to teach me manners? i don’t think anyone has the capability to put up with me like that lol. being annoying is like my second nature

You almost want to scream at the amount of strength you use to not cringe at yourself. It’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid, holy shit.

You continue to watch TV, satisfied with just having a lazy Sunday.

2 hours in, you’re chewing obnoxiously loud on some Cheetos, chugging back a can of soda as you’re deep into this murder-mystery show, pausing several times to explain your theories at the wall like a fucking loser.

Damn, you need friends.

Your phone buzzes.

You absentmindedly glance at your phone before back at the TV, shoving some more cheese balls into your mouth.

Until the notification registers in your brain.

You almost choke when you lunge at your phone and unlock it.

Twitter notification.

Fuck.

@archurback4me | 1:23PM

Are you challenging me? Lol

Oh.

Yes. Yes, you are.

Would you look desperate if you replied right away?

Man, fuck it! You’re not a high schooler. It’s a Sunday and you have nothing better to do.

Your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you type in your message and send it.

You | 1:24PM

that depends. do you like to be challenged?

You return your attention to your TV, fighting so hard not to glance at your phone.

It’s easier when you remember it takes him a while to respond anyway, so no need to—

Your phone buzzes.

You immediately lunge at your phone as if his message contains an acceptance letter from Harvard Law.

@archurback4me | 1:27PM

Who doesn’t like to prove others wrong? Especially when the others in question are brats that love to run their mouth lol

Why are you getting horny over some random text? Get yourself together!

You | 1:28PM

and how would mr. smartass know i’m a brat that loves to run her mouth?

@archurback4me | 1:28PM

Aside from you literally just proving my point by talking to me like this and your username being @bratgaIore?

Scrolled through your account a bit. Your captions tell me everything I need to know lol

Nice panties btw

Nice panties?

But you didn’t send him any photos of your…

Holy shit.

He scrolled far enough on your account to find the one indecent picture you posted months ago, a photo of you bent over in the mirror with your perky ass in the air, showcasing the small patch of slick that had leaked from your pussy, through the baby blue colored fabric.

Your face isn’t even in the picture nor are there any recognizable features but publishing photos of yourself on your porn account makes you nervous so you try to avoid it at all costs.

So, why the hell do you find yourself digging up the blue panties from the picture in your drawers right now? Stop!

What are you even doing?

You | 1:35PM

panties?

oh you mean these?

(You sent a photo.)

You can’t believe you just sent him a photo of you on your knees, camera placed behind you, angled at your ass with only the panties covering your buttcheeks and a slightly arched back. What the hell is wrong with you?

He didn’t even have to say or ask anything, you really just did that on your own accord. Are you insane? Since when do you do stuff like this?

@archurback4me | 1:37PM

Lmfao

Fuck lol yeah those

You’re fine as fuck lol

Did you take that just now? For me?

Fuck. Is it that obvious? Now you seem desperate.

You | 1:38PM

you wish

@archurback4me | 1:40PM

Lol. Barely exchanged 5 messages and you’re already driving me up the fucking wall

You | 1:41PM

i already told you no one can put up w me and i take pride in that 🫶

@archurback4me | 1:44PM

Oh, I’m not saying I can’t handle that smart mouth of yours

I’m saying I wanna fuck the shit out you lmao

Oh.

Okay.

Why are your thighs clenching and why is your pussy tingling?

You | 1:45PM

you think i’d let you?

@archurback4me | 1:47PM

You’d beg me babe

Fuck. He’s so fucking cocky. You can’t help but love everything he’s saying.

You | 1:48PM

you sound confident

@archurback4me | 1:48PM

I am. Are you chickening out after all that spewing?

You | 1:49PM

as if

He doesn’t respond for another while so you check his account. He has a new tweet.

‘I’m so fucking hard. Lol’

11 RTs. 54 likes.

Oh. Okay. That’s cool.

@archurback4me | 1:51PM

So, you agree that you’d let me?

You | 1:51PM

aren’t you being a little too cocky?

@archurback4me | 1:53PM

Lmfao

Don’t you like it?

Fuck. You do. You really do.

You | 1:54PM

maybe

but only because i’m cocky too

@archurback4me | 1:55PM

Yeah lol I can tell

And I’ll fuck it right out of you. Dumb girl

Ah, shit. He’s really getting to you.

You | 1:55PM

ur the dumb one 😒

@archurback4me | 1:57PM

Sure I am

For letting you run your mouth like this and not being able to show you the consequences

Already starting to piss me off

You | 1:58PM

good. i enjoy pissing men off. y’all don’t deserve to smile

@archurback4me | 2:00PM

LMAO

Ok you made me laugh

Only makes me wanna fuck your face more though

You | 2:02PM

but you won’t so there’s really no need to talk big game

@archurback4me | 2:03PM

Lmao

You | 2:03PM

what’s so funny i wanna laugh too

@archurback4me | 2:04PM

Nothing

I’m laughing ‘cause I don’t think anyone’s ever been able to piss me off solely through DMs before

You | 2:05PM

yeah well i’m not gonna keep repeating myself

@archurback4me | 2:07PM

Trust I’ll fuck the shit out of you one day. Dumb brat. Make you drool all over my dick like you’re fucking stupid

Damn. Damn. DAMN. You’ve never folded this easily over some sexts, what is he doing to you?

You | 2:09PM

and that day won’t be anytime soon so i’ll say whatever the hell i want in the meantime 😝

@archurback4me | 2:10PM

Lmao

Right

Are you alone right now?

You | 2:12PM

yep

why

@archurback4me | 2:12PM

No reason

Just been thinking about those panties since you showed them

You | 2:13PM

oh these?

(You sent a photo.)

You know you’re petty for sending him a picture of your middle finger but you couldn’t help it.

@archurback4me | 2:14PM

LMAOOOOO

Mannnn

I was excited too

You | 2:16PM

tell you what

i’ll give you another glimpse if you can prove your latest tweet to me

@archurback4me | 2:17PM

My latest tweet?

You | 2:17PM

yep

@archurback4me | 2:18PM

Ah. I see. Lol.

You don’t reply just yet, waiting to see if he takes you up on your offer. Or compromise, whatever you want to call it.

A few minutes of no interaction go by and you can only assume he might actually be doing it.

Then, your phone buzzes.

@archurback4me | 2:22PM

(🕷️🥀 sent a photo.)

Another lump forms in your throat as you tap the message, allowing it to show you the photo he sent you.

And holy fucking shit.

Low angle, hand gripping his massive boner through his grey sweatpants, tank top lifted to his belly button, happy trail leading down his toned abs and disappearing under the hem of his sweats.

@archurback4me | 2:22PM

Satisfied?

Fuck, you can’t even put into words how hot this is right now. You stare at the photo for a few minutes, your poor bottom lip swollen from how hard you’ve been chewing and sucking on it.

You immediately spread your legs, aiming your front camera right at your sex from a low angle—whilst making sure to keep your face out of it—and capturing the big wet patch on your pussy that proves your arousal at this moment.

You | 2:25PM

(You sent a photo.)

does this answer your question?

@archurback4me | 2:27PM

Damn you’re so

Lmao.

Lmfaooooiwannafuckyousobadooooo

You that wet from being called a dumb girl?

You | 2:27PM

LMAOOOO

but no. i’m that wet from pissing you off. dumbass

@archurback4me | 2:28PM

Yeah, you’re doing a great job at it.

But that’s okay

It’s great even. Keep running your mouth

You | 2:28PM

yeah?

@archurback4me | 2:28PM

Absolutely

Gonna be that much sweeter when I fuck you silly and you’re just gonna be a dumb cock hungry whore swearing you didn’t mean to say all that

You | 2:29PM

then you clearly don’t know me that well

@archurback4me | 2:30PM

You’re right I don’t

Tell me a bit about yourself, angel

Oh, shit. What do you tell him? How much do you say? How much do you keep private? You’ve never gotten to this stage in sexting, it’s usually just horrible questions about what you’re wearing and whether you’re wet. It’s never gotten to a personal stage before.

You | 2:32PM

hmm what do you wanna know?

@archurback4me | 2:33PM

Everything, princess. I’m a bit intrigued

I’d like to know all about you

Do you work? Study? What brings you to this side of Twitter?

Oh, that’s… surprising. You’d think he rarely gives the people in his DMs the time of day, you wonder what he finds intriguing about you. Is it really just the fact that you can get him so worked up without having to do much more than put your annoying mouth to use?

Maybe he has the same problems as you, boring fucking people in your DMs and now someone has come along that piques your interest. You’re relieved you piqued his interest as much as he did yours. Well, maybe not as much but enough to ask you about your personal life.

You | 2:35PM

i don’t really work or study. i have a degree in social work and my parents are currently in the process of building a school so i’ll be working there once it’s finished

and i came to this side of twitter because i’m horny as fuck lol

@archurback4me | 2:37PM

Ah, interesting

And yeah… I suppose that was a dumb question lol

You | 2:39PM

just now realizing that ur dumb? lol

@archurback4me | 2:39PM

Lol

Don’t piss me off

You ok w being called a slut and stuff right? I’ve seen you tweet about it before but still wanna make sure

You | 2:39PM

yeah i like it a lot when done right. thanks for making sure

@archurback4me | 2:40PM

No need to thank me for that

Is Angel your name?

You | 2:40PM

you can call me angel

@archurback4me | 2:40PM

I can but it doesn’t make sense to me

You | 2:40PM

wdym?

@archurback4me | 2:41PM

I mean that you’re a fucking brat and nowhere near angelic

You | 2:42PM

lol

well now i hope it stings you every time you call me angel

@archurback4me | 2:43PM

Lol

You’ve made me so fucking hard

I can’t stand you

You | 2:43PM

lol

ur a bit easy

@archurback4me | 2:43PM

Coming from miss idk-you-but-don’t-spread-pics-of-my-necklace-aka-your-hand

You roll your eyes and chuckle, moving your camera downwards and recording as you push your panties to the side. You drag your finger up your wet slit and slowly pull it away, showing the camera just how wet you are when the string of slick stays connected to your fingers as you pull them away from your sex.

You rewatch the video a few times, eyes glued to the way your fingers slide your panties to the side to reveal your bare pussy to the camera. With your pussy glistening under the sunlight, it looks quite mesmerizing. Your teeth pick at the inside of your cheek as you add it to your message.

You | 2:48PM

lol touché

but i never said i wasn’t easy

look where it’s got me

(You sent a video.)

The jolt of electricity traveling up your spine can only be described as your heart skipping a beat. You can’t believe you just did that. Sure, you’ve sent inappropriate photos before, but you’ve never actually sent anyone nudes. Not anyone that wasn’t your romantic partner, at least.

You watch in silence as the typing bubble pops up and then disappears. Fuck. You wonder what he wants to say.

Several minutes pass. Shit, did you overstep?

You get up from your couch to get yourself a cold drink in hopes it’ll cool you down but after chugging the entire can of soda, you realize nothing is going to help you right now.

Fuck. Why are you panicking? Calm down. He’s just–

Your phone buzzes.

@archurback4me | 2:58PM

(🕷️🥀 sent a video.)

@archurback4me reacted to your video with ‘❤️’!

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

He’s full on stroking his rock hard dick, precum oozing from the tip, shaft wet and lubed up. Fuck. It’s so fucking hot.

You can’t help yourself as you jog to your room, jumping onto your bed and ditching your panties as you do.

You start pumping your fingers into your drenched pussy while watching the video, your own touch not doing enough for you. You wish he was here, ready to pound you for hours on end.

You click the voice memo option and hit record, holding your phone near your pussy as you start deliberately fucking your fingers into your sex faster to create the loud squelching sound as you try to keep yourself from moaning in the background but to no avail, you’re pretty sure a few faint moans can be heard in the voice memo but you don’t care. You’re so fucking turned on and it’s his fault.

Your thumb trembles as it hovers over your keyboard but just as quickly, your thumb slams down on the send button and you toss your phone to the side.

Ugh, what an odd feeling. This is weird.

Your teeth anxiously go on a rampage by tearing the loose flesh around your nails clean off your fingers as you await his response. He probably has multiple people in his DMs sending him these types of things, why would yours stand out?

But just like clockwork, your phone buzzes.

@archurback4me | 3:09PM

Are you trying to fucking kill me

What the fuck

You | 3:10PM

just now realizing that?

ur not very bright are you

@archurback4me | 3:10PM

Lmao

You’re gonna regret talking this much shit

You | 3:11PM

threatening me with a good time?

surely you can do better than that

@archurback4me | 3:11PM

Lmfaoooo

I’m looking forward to fucking all that brattiness out of you

Corrupt you and use you as I please

Dumb fucking girl

You | 3:11PM

me too

but unfortunately ur all talk no action

@archurback4me | 3:12PM

LMAOOO you’re actually pissing me off

Gonna be thinking about you whenever I’m fucking someone now

And it’s all your fault

You | 3:12PM

LOLLLL

good

you should be thinking about me

@archurback4me | 3:12PM

Lol

Of course you would say that

Brat

You | 3:12PM

sorry

can’t help it if you make me feel special

@archurback4me | 3:13PM

How am I making you feel special

You | 3:13PM

telling me no one has ever pissed you off like this and we’ve just started talking

i told you i take pride in that

@archurback4me | 3:14PM

For fucks sake

You’re so annoying

Kinda reminds me of someone I know

You | 3:15PM

lol hope they’re sexy like me

yes i quite literally told you that all the way at the start

@archurback4me | 3:15PM

Lol

But people say it often

But they don’t turn out to be annoying like they claim

Just loud and boring

You actually being annoying makes me wanna literally fuck it out of you lol

You | 3:15PM

now you’ve got me giggling

@archurback4me | 3:15PM

You like the idea of being fucked to the point of breaking, right?

Apologizing for running your mouth while you’re sobbing and drooling all over me and your pillows

Like a proper stupid girl

You | 3:16PM

sounds like a dream come true

but it won’t happen so

@archurback4me | 3:17PM

I’m a freelancer so I’m usually free but my schedule is always full around this time of year

We can meet in a few weeks if you’re up for it. I’ll fly out to wherever you want me to

You | 3:16PM

interesting

what do you do for work?

if ur ok w sharing

@archurback4me | 3:16PM

Photographer

You | 3:16PM

ouuuu

gonna take pics of me when you’ve ruined me properly?

@archurback4me | 3:17PM

If you allow me

You | 3:17PM

hmm

okay

deal

@archurback4me | 3:18PM

Finally not a smartass answer

You | 3:18PM

ur right 🤔

lemme change that real quick

shut up freak

Suddenly, he types and then stops. It makes you wonder whether you said something wrong. You keep rereading your last few messages. Did you?

@archurback4me | 3:22PM

Infuriating little brat

Pissing me off

Anyway

I’m gonna go walk my dog but thanks to you I have to go fuck my hand first

Don’t miss me too much

I’ll talk to you later. x

You | 3:22PM

okay

send me a vid of you fucking my necklace

aka a vid of you masturbating

lol jkjk

i’ll try not to miss you

@archurback4me | 3:23PM

Lmaooo

Oh? 2 non-smartass answers back to back

You’re already breaking for me and I haven’t done anything

You | 3:24PM

piss off loser

go walk your dog

@archurback4me | 3:25PM

Watch your mouth Angel

I will

Talk to you later

You | 3:26PM

sorry sir

baiii

You put your phone down and can’t help but smile widely, lips twitching at its corners as you try to stop yourself from getting…too excited.

Because then it dawns on you.

You still don’t know his name.

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

— follow me on twitter and instagram for free exclusive content like sneak peeks, scrapped content, brain storming and to better interact with me ♧♡

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these idols waited until hobi enlisted to start all these dance challenges tho....

HEARTBREAKING: Poor girl has to get out of the soft warm bed even though she is so so so so comfy

today’s ao3 experience

In Soft Hands | Part 1 (Mingyu)

Rating/Genre: M18+, strangers to friends (idiots) to lovers, rom-com vibes; fluff, smut (in part two), angst Pairings: SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f), mentions of Joshua, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan Warnings: Mentions of having/raising kids, parenting, having a family/wanting to be a parent, that sort of stuff, like he’s SUCH a family man, so much fucking cuteness with a 4-year-old kid, kid tears from another kid hitting, SLOW burn!!!, Mingyu is called Daddy but it’s because he’s literally a father (not used during sexy times), reader is shorter/overall smaller than Mingyu, reader is called ‘ma’am’ playfully/teasingly, ugh this Mingyu is such a dilf in like the most wholesome way!!, future explicit smut (size kink, choking, etc)! Word Count: 16.5k Summary: You've sworn off dating. But your favourite kid at your work has the hottest dad in the entire world. A bit of harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right?

A/N: Part one of two (both are up!)! There's no smut in this part but please stick with me here, ok? It'll be worth it!! If you don't like kids, you probably won't like this - so I'd recommend skipping it!

You aren’t supposed to have favourites. But it’s hard not to when Marco comes over, holding up his indiscernible lego creation proudly to show you, his sweet toothy smile and bright eyes making you melt as they do every single day you come into work.

It doesn’t make sense. There is no reason for you to feel so connected to this kid, this four-year-old with big, brown almond-shaped eyes and the cutest little nose.

But on the first day you’d set foot into the daycare, he’d given you the brightest smiles, calling for you to watch what he was doing – whether it be running or jumping or climbing up the slide – and looking over at you to make sure the new teacher was watching, making you feel welcome even in all your anxieties. Already, you felt like his favourite. 

So, having him wiggle his way inside your heart doesn’t feel all that weird. Not really. How could it when he seems so happy to have you there each day to play with?

Running up to you to get you to growl and reach out for him like any good monster would, him squealing and running away just to come back again five seconds later. Sending you a goofy face from across the classroom when he randomly looks up from the toys he’s playing with among his friends. 

Laying, eyes closed, totally still, when you go around to tuck each of them in at naptime but breaking into a wide smile when you gently poke his side and tease him for pretending to be asleep already.

It’s halfway through your third week of work when Marco comes over to you with tears welled up in his eyes. There’d been some pushing and occasionally a kid falls while running and needs some comforting. But seeing his normally happy face all crumpled is completely heart-breaking. 

“What happened?” you say gently, opening your arms quickly for him to run into and immediately wrapping soothingly around him, a hand rubbing gently over his back. 

“M–M– Mila hit me!” he gets out between sobs, pulling back slightly to point in the direction he’d come from.

You look over his shoulder where a few kids are standing a couple metres away, Mila being one of them. You call her over and she comes, expression solemn, while you continue to hold Marco, asking him where it hurts, taking a look at his head where he points, caressing softly over it with your thumb. 

“Mila, did you hit Marco?”

“No, I punched him!” she responds, tiny fist flying through the air for emphasis, the hard plastic toy still in her hand. It’s almost funny, the way she says it so fervently, but she’s absolutely old enough and smart enough to know better.

Not to mention that Marco’s not a hitter. He’s rambunctious and full of energy, a goofball, sometimes an excitable mess, but you haven’t seen him hurt anyone in all the hours you’ve spent with these kids.

It’s not a big enough thing to write a report on – that’s reserved for real injuries or accidents. But the behaviour needs to be addressed with Mila’s parents and it’s also important to let Marco’s parents know as well. 

And because you were the one to deal with it on the playground, the other teachers decide to let you try handling it.

So, you stay a bit later that day. By 4:30pm, there’s no more than ten kids left and by 5:00pm, Marco is one of four.

Soaking in the gorgeous weather, you wait with one of the other class teachers and the last few kids on the fake grass next to the playground, close to the gate where the parents come for pick up. 

While two of the them play with a ball back and forth and the one girl braids and unbraids Ashley’s hair over and over, Marco and you are play-fighting, him giggling away as he tries to knock you onto your back on the grass, only to screech when you easily toss him off or roll him to the side and scoot away as if trying to escape. You make a show of it, anything you can do to make him laugh harder, make his smile wider as he comes back, launching himself at you with a growl.

He finally relaxes – both of you giggling as you breathe heavily from the exertion – and he just lays on you for a second. Then he lifts his head to look at you, cracking up when you do the same simultaneously, shooting him a silly face. And that’s when you hear Ashley’s voice.

“Marco, look who’s here!”

You both turn your heads to the gate, but you can’t yet see who’s approaching on the other side. “Go get your water bottle,” you tell him.

The boy scurries off you, heading to do just that, then waits at the gate, eyes focused on the parent who has come to pick him up. 

You pull yourself off the ground too, attempting to fix your dishevelled shirt and the way your hair is now surely tangled and crazy at the back of your head. You always leave work somewhat of a mess after running around with them all day. 

But as you approach the gate and see Marco’s dad… Well, you sort of wish that wasn’t the case. You can’t doubt for a second that the young man standing in front of you is the child’s father. Perhaps uncle but even then, they look so much alike that those would need to be some strong genes. 

“Hi!” you say quickly, praying you don’t appear as blown away by how gorgeous he is as you are. “Marco had a great day.”

“Oh, good,” the man says warmly, smiling down at the boy as he reaches to touch his hand where it grabs onto the fence.

You usher Marco back so you can unlatch it and let him out then you lean against the pole so there’s no space between you and the open gate for any other kids to squeeze through. “I do want to let you know though that there was a little incident today.”

He steps closer, a bit concerned, a large hand gently pressed to the top of Marco’s head, making sure he stays nearby. 

“One of the other children got a bit rough with him and hit him on the head, so you might notice…” You bend down, Marco’s big eyes following you as you reach for his head and push back the soft brown strands on his forehead to reveal a little bump. “There’s a bit of a bump. We just put some ice on it and he calmed down quickly but wanted to let you know,” you explain.

“Ok, ok…” he says, nodding as well as he looks at the mark and then down at Marco’s face that was now smiling up at him. “He certainly seems ok now,” he says with a little chuckle, mirroring Marco’s smile, and just proving their relation in how similar it is. Oh god, they are so adorable. 

“Yeah, no, we had a lot of fun the rest of the day. I just didn’t want you to worry if we didn’t point it out to you.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks,” he says, meeting your eyes again and making you vibrate a little with how kindly he’s looking at you. “You’re the new teacher?”

“That’s me, yeah,” you reply quickly, a little embarrassed though you don’t know why. You just feel a little flustered, and you can only blame it on the fact that this man is terribly good-looking, tall and broad with a devastatingly attractive face. And somehow with all that, he also just has the softest energy to him. In how he looks at Marco, in how he looks at you, completely friendly and at ease. 

“Teacher Y/N, right? Marco’s mentioned you,” he says before turning to the boy and bending to pull him swiftly up into his arms, his legs easily finding their place on either side of his dad’s torso. “Haven’t you, buddy? You have fun playing with Teacher today?”

“Yeaaah,” he replies, playing with the collar of his dad’s shirt and nodding his head. 

“I had fun too, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll play some more, ok?”

With that, the man adjusts the boy on his hip, taking a small step back. “Ok, thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow. Say bye!” he ushers to Marco, waving his hand, having his mini-me quickly follow suit. 

You keep your eyes on them as you step back, still smiling, and close the gate, beginning to wave as well as you call out another goodbye to Marco. It‘s only once you turn that you let your face show what you were really feeling, eyes widening at Ashley, your mouth dropping slightly open.

“What?” she asks, almost concerned, one child behind her and the other two now in front of her playing with the toy trucks in a pleasantly subdued manner for once. 

“Oh, nothing,” you quickly recover, though you can’t help the way you begin to laugh at yourself.

“Oh, Mingyu,” she says, her voice dropping lower in understanding. “Yep, I feel you on that.” She chuckles when you nod a little too aggressively as you come closer. 

“You weren’t going to warn me about that one or…?” you tease as you plop down next to them, giving the tiniest bit of sass to your colleague.

She laughs again. “Honestly, I didn’t think about it. I forgot that you haven’t met some of the parents yet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you brush off. 

“Shall I switch you to the later shift permanently?” She’s joking. You know she is. But also, you don’t hate the idea. 

When you look at her in a way that gives your thoughts away, she laughs for a third time. 

“I can if you want! I wouldn’t mind having the 8:30am shift instead.”

“Are you serious? We can’t switch just so I can talk to the hot dad,” you say with an embarrassed chuckle before immediately covering your mouth, remembering you’re still in the vicinity of children. With ears.

“It’s fine,” she plays off, glancing down at them. “They’re not listening. And yes, we absolutely can. You know they’re not together anymore?”

“What?”

“Marco’s parents.”

The thought should not make you happy. Not at all. Someone's divorce is not something to be happy about. But that man – that man – is single?

“Seriously?” you reply, a little quietly, a little awkwardly. Probably overcompensating for how much you don’t want to seem excited about the information. 

“Yup,” she says smugly before beginning to pull herself up. “Ok, Olivia. Mommy’s here, go get your water.”

You stare at the grass for a moment, feeling the delayed butterflies that you hadn’t let yourself feel five minutes earlier when he’d been standing in front of you. It’s a ridiculous thought either way – you spoke for all of one minute. But damn, he just seemed so nice? You could use more nice in your life.

-

Starting the following week, you're on the later shift, the one responsible for staying until the last pick-up and making sure things are in order for the next day before heading home. You’re actually impressed with yourself for how much you have not thought about Marco’s dad all day – you don’t feel right calling him Mingyu, not even in your mind, seeing as he hasn’t actually introduced himself to you. 

Much like every other day, Marco comes flying over to you when you arrive, showing you his new shoes that light up and asking if you like them. Of course, you do. What could be cuter than a giggling, stomping 4-year-old peering up at you, waiting for your approval? 

At lunch time, he says thank you when you give him more pasta. The kids barely ever say thank you. You thank him back for using his manners. 

It’s another beautiful day so you take the kids outside to play the whole afternoon. Marco asks you to play hide and seek, his innocent little pouty face looking around to the other kids when you tell him to go find some others who want to play it too. 

He hurries off, cutely asking each friend if they want to play then coming back to you when he’s corralled a handful of them. You count. He always wants you to count. So he and the other kids can squeal when you “find” them in one of the six mildly decent hiding spots around the playground, cackling with laughter when you thrust your hand into their hiding spot and find an arm or a leg to grab and wiggle.

The same four kids are still there at 5:00pm. But it isn’t Marco who is picked up next. Then there are three. Then two. 

Then it’s almost 5:30pm and Marco’s still there. It’s actually a little awkward. 5:30pm is the pick-up deadline and anyone picking up after that has to pay a late fee for going over. And you aren’t exactly wanting to be the one to remind Mingyu of this if he does come late. 

You don’t mind, however, hanging out with just Marco. You’re tossing a huge inflatable ball back and forth, making him laugh each time you intentionally bop him on the forehead, his arms too slow to register to catch it before it hits him. You figure he’s going to get the hang of it one of these times but when it keeps playing out the same way, you decide he must just find it funnier this way. 

You don’t even notice his dad walking up. And when you do see him, one arm up, casually leaning against the fence as he watches over top of it, you feel wholly embarrassed again. You should’ve been watching for his arrival. 

“Sorry, I’m late!” he calls over through a broad smile once he sees you’ve noticed him. 

“Oh,” you sound before glancing down at your watch. 5:30pm on the dot. “You actually just scratched by,” you say, almost teasingly as you move to stand, keeping your hands out in front of you knowing the little goof is still going to throw the ball back at you despite the fact that you aren’t looking. You catch it and toss it away. “Look who’s here,” you say excitedly to him, much like you would a puppy, pointing then trailing after him as he runs to the gate. 

“Water,” you remind him, approaching the fence yourself and chuckling when he whizzes over to the picnic table where the kids know to keep their water bottles when the group is outside. 

As you look at the man who’s now standing fully (damn, how tall is he?), your chuckling ends but your smile stays, even when you try to hide it, bringing your lips together. “It was a good day,” you tell him easily as you click the lock on the gate open and swing it slightly so there is no longer fence between you, allowing Marco to come around. 

“Great. I’m glad to hear it.”

His voice is nice. Quite low and warm. It’s hard to imagine him disciplining a child. 

“I’m Mingyu, by the way. I realized I didn’t actually introduce myself properly yesterday,” he tosses out, bringing up his hand, prompting you to shake it with as much confidence as you can muster. You aren’t a particularly shy person but this man has some weird fucking spell cast on you. 

“Well, nice to officially meet you. It’s such a pleasure having Marco in the class,” you tell him, knowing that you can at least sound sure and genuine in a comment like that. 

“Yeah, he’s pretty sweet,” Mingyu replies, his fond gaze falling down to the boy as he ruffles his hair. “Thank you for playing with him so much. He tells me – god – every day about it. It’s always Teacher Y/N this and Teacher Y/N that…”

That makes you laugh. It also sort of makes your heart crack open a little bit too. “Aw, well…” you begin, letting out a bashful little laugh. “I enjoy playing with him too. He’s, uh… pretty special,” you finally admit, as casually as you can, trying not to sound too weirdly obsessed with this kid you’ve only known less than a month. You really don’t understand why you feel so connected to him. 

The way Mingyu looks at you confirms that he doesn’t think you are weirdly obsessed at all. In fact, he looks at you with what you could only call happiness mixed with a pinch of awe. Like maybe he can understand that Marco actually is special to you, even if it doesn’t make a lot of sense. 

It’s a disarming look, one that almost feels too sweet, too vulnerable for someone who has only met you twice. But then again, you feel strangely drawn to him after only having met him twice. Ok, who are you kidding – even after just the first time. 

So, is it that wild to assume he feels – dare you even consider it – drawn to you too? 

“He is,” he says softly, eyes sparkling with the love he has for his son. Then he clears his throat, breaking whatever trance he has you under to look down at Marco again. “Well, I won’t keep you any later than I already have. Sorry again. Got held up at work.”

“That’s alright, you made it,” you tell him – easy breezy. “Honestly, if you’re ever later, it’s not that much of a bother to watch him.” With that, you smile down at Marco, catching his eye and his cheesy grin, before looking back up. “I know the centre has the late policy and stuff, but I… yeah, I don’t mind.”

His eyes widen slightly before he chuckles. “I mean, of course, I would pay you. I’m not going to expect free childcare–”

“No, no, I know. I didn’t mean–”

He laughs again as he says: “No, I get it, I get it.”

“I just meant that I enjoy watching your son… so,” you shrug, a little smile on your lips as your face tries to cool down from all the flushing it’s doing. “If you need someone to watch him at any point, I can.” Another shrug. Yes. Good. Still easy breezy. 

“That’s… a really nice offer,” he says, seeming actually touched by it. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” It isn’t really ‘of course’. You wouldn’t offer for any of the other kids. Just for your favourite. 

“Well, if I wanted to take you up on that… how could I…reach you?” he asks with a tilt of his head, glancing down at Marco to check on him before meeting your eyes again. 

“Right. I guess… I guess you’d need my number for that,” you reply with another chuckle. Damn, you’re letting out a lot of shy flirty laughs. Ugh. 

“Here,” he says as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and quickly swiping to open up a blank contact for you. 

You put in your number, deciding at the last minute to put your name in as “Y/N 🍎”, hoping he’ll think it’s cute and not weird. 

“Ok, cool,” he says when his phone is safely back in his hand, locking it shut then meeting your eyes once more. “Well, then, I hope you have a good rest of your evening.”

“You too. Have a good night, Marco! See you tomorrow.”

They both smile widely at you as they head to their car, Marco letting out a long drawn out goodbye to you, stumbling over himself as he tries to look back to wave. 

You just laugh, waving back before closing the gate and locking it. 

And then, there are those damn butterflies again. 

-

The best part of your day is officially the end of the day. It would be regardless – getting rid of each little bugger one by one just makes your job easier late in the day. But now, every pick-up time includes a tall drink of water leaning over the fence, watching you play with the kids until you notice. You never know how long he’s standing there before your eyes meet, a beaming smile already plastered on his face every time, without fail. 

Sometimes the kids will notice a car pulling in or someone walking up. Other times, he might be standing there for a full five minutes, and you are none the wiser. The tendency to get wrapped up in playing with the kids, giving them your full attention, is definitely one of your strong suits as a teacher, but your awareness of other people could use some improvement. 

The little chats are always brief, a few sentences back and forth as you pass over supervision of Marco to his dad. It is nice, the fact that he is always one of the last kids to get picked up, if not the last. Nice that you guys can be a bit playful, give his son an extra compliment that really no other kid or parent should be hearing. 

It’s always very much friendly though. Not that you are expecting this mature, grown man to flirt with his child’s teacher. You aren’t at all. But the fact that the conversations stay really light, really surface-level definitely makes you consider the very real possibility that your crush is one-sided. 

Maybe it is. Maybe it is and that’s ok. Getting wrapped up with a student’s parent is a bad idea anyway. 

Still, erasing your attraction to him is out of the question. You just know that is out of your hands. The man is too lovely. 

When it’s been a couple weeks and he hasn’t texted you, you resign yourself to the child’s-teacher zone. Is that worse than the friend zone? Probably. Have you made a move yourself? No. Do you feel like you can without completely embarrassing yourself and putting yourself in a super awkward position if he rejects you? Also, no. 

Not to mention the fact that you don’t actually want something serious with someone. The end of your last relationship was painful to say the least, and ‘casual’ is the only thing you have the capacity for right now anyway. How would you explain that to him? That his kid’s teacher is just DTF? Yikes. 

-

It’s a whole three weeks of short pick-up time chats before you hear from him outside of the daycare, your phone ding-ing at 9:00am on a Saturday. 

Unknown: So what fruit do I get beside my name? 🤔 YN: Haha don’t think I know you well enough to be properly assigning fruits MG: Ah it has to be more natural huh? YN: Exactly YN: You just get Mingyu for now MG: Awww that’s so boring YN: lol MG: Ok fine MG: But for real… I need to ask a favour of you MG: You can absolutely say no. I don’t even know how serious you were about your offer but… MG: Are you busy this evening? I need someone to watch Marco for a couple hours and I know he would just be so excited if it was you MG: I know it’s so last minute

You really weren’t expecting this. As serious as you were about your offer, you didn’t think he’d actually take you up on it. Especially since it’s been a little while. But of course, your stomach is bubbling from just getting to text him. It feels wrong somehow. Inappropriate. But there is no rule about texting a kid’s parent. 

YN: Oh! I actually don’t have any plans today at all so I can definitely do that YN: Do you live in the area? MG: Ah that’s so great! Ok thank you so much MG: Yeah we’re only a few minutes away from the daycare actually YN: Ok cool :) MG: I’ll send you the address. Could you be here for like 6:30? Does that work ok? YN: For sure

He sends it. You recognize the street. And then, at 6:25pm, you’re pulling up to the house, driving around the cul-de-sac once before finding the right number. It’s cute – small, simple, nice. 

You feel nervous. You spent too long getting ready. To not spend time with him. You’re literally going to see him for one minute before spending the rest of the time with a four-year-old. A four-year-old that does not give a crap about what you look like. 

Even now, you spend a minute too long in the car before pulling yourself from the driver’s seat, up to the door, giving it a good solid knock. When he whips it open, button-up pulling across his chest, a pair of navy slacks covering long legs, you’re only slightly taken aback.

Why does he look like that? Damn, he looks hot all dressed up. But also, he’s… all dressed up. You can’t help where your mind goes. And you can’t help the sinking feeling it gives you.

“Hi! Come in, come in. Thank you so much for doing this,” he greets so happily, waving you in with his hand as he steps back, swinging the door open further to welcome you into the home. 

“Teacher?” a little voice chirps from another room before you hear little footsteps scurrying, getting louder by the second. 

Mingyu is already laughing, shutting the door behind you as he points to the little welcome mat where pairs of very big and very small shoes have been haphazardly kicked off. 

“Teacher! You’re at my house?”

“I’m at your house,” you confirm with a bright smile, slipping off your sandals, still holding the little stack of colouring books and pencil crayons you brought along with you to your chest. You definitely do think Mingyu has things for his son – obviously – but you still felt compelled to bring something. Just in case. And kids love shiny new stuff. Part of you just wants to see his face light up when he notices one of the colouring books is full of dinosaurs. 

“We made pasta… for you!”

So that’s what that delicious smell is. Your eyes widen a touch before flicking over to Mingyu who gives you a bashful smile and a shrug. 

“Here, come on in. I’ll show you around quickly, and then… yeah, I made some food. I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten before so you and Marco can have some for dinner,” he rambles as he walks down the hallway, hand finding the top of Marco’s head to usher him forward as you follow along. “I have no idea what you like so I apologize if you’re not a fan,” he explains, coming to settle by the stove, giving the finished pasta dish one more stir in its pan. 

“It smells great. I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” you dismiss his concerns quickly as you drop your goodies on the island, before glancing around the main floor, taking in the open plan of his kitchen and living area. The house is really cute, even homier inside. Not at all what you might expect from a guy in his (mid?) twenties. The kitchen’s decked out with a host of appliances, the living room cozy with blankets and pillows – and plenty of kids toys. 

“If you just want to pop whatever’s left in here, put it in the fridge. That’d be great,” he tells you, tapping the lid of a tupperware container, leaving it next to the stove. 

“Of course.”

“Thanks. And seriously, thank you so much for this. You’re really saving me here,” he repeats as he wanders closer before bending down to Marco’s height and focusing on the boy. “I gotta go, buddy. You listen to Y/N, ok? Be good, please.”

“We’ll be great,” you assure him warmly, leaning back against the counter as you watch him pull his son into a hug. “Right, kiddo? What should we do? You hungry now or do you want to play a bit first?”

“Play! Play!” he says excitedly, rushing over to you, completely forgetting about the dad who’s trying to say goodbye, to grab your hand and pull you into the living room, beginning to excitedly show you his various toys. 

You glance up, wide smile plastered on your face as you plop down next to Marco on the rug.

Mingyu just chuckles, shrugging as though he’s given up on trying. “You two have fun! I’ll be back before 10pm.”

“Sounds good,” you call back to him, lifting a hand in goodbye. And then he’s grabbing his phone off the counter and slipping back down the hall and out the door. 

The two hours before you put Marco down fly by. It’s very easy to be distracted by a hyperactive toddler, especially this one that just loves playing, chatting away with you. You have to tell him five times that, no, you can’t wrestle in the house, sometimes needing to actually hold him still so he’ll stop launching himself at you on the couch.

You can’t believe it when he actually goes down, thinking he’d be too revved up but you suppose all the excitement has worn him out. There’s not a peep from his room after you leave it, quietly closing the door behind you after tucking his sweet face in, then tip-toeing to the stairs, trying to keep totally quiet as you make your way back down to the living room.

It’s now, in the silence of Mingyu’s house, that you feel a wave of thoughts rush over you. Unfortunately, the primary one is the sucky feeling that he’s on a date. The man looks like a god and has the whole adorable dad thing to boot. And apparently, he can really cook? Of course he’s on a date. And from the sounds of things, perhaps he’s been trying to go out with this girl for a while. 

You don’t love it, the thought of his eyes lighting up as he looks at a pretty woman across the table from him. But you can’t really blame her, whoever she is. 

What happened between him and his ex-wife? Maybe your glasses are a little rose-tinted at this point (no doubt they are) but you have a hard time understanding someone breaking up with him. 

But what do you know? Your exposure to him has been extremely limited until tonight. Maybe he is actually awful. Maybe he’s a horrifically toxic partner. You don’t have the best track record for being able to see someone’s true colours. 

Part of you sort of wishes to find something wrong with him so you can stop being a love-sick puppy dog. And then again, part of you is just enjoying the excitement of a crush, the giddy feeling of being around someone you find really really attractive. Because it’s been a very long time. 

You clean up the living room, putting away the few toys and games that you didn’t get around to having Marco tidy before it had been time to bring him upstairs. Trying your best not to snoop, once everything is away, you settle into the corner of the couch with your phone, scrolling on various apps for a while until you figure that it’s perfectly reasonable to turn on the TV while you continue to wait for him to get home.

Marvel movies, K-dramas… It’s in the middle of judging his ‘Recommended For You’ on Netflix that you hear the door open and lift your head towards the hallway following the sound of the floor creaking under foot. A few seconds later, he’s poking his head around the corner and letting out a soft ‘hey’ in his gentle voice. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, not really sure how much the sound carries up. 

“How’d it go?” he asks as he opens the fridge, placing what seems like his leftovers inside. 

“Good. Really good,” you tell him, waving a hand to show what a breeze it was. “He went down at about 8:30pm.” It was a bit strange, putting him down in a real bed instead of the little cot at the daycare, but it was also sweetly familiar in a way, tucking him in, gently wishing him a good sleep as you always did.

“Ok, perfect,” he replies with the easiest smile as he comes over to lean his hand on the back of the couch. “You messing up my Netflix?”

“Messing up?” you counter, looking back over to the selections on the ‘Favourites’ carousel. “I don’t know about that. I was actually thinking that I was half-impressed by your taste. But maybe I’ll withhold that comment.”

“Oh, really?” He seems to enjoy that, nodding as he shifts to sit on the arm, bringing one socked-foot up to rest on the couch cushion. You have to try extra hard not to look at the way his pants pull over his thighs and groin. But putting his hips at eye-level like that? That’s just unfair. 

“Well, yeah. Interstellar’s the first thing that pops up. Kingsman, Spiderman… Tenet.” You continue to read off titles, letting the tone of your voice convey your opinion, though, for the most part, it’s positive. “Inception, too. You’re a Nolan guy,” you piece together, looking over at him, seeing his now pushed up eyebrows. 

“I am.”

“Ok, fine. You get the compliment then. These are a few of my favourites,” you admit.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you agree with a chuckle. “Interstellar is so good. But… actually, now that I’m looking.” You continue to click over further. “I’m disappointed to see The Prestige missing.”

He smiles wide before bringing a hand up to run through his hair. “I, uh, I actually haven’t seen that one. Or maybe I did a long time ago but I can’t really remember.”

“What?” you emphasize, personally offended that he’s a Nolan fan but hasn’t seen your all-time favourite. “Mingyu… you’ve got to be kidding.”

He’s laughing now. Sure, you’re playing up your offense a bit. But that is just wrong.

“The Prestige is… perfect. It’s masterfully-crafted in every way. Like, I know people talk about it somewhat but it is seriously underrated in comparison to his other films.”

“Ok, ok,” he replies defensively, his voice raising slightly in pitch as he lifts his hands. “I believe you, I do. I guess I’ll just need to watch it then. See if I trust your judgement.”

Why is everything he’s saying sounding a bit… flirty? Even though he’s not flirting. Surely, that’s just how he is.

“You do. That’s your homework assignment. Watch it and let me know what you think,” you tell him with a little laugh as you begin to stand up, flipping the remote around in your hand to pass it to him.

He receives it but keeps his eyes on you, smirking in a ridiculously adorable way. “Oh, a homework assignment, huh? Didn’t realize you were my teacher too.” 

Damn, so fucking flirty. 

You let out a bigger laugh, feeling a little embarrassed at how you’ve gotten yourself into this line of conversation as you walk back to the kitchen, finding your bag on the counter. “Can’t stop, I guess. Force of habit,” you explain sheepishly. 

He chuckles too as he follows you, both of you walking in step back down the hallway towards the front door. “So, what do I owe you?”

In your periphery, you can see him reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. It feels kind of weird, the idea of accepting money from him. You really had just enjoyed playing with Marco for a few hours. Something about that kid is so wonderful; you even find yourself missing him on weekends.

“Oh, honestly– it was only like a couple hours. It’s… it’s fine,” you get out, a bit awkwardly, a bit unsure whether refusing the money would just make it weird. 

“Y/N… I’m gonna pay you for your time,” he says with a sure nod, his voice lowering as if to say ‘come on’. “Especially if you don’t mind watching him again in the future, I really need you to take my money,” he says, beginning to laugh as he pulls out a couple twenty-dollar bills and thrusts them towards you. 

You look at his hand, then up at him, then back to his hand, tilting your head slightly as you sigh. “Fine. I guess you’re right,” you concede, gently taking the bills from him and sliding them into your wallet. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I’m sure Marco loved it.”

“He seemed pretty happy.”

“Makes sense,” he returns as you go to bend down, pulling your shoes back on your feet. “I appreciate it,” he adds before you have a chance to linger on what he just said. “Is it ok if I text you when I need a sitter again?”

“Absolutely. I mean it – it’s not a chore for me at all.”

“Ok,” he replies, his lips pressing into a warm smile as he pulls open the door and leans against it. 

“Ok, well, have a good night.” You step out onto his porch, turning around one more time to smile at him briefly before heading to your car. 

“You too! Get home safe.”

“I will!” you call to him before sliding into your front seat. You can see him still at his front door where he stays until you’ve backed out, sending you another wave as you pull away. 

-

“You won’t be happy with me.”

“Oh?” you ask, getting up from his couch to meet him at the island.

“I haven’t done my homework yet.” He sends you a teasing smile as he shrugs off his suit jacket, laying it neatly on one of the bar stools. It’s been almost two weeks since the last time you were at his house. This time he asked if you could watch Marco straight from the end of daycare. You agreed, quickly meeting them at the house once you finished up. The things you would do just at the thought of getting into Mingyu’s pants… 

Ridiculous.

You huff out a chuckle, bringing your arms to cross over your chest. “You’ve had plenty of time. What’s your excuse?”

“Would you believe me if I said I have a hard time getting into movies on my own?” He still holds that flirtatious smile but you think you can see a glimmer of shyness in how he’s looking away as he says it. How dare he look so sweet while dressed up looking like the most handsome date in the world. Not your date though. 

“Oh yeah? Started it and couldn’t get into it?” you ask, leaning forward onto the counter, bringing yourself just a little closer to him.

“Didn’t even start it honestly. I’m a terrible student.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Yeah, apparently.”

“Would you… want to watch it with me? It is only 9pm,” he suggests, glancing at his watch, his cool confidence suddenly back in place. 

God, this is a bad idea. There is no way you’re going to be able to hold yourself together for the next two hours – you seem to always become a blushy flirty mess around the 15-minute mark, which thankfully is around the time most of your past interactions have ended. 

But, obviously, you’re going to say yes. 

“You want to watch it tonight?”

“Only if you want to,” he says simply before turning to the freezer and pulling out a small carton of ice cream. “Can I bribe you with snacks?”

Yes. You love ice cream. But unfortunately, that’s not the thing you most want to be eating in this kitchen. 

“What kind you got?” you attempt to play it somewhat cool, nodding your chin towards the container. 

“Ben and Jerry’s? Half baked?”

You click your teeth then sigh through your smile. “Fine, I’m in.” As if it’s a big concession.

He laughs, scrunching up his nose way too cutely as he grabs two spoons from the drawer and the two of you settle onto his couch to watch, close enough to pass the ice cream back and forth.

“Ok, I must warn you though. I’m really annoying about this movie. Like if I’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up,” you say just as it’s starting. 

“I’m always the one talking too much during movies, so I really don’t think it’ll be a problem–”

Your hand grasps his thick forearm, interrupting. “The hats. Ok?” You look over at him, finger pointing to the TV. “You have to watch closely. There’s so many good little details.” Your head turns back to the TV, only vaguely registering that he’s still smirking at you for a moment longer before following your gaze.

“You weren’t kidding, eh?”

You start to giggle but then the narration is starting and he has to hear it. Whispering now: “Everything's a clue, ok? Don’t pay attention to me. Watch.”

He snorts another laugh, taking the ice cream out of your hand but keeping his eyes on the film. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your flush at the teasing name catches you off guard. Ma'am?

Then again, Mingyu could probably call you anything and you’ll be ok with it at this point. He could probably do anything and you’ll be ok with it at this point. That is how stupidly attracted you are to him. 

To your surprise, your unceasing commentary throughout, punctuated with satisfied groans at all the good reveal moments, doesn’t seem to deter him too much. He doesn’t even tell you to shut up once. Though you have to tell yourself to a few times – using spoonfuls of ice cream to keep your mouth full. It doesn’t really work. 

If anything, he may find it slightly endearing? It’s hard to tell when you’re too distracted finding all his reactions endearing, the way his eyes widen all innocently, his mouth dropping open slightly at the best part of the movie, when everything starts to click together like gears into place. 

Then he’s tapping your thigh repeatedly. “Holy shit. So, that’s…? And then he’s…?”

“Uh-huh,” you confirm with a nod as your gaze falls on him, enjoying watching him experience your favourite movie way too much. He looks just like Marco right then as his mouth begins to turn up into the biggest awestruck smile. 

“Pretty fucking good, huh?” is the first thing you said as the credits began. Finally, you could prove your point. And, you have to admit: this is much more fun than him just telling you he liked it.

“Oh my god,” he says with a little laugh, bringing his hand up to his forehead. “Ok, yeah. Fair enough. It’s definitely up there with his other ones.”

“Right? I told you. Underrated.” You collapse back into the couch.

“Well, thank you very much for introducing me,” he leans back too, motioning towards the scrolling white font on the screen. 

“Proud of you for getting your homework done. Even if it did take… a little bit of tutoring,” you joke.

“I had a very helpful tutor,” he replies with a shrug. “I owe it all to her.”

Then you’re both chuckling, gazes falling down, both maybe a little embarrassed at how lame you’re being. But, hey, he’s playing along. It’s cute. 

“I suppose I should head out,” you tell him, only half-able to mask the hesitancy in your voice. 

“Yeah– yeah…” he agrees quickly as if being shaken out of his thoughts by your movement. And then you’re both walking together to the door again, him pulling out his wallet and popping the few bills into your open purse, completely skipping any resistance to it. 

You let it happen, just smiling a little at him for a moment before shaking your head and bending to put on your shoes. 

“Thank you. Can’t wait to hear all about how Teacher Y/N is his favourite person to play with in the morning.”

Aww – as if that isn’t supposed to melt your heart? “Oh, stop it. You’re his hero,” you assure as you pull your bag over your shoulder. 

“I swear I’m being replaced.”

“Not my fault that I make a really good dinosaur.”

That must not be what he’s expecting from the chuckle he lets out. “Are you saying I’m not a good dinosaur? You know, I resent that.”

Now you’re giggling, unable to help it when he pouts like that. With a shrug, you open the door, stepping down carefully before turning back to him. “Thanks for the ice cream.”

“You’re very welcome. Better that I don’t eat the whole thing alone honestly.”

“You have a four-year-old.”

“Yeah, but some things need to just be for the adults, ok?” he rationalizes, coming to lean against the door frame, his long limbs allowing him to span across the whole thing. 

“Very true,” you agree with a firm point towards him. “Well, I’m always down for adult ice cream.” About a millisecond after you say it, you regret it, your eyes falling closed as your cheeks push up into an awkward winced smile. “That… sounded weird.”

He giggles cutely, looking down at his feet. “I gotcha.”

“Ok,” you say softly, laughing once more before heading down his steps, looking over your shoulder at him once more. “Goodnight.”

“Drive safe.”

“Always do!” 

Another gorgeous smile from him is imprinted on your mind, leaving you thinking about him the whole way home. 

-

“You going to the fair?”

“There’s a fair?”

“A fruit festival. And it looks like you have no excuse to not come along,” he says, glancing to the empty playground. 

“Hm… you got me,” you reply, your voice dropping lower as you nod with a little smile.

“Come with us.”

“Ok. Just let me take out the garbage and I’ll come to meet you.”

As soon as you arrive, it’s not hard to spot them; Mingyu is 6’2 and, well, him. Marco already has cotton candy stuck in and around his mouth as you approach, catching both their eyes and earning two perfect smiles. 

“Didn’t waste any time, huh?” you ask, obviously referencing the way Marco is stuffing another huge bite of cotton candy into his mouth.

Mingyu leans in a bit, one hand still lightly touching the top of his son’s head to keep tabs. “Don’t tell anyone, ok? But… I’m kind of a pushover.”

You feign your surprise, the only shocking part about the revelation actually being the fact that he’s outright telling you as much. “Noo,” you let out in a sarcastic little gasp, which has him lightly bumping into you with his elbow, a pouty little smirk making its way across his face.

“Hey, I’m not too bad,” he clarifies but it’s still a bit whiny and you literally have to refocus your eyes on Marco because you’re sure that it’s written all over your face just how cute you find him. 

“What’s the plan, kiddo? What are we riding first?”

He doesn’t answer for a second, seemingly ignoring you as he looks around the fair, taking in the slowly growing crowd of people as everyone gets off work. But then he’s grabbing your hand in his and pulling you in the direction of the kiddy rollercoaster, looking back at you for a moment to give you a big purple-toothed grin. 

“I guess we’re going this way,” you say over your shoulder, checking to make sure Mingyu is following. And he is, chuckling and shaking his head at the way Marco’s about to rip your arm off. 

-

“Want some peach?” you ask, spearing a slice onto your fork, making sure to get a bit of the crust and whipped cream all together.

“Who’s peach?” he asks, turning his head from watching Marco bouncing literally off the walls of the bouncy castle. After a mere second, there’s that pleased little smirk as he looks over, taking in your slightly surprised expression.

All you can do is roll your eyes and try not to show your fluster as you hold out your fork. “Still vying for that fruit emoji, huh?” you tease, pushing the bite into his open mouth just a tiny bit more forcefully that you normally would.

He chuckles as he chews, beginning to shake his head before any words can come out. “I didn’t even think about that, honestly.”

Just as you’re about to express your doubt, you hear Marco excitedly shrieking, a sound all too familiar. “Teacher! Teacher! Watch me. Watch this!”

Unable to ignore him, you step closer, taking your own bite and watching through the netting as he does what can only be considered a belly flop onto the inflatable floor, immediately beginning to get jostled around by the other kids jumping. 

“Wow… Look at you,” you sound out as best you can. Your pretend fascination with kids’ skills is well-trained but a little overused; you decide to offload. “Mingyu. Come look at your son,” you say, turning with a cheeky grin, finding his close-lipped smile, tan arms crossed sinfully across his chest, before he drops the pose and comes a little closer to watch Marco do the same jump for the sixth time. 

He laughs. “Wow, buddy. Don’t hurt yourself though. Don’t want you to get stepped on,” he urges gently, his hands gripping onto the netting as he leans closer to look in. 

Your gaze jumps between them, too endeared by the giant man softly cooing caring words to the four-year-old.

His gentleness with his child is quickly becoming the most attractive thing about him. And, considering everything, that is very dangerous. 

-

MG: Is there any chance that you’re free tomorrow night? YN: There’s a chance YN: What’s up? You need my services?

Why? Why did you say that? Can you not play it cool for two freaking messages?

MG: Haha not exactly MG: Wanted your opinion on some recipes MG: My toddler’s palette isn’t the most refined lol

You stare at your screen for a whole minute, unsure what he’s talking about, unsure what you might be agreeing to. But you know there’s no chance of you saying no, even as you sit there, knee bouncing anxiously, trying to decide what to reply with.

YN: I could do that YN: Though I can’t promise a very refined palette either lol YN: I’ll do my best MG: Ok perfect MG: Want to come here around like 7? YN: Sure! MG: Come hungry :) 

Oh, you will. 

-

It’s only when you’re driving over that it sinks in that Marco might not be there. Mingyu is not hiring you as a sitter. No, he’s inviting you over to actually spend time with him. Which is enough to process on its own. But it’s only once the question of Marco springs up in your mind that you start to stress – is it a date? Are you an idiot for not realizing it? Or are you an idiot now for even considering that that’s what he was intending?

You still have no idea if he’s seeing someone. You saw him off on those two evenings, looking too incredibly fine to be doing anything but trying to impress. But also, you’re convinced he’s being flirty with you, even though your brain tries to psych you out every time, telling you it's not true. 

“Hi – come on in.” He answers the door in a t-shirt tucked into some nice fitting denim and a smile. While it isn’t at the level of things he’s gone out in, it does make you breathe a sigh of relief at your quite casual outfit, even if it does mean you’ll have to stare at his arms and thick thighs all night. 

As you step inside, he stays close, making small talk with you as you remove your shoes and follow him in, finding the house seemingly empty apart from him. 

“I may have taken your instructions too seriously. I’m starving,” you say playfully as you slide onto the closest island stool, watching him return to the stove where it looks like he’s been practically preparing a feast. It smells wonderful. Especially with your incredibly basic cooking skills leaving you with lazy meals most nights when you get home. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replies and even facing away, you can hear his smile.

“It’s a good thing too, it looks like. How many people are coming tonight?” you tease.

He chuckles as he whips over to the fridge, grabbing a last-needed ingredient. “Well… I hope you don’t mind if it’s just us two. Marco’s with his mom this weekend.”

The way your heart rate speeds up tells you that it’s exactly what you want to hear. But does that make it a date? 

“Oh. I didn’t even realize that you… shared custody.”

“Yeah, every other weekend he’s over there. Comes back Sunday evening.”

You hum a little, nodding your head, wanting to ask more but not being sure if you should. Being curious would be normal though, for anyone. “Is she nearby?”

“Yeah, only like a 25-minute drive so… Not too bad,” he says casually, glancing over his shoulder at you before returning his gaze to finish plating up what seems to be an appetizer. 

“That’s good,” you say breezily, leaning back as he comes closer to slide a dish in front of you. “That he gets to see her.”

“Yeah, it seems to work well for all of us. … Dig in,” he urges, looking back at you to nod to your plate.

“Are you not joining me?”

“So needy,” he teases gently, surprising you a little, then he’s shooting you another too-pretty smile. “This needs just another minute.”

You shake your head, training your eyes on the delicious-looking food, probably failing miserably at keeping your cool. As he finishes up, you take your first bite, even more impressed than the last time he fed you. “Oh my god. So, wait, you actually, like, cook? For real?”

“What – you thought I was just a hot dad?” he smirks, cleaning up the edge of the plate with a napkin like a damn professional.

You snort in an attempt to cover up your fluster. “I mean, now you’re just a hot dad that cooks so…” you trail off, unsure how to get out of this terribly flirtatious area. “Pretty sure that’s even worse.”

He chuckles as he comes around the island, slipping in next to you, and bringing his feet up onto the footrest immediately despite the way his legs are too long to bunch up properly under the overhang. “I, um… I actually just got hired at a new restaurant that’s opening in the fall. As a chef. Hence, me wanting to try out new recipes on you.” He’s suddenly shyer, less cheeky as he motions to the counter full of food. 

You can feel your face brighten at the words and especially at how he seems genuinely happy to share the information, underneath the bashfulness. “Oh, wow. Congrats. That’s so cool! … And makes a lot more sense as to why you’re so damn good at this,” you say, pointing down at the dish with your empty fork.

“You like it?” he asks hopefully, gentle eyes studying your face as you take another bite and nod enthusiastically. “Good, good.”

“How did I not know you’re a chef?”

“Because I’m a carpenter,” he says, words tumbling out with a laugh. “The food thing is more like a long-standing dream…”

You blink at him, a little more surprised, a little more impressed, smile pressing onto your lips. 

“What?” he asks, swallowing down a bite. 

“Nothing. That’s just– so exciting for you. … I’m excited for you.”

He gives you a warm smile. “Thank you.”

-

The problem with Mingyu is that he is so much more than hot. And as much as you should’ve known that from the beginning, it didn’t sink in soon enough. And now, it’s entirely too easy to see him as more than a guy you want in your bed. 

Even as you make your way over to the couch, curling up in one corner while he finishes putting away a few things into the fridge, you find yourself dreading when it’ll be time for you to go. He makes you feel all warm and fuzzy in a way that you haven’t felt in…years. 

“What are we watchin’?” he asks, nestling in one cushion over from you, legs coming up under him as he grabs a blanket and tosses it over the two of you. 

“You’re letting me pick?”

“I’m nice like that.”

“Pushover,” you mutter teasingly as you grab the remote, beginning to flick through.

He clicks his teeth, letting his head drop back against the couch in exasperation. 

“Anything I want?”

“Not if you’re going to be mean to me,” he plays back, letting his head fall to the side to look at you. The sudden urge to lean over and kiss him is strong. And terrifying. Why does he have to look at you like that?

“How much are you going to hate it if I choose this?” you ask, trying to refocus on your task at hand. 

He lifts his head, finding “The Holiday” thumbnail outlined by the cursor, then smirks a little before glancing at you with raised eyebrows. 

“Isn’t that a Christmas movie? It’s the middle of summer.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. And it’s not like there’s some rule anyway.”

He just motions his hand towards the TV as if to say ‘go ahead’, plopping back into his cushion. 

You giggle before giving in: “Ok… we can find something else–”

“Put it on, Y/N,” he prompts, making you smile widely as you click into it. Most rom-coms are not exactly cinematic masterpieces but something about The Holiday gets you every single time. 

As soon as the narration starts, Kate Winslet’s lovely voice going on about love, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake. Why would you choose to watch a love story with a man that makes you this giddy? Rookie mistake. 

You wiggle down into your corner, tugging the blanket closer around you as a protective barrier. At least when Jude Law’s handsome face is on the screen, it provides a form of distraction. 

“That’s why you wanted to watch this?” he asks, making you realize only then that you’re smiling at the screen.

Your eyes fall closed, defence on the tip of your tongue, but after a moment you just shush him, refocusing on the TV with a grin. 

“Is that what you’re into?” he continues to bug you.

“What? Charming? Sweet? Sexy?”

“Oh, wow,” he scoffs, face lighting up into a smile as he turns a little more in his seat to face you. 

You shove at his shoulder in return, attempting to direct him back to the TV. “Stop it. Come on, you cannot tell me that that isn’t a dreamy man.” When you raise your hand, he finally looks back over with you just as the two on the screen are leaning into a soft kiss. 

He watches for a moment then you can see in your periphery as he turns his head back towards you. “Not exactly my type,” he admits with a little laugh. “But I’ll give it to you.”

You shake your head once more, a habit you can’t stop every time he’s playful with you. Which seems to be every other second. 

For a minute, you think you’re past it but then the kiss just grows more sensual, his hands pushing back into Cameron Diaz’s hair, and you can feel yourself flushing hot – twice as much too, knowing that he’s watching your reaction. 

Mingyu lets out a laugh but when you turn your head to glare at him, he presses his lips together as if trying his best to suppress it, shaking his head ‘no’ and motioning you back to the TV.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter through your uncontainable smile, refusing to look at him anymore. “Pay attention.”

“I am paying attention!”

Through a good chunk of the movie, he does seem to be paying attention… right up until it’s revealed that the love interest is actually a single dad, and you can feel his eyes land on you again. 

You lift your head from where it’s resting to peer at him curiously. Oh, he looks too pleased with himself. 

“Single dads, huh?”

Your jaw drops open first but then your eyes are quickly rolling as you pull the pillow from beside you to whap him with it. 

“Ok, ok–” he gets out through battered chuckles, his arms shooting up to attempt to block your hits. “I’ll stop. I promise.”

“You better. You invite me over here just to tease me the whole time,” you complain.

“Seriously, I’ll stop, I’m sorry. I’m just being a shit,” he says, continuing to shake his head then turning to stare back at the screen.

You side-eye him for another moment before looking back to the cute giggling children on the TV.

“Are you a hopeless romantic?” he asks, garnering your gaze once again. “Is that why you chose this?”

A little breath of amusement comes out of you. “Not exactly. Actually… kind of the opposite now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I guess I’m just a little jaded from… past stuff,” you explain nonchalantly, unsure how much he is open to hearing, and especially unsure how much you are comfortable sharing. But then again, if you’re going to continue to flirt mercilessly with each other then you suppose he deserves to know a bit more.

“Ah, ok. That’s fair,” he says gently. “I suppose we’re all a little messed up from our pasts.” 

“Yeah. So, love isn’t really in the cards for right now.”

“Not at all?” he asks, his brows lifting slightly though you’re trying not to look at him too closely, using the ongoing movie as an excuse.

“I don’t think so. … What about you? You dating anyone?” you flip it around, having the courage to do so considering the direction the conversation has taken. 

“Me? No. … Not exactly easy to do. With Marco, and then with all the work going into changing jobs... I’ve been so focused on that. Dating hasn’t really been on my radar.”

Hm. He’s not dating anyone. 

“Oh. The self-proclaimed ‘hot dad’ isn’t even taking advantage of the single life, huh?” you chide. When he grins wide at that, seemingly blushing as he looks down to his lap, it’s somehow even cuter than the teasing smile he’s been giving you throughout the night. 

“I mean, not everyone wants to date someone with a kid anyway. ... They see that I’ve already done all that stuff...” He tilts his head, looking as though he might go on. “They want it to be my first time like it’s their first time, you know?…Engagement, pregnancy announcement, whatever. But it’s just not. There’s nothing I can do about that now.” He shrugs a little, making the words seem simpler than what they actually are.

“So, you’ve dated? Since you and his mom…?”

“Just one person really. But yeah, that’s what got in the way. And once she realized it was a problem for her… well, that was it. ... It’s kind of hard for me to think about introducing anyone to Marco now.” He pauses for a moment then looks away from you, scrunching up his nose in a little wince as he says: “He got kind of used to having her around so…” 

You nod but can’t help the way your stomach feels like it’s swirling. “Right. That makes sense; you don’t want things to be confusing for him.”

“Exactly, yeah. So, I guess I have to be a bit more careful,” he continues, letting himself break into a light-hearted little chuckle. “I’m trying to be better at that. For both our sakes.”

“Mm, good idea,” you say through a little smile. “You still have hope then? After everything?” The question comes out before you can really stop it.

“Of course. You don’t?” It surprises you how quick, how confidently he answers – even after his marriage didn’t work out.

You hum a little, regretting the question now that it’s being reflected back. “I’m not sure I can. It kind of just seems like everything falls apart no matter what, doesn’t it?”

“How can we know? If we don’t try?” he says so simply, the smile in his eyes making you all soft and warm in all the ways you’re scared of. 

“Well, I think we found the hopeless romantic in the room,” you tease, breaking away from his gaze in an attempt for self-preservation. 

He chuckles cutely. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you got me.”

-

It feels right and wrong at the same time, the way you keep your distance a little more after the chat. He walks you to the door and stands back as you put your shoes on, finding your purse to hand it to you once you've straightened up again. Then he just looks at you for a second, letting his hands sink into the front pockets of his denim. 

“Thank you for feeding me. It was the best meal I’ve had in a long time,” you say then watch as he eases in front of you, smiling at the floor before peering up at you through thick lashes. You aren’t sure where the confident, unswayable man that you first met has gone but he is somehow getting cuter with each side he shows you, this shyer, even softer-spoken Mingyu being no exception. 

“It was my pleasure, honestly. I love cooking for people. And actual feedback beyond a ‘yeahhh’ when I ask if something’s good.”

You laugh, able to picture it clearly, the kid so wrapped up in his meal that he’d barely answer you if you asked him a question. “Oh, Marco,” you say fondly, smiling as you turn and reach for the door handle. 

“Does he drive you nuts? And you’re just being nice about it?” he jokes, finding his place against the door frame as you spin on the front step to face him, now having to look up even more at him thanks to the level difference. 

“No, no… Not at all,” you answer quickly, amused by the assumption. “I honestly think he’s the best. Even though I’m absolutely not supposed to say that.”

“Ah, you probably say that to all the parents.”

“I do not!” you defend, crossing your arms over your chest for show. Or maybe just to keep you from reaching out and flirtily shoving him for the tenth time that night. “Nah, I know it sounds silly but I… I don’t know. I liked Marco from, like, the day I started. He shot me one of those big smiles… That was it,” you say, popping your shoulder in a little shrug. 

He chuckles a little, gaze falling down as he lets his head drop to the side. “I’m glad.” 

You watch him for a second in comfortable silence, meeting his eyes when they peer up at you once more. You want to kiss him. You’re also crazy enough to think he might want the same thing. 

But it’s obvious to you – and probably just as much to him – that after tonight, that can’t happen. No matter how much you would absolutely die to have his body on yours, you just know you can’t do that. Not if it means signing up for something that you are in no way ready for. 

-

Between that night and the next time he reaches out to you a few days later, you have all but convinced yourself that you would no longer spend time alone with Mingyu. You can’t be trusted. You’re sexually-deprived, and he’s beyond perfect, and it’s an absolute recipe for disaster. If he had so much as leaned in an inch that night, you would’ve closed the gap, smashing your lips to his. 

You’re still holding onto this resolve strongly when you check your phone during nap time…

MG: Hey 🙂 MG: It’s totally fine if you’re busy but if you’re not MG: A few friends want me to join them to shoot hoops tonight and thought it might be more fun for you and Marco to hang out at the park instead of trying to find someone to watch him at home MG: (Secretly hoping he’ll want to watch for a bit too but who knows)

The image of Mingyu playing basketball is far too good to say ‘no’ to, despite that being exactly what you should be saying. It’s not you and Mingyu spending time together alone at least. You look across the room, seeing Marco asleep on his cot, mixed in with the rest of the napping kids. 

MG: There’s a playground there for him in case that wasn’t clear! YN: He’s going to get sick of me haha MG: I don’t think that’s possible lol YN: 😊 YN: It works for me yeah YN: Are you still picking him up? MG: It’s actually the park beside where the festival was 🍑🍑 MG: If you want to walk over with him MG: Or I can come get him YN: Lol fine you can be Mingyu 🍑 YN: Since you want it so bad MG: 😃 YN: We’ll walk to you YN: I gotta go. Your child is awake and making animal noises MG: Haha I’m sorry

At 5:30pm, you lead Marco down the street to the park, bumbling along together hand-in-hand. Thankfully he listens well – he always seems to when he’s the only kid and you could put your focus completely on him. It’s only once you’re close enough, and he can clearly see his dad standing inside the basketball courts, that you let go so he can run to him, yelling “Daddyyyyyy!” the whole way. 

Mingyu’s head flies to the side, face lighting up at his toddler barrelling towards him like lightning with those long legs. He jogs over, bending down just as Marco runs into the fence, fingers wrapping around the metal grid. 

Trailing behind, you can’t hear them clearly yet but you watch, probably a little too dreamily, as the two talk animatedly with each other, Mingyu motioning to his friends who’ve started to make their way closer, one of them dribbling a basketball casually as he goes. 

Then Mingyu gestures for Marco to come around, pointing to the opening at the corner so he can run in and jump into his arms, the child gripping comfortably around his dad’s neck as he settles him on his hip to talk to the other men, wide smiles on all of them. 

You follow, stopping at the corner of the courts to lean against the pole, letting them have their little moment, and shooting them all a little smile and wave when Marco loudly exclaims that ‘Teacher’ brought him and whips his head around to find you and point. 

After a minute, Mingyu walks Marco over, still holding him. He looks way too good in basketball shorts and a cut-off t-shirt, way more casual than you’ve seen him. Until now, you haven’t been blessed with a full view of his biceps and shoulders. Now, you really wish you could have remained in blissful ignorance. You don’t need any more fuel for this fire if you are to actually be friends.

“Thank you for this,” he leads with, looking at Marco with a warm smile before bringing it over to you.

“No problem,” you reply, getting a bit bashful despite yourself. “It’s really nice out anyways.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to throw a ball around so, if you guys watch at all… Just know that I’m better than this, alright?” he warns as he bends, letting Marco’s feet find the ground. 

“Sure, sure,” you say with a sarcastic little nod. 

He just smirks back before resting a hand on Marco’s shoulder, looking down to meet the big brown eyes looking up at him. “Are you going to watch Daddy play?”

“I-I want to go on the slide!” he says, his head turning to settle his gaze on the red spiral not too far from you. 

Damn, you kind of want to watch Daddy play.

But instead of making that obvious, you just chuckle and shrug at Mingyu.

“Ah. Can’t say I’m surprised,” he sighs through a smile then starts to take a few steps backwards. “Just come get me if you need me.”

“Will do! … Ok, let’s go, kiddo.” You trail after Marco, watching him closely as he runs for the playset, instantly becoming distracted by the spinning discs and the pirate wheel and the wobbly bridge. The playground is far more exciting then the little hill and slide you have at the daycare, you have to admit. Eventually, he’ll notice the spiral slide once more.

Over the next forty-five minutes, your glances towards the courts are few, partly because Marco is so fast that you could lose him in a second if you aren’t careful, but also partly because you do not want Mingyu to see you looking. Not when he is with his friends, running around, all flushed and sweaty, shirt sticking to his back and chest…

Ok, you do look a little. But you keep it brief, training your gaze back on Marco quickly and following him around to the other side of the playground when he decides it’s time for the swings.

A few minutes of swinging, him squealing then cackling every time you push him borderline too high, and then he’s coming to you and reaching for your hand. 

“Can we go to Daddy?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. I think he’s still playing…” you start to explain as you lead him in the right direction, making sure to stop and pour the pebbles out that have gotten stuck in his light-up shoes. “Are you going to try basketball like your dad someday?” you ask casually, noticing the way he focuses on the ball soaring around the court as the two of you get close.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you could play if you want. You’re already pretty tall which is a good thing.”

“I want to play basketball!”

“Right now, you want to play?”

He doesn’t respond, just looks back at the pick-up game, finding his dad.

“Uh, maybe. We can see. I think your dad might love that actually.” You take him over to the opening for the court, not sure whether you should interrupt, but just then Mingyu notices you and immediately calls for a little pause before jogging your way. 

“Hi.”

“Hi!” he replies, a bit out of breath, forehead shimmery with sweat. “Everything ok? We were only going to do another twenty or so.”

“No, that’s ok. I was just bringing him over because he asked. He says he wants to play with you,” you relay, breaking into a little chuckle. When you look down at Marco, still diligently holding your hand, his eyes are focused on the ball being dribbled back and forth by one of his dad’s friends. 

“He wants to play with me??” he repeats, exaggerating the excitement and surprise in his voice for Marco’s amusement as he kneels down to the boy’s level. “You want to try, buddy?”

“Yeah!” he says, letting go of you to walk into his dad, hands pressing to his shoulders familiarly, though he continues to watch the ball. 

“Ok, let’s go!” He scoops Marco up, giving him a little bounce. “Um… if you want to go you can. Or, if you want to, like, stick around for a bit, we could go to that cafe after. Get him a snack?” he suggests, pointing his free hand at the cute spot on the corner.

You should go. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. I don’t mind watching for a bit.”

Whoops.

“Ok,” he says, all soft and smiley, before turning to walk back to the group.

Shit, he really gives you butterflies, especially when he looks at you like that. 

As you step in, finding the bench along the edge and plopping down, you have to tell yourself sternly not to just stare at him the whole time. Which is really hard with how gorgeous he looks, not to mention the fact that he’s very patiently yet goofily trying to teach Marco how to dribble with a ball that is clearly too large and heavy for a small child. 

When Marco finally bounces it a couple times by himself, he giggles loudly, messing himself up until the ball is running away from him and he has to go after it. “Teacher! … Teacher, did you see that?”

“I did!” you call back through a big smile, giving him a few silent claps of your hands before crossing them back over your chest.

-

The cafe is nice. You both talk with Marco the whole time, going back and forth between relaying daycare happenings to Mingyu then asking Marco various questions. He doesn’t have the clearest diction but he gets excited when asked about his favourite things, adorably rambling on in a way that somewhat makes sense, helped by his dad’s input. 

After that, it becomes a bit of a routine: Mingyu playing basketball with his buddies each Thursday, you bringing Marco over to watch, then the three of you spending a little extra time together until dinner time. He ends up introducing his friends, Joshua, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan, who all seem super nice, likely helped by the fact that you’re the one making it possible for them to hang out with Mingyu again each week. 

Against your better judgement, it’s absolutely your favourite day of the week. Not only because you get to spend more time with him, getting little additional glimpses into his life, but… those damn cut-off shirts, making his arms look massive. Those would get you every time. 

He doesn’t invite you over to his house though, opting for different spots in the area. Well, until the fourth time.

“I seriously made too much. He and I will never get through it all,” he tells you as you walk with them towards their car. “Plus, I need your expert opinion anyways.”

“You know I don’t say no to free food,” you say with a laugh. “You don’t need to butter me up.”

“I know, I know. I just… I feel like I take up so much of your time,” he says, a little bashful as he pulls the door open, looking to you as he waits for Marco to climb up into his seat. 

“You do realize we’re actually friends, right?” you tease. “You stopped paying me to watch Marco a long time ago.”

He laughs from inside the car, nearly hitting his head when he stands back up after buckling him in. “Which I still feel bad about.”

“Oh my god,” you whine, taking the passenger seat once he pulls it open for you. “Don’t start.”

You’re still smiling when he climbs in on his side, easily popping the car into reverse and backing out smoothly. That’s attractive when anyone does it, right? Not just because it’s him?

“Besides, you pay me in food. Pretty sure I’ve eaten enough of your i-c-e-c-r-e-a-m to make up for the free childcare.”

“It is shockingly impressive how quickly you can put away a pint.”

“Hey, you eat it just as fast.”

“And I’m twice your height.”

“Shut up,” you gawk, smacking into his arm with the back of your hand, making him whinge dramatically, reaching over to rub it. “He can probably do it too,” you say, twisting in your seat to see Marco, who looks over at you with big eyes and a smile when he notices you. 

“Teacher… are you coming to my house?”

“Uh-huh, I’m gonna have dinner with you. Is that ok?”

“Yeahhh,” he says softly before focusing his eyes back on the trees flying by outside. 

When you turn back around, Mingyu smiles at you too for a moment before retraining his gaze on the road ahead. 

-

After dinner, you insist on doing the dishes, keeping an eye on Marco playing, while Mingyu takes a quick shower. Then the three of you watch a movie.

You haven’t been to their house in weeks but you feel as welcome as ever when Marco cuddles up into your side and actually stays still for longer than a minute, body slumped against your arm, eyes fixed on the TV. 

It feels nice in a way that is hard for you to grasp because as much as you love all the kids you’ve met and taught and cared for, you don't felt quite like this about any of the others. 

Maybe if you don’t move at all, he’ll stay right there, totally relaxed against you, for a while. Marco barely ever stays still but now, thanks to Toy Story, he hasn’t moved for a full twenty minutes and counting. 

From the other side, Mingyu looks at you just as you look over at him, his eyes dipping down to his son then back up to you as a close-lipped smile presses onto his lips. Then he mouths: “Cute.”

You glance down and your lip juts out, eager to express just how adorable you find the boy, even if you can only see him from above, his squishy cheek pressed against your arm. 

When you look back up, he’s still watching you. “Do you need anything?” he asks quietly. 

You think for a second before giving him a cheeky hinting smile. 

He just rolls his eyes and gets up, returning a minute later with ice cream. But instead of handing you a pint or a spoon, he simply scoops out a spoonful and holds it out for you, being totally quiet so as to not distract the little one. 

You shake your head just barely before opening your mouth, receiving the bite, and mouthing a little “Thank you” back to him. He gives you a sure little nod in return before serving himself a bite. 

-

“Ok, Marco. Time to go up. Say goodnight to Y/N,” Mingyu says gently, giving Marco a tap on the butt. He’s lying on your lap now but lifts his head quickly, as if coming out of a trance, at his dad’s words. 

“Nooo, it’s not time,” he whines, clearly past tired as he rubs at his eye with a small fist. 

Mingyu gets up slowly, coming to stand over the two of you with his towering height. “Remember? I said after the movie, we’re going to get into our pajamas and brush our teeth and get into bed. Come on, bud.” 

“Wanna stay with Teacher.”

That makes the both of you chuckle although you both try to stifle it.

“Y/N’s going too. She has to go to sleep. She’s tired too. Aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” you play along, turning a little in your seat to gently help him off you and steer him towards getting up. “I think it’s almost my bedtime too. Come on.”

He gets up slowly, letting out another whine, but stays close to you, even once you stand up as well. 

“Let’s go, Marco,” Mingyu says a bit more sternly as he starts down the hallway, stopping in the archway to turn and give him a little look. 

“Are you leaving?” Marco asks you through tired eyes, rubbing them once again until strands of his bangs are hanging in front of them. Carefully, you brush them out of the way, heart pinching at the sound of his little voice. 

“I’m going to go in a little bit, yeah. Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

He just lifts his arms up, a clear request to be carried. 

You glance up at Mingyu. You don’t carry the kids at your job often, usually only if they get hurt or need extra comfort for a few minutes. Marco, you’ve probably only carried once in the few months you’ve been working there. But you do love carrying them – that damn nurturing instinct in you just sings at the feeling of a kid clinging onto you. 

Mingyu shrugs in response. “Up to you.”

After a quick second, you’re bending down to haul him onto your hip. He’s pretty heavy – he’s so tall for four and especially in his sleepy state, he’s just a warm cozy dead weight wrapped around you, his arms locking behind your neck, long legs swaying with your movements as you walk to join Mingyu. 

“You don’t have to,” he whispers through a little smile once you’re close.

“I don’t mind,” you whisper back, holding Marco tightly as you follow him up the stairs into the red and blue decorated bedroom. 

At each step of the bedtime routine, Mingyu tries to get Marco to say goodnight to you and move onto the next thing. And at each step, he asks you to stay. Apparently he needs to show you his dinosaur pajamas. Then he needs to show you his new tooth brush and how great he is at brushing his tongue. 

Of course, he then has to show you his current favourite book to be read, of which he has memorized all the words anyway. Mingyu would say the first half of the sentence then Marco would say the rest in his adorable way, making Mingyu smile widely each time. Sometimes he even would scrunch up his nose and eyes while listening. You aren’t sure which one of them is cuter.

It’s only once the book is done and the light is off, and Mingyu is somehow curled up in the tiny bed beside his son that you’re able to leave, saying a hushed, “Goodnight, kiddo,” before you slip out the door, leaving it open just a crack.

You tip-toe down the stairs then hover in the kitchen, unsure whether you are actually supposed to leave or not. What if he expects you to? What if you leave and he’s not expecting you to? Which one is less awkward?

Instead of deciding, you take a few minutes to bring the empty ice cream container back to the kitchen, rinsing it and the spoon in the sink, searching for the recycling bin, figuring it’s fair for you to take the few minutes to clean up while he puts Marco to bed. 

Not to mention, that you don’t really want to leave. As much as you’ve been good about not flirting with him too heavily, you still love being around Mingyu. You crave it. Which maybe is not a totally normal feeling about a friend.

It’s difficult for you to make the right decision every time, considering the perpetual pull you feel towards him. You know the right decision doesn’t include you putting his son to bed with him. The right decision definitely doesn’t include hanging around after Marco has gone to bed, cleaning up the kitchen as if you belonged here. Because the last time you were alone together, you wanted to kiss him. 

But here you are again.

He comes down after five minutes, walking as lightly as possible on the hallway floorboards before peeking around the corner into the kitchen and living room, looking for you.  

“Oh, ok,” he breathes out before chuckling quietly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually left.”

“I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to,” you joke, relieved that he had questioned it in the same way, while you dry your hands on the towel hanging on the front of his oven. 

“You don’t actually have to go to bed,” he admits cutely. 

“No? You’re not sending me to bed?” you tease, unable to help it. He’s just so very teasable. 

Closer to you now, he plays back, “Would you have listened?” 

Gaze falling to the floor, you sneer out the tiniest laugh – a defence mechanism because you can’t stop your brain from going the absolute wrong way with this. “Depends how convincing you are, I suppose.”

“I can be…” His palms find the counter behind him, his body leaning back and stretching slightly. “...pretty convincing.”

You try with all your might not to look – but alas, your eyes flick to the smooth bronze sliver of lower stomach that becomes visible above the waistband of his pants, before jumping back up to his face awkwardly, your face immediately getting hot. He has to know what he’s doing; that has to be on purpose. 

“I, uh… washed up those few things,” you say, starting to smile nervously in your embarrassment as you toss a thumb in the direction of the sink. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” he replies softly as his eyes settle back on you. 

“It was very delicious,” you carry on, ignoring him for your own safety, and walking by to pick up your phone, checking it out of habit. 

8:52pm.

“See, you’ve already eaten all my ice cream so I guess I need to get creative if I want you to stay longer, huh?” he says as he comes up beside you, sighing a little for effect. But when you look up at him, he’s all charming smile. You aren’t often speechless, but really, what are you supposed to do with that? 

Your nod is tiny, cute even, but also certain, your eyes locked on his, even as you bite nervously at the inside of your lip. 

“Ok, then, what’s the next film I need to be educated on?”

-

The Prestige? You weren’t able to shut up.

Bad Times at the El Royale? Totally silent as the first scene plays out. And it’s not because you aren’t as enthusiastic about the filmmaking.

To be fair, you are practically notorious at this point for telling him he has to focus, he can’t miss a single thing, so maybe he isn’t aware of the difference. But you are aware of it. Aware of him, quite close to you, his thigh resting lightly against your knee thanks to how you are curled up on your cushion, body facing him a bit. 

“What the fuck is happening?” he asks at the four-minute mark, making you chuckle. 

“You just have to watch and see.”

He sends you a look.

“I can’t tell you. That’s the whole point.”

“But what was he doing?”

“Mingyu,” you scold through your breath.

“Is this the same hotel?”

This time you shoot him a look, bringing a finger up to his pretty lips a second later when he opens his mouth again.

He just smirks, cheeks pushing up, trying but failing to hide how fucking amused he is at your slight annoyance. 

“Just. Watch,” you whisper. But then you’re breaking your own rule, your eyes stuck on him as he slowly relaxes his face, his gaze darting down to the finger you had raised then back to you. You bring your hand down slowly, once again a little embarrassed. “You’re… not watching,” you say quietly. 

“Neither are you.” His gaze dips down slightly, to what you can only imagine are your lips. Just for a moment. 

Your heart rate speeds up, letting your own vision fixate on his full bottom lip for a moment. Just a moment. 

Wow, wow, wow, this is absolutely what a crush is supposed to feel like. Oh no.

“I…” he says, so quiet, just as he leans towards you a little, his eyebrow pinching together slightly in that adorably innocent way. 

You let yourself mirror him, going twenty to his eighty, then your lips are meeting. So very gently. Are you both just terrified of scaring the other off? When have you ever been this timid with someone? 

Well, when have you ever been this into someone? 

Your hand floats up to gingerly find his jaw, barely touching him, just fingertips, the sounds of the movie completely washed out in the background. But when the chaste kiss ends naturally, you find yourself pulling him back to you, not letting him go farther than a inch before you’re kissing him again, your palm brushing over his cheek. 

Slowly, he makes it a real kiss, seemingly encouraged: letting his hand find your knee, letting his lips caress and pull a little at yours, letting the smallest sound of satisfaction slip from his throat. 

Shit, he feels so good to kiss. Like everything you imagined but even better, all big and warm and soft. But also, invigorating.

You let him in, shuffling a tiny bit closer on your knees when his arm comes up to rest on the back of the couch and his body turns more towards you, big hand sliding up your thigh just a tad. He’s being so careful, tongue barely teasing at your lip, then subsequently doing the same to your tongue when you kiss him more deeply; but you can feel the eagerness in both of you. You want to climb on top of him, and wrap every part of you around him. 

Taking in a deep breath, your other hand comes up, both of them sliding back into his hair, enjoying the softness between your fingers. How does everything about him feel so perfect? He feels good, smells good, tastes good. 

After the most wonderful minute, your lips part just as gently as they came together, hesitant and slow. You don’t want to stop but you also really want to look at him.

He’s harder to read now – not smiling but certainly not unhappy. Just watching you openly, taking you in, as he lightly rubs his lips together. 

Your hands have slid down his neck but now you slide them further, not really thinking, just letting them skim over his chest. Overwhelmed, you tip your head to the side, letting it rest against his arm where it lay, and close your eyes, your shyness in the face of him making the corners of your mouth turn up a little. After a moment, you turn into the warmth of his skin, hiding your face in his bicep.

From just the sound of his breath, you can tell he’s smiling. Then he’s wrapping his other arm around you, scooting closer as he pulls you to him with a little groan of effort, ending up with you fully curled up in his chest. His face comes to the side of your head as he cuddles you, your body fitting so incredibly well in his embrace. 

“I didn’t fuck up, did I?” he asks close to your ear. And even that makes your heart speed up more. All low and sexy. But also all caring and sweet. 

You shake your head right away, something he probably feels more than he sees. “No, no… I just…” you breathe out, trying to remember how to play it cool for a second even though there is probably no point anymore. “Wasn’t sure if that would happen. Or should happen. So, I'm just… trying to process.”

Really, you know the answer. It shouldn’t happen. But you need to make light of it so you won’t start to panic. You can’t see him, your head still tucked into his shoulder, but you’re kind of glad for it when he lets out a little unreliable: “Mm.”

“I just don’t think I’m in a place to,” you pause, not wanting to say it, not wanting to ruin how fucking perfect this feels. But he’s complicated in a way that you aren’t prepared for. “To be in something serious with someone? Just… casual?” It’s a question only in that you wonder if he can understand. 

“Right,” he says, a little stilted, but he doesn’t change his hold on you, still cuddling you against him, a heavy arm wrapped around your back. 

As sure as you have been all night that he knows his effect on you, you feel suddenly concerned. “This feels really good though. Like… Like fucking nice,” you say, trying to make it clear in your voice and the way you let your fingers bunch up in his t-shirt that you really don’t want him to let go. 

He lets out a breath, as if he hasn’t breathed since he pulled you in, and you feel his forehead press against the top of your shoulder. “Fuck, Y/N…” he sighs through a little disbelieving laugh. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, joining him in the disappointment-tinged chuckle. As you nuzzle into his neck a little more, letting his mix of deodorant and shampoo and skin cloud your mind for the moment. 

“I…” He groans, but it’s so fucking cute, hearing the frustration even while he’s trying to play it off. “I don’t think I can do ‘casual’.”

Your face scrunches up a bit. That is definitely not what you want to hear. He needs so much more than you can give. Someone who’s not so scared to leap. “I… don’t think I can do anything other than casual.”

“Mmm,” he groans again, raspier, before taking in a deep breath. You’re so close to him, his throat, his chest, that every noise is just magnified, the grit in the rumble of his voice and the tightness in the sigh he releases.

It’s dumb – his stupid sounds are just making you feel even more drunk on him, thinking dirty thoughts that you can’t control. Even as the two of you are clearly unearthing the neon sign that reads: This can’t happen. 

You shift your hold on him, sliding your arm around his waist a little more.

“You’re killing me,” he murmurs suddenly. The press of his head leaves your shoulder and then his arm is moving, hand coming to your hair to gently prompt your head to lift it so that you could look at him. 

Goddamnit, still so damn sexy. You look at his lips again. Then back to his pretty eyes. Caught once again – because you really shouldn’t be looking and thinking about feeling him some more. 

He kisses you harder this time, bracing his hand on the back of your head as his mouth envelops yours. With a sharp intake of breath, you’re kissing him back, immediately pulling him closer to you even though it’s practically impossible in the position. His fist closes in your hair, not forceful, but just enough to feel the tension in him, letting it seep through the strands into your skin. 

His tongue moves slowly, the right pace for indulgence, for melting into someone. Does he really need to be an incredible kisser too? Does he not have enough boxes ticked already?

You part again after another minute, becoming too aware of the rush in your veins. Still, you hover close, lips grazing once or twice as you both catch your breath. “Should I go…? Or… are we watching?” you whisper. “Because I think this is dangerous.”

He pulls back a little more, seemingly in thought before answering: “Will you stay?” Then he lets a little smile poke through. “I promise I’ll pay attention.”

“You better,” you reciprocate, extricating your hands from him despite their unwillingness, letting yourself settle against his side instead.

He watches you for another moment before he presses his lips together and gives a little nod – more to himself or to you, you aren’t sure – then looks back at the screen. “I’ll, uh…” With a little performative cough and a smirk, he reaches for the remote. “Rewind.”

A/N: this Mingyu is my perfect man ok?? everything about this fic is personal to me including my love for The Prestige. i purposely left out any spoilers bc if you haven’t seen it you need to go watch it unspoiled lol. thank you so much for reading :D part 2 linked below

Tag List: @theharrowing @here4kpopfics @the-boy-meets-evil

PART TWO

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Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it ❤️ Thank you!

Masterlist

BTS member Namjoon's history with misogyny and feminism, because I personally want this all in one list just for me:

(if you screenshot this to share anywhere, PLEASE source and/or link me. i'm sick of writing BTS posts and it going viral on twt when someone else steals it)

Oct 2014 — Namjoon writes lyrics for the misogynistic song "War of Hormone," including a line about how women are "the best gift."

March 2015 — Namjoon writes lyrics for his misogynistic song "Joke," including saying he's going to tell people that a "bossy" woman he doesn't like has gonorrhea (in Korean, “being bossy” and “gonorrhea” rhyme/are off by one letter). He then writes that he wants this woman to blow him.

June 2016 — Namjoon gets criticized for his misogynistic lyrics in "Joke" and "War of Hormone," and he says:

“The most controversial things came from what I wrote. I thought, ‘I was so ignorant.’ I wanted to study a lot. Since then, I have been taking women and gender studies classes at a university. […] I do contemplate a lot even as I write lyrics now. I read the newspapers a lot, and read books a lot, and study current society a lot. And now when I write lyrics, I get professional opinions from those like a feminist professor.”

He later shares that he still sends all of his lyrics to this women and gender studies professor, for them to "analyze objectively."

July 2016 — Korean feminist eAeon shares a thread on Twitter:

“Recently, Namjoon and I met privately and had a serious long talk about the issue of misogyny. Namjoon felt shame and guilt because of the controversy and revealed to me that he is distressed and unable to sleep due to it. So I said that misogyny is not a label or stigma that cannot be erased, but rather an obstacle in the right path that can exist within anyone. Rather than feeling like it’s unfair or painful, it’s a matter of deciding to fix it or not after discovering it within oneself. I talked about how I am also in the process of continuously fixing myself whenever I discover something I am lacking. Namjoon listened attentively and understood better than other people I have spoken to about similar topics.”

Oct 2016 — Namjoon writes the lyrics for the song "21st Century Girl," which includes (somewhat generic) uplifting lyrics such as “Tell them that you’re strong / Tell them you’re enough” and much more, with the whole song being along those lines. It’s fun, it’s cheesy, it's cute, it's entry level feminism, etc

Jan 2017 — Namjoon says in a live vlog:

“I’d never thought that my behaviors or words could hurt others. As I went through the year 2016, I started to think about that. My words or behaviors, regardless of my intentions, can cause trouble or hurt others feelings. I thought, I need to hold myself responsible for that and I need to think about such things. What I said and did can not be undone. I learned how to admit that to myself. It was hard to admit that I could hurt others’ feelings even if I don’t mean to. Now, when I start to do something, I think, how would people feel about my actions? Now, as I said, I feel much better about my feelings and emotions. Now when I hear something about myself, even if it’s criticism or condemnation, I think, what caused them to say this about me? What did I do wrong? What did I do to cause others to feel uncomfortable? I need to know how to change my way of thinking if it’s wrong.”

Jan 2017 — Namjoon posts a picture of a stack of books on his side table, and one is Breaking Out of the ‘Man Box’: A Call to Men, a book by Black male feminist and human rights activist Tony Porter, about “empowering men to create a world where men and boys are loving and respectful, and a human race where women and girls are valued and safe.”

Feb 2017 — BTS releases the music video for their song “Not Today.” The song is about the "underdogs" of society rising up and fighting back, and features a line about “shattering the glass ceiling that holds you down.” When asked if he knew what the phrase meant, Namjoon, who wrote the lyrics, said that he was fully aware of its meaning in feminism, as well as: “I wrote the lyrics to say let us, including BTS, not stay silent on social issues.” (Unrelated fun fact: the song is also heavily inspired by Aragorn's "but it is not this day" speech in Return of the King).

Sept 2017 — Namjoon shares a selfie where you can see he has a Marymond phone case. Marymond is a charity that financially supports former "comfort women," Korean women and girls who were abducted before and during WWII by Imperial Japan and forced into sexual slavery for Japanese soldiers.

Japan has refused to actually apologize to survivors, one Japanese politician said in 2014 that comfort women were "necessary for soldier morale," Osaka ended its sister city designation with San Francisco over a comfort women memorial in SF's Chinatown, many right-wing Japanese people view comfort women as lying sluts, etc. South Korea and Japan officially entered into an economic/trade war in 2019 due to Japan's refusal to give reparations to Korean comfort women.

March 2018 — Irene from Red Velvet says she read the book Kim Ji Young, Born 1982, which is about “the subtle hardships women endure” and is said to have “a clear goal of enlightening those oblivious to the gender discrimination that takes place everyday.” This caused a huge controversy, where Irene’s male fans burned pictures of her, said they now hate her, and essentially threw big temper tantrums because of her support of feminism.

Two days later, Namjoon does a live vlog just to say he also recently read Kim Ji Young, Born 1982, which he praises and calls “thought-provoking.”

(CONTEXT: Starting in the late 2010s and continuing now, incels and MRAs are a rising movement in South Korea, while feminism is viewed as evil and corrupting. In 2022, South Korea elected a proud anti-feminist as president, who ran on a platform specifically appealing to incels.)

July 2021 — Namjoon is seen reading the book Ways of Seeing, aka the book where the term “the male gaze” comes from. The book “criticizes traditional Western cultural aesthetics by raising questions about hidden ideologies in visual images,” and it is the origin of a famous quote about male artists and the male gaze: “You painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and called the painting ‘vanity,’ thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for your own pleasure.”

Aug 2021 — Namjoon is put on a “feminist watchlist” by Korean incels — they made a list of “suspected,” “verified,” and “vanguard” feminists in Korean pop culture and politics, and put celebrities, politicians, and activists on their list accordingly, so they would know who to hate. Namjoon was listed here as a “verified feminist” and the incels said men should all boycott him due to his support of feminism. Namjoon is the only male idol included on this list.

Sept 2021 — BTS does an interview with South Korea’s then-President Moon (not the incel, but the guy before him), in conjunction with their UN work. BTS is asked to comment on misogyny, as they have a lot of female fans, and only Namjoon answers. He says:

“Personally, I received a lot of criticism regarding misogyny in 2015 and 2016, which led me to get my lyrics reviewed by a women’s studies professor. That experience, in turn, was an opportunity for me to self-reflect and question whether I’d been insensitive to gender equality. I want to do the best I can to take interest in this topic, learn, and make improvements.”

Him speaking about women's studies professors (some of the most controversial people in Korea right now) in a positive way, even just using the word "misogyny," and saying all this literally in front of a world leader caused quite a stir in South Korea.

Sept 2022 — Namjoon is asked to narrate the audio guide for the first-ever exhibition of modern Korean art in the West. Namjoon got to personally choose ten artists to feature in his audio guide, and for the first one (the most featured one), he chose Rha Hye-Seok, a painter who was also a writer and the founder of Korea’s feminism movement. In his narration, Namjoon describes how Rha died alone and in poverty, shunned by Korean society for advocating for women’s rights during Japanese Imperial rule.

Other artists he chose to include were Japanese Imperialism-era Korean resistance revolutionaries, as well as communists and North Koreans who were blacklisted in South Korea.

Mar 2023 — Namjoon talks about his love of art in an interview, and is asked if he invests in any art (“investing” in art collection = buying paintings just to sell them in the future when they’re worth more), and he says he just collects art for himself, but if he were interested in "investing and supporting," he would choose “Black artists, women, and emerging Indonesian artists.” (Namjoon chose to add the “support” part, turning the phrase around to mean uplifting instead of profiting off of.)

July 2023 — The members of BTS release a book describing their careers from pre-debut until now. Namjoon writes about the misogyny controversy from 2016, saying: 

“I think it was something I needed to go through. About this kind of concept and awareness, I have come to think that as someone living in the 2020s, it’s something you come up against at least once. And because I was criticized early on, I could recognize the problem sooner. […] This was because I’d received clear comments and criticism about the raps I’d written as well as my views. The Gangnam Station murder [a misogynistic hate crime/femicide] happened around that time, and so from a woman’s perspective I think there was no choice but to speak out even more."

About the positive impact the misogyny controversy had, he also said: "If it wasn’t for that process, we wouldn’t have made it this far."

The book then mentions: “Gender sensitivity training is now obligatory for all HYBE artists before they can debut.”

PS, he's trans inclusive, so any terfs reading this can die I guess:

Sept 2018 — Namjoon speaks in front of the UN and says that all people “no matter who you are, where you’re from, your skin color, your gender identity” deserve to be able to “speak themselves,” something he defines as having confidence in and loving yourself.

May 2019 — BTS creates little animal cartoon characters to represent themselves, and then makes a video talking about them and answering fan questions. Hoseok is asked what gender his character Mang is, and Yoongi says: “I kind of want all of them to be gender neutral. I don’t want them to be classified into two gender groups.” All of the other boys nod and agree, particularly Jimin and Namjoon, who are verbal and enthusiastic/excited.

The video then has a short animation of Mang looking back and forth between the doors to two bathrooms, each labeled with traditional gender symbols, and then Mang bursts through the wall between the doors instead:

Aug 2022 — Namjoon shares a picture of a glass sculpture he bought for his home, made by Roni Horn, a "neither male nor female" queer activist and artist.

March 2023 — Namjoon shares a song rec, “Parody” by Yves Tumor. Yves Tumor is nonbinary and goes by they/them and he/him pronouns, and Namjoon chose to share this specifically on Trans Visibility Day.

April 2023 — Namjoon shares a picture on his IG story of the cover of the photobook The Ballad of Sexual Dependency by Nan Goldin, a bisexual Jewish activist and photographer who first rose to fame during the AIDS crisis. Her photobook is about humanizing addicts, drag queens, queer and transgender people, HIV positive people, etc.

Bonus stuff I wanted to include, because this is my post:

March 2017 — Namjoon and American rapper Wale release a song together, called “Change.” From Billboard’s review of the song: “In this unrestrained hip-hop track, the duo criticize the ‘alt-right,’ ‘racist police,’ and declare they have ‘no faith in the government.’”

May 2018 — Namjoon recommends the book Das Kapital by Karl Marx in a live vlog. That book is over 3,000 pages long and is about the importance of communism and socialism, capitalism's oppression and exploitation of the working class and all marginalized groups, how capitalism and imperialism go hand in hand, and more. Namjoon also says he wrote the BTS song "Paradise" about his views on capitalism in South Korea and how it leads to people overworking themselves to death.

May 2018 — Namjoon says in a press conference that he’d rewritten parts of BTS's song “Fake Love” for their performance at the BBMAs, to not include the words “I am” (nae-ga in Korean) or “you are” (ni-ga in Korean) specifically because they sound like the English n word, which he says is offensive and that Koreans shouldn’t say it.

He went on to say: “There are many people hearing the song for the first time, and when you are hearing parts like that as English, there is potential for misunderstandings to occur. To prevent that, we edited the lyrics.”

Oct 2018 — Namjoon has a million songs about mental health awareness, the suicidal thoughts and panic attacks he used to have in late 2015 and 2016, and his depression, but I especially recommend his album "mono," where every song marks a different place in his recovery and struggles with mental illness. In the live vlog for this album, he also became one of the only Korean celebrities to ever say he sees a therapist.

Feb 2019 — Namjoon shows off some of the art pieces he owns in a live vlog, including multiple pieces specifically about Free Palestine (all of his Palestine-related art is pro-Palestine). When talking about the art, he calls the country "Palestine."

Jan 2020 — Namjoon and the rest of BTS reveal “Connect BTS,” a global art project bringing attention to diverse visual artists around the world. BTS sponsored five 100% free art exhibitions and personally chose the artists themselves, and interviewed them to help bring mainstream attention to them. The main artist in the Berlin exhibition was Nigerian artist Jelili Atiku, whose work is about European colonialism in Africa.

April 2020 — Namjoon recommends the book Guns, Germs, and Steel, the groundbreaking book destroying all arguments in support of white supremacy, “stunningly dismantling racially-based theories of human history,” and “arguing against the idea that Europeans have any kind of intellectual, moral, or inherent genetic superiority.” Some people believe Europeans were able to colonize, enslave, and conquer the Americas/Africa because white people are superior, but this book says it was just luck, geography, the invention of guns, and immunity to diseases from Europeans not washing their asses.

Dec 2022 — Namjoon releases the song “Yun” featuring Erykah Badu, about the painter Yun Hyong-Keun. Besides painting, Yun was also an activist who protested against Imperial Japan and the Korean war, and was arrested and tortured multiple times throughout his life for standing against colonialism and imperialism, and later for being a Communist sympathizer.

Jan 2023 — Back in 2021, BTS's company HYBE announced they were going to sell BTS NFTs, but then literally never mentioned it again. In 2023, it was revealed that Namjoon himself had gone to HYBE headquarters and "gave a powerpoint presentation to HYBE's executive board" about how horrible NFTs are and how he didn't want them associated with BTS.

Feb 2023 — Namjoon shares another picture of his Free Palestine art, coincidentally (or not) on the very same day Israel bombed Damascus and killed nine civilians.

March 2023 — Namjoon in an interview: “Music is really necessary for the world, but when it comes to my own music, sometimes I feel that I am producing something unnecessary. If I died tonight, I don’t think anything would change. Some people may care, but a farmer or street sweeper are more relevant to the functioning of society.”

April 2023 — Namjoon shares a picture from his home, and in the background, an original political sketch from Philip Guston’s Poor Richard series is visible.

Philip Guston was a Jewish Communist who did a series of political sketches about how much he hated US president Richard Nixon — for anyone who doesn’t know, Nixon was a fascist conservative, and sort of the Trump of the 70s. He was hateful, racist, misogynistic, homophobic, he spoke nonsense and most centrists thought he was insane and would never get elected, he literally started the War on Drugs, etc. Guston’s sketches portray Nixon in a very grotesque way and are all about him and his cronies being evil and fucking over the whole world out of hatred and greed.

So, Namjoon owns a sketch by a Jewish Communist about hating and mocking fascist conservatives.

and lastly, Namjoon's two best outfits:

(the sweatshirt in the second one features a picture of Rick Owens, an openly bisexual fashion designer, wearing heels)

𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖𝕕 - 𝕛𝕛𝕜&𝕜𝕥𝕙

⟶ title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 7.6k ⟶ warnings: Mnetions of blood and a wound, drinking, Jungkook calls you Data and Taehyung calls you Pigeon, infidelity-ish?? (you'll see), two smut scenes: oral (female and male receiving) mutiple orgasms, overstim, unprotected sex (thats a no, wrap it up) few different positions, making out, sweet kisses, nipple stuff ⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, its been such a long time. I apologize this took so long but it's finally here! I can't wait to see what everyone thinks of spidey!kook and venom!tae, they're truly my babies and I have loved writing them. This is only part one, I make no guarantees how quickly part two comes out, but I'll do my best I promise. I'm thinking probably four parts for this. enjoy! tell me all ur thots! Shoutout to M (@here2bbtstrash), Sav (@jeonjcngkook) and Kay (@tea4sykes) for looking this over and correcting my insanity and also assuring me that it's not terrible lol. Thank you all so much for your patience and help.

“So where is he?” your friend Penny says from across the table.

“He said he was coming.” You sigh, stirring your drink with the straw.

“He said that the last two times we were all supposed to study together.” Hoseok gives you a look that’s part sympathy and part annoyance.

“He’s working three part-time jobs. Not all of us have our parents paying for our apartments, Hobi.” You give him a playful glare and he returns it, followed by a poke of his tongue from between his lips.

Part of you wished you didn’t know Jungkook’s secret. That you could go back to the days where you were blissfully unaware of who he was. But back then, being stood up hurt even more because you didn’t know why.

Now you know. You know that Jungkook is Spider-Man. The infamous superhero  with powers he acquired from being bitten by a lab altered arachnid a few years ago.

He saved your life. Twice in fact. Both times it was because you were curious, too curious for your own good, and you had been suspecting something was going on with Jungkook. 

You followed him one night and watched in awe as he changed into his Spider-Man suit in an alleyway. And not just because he was Spider-Man, but because he was insanely gorgeous. You were hypnotized by the man who had been sitting next to you as your lab partner for most of the year. Who constantly hid his body beneath baggy clothes and bucket hats. 

You had always liked him a little more than you cared to admit. And after you found out the truth about him, your friendship grew into something more.

There weren’t any labels; you didn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, much to your dismay. But Jungkook always told you that if the wrong person found out about the two of you, they could use you to get to him. And he needed to be able to focus on his whole saving the world gig, and not constantly worry about your safety. 

You understood. But that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little.

You manage to study a bit longer with your friends before deciding you were far too distracted. You call Jungkook on your walk back to your apartment, but of course he doesn't  answer. 

So now you wait. And you worry.

No matter how hot the shower water is as it hits your back, it doesn’t stop the worry. You just want him to be safe, even if he pissed you off by not showing up again. 

You wrap yourself in your favorite silky robe and get comfortable on your bed with some of your homework you didn’t finish with your friends, slowly getting immersed in all of the calculations and formulas that you love so much. They were a great distraction.

Not sure how long you’ve been studying, you get up to stretch and make your way to your apartment balcony, opening the doors and stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. 

The city is always loud, but up here it isn’t so bad. The traffic sounds far away and the lights are just flickers across the skyline. You might even think it was beautiful if it wasn’t for the constant bad lurking around every corner. Or maybe you had just heard too many scary things from Jungkook.

Sighing when he pops into your head again, you turn around to head back inside only to come face to face with the superhero in question. Seeing him hanging there upside down from your doorway startles you just enough to send you stumbling backwards towards your balcony.

Before you can get too far, or even fully scream, Jungkook is shooting a web at your torso, pulling you back and into his arms as he flips down onto his feet. Your head swims from how quickly it happens.

“Data, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is slightly muffled through his mask. “It’s just me.”

“You scared me.” You look up at him as he removes his mask and shakes out his hair, eyes finally meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been…noisier.” Jungkook smiles and you almost forget that you’re angry with him. Almost.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing, it's  just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half-hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers. 

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are right in front of you, scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” he asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers really are something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you,” you whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off and sit them on the countertop before his hands come up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. It’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth. 

“What does it want?” 

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. No one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours. “But Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Kim Seokjin, more famously known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He was helping Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school. 

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” you tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?” 

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.” 

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it, but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull back, but his other wrist shoots a web at your torso; using his inhuman strength, he pulls you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and your legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the solid feeling of being on the ground disappears and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge as he swings you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek. “Just another minute.”

You keep your eyes clamped shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to peek just the slightest bit. You see the sun setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

You soak in the feeling of Jungkook holding you so tightly because you never know when the next time may be. You hate to sound so dramatic in thinking that way, but it really is a guessing game sometimes . Your hands loosen and slide up into his hair, making him look down into your eyes and smile when he sees how fondly you’re looking back at him.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, even though there isn’t a single soul that could hear you up here.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth and then the other before the softness of his lips has your eyes fluttering closed. This kiss is only gentle brushes of lips, noses grazing in the sweetest way you can imagine, all the while Jungkook is still effortlessly swinging you between buildings.

He shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down. You kiss him once more before you open your eyes and look out at the nearly complete sunset…a thousand feet in the air.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” He kisses you again before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building, taking note of all the intricate filigree and gargoyle statues.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” You melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.” 

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body hot and on edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

Your chest heaves at the idea of being completely helpless. He’s taken away your control and your ability to touch him as you please. 

He makes quick work of the sleep pants you had been wearing, tossing them away to join the gargoyles on the rooftop. 

“Jungkook…” you whimper when he lowers himself between your legs and lies down on his stomach so he can be face to face with your heat.

“Relax, okay? I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses a path down your thigh, sucking gently and caressing with his tongue.

You arch your back from the ledge when he pushes your panties to the side and his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy. Just a sweet kiss at first, then a deep, swirling lick to your clit. You pull against the webbing trapping you in place, fingers begging to be in his hair.

If only the citizens of his precious city could see him right now. Face buried and tongue lapping just for you. All of it for you and not for them.

You can feel tears start to form in your eyes from the way your orgasm is already so close to crashing over you. Jungkook has spent quite a bit of time getting to know your body and memorizing the things he knows that you like.

“Come on my tongue, baby. I’ve got you.” Jungkook soothes before his mouth is back to devouring you.

One particularly harsh suck to your clit while his fingers finally join in on the fun is what sends you over the edge, clenching around his digits in spasms.

You’re lucky that no one could possibly hear you all the way up here. The moans and groans that you both make while Jungkook licks up every bit of your arousal are beyond obscene.

“Please get this web off of me,” you huff between breaths. Jungkook slowly raises his head and with a smile on his shiny face, reaches up and effortlessly rips the webbing from your wrists. 

You jolt upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your hands into his soft hair. Your mouths mold together automatically, your tongue tasting yourself from his lips.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook finally asks, pulling you into his lap.

“As long as I continue to pretend we aren’t thousands of feet in the air, I enjoyed it very much.” You both smile and you lean in to kiss the corner of his pierced lip. “You can’t always distract me with your extremely talented mouth though. I just…want you to try and be in my life.” You push some hair off of his forehead before he kisses your lips once more.

“It won’t always be this crazy, Data. I promise. I just want to make sure I help Jin as much as I can with this monster.” 

“I know.” You want to tell him that you wish you came first. That there’s always going to be another monster keeping you apart. But that’s the price you pay for loving a superhero. 

“Let me take you home?” He stands up, still holding you in his arms.

“Maybe let me put my pants back on first?” You laugh as he sets you down to retrieve your pants from a gargoyle statue. 

And then you’re back in his arms and swinging back to reality.

The sun is still warm even though fall is almost in full swing. Leaves are starting to change colors and slowly drop off the trees. You love the smell of them as they dance by you on the breeze.

Something you don’t love is the damn pigeons that have made their home in the nooks and crannies of all the old buildings on campus. They fly down from their nests and make nuisances of themselves with the students, trying to get pieces of food.

You’ve been continuously shooing them away as you attempt to do your homework. 

Sitting in the courtyard on top of a patchwork blanket, you’re lost in the numbers and formulas that keep you best distracted these days. So much so that you almost don’t see Jungkook before his head is in your lap and his smiling face is looking up at you, pigeons scattering about from his sudden movements.

“Good afternoon, Data,” he says cutely. You set down your notebook and pen, leaning down to kiss him.

“How nice to see you at school for once,” you tease, pulling his bottom lip gently between your teeth.

“Mm, things have been quiet for a couple of days. I got some sleep…and I missed you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to lay down with him across the blanket.

“What are you doing?” You laugh and push against his chest.

“Making sure everyone sees me kissing you.” 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” You comb your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. “If the wrong person sees?” 

Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes not meeting yours as his face scrunches in concentration. He abruptly sits up on his knees and you follow, looking around the courtyard.

“Something isn’t right.” Jungkook’s voice is low and quiet.

“What is it?” You continue to look around, seeing students walking to class or enjoying the sun in the courtyard like the two of you were.

Your eyes stop when you notice someone by the fountain taking photos with a professional type camera. His head of black messy hair is covered by a backwards black baseball hat. Long legs covered by snugly fit black jeans and his top half in a white button up, sleeves rolled halfway up in the most maddening way.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he’s suddenly looking right at you and you’re able to recognize who it is you’ve been drooling over. You feel embarrassment flood your face and body as you quickly look away, your heart racing in your chest.

Kim Taehyung. A photography student at your university. The best photography student if you remember correctly. You remember having a basic class with him your first year and he had seemed very nice. His smile was sweet, but the two of you didn’t talk to each other much at all. 

You did think he was absolutely stunning though, sometimes wishing you weren’t too shy to have spoken to him back then.

Your classes must have all been different after that, but you still see him around campus from time to time. Always taking pictures, but always alone. And last year he seemed to disappear altogether before reappearing when the new semester started.

When you get brave enough to look back up at him, you see he has his camera pointed at you, snapping pictures. You look away again so as not to alert Jungkook of what’s going on. Taehyung smiles when you look up out of the corner of your eye, before moving on to take pictures of something else. Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks, making you jump.

“I should be asking you that,” you manage to croak out.

“That weird sense of something being off is happening… I should go.” He starts to stand up and you grab his hand.

“What about this weekend? You’re still coming out with us right?”

He bends down and captures your lips in a quick but sweet kiss. “I promise I won’t miss it.” He gently nudges your forehead with his, making you roll your eyes with a smile as you watch him jog across the courtyard.

“Was that Jungkook?” Hoseok asks, sitting down across from you on the blanket.

“Um…yeah. He had to get to class,” you lie. Again. “Hey Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He stops grabbing books from his bag and looks up at you.

“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?” You nod towards the man with the camera, still taking pictures of some angel statues on the far side of the courtyard.

“He’s supposedly the best photography major at this school. He’s also…strange.” Hobi pretends to get a chill.

“Strange? Strange how?” You’re interest even more peaked than before.

“I don’t know, ____. I just heard some shit about him talking to himself all the time, and sometimes he comes to class all beat up.” Hobi brushes it off like it’s no big deal.

You don’t pester him any further, instead watching Taehyung as he takes a seat on a bench and starts scrolling through the pictures he’s taken on his camera. 

Maybe people are making things up about him because he’s different. People don’t like different for some reason. But you…you tend to be pulled towards the different. Or it tends to find you when you least expect it.

Saturday night has come and almost gone, and you’re still waiting for Jungkook to show up at Club Onyx to meet up with you and your friends. You’ve been waiting for hours and downing drinks the longer you go unanswered.

You’ve called and texted him over and over with no answer and are finally ready to just give up. Hobi gives you that pitiful look as you slam your phone face down onto the table.

“Fuck this, I’m getting another drink.” You don’t say it to anyone in particular and you don’t wait for anyone to answer before slipping into the crowd towards the bar.

“Can I get a Long Island please?” you ask the bartender when she approaches. You slouch down onto a barstool and see a familiar face on the other side of the bar.

Taehyung. Sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. The hat you usually see him wear is nowhere to be seen. Instead, his curly black hair has been somewhat styled over his forehead. He’s still wearing a white button up, but he’s left the top buttons undone this time, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

“Here you go.” The bartender hands you your drink just in time for Taehyung to look up from his phone and see you already looking at him.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, taking your drink and making a break for the dance floor as quickly as you can. 

The song playing isn’t one that you know, but as you chug down your drink you start to care less and less about knowing the song and just let yourself go. You want to have a good time and not mope about Jungkook standing you up once again.

You let strangers grind against you as you move across the dance floor, arms raised above your head and your hips swaying to the beat of the song. You’re a little tipsy as you place your glass down on the nearest table, but not enough to not know what’s going on. 

A slower song starts to play with more of an r&b feeling. You watch as people start to pair off, the movements of their bodies making heat rush through you and settle on your cheeks and  neck. You start to turn back to find your friends when you feel an arm slide around your waist, making you jump from the suddenness of being touched.

“Easy there, Pigeon,” a voice as deep as the ocean and smoother than satin says against the shell of your ear.

You twist your neck almost too quickly, eyes landing on the face of Taehyung. Your breath nearly disappears completely seeing him this closely.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but you don’t try to move away from him. God, you should move away but you can’t.

“You need someone to dance with.” He smiles and says the words with a matter of fact tone.

“I should find my friends…” Your brain finally starts to catch up and you move from his hold.

“One dance, Pigeon. Would be a pity to waste such a good song.” 

“Why are you calling me Pigeon? I have a name.” You fold your arms over your chest.

“I know your name. But the pigeons at school seem to have really taken a liking to you, I couldn’t resist.” His boxy smile widens.

“You’re not being very convincing about this dance.” You try not to smile.

Taehyung puts his hand out asking silently one more time for you to dance with him. There’s that nagging feeling that you shouldn’t, but there’s a bigger part that says Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend, and he stood you up after he promised not to miss this night.

You take his hand.

Taehyung pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulls you towards him, spinning you around at the last second to press your back against his front. You gasp when you immediately feel him lean over you and press his face into your neck, his nose skimming your skin.

His big but delicate hands find your stomach, slithering down until they reach your hips, slightly bunching your dress in his fingers.

He gently moves his hips and grinds against your ass in the most tantalizing way, reminding you that you did in fact agree to dance. Taehyung groans quietly in your ear when the pace of your hips becomes quicker with more added pressure from your ass into his crotch.

You let yourself relax against him, head falling back against his shoulder and exposing more of your neck to him. His impatient mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he kisses a soft line across your skin.

“Can’t believe your boyfriend would leave you all alone out here where the monsters can find you.” Taehyung's deep voice vibrates through your body and settles into your core.

“I don’t have a boyfriend…or monsters.” The words come out sounding breathless as he continues to press your body closer to his.

“We think you do.” His long tongue traces the shell of your ear. 

We? You let it go because your brain is too foggy with lust to wonder what that could even mean right now.

“I don’t,” you repeat, pushing thoughts of Jungkook away for just a night. Taehyung laughs quietly, pulling your lobe between his teeth as his hands move up your chest to cup your breasts.

You don’t even care who sees the way he’s touching you right now. You’re becoming so turned on that you know your panties have to be absolutely ruined at this point.

“Come home with me.” He spins you around to face him just as the song ends, your eyes fluttering open as he cups your face in his hands.

“That…I can’t.” Your eyes search his, hoping it will make you realize that you need to walk away. Instead, there’s something that tells you you’re safe, but that you’re also in for a world of trouble. You don’t know how you know, you just do.

“I’ll make you feel so good, Pigeon.” His mouth is almost on yours, lips just brushing as he whispers. This man is fucking undeniable.

“Okay,.” you cave. You just want to feel wanted. You want to matter more than a stranger on the street. You want Taehyung to make you forget how much it hurts when Jungkook lets you down over and over again.

“Good girl.” His warm mouth slots with yours as he kisses you feverishly. Like he’s been starving for years and your mouth is his only source of sustenance. It’s hot, fiery, and all-consuming.

Not even sure when his lips leave yours, you’re suddenly being pulled by your hand towards the club exit. Your brain clears and you look around for Hobi or any of your other friends but you don’t see them. And honestly, you hope that they don’t. You hope they didn’t see what happened on the dance floor and you hope they don’t see you leaving with someone who isn’t Jungkook. That would be far too messy to have to explain.

“Did you drive here?” You squeeze Taehyung’s hand and he pulls you closer to him.

“I did. I didn’t even finish my drink, I promise I’m safe to drive.” He eases your mind as the two of you push out of the door and turn towards the parking lot.

But your mind is only at ease for a mere minute before you realize that Taehyung is leading you towards what appears to be a very, very fast motorcycle. Everything on it is jet black and ridiculously sexy. You wish you weren’t absolutely terrified.

“I’m not getting on that.” You stop in your tracks.

“Why not?” Taehyung grabs the helmet off the back and offers it to you. “I’ll even give you the helmet.”

“I just…that looks dangerous.” 

“It is.”

“Glad you’re honest,” you half-laugh.

“The bike is dangerous, but I would never let anything happen to you, Pigeon.” Taehyung swings one of his long legs over the motorcycle, straddling it as he waits for you to make a decision.

“We hardly know each other, Taehyung.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t keep you safe on my motorcycle, or that we have to know everything about each other to feel something.” He holds the helmet out again and you feel your mouth go dry at his words.

The danger aside, there is no going back if you get on that motorcycle with him. There is no way you would have an untainted conscience ever again. Every time you were with Jungkook from this day on, you would have to think about the fact that at this moment, you also wanted Kim Taehyung to fuck you.

That should terrify you more than it does.

You grab your phone and quickly open it to see no messages or missed calls from Jungkook. Your answer gets a little clearer as you reach out and take the helmet from his hand.

“Carefully,” Taehyung says, taking one of your hands and guiding you to straddle the motorcycle behind him. You settle the helmet onto your head, and Taehyung smiles widely when he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re ready. 

When he starts the motorcycle, the vibrations from the engine immediately flood your body. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as tightly as possible, and you wait once again for the world to go past you far too quickly. The same way it always does when Jungkook is swinging you between buildings.

When he pulls out of the parking lot, he doesn’t go too fast like you thought he would. He takes his time weaving between the cars and taxis, making his way through the busy streets and closer to the docks. 

You don’t entirely hate the motorcycle ride. Nor do you hate the way Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and holds them against his chest, or the way he brings your knuckles to his lips to brush a kiss against each one while he steers with the other hand. You don’t hate the way he sometimes moves that hand down to tap your thigh to let you know he’s about to make a sharp turn. You wish you hated the motorcycle ride.

Taehyung presses a button on his phone and a door on one of the warehouses starts to lift up. He pulls through it, parking the bike once inside. Your legs feel like jello when you take his hand to try and stand up, stumbling a bit in his hold.

“Okay there, Pigeon?” Taehyung grasps the sides of the helmet and helps you take it off. He sits it on the back of the bike before coming back to help you straighten out your helmet hair.

“It wasn’t terrible.” You smile and so does he, fire moving through your veins the longer your eyes stay locked with his. You quickly clear your throat. “So, you live in a warehouse?”

“I used to live in the city. It was just too…busy. I needed space.” He takes your hand and leads you towards some metal stairs. But before he does, you notice several more motorcycles parked inside the open part of the warehouse. Who is Kim Taehyung?

At the top of the stairs, it opens into a large open loft area that has a surprising feeling of comfort to it. There’s a kitchenette off to the right with just the necessities: a fridge, small table, stove and microwave.

The left side of the room appears to be the bedroom. A big messy bed sits against a headboard with intricate black vines carved into the wood. Soft pillows are haphazardly lying in all directions, some on the floor with their feathers scattered across the room. Taehyung visibly stiffens when he sees you notice them.

“Sorry about those…I think I might have a raccoon stuck in here somewhere.” He laughs and moves to kick the busted pillows under his bed.

Strange. He’s a little strange.

“Do you need something to drink?” he asks.

“Should I be worried about being here, Taehyung?” 

“What? No. No, I promise you’re safe.” He crosses the room and comes to stand in front of you, concern evident on his perfect face.

“I just…I don’t do things like this. I’ve never even had a one night stand.” You card a hand through your hair and Taehyung tips your chin up to look at him.

“Why does it need to be just one night?” His face softens and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“Taehyung…I don’t know what I’m doing.” It’s barely a whisper.

His head tilts slightly to the side before it spasms slightly, an uncomfortable look painting his face as he shakes his head and gets the spasm under control. 

“Stop it.” Taehyung grits between his clenched teeth, mostly to himself.

“Are…are you okay?” Your worry grows by the second.

“Sorry…I’m sorry.” He cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, catching you off guard. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I’m not scared of you.” It isn’t a lie. You aren’t scared, but something is off. And you’re too stupid to leave. “Should I be scared?”

“Not of me.” He speaks as if someone else is in the room. 

His mouth finds yours again and lust takes the place of worry and concern. Taehyung easily grabs your thighs and lifts you off the ground as if you weigh nothing at all.

The next moments are a blur of clothing being stripped and bare skin coming in contact with hands and lips. Teeth scrape over nipples and long fingers drown themselves inside your dripping pussy. The warehouse echos with the sounds of your moans and his deep groans.

After your first thigh shaking orgasm, Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed and you kneel in front of him between his knees, taking his far too perfect cock into your mouth. You worship him with your tongue and make him come down your throat, his hands tightly gripping your hair.

Chills run through your sweaty body as he bends you over his bed and eases his cock inside you. Stars explode behind your eyelids while your fingers grip the bed sheets.

“He doesn’t fuck you enough, does he Pigeon? You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung’s fingers dig harshly into your hips as he mercilessly pounds you from behind.

You can only moan in response, the coil in your stomach tightening and threatening to burst again. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes and stain the sheets you’re so desperately clinging to.

His fingers suddenly start to feel sharper, like they could pierce your skin at any moment, past the point of hurting in a good way.

“Stop,” Taehyung growls and the piercing feeling of his fingers starts to let up. If your brain wasn’t so fogged by your oncoming orgasm you may have questioned who the hell he was talking to.

“I’m so close,” you whine, feeling Taehyung press himself closer to you, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and pushing you deeper into the mattress. The new angle  makes you feel him so deeply that even your stomach clenches and the dam finally breaks; you’re falling off the edge of the most shattering orgasm you’ve ever experienced.

Taehyung’s hips stutter as you clench around him, making him moan deep in his chest. When you can no longer hold up your body, he grabs your shoulder and flips you onto your back, then immediately slides his cock back inside your overly sensitive pussy.

You’re so blissfully fucked that it takes you a moment to focus your eyesight on his face. Sweaty black curls sticking to his forehead as you lift your heavy arms and dig your fingers into his hair so you can pull his mouth down onto yours.

“I almost…I almost lost control. You feel so good.” His tongue swipes into your mouth as he angles himself to hit your g-spot with every hard thrust of his hips.

“Please come, Taehyung.” Your nails dig into his back and leave scratch marks across his skin.

“Never wanted anyone as much as I want you…fuck we want you so badly.” He buries his face into your neck as he thrusts once, twice more before you feel him spill inside of you. Hips bruisingly tight against yours as his cock twitches each time more cum fills you up.

“Holy shit.” You move your hands back to his hair and gently lift up to see his face. You swear when he looks at you that all the color has drained from his eyes. They’re solid white.

You gasp and blink once, seeing Taehyung’s pretty brown eyes looking back at you in less than a second.

“Wh-what was that?” You’re still panting.

“What was what, Pigeon?” He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out and walks to his bathroom, giving you a chance to ogle his perfect little ass and the muscles of his back.

“I just…thought I saw something,” you say when he returns to the bed with a cloth for you to clean up with. You really need to get more sleep if you’re starting to see things.

“Did I hurt you?” Taehyung’s face is suddenly a lot more serious when he reaches out to run his fingers over the apple of your cheek.

You remember the way his hands felt on your hips. How they could’ve been on the verge of piercing through your skin. At least, that’s what you thought when it was happening.

Looking down at your hips, there’s obvious red marks from fingertips, but also scratch marks that just don’t seem like they could’ve come from Taehyung’s short cut nails. What the hell?

“I um…I think I’m okay.” You pull the covers up over your hips a little, hoping he won’t see.

“You should sleep here. I can take you home in the morning, I’m just too sleepy right now.” He pouts his mouth a little and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his side.

“Okay.” You’re admittedly too spent to call an Uber or argue with him about taking you home tonight. You just need to sleep. Sleep will fix everything. Tomorrow you will wake up and not feel like you’re losing your entire mind.

“…don’t ever fucking do that again…” You hear part of a conversation in your half asleep state. “I swear if you would have hurt her…”

Who the hell is Taehyung talking to in the middle of the night?

“She’s with the spider….liability.” A deep inhuman voice fills the empty air. Your eyes shoot open wide and every nerve is suddenly completely wired.

Are they…are they talking about Jungkook?

“She’s not. She said she’s not,” Taehyung’s voice answers, stress evident in his words.

“We should eat her now…” 

“No! You’ll have to kill me if you think you’re ever touching her. And we both know you can’t do that,” Taehyung yells.

You wrap the thin sheet around your naked body and slowly move towards the railing that overlooks the open part of the warehouse downstairs. You stay back far enough so not to alert anyone of your presence.

Looking down, you see Taehyung sitting at a table with his back towards you, wearing his black jeans slung low on his hips and nothing else. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

And that’s when it seems like the shadows around him start to move and your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Because not only do they move, but they have a face. A terrifying face that is seeping from the back of Taehyung’s neck and moving around him …as it talks.

“You’re weak for her,” the monster growls deeply, its huge teeth and unnaturally long tongue becoming more apparent as it moves into the light.

“We had a deal.” Taehyung seethes. “I’m literally the only person you haven’t killed when you bonded with them. You need me to get your symbiote friends home and I need you to take down that fucking lab.”

You can barely believe what you’re seeing or hearing. Is this the monster Jungkook was talking about? The one breaking into the lab across the river?

“Aren’t we friends?” The monster asks in a condescending way.

“Not if you hurt ____. She has no idea what she’s in the middle of and it should stay that way.” Taehyung holds his arms out straight and the monster starts to wrap its moving pitch black skin around him…its skin becoming his.

You’re so startled by the sight in front of you that you stumble back, knocking over an end table full of magazines and books. Fuck.

“Shit,” you hear Taehyung say before the monster has completely consumed him. What stands in his place is something you will never forget for the rest of your life.

The monster must be at least 8 feet tall, huge bulking muscles made of that inhuman black skin that constantly appears to be moving. Its  huge white eyes land right on you immediately, its  mouth and teeth pulling into a wicked smile as it jumps into the air and clears the railing in a single leap. You scream as the ground crunches beneath its feet when it lands in front of you.

The monster looms over you and all the breath in your lungs disappears.

“What…what are you?” you croak, fear freezing you in place.

“We…are Venom.”

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Jungkook's growth over the years ♡ I feel so honored to have the opportunity to watch him grow into this amazing person and such a talented artist. 970901 — Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook!