Daisy . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

She ♀Her ~

[lov3lanuage]

Forbidden Fruit 🍧

Dean Wincnester x Reader

tags: age gap, Dad's Best Friend, Angst, Fluff, period, Forbidden Love, Older Man/Younger Woman, Daddy Dean, slight nsfw, Texting, Kissing, Making Out, Sneaking Around, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Monsters, Happy Ending, Dirty Talk, Sweetheart, Flirting, Eventual Romance

The second your eyes opened in the morning you knew something was wrong. You groaned and rolled over in your bed, the gentle breeze from the window tickling your back and legs. You could feel it, the ache in your belly came every month on the dot. You fished your phone out from under the pillow and lo and behold, your tracking app had sent you a notification.

🚩🚩

Great. You thought. Pulling yourself out of bed you went straight to your en suite bathroom. After a shower, you pulled yourself together in simple, comfy lounge shorts and a nice cotton tank top. You spent most of the day in bed, watching crappy romance movies and eating chocolate. In the evening your cramps really started to kick in so you made your way downstairs to raid the cupboards for painkillers.

You padded into the kitchen where your mother and father were sitting at the dining table with Dean. Dean was your new-ish neighbour. Around 6 months ago, he moved a few houses down. Your father took a shine to him and his ’67 Chevy, and now they’re best buds. They watch football together and go watch baseball together, you could’ve sworn they knew each other in high school. Which is why you felt so guilty, see, Dean was unbelievably attractive. Today even more so, he was wearing a simple black t-shirt that you swear had shrunk around the arms to perfectly cup his biceps, plain dark blue jeans and boots. His face had been kissed by the sun, his freckles more prominent and his bright green eyes scanning over your body.

“Oh hi guys” you said.

“Hi, darling,” Dean said.

You and Dean had something unspoken between you. He was too old and you were too young. Even though you were 22, freshly into a new job and a fully independent adult, Dean was the same age as your father and he wouldn’t speak about it. But he knew you did something to him. Something so lustful it was almost a sin.

See, maybe a month ago, you were at a club with a friend, Hannah. Now, Hannah had found a boy she was willing to bring home. Did she tell you this while you were in the bathroom fixing your hair? No. She left. After calling her phone a few times and leaving the club you were stuck, she was supposed to be your ride home. The club doormen decided not to let you back into the club, “You know the rules, pet” one of them said. So when you came across Dean's contact in your phone your drunken mind told you, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to get permission.

The phone rang a few times before a gravelly voice spoke.

“(Y/n)?”

“Oh hey Dean uh-“

You heard shuffling on the other line, “You okay? It’s 1 a.m.,” he wasn’t scolding you, just questioning.

“I know I’m sorry! My friend left me and the club won’t let me back in and-“

He cuts you off “You’re out with Hannah right?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked.

“Stay there, I’ll be there in 10.” The line goes dead.

Fuck. You just called Dean. Your father was going to kill you. Giving his friend so much trouble. Your drunken brain has gone sober and now you are having to deal with all the after thoughts, he’s going to hate you for one, waking him up at 1am to come pick you up, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Wiping your palms on your dress you stopped. Shit, of course you decided to wear your little back dress tonight. A strappy slip dress with lace on the hem. You were slightly embarrassed, it’s a club dress! It’s not something Dean would see you in.

A low rumble snaps you out of your thoughts and you see Dean's Impala coasting around the corner, he pulls up directly in front of you and steps out. Your jaw nearly drops. He’s wearing a plain green shirt with grey sweater pants. You’ve only seen him in his usual shirt-and-jeans combo. “Oh my god Dean” you giggle.

“Don’t say a word” He smiles back. “Get in.” He opens the passenger door and you slip in. After a few seconds of wondering where he is, you gaze out the window, he’s talking to the doormen, pointing a finger at them with a stern look on his face. You scramble for the window crank and open the window ever so slightly. “-leaving a young woman like that on the streets, should be ashamed of yourself.” Dean spoke. He tutted and walked back around the car to the driver's seat. Dean slumped into the Impala and gave the doormen a look, “Idiots,” he said as he started the engine and drove off.

The first few minutes were silent apart from the whistling of the wind through your slightly open window, and a bottle of water rolling around in the footwell. Deciding to break it you spoke. “Dean, I am so sorry, I thou-“

“Don’t you dare be sorry” he glanced at you. His hand gripped the wheel and the other rested on his leg. His eyes found your bare knees and skimmed your body until they met your gaze. “I gave you my number for a reason, and that Hannah girl, I knew she was trouble.”

You scoffed. “Hey Hannah’s a good girl, she’s going through a lot right now.” You defended her. Her father had recently been in an awful car accident that ended his life, so you were willing to give her some grace.

He nodded, bringing his free hand to his mouth to chew on his nails. You shivered, going back to the window crank to pull the window closed. “Here,” Dean spoke, without taking his eyes off the road he reached into the back seat and pulled a big leather jacket out. You slid closer to him and pulled the jacket over your shoulders. Without a word, Dean's hand slid some wrinkles out of the jacket and eventually settled over the back seat, centimetres away from you. Still shivering you pushed your hands between your thighs to try and get some warmth. “Come ‘ere” Dean's arm enclosed your shoulders and pulled you in until you were squished against him.

God, he was warm. “You’re like a radiator,” you said. Your drunken mind seemed to have come back as your hands found themselves touching him, one arm went behind him and hugged him from behind and the other settled on his chest. Your leg moved closer until it was hooked just above his knee.

Dean’s chest rose and fell as he took in a breath. “You’re killing me here sweetheart” he whispered. Your heart stopped, you’ve had a crush on Dean since the day he moved in, were you ever confident enough to do anything or even think he would like you back? No? The man’s your father's best friend.

You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “What?” You whispered.

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Eyes never moving off the road. Shit, he knew. Hannah probably told him about your stupid crush, you wanted to slap yourself. You knew speaking to her and your friends was a bad idea. “You’ve seen how I look at you… God, you’re like forbidden fruit.” Wait, what?

You moved fully now, the jacket falling off and exposing your shoulders. “Dean what the fuck are you talking about?”

The Impala came to a sudden stop, you peered out the windshield and saw he’d pulled over in a lay bay. Turning back to him you gulped. He pinched his nose bridge and let his hand slide down his face until it rested in his lap. “Look, you’re my friend's daughter, and I don’t know why I feel this way toward you but I do,-“

“What way Dean?” You spoke more firmly now, he wasn’t scaring you but he was definitely dancing around the subject. Your heart was racing, almost as if your body knew what he was going to say before your mind.

Dean sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but” he looked at you, fully this time. “I know no man will ever be good enough for you, unless it’s me. I want to protect you, I hate seeing you sad and after your father told me you were going out tonight, God, I was practically waiting for you to call me.” You blinked. You were flushed with emotion, the alcohol definitely didn’t help.

Without a second thought, you pushed forward off the seat and slid closer to him. Hands catch his shirt and pull him in to meet your lips. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, as if he was too scared to move, you pulled in again and kissed him harder, lips moving until his tongue found yours. The kisses turned sloppy, his hands gripping your thighs.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, heaving “Stop.” He whispered.

You gulped. “I’m sorry” you whispered back. Had you gotten the wrong idea? What was that about just now then? You pulled back again and hung your head “I thought I had the right idea I just,” you stumbled over your words. “I like you, Dean. I know it’s stupid I shouldn’t have kissed you I just-“

His hand found your chin and yanked your head up to meet him. His thumb rested over your lips to stop you speaking. “I asked you to stop because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.” You were wide-eyed. Practically gawping at him. “If you weren’t his daughter..” he leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin. “I would’ve had you in the back seats by now.”

Blood rushed through your body. You felt as if you were vibrating like a tuning fork from the anticipation. It fell silent, and only your breathing could be heard. Your senses were dialled up to eleven, every breath, every blink was noticed. “Then have me.” You whispered. The thumb on your lips dragged down to your chin. Dean's hand cradled your jaw and neck. Your hand found his knee and gently trailed further and further up.

He spoke your name, “You need to stop”. You paused at his knee. “It’s wrong, I can’t.”

You shuffled closer to him. “Dean. I don’t care” You hands found his face this time, now seeing him in the lowlight of the street lights you could see he was flushed too. “I seriously do not care. I’ve never wanted a man like I want you before.”

He groaned and his head tipped back and you took the opportunity to slide over the seat and into his lap, testing him. His hands settled on your hip, his fingers playing with the lace on the hem of your dress. “You’re going to kill me.” He whispered, you grinned, bearing down into his lap, he groaned as you teased his growing hard on.

His hands flew from your hips and he grabbed your face smashing his lips into yours. You squeaked as he kissed you, hard and rough, one hand slid to the back of your neck and the other found your ass. All these months of stolen glances and flirty jokes with Dean and you’re here. Him pouring you a beer at the family BBQ, and his hand is resting just a touch too long on your back. Months of wanting to ask about his day, his family, his history. Finally, you’re kissing him.

A noise made both of you slow to a stop, police sirens. You peered through the back window and saw faint flashing lights getting closer. “Shit,” Dean spoke. You scrambled off his lap, back into the passenger seat and hauled the leather jacket off the floor back onto your shoulders. The cop car got dangerously close, and you and Dean looked at each other, trying to find an excuse.

Before the cop car stopped, an idea flew into your head. You turned in your seat and opened the door. “What are you doing?!” Dean whispered yelled. You grabbed the bottle of water and poured half of it onto the floor, hoping Dean would catch on. You’re just a drunk girl who needed to pull over to be sick. Drunk and sick.

A knock on the window and then the squeak of the window crank as Dean rolled down the window “What’s going on-oh, Dean Winchester.” The officer spoke.

“Officer.” He spoke back.

“Is the young lady alright?” The officer's flashlight lit you up, casting a shadow on the dirt outside and the wet patch you conveniently made.

Dean sighed. “She’s alright. It’s Pete’s daughter, I’m just picking her up from the bar, she’s gotten herself a bit drunk.” You could hear the sarcasm in Dean's voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“Pete from that old music shop on Main Street?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright, well. I have water in my car if she wants that.” The officer asked.

“No sir, she has some.”

“Okay, well get her home safe Winchester. See you round buddy.”

“See you, officer.”

You listened as the officer got back in his car and drove off, giving Dean a wave. You slumped back into the seat and shut the door. “Holy shit.” You giggled. Dean was less impressed, so he started the car and drove off with a wheel spin.

As you pulled into your street he spoke “That can’t happen again” You looked over at him. He didn’t meet your eyes this time, just gazing at the buttons on the centre console. “If your father hears-“

“He won’t. I promise.”

“Listen to me!” He said firmly, “I won’t allow it to happen again. It’s wrong and I’m sorry.”

You gulped, emotion overcoming you. What was he even saying, did you do something wrong? Was he ashamed of you? God you were right, why would he ever take to the likes of someone like you? “I heard you.” You shoved off the jacket. Tears brimming in your eyes.

“(Y/n) wait, don’t be upset.”

You stepped out of the Impala, “No I heard you, loud and clear.” You didn’t dare slam the door, you wanted to, but it was 2am, and this car was Dean's baby. Without looking back you jogged up your lawn to the house, creeping up the deck and through the back door. You cried that night, whether because you were drunk or it was real emotion.

So now, after Dean had visited less frequently and watched fewer and fewer games with your father, you really thought you had blown it. But here he was, sitting in your kitchen.

“Anyway, there’s a game this Friday buddy.” Your father spoke. Pulling Dean back into the conversation.

You ignored them and continued to raid the kitchen for painkillers, while looking you stumbled on some cookie dough mix and your period cravings kicked in. They only needed an egg and 30 mins in the oven so screw it.

“Honey you’re not making those cookies are you?” Your mother spoke. Great, while your mother was your mother, her relationship with food wasn’t great, growing up in a dieting culture meant she often commented on your food. You knew she was learning it was a bad habit but she slipped up so much. She was standing next to you now, reading the packet. “Ugh so many calories-“ she stopped herself when she saw your face.

“Mom, really?” You sighed. “You know what? Never mind-“ you snatched the mix out of her hands and threw it back in the cupboard. Leaving the kitchen through the back door you sighed as you sat on the bench at the front porch. You looked out onto the sunset, the faint sounds of kids playing and birds tweeting.

The back door squeaked open and footsteps approached you. “Mom please leave me alone.” You groaned into your hands.

“You know-“ a deep voice spoke. You jumped and sat up, staring at Dean. “I wanted one of those cookies.”

You scoffed. “Yeah well, she ruined it for you.” You were being a brat now, maybe it was your hormones or the fact that you were still pissed off with Dean? Either way, you didn’t care, your heart was broken.

Dean chuckled. “Go put some shoes on, I’ll get you cookies”

Your head snapped to him. After weeks of him avoiding you, now he wants to put out the olive branch. “What?”

“Go put some shoes on. Before I change my mind”

You scrambled up out of the bench now, feet padding into the kitchen to find the closest shoes, some slip-on crocs will do. Your parents were nowhere to be seen so you slipped out as quickly as you could. As you padded across the porch you could hear the Impala running, and as you thought, Dean was there, window rolled down watching you.

You trotted over and slid yourself into the seat, and Dean drove off. It was mainly silent. So many questions ran through your head but you were too scared to ask them. You gazed out the window and watched the streets passing by, wondering where he was taking you. Was that night a mistake? You thought about that night, what if you had never called Dean? Got a cab home instead. You wouldn’t be here right now. Or maybe it would’ve happened another way, you sneak him a kiss at a BBQ maybe? God, you didn’t know.

“Stay here,” Dean spoke. You didn’t even realise you had stopped. Before you could speak he exited the car. Your eyes followed him as he walked down the street and around a corner. So you played with a piece of fraying fabric on your shorts until the car door opened again. You jumped and Dean grinned at you.

“These look great” he handed you a brown paper bag, and the smell of fresh cookies filled the car.

“Oh my god Dean” you grinned. They looked delicious, fresh cookies with melted chocolate chips. “I could die” you fake-melted into the seat and Dean chuckled.

“Don’t eat them yet sweetheart” you pouted and he lifted a finger.

“We’ve got one more stop.”

You nodded. You held the cookies in your lap while Dean drove off, he fiddled with the radio for a bit until some music started playing. He seemed happier today, the few times he did come over he seemed not himself. Like he was wrestling with himself to let go or be your dad's friend. He always tensed up when you came into the room, it wasn’t like that before. Before the kiss you would always find him near you, ghosting over your shoulder. Even from across the room his eyes always found you. You remembered once at the bar, the same bar he picked up from, you stumbled into him, he commented saying you were too young to be in here and you winked at him telling him to shut up. He laughed then. He let you flirt. So what changed?

A sign on the road brought you out of your thoughts, in big bold writing.

DRIVE-THROUGH CINEMA

Dean followed the sign and drove down a little dirt road until a few people in hi-vis jackets came walking down to his window. “Good evening welcome to the drive-through cinema, any drinks or food for you today?” The man spoke.

“Uh yes.” Dean fished his wallet out of the glove compartment. “Two Cokes and 1 large popcorn for the lady.”

“And what flavour, we have, sweet, salty and butter?” The man in hi-vis leaned down a bit.

Dean looked at you, and his hand landed on your knee. “What’d you want sweetheart?”

You told him the flavour and the hi-vis man gave Dean a ticket and said the drinks and popcorn would be over in about 5 minutes, Dean nodded and drove the Impala into the nice parking spot in the middle, you could clearly see the screen and it wasn’t that busy with other cars.

Dean reached in the backseat and pulled out a giant fluffy blanket. He nodded his head, signalling you to come in closer to him, you slid along the seat and cuddled up to him under his arm. After about two minutes of awkward silence the sound of grassy footsteps made Dean fully roll down his window, he thanked the hi-vis man and placed two Cokes on the dash and handed you your popcorn.

The movie started after about five minutes, of course, it was The Notebook.

“Dean?” You questioned. His arm was behind you, rubbing your shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Well Noah and Ally have just met but-“

You sighed and sat up “No, not the movie.” You turned a bit to face him. “This. Me, you, us.”

“Sweetheart I-“

“No. Don’t sweetheart me.” You turned away from him now, tears filling your eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” His hand rubbed your back as you gently breathed, trying to stay calm.

“Come ‘ere” he pulled you back into his side and kissed your head. “I’m sorry, alright.” His fingers trailed circles on your shoulder as he spoke, you didn’t dare look at him. “That night, I had a lot to think about, I thought about if I lost you, if you shut me out and god forbid dated some lowlife boy and I’d have to watch.” You could hear the anger dripping from him, you could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt. “I can’t do it.” his free hand slid from his lap and touched your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I can’t let you go.”

He kissed you gently, lips barely ghosting yours. You reached up and grabbed his hand on your chin, you pulled back and kissed it. “What does this mean?”

He smiled and brushed your hair out of your eyes. “It means sweetheart. I want to do this properly, you, me, us.” Your heart fluttered. “Now, we’ll have to be careful the first few months. I don't want your father shooting me.” You both giggle and he rests his forehead on yours. “But I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You kissed him. Fully this time, letting all the weight off your shoulders, and he let you. All the emotions from the past are gone, a distant memory, you forgive him for it. The wall he had up is gone. “You’re mine.” Dean breathed. You giggled and repeated it to him. He gave you a few pecks on the cheek and moved you to settle back down under his arm with the blanket on your legs.

The sun set and the movie dragged on, you liked The Notebook but you were too full of emotions to even care. After eating some popcorn a dull ache started in your lower abdomen, your period. Luckily you changed your pad before going downstairs earlier but your cramps had come back. You fidget with pain, playing with the coke can and then crossing and un-crossing your legs trying to get comfy.

“What’s the matter?” Dean whispered.

“I’ve got cramps.” You whispered, slightly embarrassed.

Dean moved you so you were in between his legs and then kicked his legs up the seat so you were both lying horizontal across the seats. Your back rested on his chest, and you could feel the best radiating off him. One arm hugged you just under your chest and pulled you up and closer while the other rested on your hip. His fingers played with the fabric on your shorts for a second before moving across your belly. “Can I touch you here?” He whispered. You nodded. Dean's big hand ghosted along your soft belly, his fingers prodded under the waistband until his whole hand rested there. He gently rubbed his hand in circular motions, soothing your cramps. “Is that better?”

You nodded and brought your hand up to his face, pulling him into a kiss. “Much, thank you”

As time went on Dean continued to massage your supple belly, his hand getting dangerously lower and lower. Your breathing had become shallow, trying to calm yourself. His lips found your ear. “Do you know how tempting it is right now, to let my fingers wander down your little panties?” You squeaked in response, heat flooding your body.

“Dean, we can’t.” You chuckled, “I’m on my period. Duh” you whispered.

You felt him chuckle and his hand drew soft circles on your hip “Hey, a real man can handle blood.” He whispered again. This shut you up, you wanted the ground to swallow you so you pulled the blanket up and hid under it. “If it were any other day my hand would be down there by now, making you feel good” You blushed deeply. “An orgasm is the best thing for cramps you know.” He kissed your head as his hand gripped your thigh, he was teasing you now. “But I’m a gentleman, and want to do this the right way.”

This made you laugh, “you? A gentleman?” You sat up and laughed at Dean.

He laughed and pulled you back. You stayed like that for some time, the movie was nearing an end and most cars were leaving. Your blinks were getting longer and your head was drooping. Dean moved you so he sat upright and you were laid across the seats with your head in his lap. He stroked your hair for a bit before putting the Impala in gear and driving off. Dean had never driven safer, not that he was a bad driver but he didn’t want to wake you.

He pulled up outside your house a few minutes later, with only the landing light on upstairs. He stared at you for a few moments, taking in all the memories from when he first saw you to picking you up at the club. He wanted to kick himself for being so closed off. Yes, you were his friend's daughter but he was acting as if it had never happened before. People date people all the time, as long as they’re consenting adults then who cares? He made a promise to himself now, to make up for the months he was closed off. Anything you wanted, even those sappy dates, he would do. He’d give you anything. That thought scared him, he thought about what would happen when your parents found out, gauging both reactions. Obviously, it would be a miracle if they were open to it but he knew it wouldn’t be the case.

“Dean?” You spoke. You rose out of his lap and rubbed your eyes. “Oh, we’re home.”

Dean let his hand rest on your naked shoulder “You fell asleep, sorry sweetheart.”

“No it’s okay.” You folded the blanket up in your lap and placed it in the back seat.

“Oh there’s a hoodie back there if you want it” Dean said. You gave him a look. A raised eyebrow and a grin. “What?”

“Dean Winchester lets girls have his hoodie?” You smiled as you pulled the hoodie from the back. It was plain black and worn in a few places.

“Ah”, he holds up a finger. “I’m giving my only hoodie to one girl. My girl.” He kisses you quickly and then pats your bottom. “It’s late, get to bed.”

“Okay” you slide out of the Impala and slowly walk up the lawn to the porch, before climbing the stairs you turn to see him still idling on the road. Eyes locked on you. He made a motion with his hand Go, he mouthed. You giggle and nod, you creep into the house and upstairs past your parents’ room and into your own. You briskly go over the window where your eyes meet with Dean again. Once he’s satisfied you’re safe inside he waves, and the Impala drives off, you peer down the street and watch as he pulls into the drive. You realised how agonising this might be. He’s so close yet so far. Coming away from the window you settled into bed with Dean's hoodie on, your laptop flipped open and the lights off.

After a few minutes of tidying your bedsheets, a ping came through your phone.

Dean

You better be wearing my hoodie - 12:38pm

You giggled and kicked off your shorts, just wearing your panties and his hoodie. Snapping a pic you eagerly sent it to him

You

[1.8MB JPEG]

Enough proof for you Winchester? - 12:41pm

Text bubbles started and disappeared a few times before the next message came through.

Dean

You’re gunna be the death of me - 12:46pm

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET MASTERLIST

PAIRING : dean winchester x younger fem!reader

SUMMARY : dean moves into the house next door, just after you leave for college. during your time away, he becomes your dad’s best friend, and you couldn’t be less interested in meeting him, knowing so. when you return for summer break, you meet a handsome stranger at the bar and hit it off, but you have to leave before exchanging information. the next morning, you realize the stranger was dean, your dad’s best friend, and the man next door.

WARNING : age gap. pining. flirting. teasing. language. fluff. angst. smut. older!dean. younger!reader. dbf!dean. neighbor!dean. secret relationship. forbidden love. (each chapter will have it’s own warning. i would include more but i don’t wanna give anything away!)

A/N : you can call it an au but i’m calling it ‘the ending dean should’ve had,’ which means he didn’t die and i’m writing a fun version of his happily ever after. and yes, i combined two tropes; you’re welcome.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[kissthigh]

.ᐟ.ᐟ masterlist

♡ all of my dad's best friend works — ᨳଓ this includes Beau Arlen + oc inserts

Boyfriend series (age-gap + taboo) — ᨳଓ : these stories are self-insert, no mentions of y/n or character descriptions.

♡ early morning road trip (sfw)

♡ lazy morning, lazy mouth (18+)

♡ got your bible, got your gun (sfw)

♡ winding down (18+)

♡ misbehaved (sfw)

♡ inexperienced (18+)

♡ in heat, literally (18+)

♡ sleepy (18+)

♡ one bad decision (18+)

♡ sinful (18+)

♡ falling behind (18+)

♡ first time (18+)

♡ bruised knees (nsfw)

♡ secret admirer (sfw)

♡ time and place (sfw)

♡ his bunny (sfw)

♡ tired out (18+)

♡ drive-in date (sfw)

♡ perfect neighbour (sfw)

♡ eating you (18+)

♡ a christmas party (18+)

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

♡ stay quiet (18+)

♡ protectin' you (sfw)

♡ angel girl (18+)

[suga-kookiemonster]

ctrl alt del | jjk

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader word count⇢ 19.8k 🤭 genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, corporate nonsense, jk is a nerd but he's also really hot 😩 a/n⇢ omg, she's finally here 😭 this fic has been sitting in my drafts partially finished for literal YEARS lmfaoo. as in, jungkook didn't even have tattoos yet years ☠️ in fact, the whole plot for this was spawned from that time namjoon was on a live in his studio and jk visited in this yellow buttonup looking like a hot nerd and namjoon said he looked like he had an interview. it had to be 2018ish...i know my OGs know exactly what i'm talking about, but i'll put it below the cut for reference. ANYWAYS this was fun to imagine, but it's also entirely fiction so please don't attempt anything that happens in this fic lmao. mood for this fic is this. hope you enjoy~ 💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

While you’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every quarter the company sponsors an employee barbecue where everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though friendly, she has zero filter and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in certain situations where you found her topic of choice inappropriate. 

Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate instead of your measly Assistant means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started and is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply truthfully. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales Boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from Accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “That sounds unnecessarily smelly. He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue button-up. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you prompt, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. They rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs in disinterest. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask distractedly. A glance back to the coolers shows Jungkook is gone, and you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy reminds you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching his athletic display across the grass anyway.

Monday morning—the start of the workweek, but also, rather depressingly, the end of the weekend. Everyone tends to be more tired and grumpy on Mondays (yourself included), and this is why your team considers it essential that you always stop by their preferred coffeeshop and bring in their drinks for a morning pick-me-up. You’re the lowest on the ladder, so you weren’t exactly sure how to refuse when you were asked one day if you would mind picking up some drinks for everyone, and then, after that, people kept sending you their orders like it was expected of you. The café is technically on your way to work and everyone always pays you back, but it’s still pretty irritating to have to forgo those extra precious minutes of sleep just so you can beat the long lines and get to work on time.

Today, you’re lucky enough to get ahead of the morning rush, but that means that you end up trudging into the building much earlier than you anticipated. You hope the coffee’s insulated cups do their job properly, because you really don’t have the energy to listen to Joy huff and puff about having to reheat hers.

Your trek to your cubicle slows when you realize that someone is already there, sitting in your chair and typing away on your keyboard. Their back is to you, swathed in an olive button-up, and it’s not until you get close enough to curiously crane your head to see their face that you recognize him. The guy from the barbecue last week—the one by the coolers.

He startles a bit when he sees you approach in his peripheral vision, eyes darting up at you in surprise.

“Hi.” You raise the tray you’re holding in an awkward greeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”

“That’s okay, _____,” he replies softly, wide eyes blinking a little from behind his round glasses. “I can get kind of spacey when I’m focused on something. I was just doing some updates on your machine and didn’t see you.”

“You…” Your head tilts curiously. “You know my name?” 

A small smile touches his lips as he points to your computer. “I’m updating your machine,” he reminds you.

Not to mention the fact that he’s literally sitting in your cubicle, you name tag clearly posted on the frosted glass that separates your space from Joy’s. An embarrassed chuckle leaves you when you realize your dumbass mistake. “Oh. Duh. Wow, that was a stupid question. Let me just get out of your way.”

“No, no, I’m clearly the one in the way!” His head shakes apologetically. “I couldn’t do this update remotely and I thought you didn’t clock in for another half hour—sorry about that.”

“I don’t,” you confirm. “But I tend to get here a little early so I can sort out everyone’s coffee order.”

A brow raises in surprise. “Do they really have you making coffee runs?” he asks incredulously.

You hmm in confirmation, moving to set the coffee on everyone’s desks. “Rite of passage, I guess,” you call over the divider as you work. Joy’s order today isn’t as over the top as you know she can be, but you were still rather embarrassed to order it (vanilla latte with oatmilk—one and a half pumps cinnamon, one pump hazelnut, an extra espresso shot and extra foam with honey drizzle). The barista had looked at you tiredly but hadn’t voiced her obvious judgement when she rung you up. 

“I guess,” you hear him say, but he doesn’t sound too convinced. 

Coffee distributed and hands finally free, you return to lean against your cubicle, hovering as he continues to quickly type and click. You look at him pointedly, a small smile creeping across your face. “Speaking of grunt work, I hear you’re the printer guy.”

His lips quirk. “I’m also the expert at updating Microsoft Word, just so you know.”

You laugh, and his eyes crinkle in amused response. “Oh, well excuse me, sir.”

“I’ll let it slide this once. Since you’re new.”

“And so are you. That’s why you’re the printer guy.”

He just lets out a puff of air that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. This close, you can now see the tiny holes that are trailing up his earlobe—he clearly has multiple ear piercings, not just the ones you saw at the barbecue. There is no jewelry in them now, though. 

“Jungkook, right?”

It’s his turn to look surprised, and you find yourself satisfied by the flush creeping up the back of his neck when he ducks his head in confirmation. 

“Us newbies gotta stick together,” you stage whisper behind a conspiratorial hand before leaning decidedly away. “Anyway, let me stop bothering you and go make some coffee.”

His eyebrows scrunch in clear confusion. “Didn’t you just bring some?”

“…Yeah, I am only just now recognizing just how bizarre this must seem,” you say sheepishly. “But none of those were for me—fancy specialty drinks aren’t really in my budget, so I tend to just brew a cup here.” 

“Did you say drinks?” a voice croaks, and when you turn your head, there’s Joy, walking towards the two of you. If her body’s sluggish movements weren’t enough to clue you in to the fact that she’s exhausted and possibly hungover, the designer sunglasses she’s wearing to tactfully hide half her face certainly do.

“On your desk,” you chirp as she walks past you without another glance. “Good morning!”

There is no response from the other side of the cubicle wall, and Jungkook frowns a bit, but you just give him a small shrug that translates to what can you do? before pushing off the wall to continue your trek to the kitchen. “You want one?” you offer. “I make a mean cafeteria coffee. Trial and error has taught me the exact temperature of tap water to use to make it taste less like sludge.”

His mouth smoothes back out at your joke, and though you wait for him to call you out on your ridiculous declaration, his gaze is already back on your computer. “No thank you,” comes his soft reply.

With a nod to yourself, you move to complete your task and leave Jungkook to work on his. When you return minutes later, newly-filled mug in hand, he’s already gone.

Today starts out pretty typically. After bringing everyone’s coffee, you settle into monitoring the company’s social media accounts. (When Joy first delegated this task to you, you were a bit confused, as social media is so vital to brands nowadays that handling it is technically a whole other full-time job. But it turns out you don’t have to do much above the intern level anyway—just answer customer questions and escalate issues if need be.)

Your manager has been out traveling for a week, but today she finally comes back to the office, and it makes for a nice change of pace when she hands you all of her scattered, hurriedly-scribbled notes and asks you to please transcribe them into something more cohesive and legible. Well, not nice, exactly (because at the end of the day, this is still busywork), but if you have to reply to one more Facebook comment with instructions that are clearly already on the product packaging, there is a pretty likely possibility you will scream. 

This is at least slightly less mind-numbing. Instead of copy-pasting things from a prewritten script, you get to try to make sense of what your boss had been trying to say when she wrote turkey club in the corner of a page filled with random numbers and dates. Was this important? Was it simply her plans for lunch that day? You and your fancy college degree have the pleasure of trying to figure that out while Joy and Alan, the web manager, get to actually do important things that are in their job descriptions.

Still, like every day, you try to dampen your frustration, try to keep a positive attitude. Because ultimately, this is an opportunity to grow your boss’s confidence in you, and that’s exactly what you want. Though you’re a little disheartened by all the busywork, you remind yourself it will all be worth it in the end. Your hope is that if you put in the time, you’ll eventually be trusted with more of the nitty gritty stuff. 

(You know…the stuff you actually got your degree for.)

But no matter how positive you are, things of course don’t go as smoothly as they should. After you’ve done a pretty fantastic job (if you say so yourself) of organizing and typing everything up, you send your manager the digital version. And, because you know the email may accidentally get buried in her inbox, you decide to print a physical copy for good measure.

You give the printer pretty simple, straightforward directions. One copy, double-sided (to do your part to save Mother Earth), the whole document typed in plain old black and white. But when you walk over, there’s nothing waiting for you in the printing tray. No humming to clue you in to the fact that the printer was working on your job. Nope. Instead, the admittedly ancient machine is quiet and still, and it stays that way for long enough for you to walk back to your computer to press the print button again, just in case you forgot to do so the first time. Still no dice. You frown, opening the paper tray to make sure it was full, then opening every other compartment that can possibly be opened to make sure there isn’t a paper jam somewhere.

Nothing.

Irritated, you stalk back to your desk, your first inclination to check with Joy and see if she has been having any of the same issues, but you find her chair empty. Probably got pulled into a meeting that they don’t find it necessary to loop you in on, even though it will ultimately be you who does all the grunt work for any action items the meeting produces.

Positive, you remind yourself, falling back into your chair and drumming your fingertips against your desk in thought. Maybe it’s not the printer at all. Maybe it’s your computer. You search your desk drawer for the introductory employee contact sheet HR had given you when you first started, and there he is—Jeon, Jungkook.

For a second, you consider sending him an email, but the green dot that displays he’s online has you shooting him a message instead. Much less formal, but likely quicker for the both of you.

You Hey Jungkook! Sorry to bother you, but I can’t print for some reason You The printer over here is ignoring me, and I don’t think I’m set up to print by the art directors

Despite what you originally assumed, he doesn’t answer immediately, obviously focused on something else. Still, you only have to wait a few minutes before you hear the soft ding you were waiting for. 

Jungkook Jeon Hi, _____. You mean the large printer by the marketing department, correct?   You Yes! I tried a couple times, but I don’t think the job even went through You Thought it best to just ask the printer guy 🙂

There’s a pause, one long enough that you worry that he’s forgotten about your lighthearted exchange from this morning. Shit. That was stupid of you. You’ve probably offended him. Fuck.

But if Jungkook is upset with you, he’s professional enough that it doesn’t come across at all in his next message. If anything, he just seems a little preoccupied. 

Jungkook Jeon Hmmm, let me check it out for you. Mabel can be a little uncooperative. You Mabel? 

Silence again, this time for a good five minutes. You answer some emails so you’re not just sitting there twiddling your thumbs. 

Jungkook Jeon Sorry, was running some diagnostics in the background to see if I could find the problem  IT kinda calls that printer Mabel because we’re pretty sure she’s worked for the company for longer than all of us combined. Seems fitting

You can’t help but snort at that. Cute, and likely not inaccurate. Mabel, it is.   

Jungkook Jeon One of these days Mabel’ll finally retire, but it won’t be today—looks like she’s running fine. Do you mind checking for me and seeing if you can access the marketing server? 

A few clicks, and when double clicking on the server icon doesn’t bring up the same list of folders it usually does, it confirms the conclusion the both of you have already come to—your computer is the problem, not Mabel.

You No dice 😕 Jungkook Jeon Got it. I think something went weird with your network connection after I updated your machine this morning. I can fix that for you! You Awesome! I appreciate it! Jungkook Jeon Of course! Can’t have my sparkling reputation as the Printer Guy tarnished so easily 😉 You LOL

You allow him remote access to your computer when a pop-up prompts you to, and he gets you up and running before your manager’s meeting is even over.

Lunch has always been an interesting—albeit potentially exhausting—part of your day. You learned early on that attempting to take the break you were legally entitled to at your desk did not stop anyone from continuing to ask you for things. Unfortunately, there weren’t many solutions to this problem—you didn’t get paid enough to be able to consistently eat your lunches out, and you lived too far away from the office to go home for lunch instead. So, you started taking your lunch break a little earlier than most of your other coworkers did, ensuring that the cafeteria was pretty empty and allowing you the space to decompress and eat your bagged lunch in peace. 

And as things usually went with this company, it didn’t take long for that peace to be interrupted. Once she noticed you disappearing from your desk, curiosity had Joy tagging along one day, and after that, it only took a couple weeks before both she and Wendy joined you. 

(Later, you would have the great idea to simply enjoy your bagged lunch in the park a few blocks away, but the weather wasn’t always great and at that point, the other two started to expect you to eat with them.)

So that’s exactly how you’re spending your lunch now—scarfing down the soup you made a few days ago that you’ll eat until it’s completely gone, while Joy and Wendy giggle and gossip to each other. As much as they apparently want to eat lunch with you, they tend to be pretty nonplussed by how you never contribute much to their inane conversations. 

And you’re fine with that. In the time it’s taken them to get comfortable invading your zen time, you’ve learned how to properly tune their tittering out. You’re good at nodding at the right times, at throwing in perfectly placed hums that indicate you’re listening, even when you’re not.

Today, it’s a sudden, uncharacteristic pause in their chatter that prickles against your diverted attention.   “That’s weird,” you hear Wendy mutter, and that officially throws you out of you mentally making your grocery list. The intrigued way she’s looking behind you makes you reflexively turn, and that’s when your eyes set on Jungkook.

He hadn’t been there when you first sat down for lunch, but he is now, sitting alone a couple tables away. He’s the only other person in the cafeteria, but from the AirPods in his ears and the way his eyes are focused on his phone screen, you doubt he’s even noticed this fact.  

Joy’s lips downturn slightly into a puzzled frown. “Hmm. IT guys never come down voluntarily from their tower.” 

Your head tilts as you mull over that. That isn’t exactly true. You have only seen Jungkook in passing a few times over the last couple weeks, but those few times prove IT aren’t exactly the antisocial specters the two women in front of you keep painting them as. You have even exchanged the short pleasantries with him that are socially expected when crossing paths at the coffeepot.  

“Wonder what he’s doing here?” Wendy says, not nearly quietly enough in your opinion. Embarrassment  flashes hot through you, inwardly chastising yourself for continuing to associate with such casually judgmental people. You’re already mentally preparing to apologize for your lunch mates when a covert glance out of the corner of your eye shows that Jungkook’s still paying your group no attention, taking distracted bites from his sandwich as his head bobs slightly to whatever is playing through his headphones.

“Whatever,” Joy says with a dismissive shrug, and then just that easily, the two are back gossiping about Cindy in HR.

From then on, you notice that Jungkook continues to eat lunch in the cafeteria at the same time as you. Sometimes, he beats you there, already at his designated table and munching on whatever he brought that day. If your eyes meet, he’ll send you a small smile in greeting before immediately dropping his focus back to his phone. If you’re there first and throw him a wave of acknowledgment, he always returns it, as is polite and expected of two coworkers who don’t know each other beyond their forced proximity.

And you think nothing of it, too busy being your department’s errand girl, the person who gets assigned all the tasks no one else wants to do. The amount of interaction you and Jungkook have is only marginally higher than what you have with Namjoon in Finance, who periodically reaches out to you for any missing receipts for charges on the Marketing department’s credit card.

This slowly starts changing as you begin to have more and more technical problems. You being assigned to put together multiple PowerPoints and research whatever market trends tickles your boss’s fancy means you constantly have an ungodly amount of tabs and applications open. This means you’re not really surprised when your computer—an older model that is definitely on its last leg—starts freezing and giving you pop up errors. A force restart seems to fix the problem, but a new one emerges—now, no matter how many times you hit the print button and walk over to your designated printer, nothing awaits for you to pick up. Even scrolling through the printer’s print history shows no record of your jobs being in the queue. It’s bizarre—you even make sure to confirm you’re connected to the servers, and that doesn’t seem to be the issue this time.

Frowning, you make your way back to your desk and scroll down your chat messages until a familiar face appears.

You  Hey Jungkook! I can’t seem to print—think something weird is going on with my computer today

A soft sigh of frustration escapes your lips, fingers drumming irritably against your desk. It isn’t even noon, but the day is already looking to be a long one.

Resigned, you settle in to wait for him to answer you in the chat, but the little bubbles that indicate he’s typing never pop up. Instead, you’re surprised when movement in your peripheral produces Jungkook himself, slowing in approach of your desk, though his focus is still on his phone screen. He must have gotten your message in the midst of doing something else. 

“Oh! Hi,” you greet him eagerly. “Just the person I was looking to see.”

He looks up at you from beneath the curtain of his bangs, a small smile touching his lips as he stuffs his phone back into the pocket of his slacks. “Just the person I was looking for,” he returns. “What seems to be the problem?” 

“Mabel is being a bitch again,” you say with an irritated sigh. “Every time I try to print, nothing is happening.” 

Jungkook snorts, amused, and it’s only then that your brain registers exactly what you just said. Swearing at work is unprofessional so you make it a point not do it, but that one slipped out so casually. “Oh—sorry.”

But if Jungkook is offended, it certainly doesn’t show in the responding chuckle he lets out. “That’s definitely on brand. I can fix that—let me take a look.”

You move to relinquish your seat, but he’s already leaning over you before you can do more than shift your weight. So you just let go of your mouse so he can control it instead, scooting to the side a bit and trying your best not to think too hard about how he’s close enough for your clothes to brush. Christ does he smell good.

Jungkook clicks around a bit, no doubt checking to make sure your computer is up to date and connected to everything it’s supposed to. “Is this what you’ve been trying to print?” he finally asks, brows furrowed in concentration.

You blink at the question, realizing with dawning horror that you were accidentally distracted by his proximity. You clear your throat, shaking your head a little at yourself in an attempt to clear it of all thoughts that aren’t solidly on the task at hand. “Yeah.” 

He clicks the print button, just as you have done for the past ten minutes, then straightens with a shrug. “Let’s give our old girl a visit and see what her deal is.”

You stand, following him around the corner to the copy room, where Mabel has proudly taken residence for who knows how many years. The fact that you can already see she’s humming with activity as the two of you approach has your eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Jungkook seems equally confused, reaching in the tray for the stack of paper that was just spit out and turning it over to confirm both of your suspicions. The report you’ve been trying to print for the last twenty minutes sits in his hand, likely still warm from how quickly and easily Mabel completed Jungkook’s request. He holds it up for you to see, his big doe eyes peering at you quizzically through his glasses. “This printer was the one that wouldn’t work for you?” he asks.

“Yeah, I definitely sent it to this one. Repeatedly,” you insist. Embarrassment prickles across your skin. “I swear it wasn’t working two seconds ago!”

Jungkook smiles when he hands you the papers, and it somehow softens his naturally cherubic face even more. “You just wanted to say hi to me, huh?” 

“Clearly Mabel likes you more than me,” you sniff at his teasing. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“You didn’t,” he says simply. He hovers for a few more moments as you check to make sure all the pages are there. “Let me know if you have any more issues, okay?”

“Will do,” you agree, mind already back on your work as you both turn to part ways. “Thank you so much for your help!”

“Anytime.”

“Didn’t you have a date last night?” Joy asks. 

It’s lunchtime again, early enough that the three of you are still the only ones in the cafeteria. While both Joy and Wendy are munching on some overpriced salads they had delivered from a restaurant a couple blocks away, you’re eating a boring ham and cheese sandwich that you haphazardly slapped together in your rush to get out the door this morning. Vaguely, you do remember Wendy mentioning something about an upcoming hot date, but she was always rambling about a hot date, and frankly, you don’t care enough to keep up with any details. Everything you know about her love life—and her, in all honesty—has been dumped onto you without you having any say in the matter. 

“I did,” Wendy squeals, excited as always to have the opportunity to talk about herself. “His name was Miles. We’ve been talking on Tinder for the past week—he was really sweet and seemed to want to get to know me. Last night he took me to a nice restaurant, really wined and dined me.”

“Wow,” Joy says, eyebrows raised. “That sounds promising. When are you gonna see him again?”

“I’m not,” Wendy scoffed. “He was nice and all, but he’s only 5’7. It’ll never work out.”

“True.”

You’ve been trying your hardest to zone them out, but the longer Wendy prattles on, each sentence more baffling than the last, you can’t help but interject, “Doesn’t the app let you filter out height preferences?”

Wendy pauses, a raise of an eyebrow betraying her surprise at you finally participating in her lunchtime shenanigans. “Not on the free version.”

“So why did you even entertain him if you knew you would never consider him seriously?” 

“..because I wanted to go to dinner?” Wendy replies flatly, the look on her face doing nothing to hide how stupid she thinks your question is. “Besides, he got what he wanted out of the deal. After dinner I took him home and let him fuck.” 

The flippantly casual way she throws out the vulgar word feels like a record scratch, especially since the three of you are, in fact, still very much on company premises. Wendy doesn’t seem to notice just how much she’s scandalized you, continuing to prattle on at full volume about how the sex was pretty good for a Tinder date, even though he refused to eat her out. 

At this point, you’ve long slowed in your chewing, now entirely too incredulous by the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in to eat. 

“You didn’t suck him, did you?” Joy asks.

Wendy scoffs. “Of course not! I’m not giving head to some random anyway, especially if he’s not gonna give me mine first.”

“Can we not talk about this?” you mumble.

They both turn to stare at you, judgement plain on their faces. Wendy snorts. “Wow, _____. I never took you to be a prude.”

“I did,” Joy slides in under her breath.

You let out an agitated huff. This is ridiculous. “I’m not a prude.”

The two of them share a look. After a pause, Wendy finally asks in a way that indicates that it doesn’t really matter what you say because her mind is already made up, “Then what’s the problem?”  

Aside from this conversation being a massive HR violation?

Wendy continues smugly, as if she’s figured you out, “Talking about oral hit a nerve…interesting.”

Yes, Wendy! you think sarcastically, fighting the intense urge to roll your eyes. The whole rest of the convo was good and dandy—oral was definitely the line, though! 

Joy just looks at you, her eyes narrowing the longer she does. Her scrutiny makes your skin prickle in irritation. “You have gotten head before, right?”

“Okay!” you say sharply, stuffing the uneaten half of your sandwich back into the bag. “One, that’s neither of your business, and two, this conversation is completely inappropriate. Let’s change the subject, please.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them visibly surprised by your response. Joy actually looks a tiny bit proud that you stood up for yourself, but Wendy just sniffs and mutters, “That obviously means no.” Ultimately, they both back off, choosing instead to chatter about the newest design of Joy’s nails.

You exhale a tiny sigh of relief. Wendy was hitting the nail too close to the head and you truly didn’t feel like explaining your life story to a nosy coworker who was nothing more than your acquaintance, at best. Now that they’ve finally let you out of the hot seat, you’re fully planning to spend the rest of your lunch hour zoning out in relative peace. 

But before you can properly dissociate, you hear someone cough behind you. 

Your blood runs cold. You already know who it is—no one else tends to eat lunch this early.

“How long has he been sitting there?” you whisper, already dreading the answer.

Joy waves an unbothered hand. “I don’t know, like five minutes?”

Five minutes. Long enough to have heard… 

You’re immediately mortified, and it must show on your face, because Wendy just snorts and says way too loudly for your comfort, “Oh, relax, this is probably the most action he’s gotten in months. I’m doing him a favor.”

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK. “Are you serious right now?”

“Calm down,” Joy says, rolling her eyes. “Look, he’s not even listening to us.”

And a slow, discrete turn of your head confirms what she says—Jungkook, in an ugly salmon button-up today, has his earbuds in, eyes downcast to his phone screen, lips soundlessly forming the words to whatever song he’s listening to. You feel a tiny bit of relief, but embarrassment still roils deep in your belly, suddenly making your half-eaten sandwich completely unappetizing.

You stand, grabbing the brown paper bag that contains the remnants of your lunch and hoping against hope that you’ll be able to bolt without him noticing.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Wendy sighs, annoyance bleeding into her tone. “I told you I didn’t realize you were a prude. We can talk about something else.”

You bristle, but tamp down the urge to defend yourself and point out again that you aren’t a prude, you just don’t want to be the office harlot either. “It’s not that,” you lie. The judgmental look in Joy’s eye only softens when you say, “I just remembered I forgot to print the printouts for the meeting this afternoon. I’ll see you guys later?”

“Sure,” Joy says dismissively, and Wendy says nothing at all. They’ve already moved on, no longer interested in your swift escape, attention eagerly back on the details of Wendy’s weekend. That’s works perfectly fine for you—you’ve had enough of being the center of attention for the day.

Blessedly, Jungkook doesn’t even look up when slink past him and out the door.

 It’s hot.

Third quarter is well underway, which means that it’s time again for the quarterly company barbecue. That also means it’s hot as balls. 

You suffer quietly, trying not to add to the stank atmosphere Joy and Wendy are already creating due to the heat. It’s an ambitious goal, especially since you’re already sweltering beneath your blouse—which was reasonable to wear within the chilled walls of the office, but feels rather ridiculous now, under the relentless beat of the sun. Despite being grateful for the free food and break from your maddeningly boring work, you can’t help but mentally yearn for the indoors, where there’s proper shade and air conditioning and decidedly less bitching. 

“I don’t know why they don’t just cater something for us to eat inside,” Joy mopes, dabbing at her brow with what you already know from experience to be a cheap, scratchy napkin. “How is anyone supposed to enjoy themselves if we’re melting?”

“It’s probably a ploy,” Wendy quips. “The more uncomfortable we are, the more likely we are to get back to work.”

“The date’s been on the calendar for months,” you point out wearily. “They had no way of knowing there’d be a heat wave today. Besides, the company’s already paid for the food. I doubt they intended to purposely waste that money.”

Joy scoffs in retort. “The company also knows throwing an outdoor event in July is the same as throwing one in Satan’s asshole.”

Wendy sniggers, but you don’t answer, biting back your response that outdoor barbecues are common during summer, and at least they don’t have you out here in the snow. Because honestly? This is only your second quarter with the company, and who knows what the fourth quarter barbecue looks like. 

All you can do is free some of the buttons on your blouse, undoing as many as you can while still being office-appropriate. As it is, you now have a little cleavage peeking out, but with how hot it is, you figure no one will say anything.

“Look,” Wendy says with an unsubtle tip of her head. “Looks like the soccer game is still on, at least.”

Fluttering the hem of your blouse in an attempt to get some circulation, you reflexively respond to her prompting, eyes following her line of sight. A few tables down, the Sales team has finished their meal and appears to be actively gauging coworker interest in joining their game. From the decently-sized group that’s starting to form by the open field, you think they’re pretty successful, despite the heat. 

Joy groans, lifting her long hair with a hand in an effort to cool off the back of her neck. “I don’t know how they’re doing all that when it feels too hot to breathe.”

Inwardly, you agree with her, but Wendy just gives a lazy shrug and says, “Hey, if we’re gonna roast to death, at least we’ll be properly entertained.”

“True,” Joy muses. “And they’re gonna be sweatier than usual.”

Wendy’s eyes glaze over a bit at the thought. You grimace, amazed that these two always seem to have their heads in the gutter. That’s my cue. “I’ll be right back,” you say, brushing off the back of your slacks as you stand, but they pay you no mind when you walk away.

You’ve already finished your meal, but it can’t hurt to take another look at the coolers. It’s so hot that you’ve already downed your first beverage, so a new one is in order. When you arrive to the area, two people from Customer Service pass, nodding at you in acknowledgment as they make their way back to their table. You’ve only just started to reach for a cooler lid when you hear someone address you again. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice says timidly behind you. “How’s it going?”

You reflexively turn your head, simultaneously surprised and not at all to find Jungkook standing there. He’s got on a long-sleeved button-up despite the heat—grey, checkered with a red and navy plaid—and you can’t help but wonder how he’s not sweltering. Though, the noticeable sheen on his face and the way his damp bangs are starting clump together tells you he just might be. 

“I’ve had better days,” you answer honestly, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead. Before you can catch yourself, that same hand is vaguely gesturing at him, head to toe. “How are you not melting?”

His lips twitch, amused. “I definitely am,” he admits. “I actually hoped no one was over here so I could stuff some of the ice from these coolers down my shirt without being judged.”

You snort. “Hey, who’s judging? Certainly not me. Knock yourself out; just make sure you leave me some.” 

He taps his chin, jokingly in thought, but to be honest, he does mildly look as if he’s actually considering it. “Well, we wouldn’t want the beverages to get cold…”

“Eh, there’s probably not that many in here anyway. They could probably consolidate coolers.” To prove your point, you bend over, cracking open one of the red ones next to you and peering inside. The expected assortment of generic sodas greets you, looking admittedly very refreshing floating in their ice bath. “See, this one isn’t even full.”

You angle your torso a bit so you can meet his eye properly over your shoulder, but as soon as you look up at him, his gaze hurriedly skirts away, color crawling up the back of his neck. You stand with a frown, confused by this, but ultimately brush off his weird behavior when you notice Namjoon from Accounting sidling up to the two of you. 

"Hey guys,"  he greets you, a friendly smile dimpling his cheeks. "We're getting some people together for a soccer game. I know it's really hot, but would either of you want to join?"

You’ve often seen Namjoon chatting with Hoseok in passing, and twice have even seen them leave the building for lunch together, so it doesn’t surprise you that the accountant is helping recruit for the Sales team's traditional barbecue pastime. What does surprise you, however, is that when he casually claps a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, the younger man first responds by blinking owlishly at him behind his glasses, and then, a few seconds later, giving him a nod of assent. 

Obviously you don't know Jungkook very well—not at all, really, outside of your ongoing feud with Mabel. But you didn't take him to be the type to be into playing outdoor sports, particularly in this weather, and you certainly didn't expect him to agree so easily. A smile from Namjoon and suddenly all thoughts of stealing cooler ice are gone. 

Namjoon turns back to you, but you're already shaking your head. "Nope, no thank you! Y'all have fun. I'll just supervise from over there in the shade."

"Fair enough," he chuckles, and then he's leading Jungkook across the open field to meet up with the others.

Mildly more interested in the game now, you take this as your cue to grab the beverage you came for—a can of a Lipton knockoff and a bottle of water for good measure—and return to your table.

Joy and Wendy are still yapping when you approach, though in your absence, Joy has apparently decided to move to Wendy’s side of the table. It only takes you following their line of sight to quickly recognize why—that side of the table has an unobstructed view of the upcoming soccer game. Well, unobstructed, so long as you change your seat too. Awkward about intentionally getting in the way, you pause for only a moment before ultimately reaching for the end seat perpendicular to them instead. 

When you lean over a little to pull your chair out from under the table, Joy finally deigns to acknowledge you, ticking an eyebrow. “I can see down your shirt,” she tells you offhandedly. 

Your head snaps down, and you realize she’s right—undoing those few extra buttons has made the billowy fabric more susceptible to gravity, particularly when you leaned over. You yourself could see your whole chest and the basic bra that supported it, and at this angle, you doubt your blouse covered much of that from Joy’s gaze. A hand immediately snaps up to press the material back in place, but before you can even get properly embarrassed, her attention is ripped from you, eyes wide at something behind you.

“Holy—”

Wendy's jaw drops. Your head reflexively turns in the direction they're gawking at.

And before you can stop it, your jaw drops too.

Your tablemates have been known to be dramatic, and are certainly the type to stretch a fact or two. But it’s only now that you fully understand their fixation on these Sales soccer games, because yes, sometimes they do indeed take their shirts off. Like now.

Other than one girl from Compliance, all of the game’s recruits appear to be men, and as such, the group has chosen to distinguish teams by shirts vs. skins. And while the sudden appearance of skin naturally draws most people’s attention, your attention only gravitates towards one person. Cause what the fuck.

You almost don't recognize him, your brain rapidly shuffling through the information it's collected about him over the past few months and struggling to reconcile with what your eyes are actually seeing. Because the Jungkook you know wears glasses and long sleeves and has an unassuming hairstyle that looks suspiciously like a bowl may have been involved at some point. 

But the person you're looking at now? Glasses have been discarded, apparently no longer needing optical assistance, and he’s ditched the button-up, sweat making the white sleeveless tank he has on underneath spottily transparent and divulging the dusk of his nipples. Now that you can properly see the taper of his slim waist, his shoulders are proportionally more broad than you realized. And, since he clearly has no regard for your rapidly rising blood pressure, Jungkook decides now is the perfect time to reach over said shoulders, grab fistfuls of damp fabric, and pull. The sight of him slipping the shirt over his head—the ink of his hair sinfully mussed, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement—has you reflexively swallowing, mouth dry.

He's absolutely ripped. 

There's no other way to say it. A superior specimen, built and honed in a way that's only possible through years of hard work and discipline. He's still lean enough that you can rationalize how you’ve never picked up on that amount of muscle hiding beneath his unassuming dress shirts, but you're still gobsmacked. 

Your mind spins, struggling to come to terms with the near impossible fact Jungkook actually pulled a Clark Kent on you. Well, pulled a Clark Kent if Clark Kent was also covered in gorgeous ink, pigment swirling up his right arm from wrist to shoulder. From this distance you can’t see the exact designs that make up his intricate sleeve, but you can tell it was composed with a purposeful eye. 

Jungkook is absolutely ripped and tattooed. Jungkook. Printer guy Jungkook.

Flustered and trying not to be, you quickly look away, clanking your jaw shut and trying to focus on the plastic tabletop instead. Dear god, this is embarrassing. You really just gawked at your coworker! He was minding his own business and your jaw just reflexively unhinged like a degenerate. God, you hoped he didn't see that.

But any mortification you have is apparently not shared by the other two at your table.

“Is that Justin?!” Wendy demands rather shrilly, eyes wide, and the volume of her question would embarrass you even more if your brain could process any other reaction right now other than straight static. “Justin from IT?!”

You swallow thickly, your responding correction weak and delayed. “Jungkook.” 

“Finally,” Joy groans, pushing her plate away dramatically. “Some good fucking food!”           

You can’t help it then—your eyes drift back up, lured to the soccer players once more and zeroing in on him immediately. Seemingly unable to stray from his form, the heat already producing a sheen over his golden skin even though the game hasn’t started yet.

Surrounded by a few surprised male coworkers, Jungkook’s slightly hunched into himself, shy at the sudden attention. Even with the distance, you can see how Hoseok claps Jungkook on the back, just as animated over his newly revealed physique as the members of your table. But while everyone else is excited by this revelation…

Across the field, Jungkook innocuously turns his head in your direction. Like magnets, his eyes hone in on yours, your gaze locked for a few seconds until another loud What the fuck?! from Wendy frees you from the spell and you hurriedly look away again, a completely different kind of heat washing over you.

Jesus, you need to get ahold of yourself. There’s no way he was actually looking at you—it’s too sunny, and he’s not even wearing his glasses! He probably can’t even see that far.

But when you brave another peek in that direction and realize you can literally count his abs from here—

What the fuck, indeed.

Mutely, you watch the game unfold, not as self-conscious when it becomes clear that the whole office is doing the same. Though Joy and Wendy have been very salacious in their excitement for it, the soccer game is evidently a company barbecue highlight for others as well. And you’re sure Jungkook joining the fray has only added to the interest, as he’s a completely new addition to the equation.

And to your continued astonishment, Jungkook is good. He’s fast and lithe and brazen. He proves to you, again and again, that he can kick the ball with such ferocious accuracy that the other team’s goalie eventually stops trying to get in his way and simply resorts to trying to protect their vulnerable body parts instead. His intensity only entices reciprocal energy from everyone else, and what has traditionally been a lighthearted game between coworkers has now transformed into a group of competitive men who feel they now have something to prove. 

Joy and Wendy are delighted by this development, squealing and cheering and tittering amongst themselves. You sit quietly, still trying to mentally process this new development, but when you start to feel embarrassed by just how much you’re staring, you decide to call it a day. No one really notices when you stand and gather your trash, and luckily the distraction of the game means you’re able to slip out without any fanfare.

This quarter’s barbecue being on a Friday means you’re blessed with a weekend to decompress and regroup. Unfortunately for you, the office doesn’t just…move on from the event like it has in the past. Instead, this particular barbecue was apparently such a success that you continue to hear chatter about it for the next week, mostly in passing. But while everyone else makes small talk about how much fun they had, Joy and Wendy choose to hone in on the only thing they truly consider worthy of discussion—Jungkook. 

Today, just as they have every day for the past few months, they join your table when you take your early lunch. However, to their increasing irritation, the object of their current fixation isn’t here. In fact, Jungkook hasn’t showed up to the cafeteria during your lunch time since before the barbecue, and you inwardly have to admit it’s a little strange without him. You sat at different tables and the two of you never really said much to each other beyond the expected niceties, but you’ve gotten used to his presence all the same. 

You actually have barely seen him at all, with Mabel on her best behavior this week and Jungkook seemingly busy with something that has kept him mostly out of common areas. Still, with your embarrassingly strong reaction to him at the barbecue, it’s probably for the best. You’re a little wary of what your first proper interaction is going to be like, and you’ve been mentally preparing yourself to be as normal as possible. 

Your female lunchmates don’t seem to have that same mindset.

“Does he just not eat anymore?” Joy huffs. “I literally haven’t seen him all week!”

Wendy picks at her salad, lips twisted in a displeased grimace. “I actually saw him yesterday.”

Joy’s head snaps to her. “What?! You didn’t tell me that. What happened?”

“Since casually running into him doesn’t seem to be working, I figured I’d try getting him to come to me. So I unplugged my keyboard and messaged him, but he didn’t show up for like 40 minutes,” Wendy sighs irritably. “And when he did, he looked at me like I was a moron.”

Your lips twitch in amusement before you can stop them. Joy immediately says exactly what you’re thinking. “Well, you are a moron. You sat there for 40 minutes with your keyboard unplugged!”

Wendy soldiers on like she didn't hear her, undeterred from her gossiping. “So he came over in his ugly button-up and judged me! Plugged the keyboard back in and walked away without even saying anything.”

Despite not properly running into him all week, you actually did see Jungkook’s shirt in passing yesterday as he was turning down a hallway at the far end of the office. Wendy’s right—it had been an ugly puce. You found it endearing.

“He didn’t even roll up his sleeves,” Wendy mourned. “The least Jamal could have done was give me that.”

You pause in the chewing of the tuna sandwich you brought from home, exasperated. “Jamal,” you repeat flatly. “Really?”

Wendy waves her hand at you dismissively. “You know who I mean!”

“I mean, he’ll probably be more willing to talk to you if you treat him like an actual person.” Your quip is reflexive and indignant, and it kind of throws all three of you off guard. Joy raises an eyebrow at you and your sudden vexation, but you still add, though more subdued, “You know. Making an effort to remember his name is a good start.”

“Damn, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Wendy sniffs, though she doesn’t seem very offended by your callout. Over the months you’ve superficially gotten to know her, you’ve come to notice that she doesn’t really take much seriously—a simultaneously admirable and frustrating trait. “If you wanted dibs, you could have just said that.”

You feel heat flush up your neck, denial attempting to sputter from your lips, but true to form, Wendy has already moved on, tittering about how it’s about time the office had some proper excitement that wasn’t just meetings and spreadsheets.

“And speaking of meetings,” Joy pipes up, passing you a nonchalant look, “don’t forget to order those sandwiches for the client meeting tomorrow.”

“Sandwiches?” Your mind blanks. You knew your boss was hosting some clients in the office—had even been working on a lot of grunt work to prepare for it—but no one had mentioned anything to you about any sandwiches. “I thought she was wining and dining them?”

Joy let out a mildly irritated huff. “No, they have to catch an early flight home, so the plan has changed to a working lunch. Weren’t you listening in Monday’s meeting?”

No, you hadn’t been listening, because you weren’t invited to the Monday’s meeting. So it looks like a plan had been made and tasks assigned to you…without anyone bothering to communicate that. Typical.

You close your eyes for a second, jaw working as you attempt to tamp down your ever-brewing frustration. If they intend on you ordering from the usual place, it may be too late to cater for delivery, which means you’ll probably be stuck figuring out how to transport multiple giant platters from a restaurant five blocks away. 

“Do you mind forwarding me the request you sent? I must have missed it,” you respond neutrally, knowing full well the original email had never been sent to you. You stand to leave, the rest of your lunch break instantly soured by the revelation that you apparently have time-sensitive action items that are encroaching dangerous territory. “Just want to make sure I get the order correct.”

Joy nods, attention already back on Wendy and only half-listening. In the meantime, you’ll have to research alternatives, just in case.

While you’re lucky enough to find an acceptable last-minute catering option that will also, blessedly, deliver, that doesn’t mean you’re free to take a breather. 

It’s now the end of the day, and one by one, you see everyone around you log out and head for the elevator. Even Joy, who leaves right on time, despite knowing just how many tasks your small team still needs to complete for the big meeting tomorrow. What’s left is mostly grunt work, and while you are undoubtedly a grunt, it’s been clear for a while now that Joy no longer sees herself to be included in that category. So even though having more hands on deck would speed things along considerably, she still gathers her purse and gives you a cheeky finger wave on her way out.

At some point, the cleaning lady makes her rounds, scooting past you with a murmured apology to empty your trash can, but eventually even she disappears. Hell, even the sun abandons you, the soft glow fading from all the windows and stranding you with the cold fluorescent lighting that only remains on in your part of the office, because the lights have motion detectors. 

And so it’s just you, kneeling on the carpet and surrounded by a gazillion binders. Ensuring relevant reports and Powerpoint presentations are accurate and sending digital copies to your boss for her to have on-hand. Attempting to print physical copies and assemble them into binder portfolios your clients will be able to follow along with during the meeting. 

Attempting, because Mabel is, of course, choosing now to live up to her bitchy reputation. She won’t print on the right-sized paper. She won’t collate. She won’t be cooperative at all, and you’re too exhausted for this shit. Physically and mentally exhausted, trying your hardest to rein in the frustration that’s slowly expanding in your chest, crawling up your throat and triggering a familiar burning behind your eyes. It’s not fair. 

An exasperated noise escapes you without thinking, a loud, guttural thing. None of this is fair.

“_____?”

Your head snaps over your shoulder in surprise, not at all expecting anyone else to still be in the building. It’s Jungkook, because of course it is. Brows knitted in confusion, a black leather jacket thrown over his marigold button-up for some reason. He’s standing near the doors that exit into the lobby, evidently about to begin his trek home before you unwittingly paused his endeavor.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks, but before you can even deign to answer, he’s already taken a few steps towards you and followed up with a clearly concerned, “Are you okay?”

You take a breath, struggling to calm the storm within you. None of this is his fault, nor his problem, and you should just force a smile on your face so he can be on his way and leave you to your self-pity. But you’re tired, so tired, and simply don’t have the capacity to pretend anymore. You swallow around the lump in your throat, and when you do speak, the thickness of your voice betrays the tears that you’re fighting to keep at bay. “No.”

This only seems to alarm him more. He’s standing next to you now, as close as he can get with the array of binders and papers you have scattered on the floor around you like a fortress not meant to keep anyone out, but rather, to keep you inside.

“What’s the matter?” he asks gently.

“Oh, nothing,” you snort derisively, blinking rapidly at the ceiling in an effort to try to stop the inevitable. “Nothing. It’s just well past 7pm and I’m still here in this godforsaken building attempting to print out and hole punch and assemble twenty copies of this presentation. I can’t even get the printer to do what I’m asking it to! And there’s no fucking reason I should still be here because the could have been done last week if my boss didn’t keep making nonsensical changes based solely on vibes. And tell me why there are six people on my team but no one thought to help me or take any sort of ownership of this at all—as per usual—or even buy me a fucking coffee for once! I haven’t eaten a proper meal all day but everybody just assumes they can go home because things will magically get done like they always do because they will! I will always make sure that they will! Every day it becomes increasingly clear that nobody in this fucking company gives a flying FUCK about me or my free time or my sanity—”

If he’s put off by your potty mouth, Jungkook certainly doesn’t show it. He just manages to catch your gaze from behind his glasses and simply replies, “I do.” 

Your never-ending rant rapidly dissipates on your tongue, brain struggling to comprehend what he just said. “…What?”

“I care,” he repeats softly. “How can I help?”

The sincerity in his tone renders you mute, too stunned to do anything more than watch as Jungkook drops the backpack he’s had slung over a shoulder onto the floor, tossing his newly removed jacket on top of it without much thought. He’s unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, the reemergence of an ink-covered forearm making your brain stutter even more. Now that there’s much less distance between you, you can more accurately make out the shape of a delicate tiger lily, the languid form of a snake.

Jungkook clears his throat, the noise snapping you out of your stupor and making you realize you were just staring at him in silence, for who knows how long. Dammit. “What do you need?” he tries again. 

“Um, first we can start with Mabel,” you croak, mouth now embarrassingly dry. “No matter what I do, she refuses to collate.”

Jungkook shoots you a smile that softens his whole face. “Lucky for you, I’m the printer expert, remember? Don’t worry. We’ll get this fixed and be out of here in no time.”

He holds out a hand and you reflexively grab it, allowing him to guide you to your feet. Together, you make your way to the copy room, where Mabel has stubbornly been giving you hell all night. Jungkook gets right to work pushing buttons while you stand to the side, awkwardly shifting your weight a little from foot to foot.

“So why are you still here?” you ask, curiosity finally forcing you to voice the question that’s been looping in your mind since he first appeared. “It’s late.”

“It is,” he agrees, focus still on the printer. He kneels down, opening the paper tray. “There’s this huge system update that’s set to roll out next week. My whole team has been hunkering down and pulling late nights.”

Oh. That explains why you haven’t seen him around much since the barbecue. “That’s tough.”

“We’re finally almost done,” he shrugs. “And I’m clearly not the only one working overtime.”

You don’t say anything when he looks up at you pointedly, so he turns back to the printer, pulling a stack of paper out of one of the trays.

“I think this may be part of the problem. Someone put the wrong-sized paper in here. Or, at least, Mabel thinks it’s wrong. She’s confused.”

“Well, she can join the club,” you mutter, and he puffs out a laugh, shutting the drawer and pressing some more buttons.

“Come on, let’s try again.”

Something touches your elbow, and though it shocks through you like he electrocuted you, you have the good sense suppress any embarrassing reaction to what you quickly realize is just his hand. Instead, you let him guide you back to your desk, trying not to focus too intently on the heat of his skin on yours. 

Jungkook waits for you to login to your computer, clicking around and changing some settings once you step back and allow him free rein. Then, you can hear a distant hum coming from the copier room, and you know immediately that he’s succeeded. Dutifully, he goes to check anyway, returning to you with a stack of perfectly collated paper.

“Thank god,” you groan. “Now let me just print fifty more of those so I can start organizing these binders.”

With the crisis averted and his job done, you fully expect him to gather his pile of stuff and hustle to the elevator before you can trap him into doing anything else. Instead, Jungkook goes to pick up the additional copies from the printer for you, and he actually gets down on the floor next to you to start putting everything together. He watches you assemble one binder for reference, but then he’s easily doing the same and doubling your completion speed. 

And slowly, gradually, your nervous system calms. The two of you work like a well-oiled machine in what would be comfortable silence, if your brain wasn’t so loud. Now that you’re not actively panicking, a completely different feeling starts to seep into you—embarrassment.  You can’t believe that Jungkook actually caught you on the cusp of a breakdown, during which you looked so pitiful, he felt morally obligated to stop what he was doing and help you.

“I’m sure you have somewhere to be,” you say after a while with a grimace. He’s way too nice and you’re way too pathetic. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night—I promise you don’t have to stay with me. Now that everything’s printed and organized, most of the work’s done. I should be out of here in no time.”

“Well, I promise you didn’t ruin anything. And with two of us, you can be out of here in less time than that.” He looks up with a soft smile from where he’s hole punching a stack of paper, the muffled ka-chunk of the device punctuating his point. “I don’t mind, _____. Really.”

“But I do,” you murmur, looking away. Unable to meet his eyes. “I really appreciate your help, but I feel bad taking up so much of your time.”

“Well, don’t. I didn’t really have plans tonight anyway, and I’ve been working so much that it’s probably better that I get in some socializing time.”

“Not that I’m very good company,” you snort derisively.

There’s a pause, one long enough that you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s moving a little closer to you, tipping slightly sideways to tap his shoulder against yours. Reflexively, you turn back to him, finding his eyes kind.  

“We all have our off days, and that’s okay. But they’ll dull your shine if you let them. Don’t.” He bumps your shoulder again. “Besides, you and I have to stick together, remember? Or did you not really mean it when you told me that?”

You did tell him that, didn’t you? Months and months ago. You're surprised that he even remembers that.

There's an amused quirk to his lip, one that you can't help but feel yourself soften to, even as his focus turns back to the task at hand. And all at once, you feel yourself flooded with gratitude. You've been thankful for his help this whole time, of course, but now you almost sag with it, the relief at knowing someone is finally in your corner, the sudden sense of security and support visceral and a little overwhelming.

Before you fully realize what you're doing, it's you who leans closer, aiming to give a him a grateful kiss on the cheek. But your lips don't quite land on their intended target, because just before you succeed, Jungkook unconsciously senses your increasing proximity and reflexively turns his head back to you.

It's his lips yours coincidentally brush against, the accidental kiss timid due to his surprise and your chaste intentions. But the kiss is also soft, his lips plush and rather easily yielding to yours. 

Quickly realizing your mistake, you pull back, eyes as big as saucers. You stare at him in stunned silence and he stares back, eyes all pupil.

A horrified apology is immediately crowding the back of your throat, but right before you set it free, Jungkook's Adam's apple bobs, an errant tongue absently swiping across his lips. 

Huh. This isn’t exactly the reaction of someone repulsed by an unwanted kiss. He still hasn't said anything, but he hasn't moved away from you either. He's just watching you. Waiting. 

...Waiting?

With caution but with clear intent, you lean back in, and to your surprise, he meets you halfway, noses bumping a little before he tilts his head and your lips slot perfectly together. 

This kiss is immediately different from the last. Jungkook mindlessly drops he binder he's holding, body angling more solidly towards you so he can properly meet the rapidly rising intensity. Well, meet may be the wrong word, because he's the one whose hand quickly reaches up to cradle your chin, gentle pressure a silent request to  for you to tilt your head a bit more. And when you comply with the change in angle, it's him who deepens the kiss, the slow lave of his tongue coaxing your lips to part, open and wet.

You pant hot into his mouth and he breathes you in, offering no resistance when you push even closer, hands wandering across his shoulders, fingers ghosting up the back of his neck before drifting to idly toy with the hair at his nape. He hums contentedly, not unlike a purring cat, and does it again when your tongue joins his in a slow glide. 

You lose yourself in the sensation of it all, unable to notice anything beyond the heat that is rapidly building between you like fireworks ready to explode. Your head spins, swimming with endorphins and high off the smell of him. The taste.

A playful nibble of your lip unexpectedly has a rather desperate keen escaping your throat. You pause, making to pull back in your embarrassment, but the sound only seems to activate Jungkook, who follows you in your attempted retreat, mouth chasing yours in its reluctance to part. It's only when your back finally touches the floor that you realize he's slowly guided you there. You've been in a haze, too swept into the plot of the movie you've somehow found yourself in to do anything but be pulled along.  

As naturally as breathing, your find your knees have parted, and Jungkook easily slips into the space you've created for him, almost trancelike. As if he doesn't even realize he's doing it, too focused on exploring the fever of your mouth. He's leaning most of his weight on the hands he has posted on either side of your head; even still, every single millimeter of you that does touch him is sparking like live wires, euphoric goosebumps rippling across your skin. You let out a shaky breath that fogs his glasses, but even that doesn't stop him, just makes him pull back from you just enough to be able to whip them off and toss them somewhere, wholly unconcerned.

Emboldened by this, you sling a leg over his hip, and he eagerly accepts your invitation, settling on you properly. You're covered in him now, pelvises properly flush, and now that he's caged you in, Jungkook takes the opportunity to glide his lips away from yours and trail across your jawline instead. You shiver, every atom of you buzzing at his touch, and his mouth continues its trek, sucking hot down the column of your throat with just enough pressure that you know color will bloom there later. 

Your hips reflexively jump at his ministrations, your skirt riding further up your thighs, and the hard press of him against your panties has you swallowing down a moan. He freezes for a fraction of a second, but then his hips respond to the lure of yours with a more intentional roll. A contented sound rumbles in the back of his throat, tongue dipping to meander across your collarbone.

This is crazy. This is crazy. But you can't quite find it in yourself to care much as the two of you rut against each other on the office floor, your hand gliding up his back to root in the hair at his nape. 

Your hips undulate restlessly, eager to meet the crest of his wave, and Jungkook matches your intensity, catching your earlobe between his teeth. Your shared grind is measured but deliberate, and even through his pants you can feel the hard shape of him pressing right against your aching core. A particularly pointed roll has Jungkook shuddering hot into the shell of your ear, and that is what finally tamps down the last of your restraint and triggers something much more primal.

Dizzy with want, your hands scrabble between you and aim for the button of his slacks, eager to be properly introduced to what’s underneath. But to your slow horror, Jungkook freezes at the touch, motionless for a few breathless seconds before he actually starts lifting off of you and pulling back. It’s only when he’s completely sat up and is staring at you that the full weight of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train.

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

You really were just dry humping. A coworker. And you were doing it on the premises of the place that pays your fucking bills! Making out, dry humping, and you were actively aiming to do much more if he hadn't stopped you. 

What the fuck has gotten into you? 

You scrabble upright, dizzy with the mortification rapidly seeping deep into your bones. Stupidly, you blink at him, paralyzed with embarrassment but unable to look away. A deer in headlights.

Jungkook stares right back, eyes dark and all pupil. Dazedly, you wonder if you look as fucked out as he does—there’s a smattering of red across his cheeks, and his hair has been thoroughly mussed by your own hands. A tongue dips out to swipe over kiss-swollen lips, stealing your attention away from the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

And suddenly, you’re able to kickstart into gear.

“I am so sorry,” you burst out, panic nearly choking you. “That was highly inappropriate and I seriously don’t know what came over me—”

It takes you a few moments to register that he’s moved back in, and that it’s the returned press of his lips that interrupts your babbling apology before it can properly catch its stride. You’re almost too afraid to respond in kind, as if you’ll somehow scare him away again, but the insistence in his kiss practically knocks the breath from your lungs. Patiently, he coaxes your rigid lips back pliant. And only when it’s clear you won’t try to run away does he lean back a second time, but only enough to see your eyes properly.

“No,” he murmurs, breath fanning hot over you. “That was very much appropriate.” 

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that, too shell-shocked by this turn of events and actively battling your triggered fight or flight response. “Um. Then…then why did you…”

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, as if he’s gathering himself. “I want to,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself, but then he’s looking right at you again, gaze heavy with resolve. “It’s just…do you mind if I try something first?”

That throws you for a loop. Your jaw opens then shuts again while you contemplate his question, as well as your answer. “I mean, I guess? It depends on what it is.”

That you don't instantly reject him visibly unwinds a tension in his body that you only now realize was there. A rather feral look crosses his face, immediately inciting goosebumps to ripple across your skin in anticipation. But then the intensity of his expression dims, edged with something more contemplative. Jungkook gives you a pensive nod then stands, looking around curiously. “Hey, where does that viper sit?”

You blink, bewildered. “…The who?”

“The one who’s always with you at lunch.” He locks eyes with you, tongue poking through his cheek. “You know. The one who’s on your team but still had no second thoughts about leaving you here tonight by yourself.”

Joy. He’s talking about Joy. 

The question makes you pause in suspicion, but you still hook a thumb towards the cubicle next to yours, on the other side of your shared wall. “There. Why?”

“No reason,” he says with a sly grin, holding out a hand to you. You take it without question and he easily helps you to your feet. But then before you can process it, he’s slid both hands around your waist and easily lifted you off the ground, already in route to the exact cubicle you called out. You yelp in surprise, your arms reflexively circling his neck—your legs, his middle—in your body’s scramble for balance. But Jungkook’s hold on you is secure, grip moving down to the back of your thighs instead, and now that your chests are once again flush, you can actually feel his chuckle. His amusement provokes yours, and you can’t help but giggle as he carries you over to Joy’s cube as easily as if you weigh nothing.

Clearly, his exercise routine is working out for him.

After using a hand to sweep some objects out of the way, Jungkook carefully sets you down on Joy’s desk, right next to her monitor. Your mirth only grows at the feeling of whatever printouts she left for later review crinkling under your weight, at the sight of displaced pens rolling off the edge and disappearing to the ether that is the floor.

Jungkook has set you down, but he doesn’t pull away, just leans down and recaptures your eager lips. He’s tall enough that he’s kind of hunching over to kiss you, neck really craned, but he doesn’t seem to care much about that, kissing you with the same ferocity as moments before, when the two of you were entangled on the carpet. And you can’t help but match his fervor, hands reaching to guide his slim hips even closer, into the widening gap you naturally create for him between your legs. 

Time constricts and expands, an endless and meaningless concept. Because all that matters now is the tongue he slips past your lips to slide against yours, slowly, like he’s savoring the taste of you. All that matters is how fucking great he smells—like clean laundry and smoke and warm skin speckled with sweat—something you’ve always caught whiffs of, but now completely surrounds you, invading all your senses and sending your lust into overdrive. 

“Is this what you wanted to try?” you pant hotly when your lips finally separate for a moment in your quest for air. “Defiling Joy’s desk?”

He’s leaning his forehead against yours while he also attempts to catch his breath, and he’s so close that it would be hard for you to miss his amused flash of teeth. “Sort of. I’d like to defile it more thoroughly, though. Starting with this.” 

Jungkook leans in for one last kiss, one that starts at your mouth, moves to your neck, and to your surprise, continues down the line of your body. Over your collarbone, careful hands popping open a few buttons of your blouse so he can nestle more surely into the curve of your breasts, warm lips skating across eager skin. For a few moments, he actually nuzzles his face into your middle, a gesture you find rather sweet before he incites a shiver through your body by licking against your clothed navel. And before you can fully realize what’s happening, he’s slipped to his knees.

You look down at him in surprise, body still slotted between your legs, but this time more eye-level with the secret, needy part of you that has been thrumming excitedly with every beat of your heart. “What are you…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else,” comes his murmured reply. “Will you allow me to do something for you?”

Your brain is still so hazy from the spell of his mouth that it takes you a moment to recognize what’s happening. What he’s asking for. But when his large palms are hot against the naked skin of your thighs, gentle pressure urging them to part even more, it all hits you like a truck. Your eyes dart around, paranoid. “Jungkook,” you hiss. “…Here?”

“They’re too cheap to put cameras anywhere other than the lobby.” He turns his head, lips pressing reassurance into the side of your knee. “And no one’s here.” His reminder as gentle as the kisses he continues to adorn you with. “Just you.” Kiss. “And me.”

He’s right, you know. No one else is here to witness the series of bad decisions you’ve just made—to witness the ones you’re still seriously considering. 

Still, you hesitate.

Jungkook’s staring intently at you, doe-eyed and cherry-lipped and deceptively innocent despite what he’s requesting of you. “Please?” he asks again, oh-so-sweetly. Reverently prostrating before your altar, praying for the blessing of an ambivalent goddess. You. “I just…I really want to. Ever since that day, I can’t stop thinking about it and I—please?”

Your brows furrow as you try to make sense of what he’s saying, still scrambling to keep up with this current turn of events. What day? Your mind whirrs, jumping around before finally settling on an embarrassing memory you’ve willed yourself to forget. 

Lunch, where Wendy somehow got you to admit you’ve never gotten head, and Jungkook, purportedly oblivious, too busy on his phone to ever pay your table any attention. 

…Except from what he’s saying right now, he had heard every word. Heard, and filed it away for safekeeping, only revealing to you now, when he can possibly do something about it.

Absently, your tongue dips out to swipe across your lips, and Jungkook’s attention visibly strays towards the action, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your thighs and sending electricity straight to your core. God, do you want to say yes. Even though you’ve never done this before, your inexperience is not at all the reason for your reluctance. It’s the optics. You’re at work.

Your head tilts as you try to accurately take stock of the situation. You’re at work. But technically, you should have clocked out hours ago. Technically, this job has been stealing a lot of time that should have been yours to choose what to do with. Case in point—you’re the only person on your team still within a five-mile radius of this godforsaken building. Because everyone else deserted you without a second thought, designating you to be the one who struggles to print presentations for a meeting that has been on the calendar for literal months.

But. 

While it’s easy to assume they forced this fate upon you, Fate is not one easily compelled to do another’s bidding. And, trapped in the gaze of the sweet man still patiently awaiting permission to ruin you, you can’t help but wonder if this has been Her plan all along. 

For months you’ve been doing everything for everyone else, so unhappy and stressed that each day in this place only wound you tighter and tighter. So…what if you finally just let yourself snap? Did what you wanted for once? Stopped following the rules that nobody else ever seemed to and just let go? 

You exhale. Fuck it.

“Okay.”

Jungkook grins, boyishly innocuous at first, but rapidly morphing into something much more devilish as you watch. He turns to kiss your knee again, and you startle a little at the action, newly on edge. “Don’t be nervous,” he says, still holding your gaze. Making sure you can see his resolve. “I got you.” 

“Okay,” you say again, but that’s easier said than done, especially when he takes the opportunity to gently push your knees even further apart. Naturally, your skirt rides further up, and you can’t help the apprehension that washes over you at your increasing lack of modesty. Still, you hold true to your word, aggressively tamping down the urge to scramble off the desk and pretend this all never happened. But though you brace yourself for what comes next…

Jungkook doesn’t move.

Long moments pass before you can’t help but say something. “Are you just gonna look?” Because that’s all he seems to be doing, laser-focused on the juncture of your thighs.

He visibly stirs at the sound of your voice, but still doesn’t do much more than tsk at you. “Don’t rush me,” comes his light reprimand, eyes still locked on what you’re sure at this point is a growing dark spot on your panties. “I don’t half-ass things and I definitely won’t rush this. No one’s here, so just relax and enjoy the ride.”

Your jittery nerves have you reflexively mouthy, but your retort swiftly dies on your tongue when his hand finally moves further up your skirt—further inward—and two fingers pointedly press right against that dark spot and glide over your clothed lips. You gasp, fighting against the urge to snap your legs shut when he slowly circles your clit and sends sparks dancing down your legs. 

“Better?” he murmurs.

“Much,” you squeak.

“Good,” he says, eyebrows knitted in thought as he circles and circles. Your thighs twitch, and he leans forward like he can’t help himself, nose pressing solidly against you with a long, audible inhale.

A fascinated oh falls from your lips, heartbeat accelerating excitedly in your ears, but Jungkook only responds by nestling further against your pussy, tracing the length of your lips with a slow, wet swipe of his tongue through the fabric. He breathes hot against your clit and you inadvertently buck at the stimulation, only inciting the wicked curl of his lips. He looks up at you darkly through the curtain of his bangs, and something unexpected and primal simmers beneath your skin.

“Can I have these?” he asks huskily, lightly snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin. 

You clear your throat, suddenly wishing you had the foresight to put on something more interesting today than your unassuming cotton undies. “Have as in you won’t give them back?”

He lets out an amused puff of air, tilts his head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

You nod your assent. You’re now impossibly invested in where he plans to take this, and it’s not like you don’t have more pairs at home. “Knock yourself out.”

Immediately, his hands are up your skirt. They’re big, but they’re also gentle, caressing your thighs and even taking a slight detour to the meat of your ass before continuing their mission to the band of your underwear. When he starts to pull, you help him, shifting your weight so he can slip the fabric over your hips and down your legs.

Jungkook’s Adam’s apple dips when his eyes are finally able to feast on you without a barrier. “So fucking hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, and then without further warning, his mouth seals around your sex.

You whimper in surprise, not at all used to the sensation of someone kissing you there. And kiss you he does, carefully at first, judging your reaction. But when you do nothing but grip the edge of the desk, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle the rather desperate sounds crawling up your throat, he swiftly devolves into kissing you with the same passion as he had the lips on your face. His tongue laps at you with sure, even strokes, dragging across the seam of you and then through it, making sure to slide along your clit on every upstroke. 

Your breath quickens, jaw falling slack. You weren’t sure what you imagined oral sex to be like before this, but you never expected how easily your body submits to his ministrations. Almost without you realizing it, your thighs part even more, hips automatically canting down to meet his eager mouth. A hand reaches for him, fingers winding through his hair and rooting there, and Jungkook hums in approval, his own hands wrapping securely around your thighs, your ass. His fingers sinking into the yielding softness of you, gently holding you steady against his face while you start to gyrate and moan.

God, does he look good down there. He’s always looked good, even before you knew what he was hiding behind those shy smiles and nerdy glasses, but something about the sight of him, jaw working as he sucks on you, lashes fluttering in pleasure in his quest to please you—

Without warning, he detaches with an audible pop, and a disgruntled sound reflexively leaves you. Breathless, you start to ask him why he stopped, but the words die on your tongue when you realize he’s staring at you again. That he pulled back for a moment just so he can get a good look at the mess he’s making of you. So he can properly see how your pussy aches and drools for him.

“Good?” he asks, voice deep and thick.

“So fucking good,” you sigh. What you know he wants to hear, but also 1000% the truth. You’re starting to understand what Wendy has been blathering about, but is it always like this? Or is it Jungkook in particular who is making you so unbelievably aroused? Is your rapidly snowballing crush on him that strong, or does pussy eating simply rank high on his skillset?

As if he can hear your thoughts, Jungkook moves to slip a finger into you, and you can’t help but moan when he breaches you, the digit sliding in so easily that he quickly adds another, thumb pressing surely into your clit as he starts a slow drag in and out. 

“Shit,” you shudder, eyes rolling back into your head. Hips sliding further off the desk, reflexively seeking the delicious stimulation. One of your hands scrabbles across the desk, unconsciously trying to root you, and you’re much too preoccupied with how good he’s making you feel to notice when you accidentally knock over a mug full of pens. A stapler clanks to the ground. “Fuck.” 

“Look, baby,” he breathes, moaning along with you when the pet name immediately makes your pussy flutter. “Look.”

At his encouragement, you do. You watch the flex of his tattooed arm as his fingers continue to disappear within you, a lewd squelch coinciding with his movements. You watch as he adds another finger, the additional stretch immediately noticeable but even more delicious. You watch him watch you, eyes all pupil, lips swollen and slick with your desire.

“More,” you whine, frenzied and greedy. And Jungkook immediately heeds your call, leaning back in. He sucks on your clit with three fingers sunk in you, expertly crooked towards your pelvic bone, and you jolt, accidentally knocking something else off the desk. Neither of you pays the resulting clattering any attention, too wrapped up in the way you writhe at his ministrations. He hums in approval, the vibrations only intensifying your ecstasy. He flattens his tongue as your hips desperately circle, letting you control the stimulation. And when it’s clear you still need more, he changes tactics and rapidly laps at you instead, as if you’re a melting ice cream cone, while he beckons, beckons. 

Your blood is volcanic, hot pressure bubbling beneath the prison of your skin, building and building within your core. The higher he takes you, the more the grip you have on his hair unintentionally tightens, but that only seems to urge him on, locking eyes with you as the thrust of his fingers turns harder and more calculated. Giving you no other choice but to finally erupt.    

You cum with a loud groan, gasping through it while your cunt rhythmically clamps down on his digits, hard. Jungkook talks you through it, murmuring encouraging words your buzzing brain has trouble deciphering because his hand still doesn’t stop, pounding right into your g-spot and making your eyes cross and toes curl with the force of it. And when you finally can’t take anymore, jerking with oversensitivity, you grab him by the wrist in a wordless plea for mercy.

And Jungkook grants it. You can tell that he wants to play with you more—wants to guide you over and over to the precipice just see the look on your face when he shoves you off—but ever the gentleman, he reins in his enthusiasm and obediently slips his fingers out of you. He takes a few seconds to admire his handiwork, eyes shining with in reverence as he marvels in the dripping, throbbing, panting aftermath that is you.

“Wow,” you say, still dizzy with endorphins. Never in a million years did you think it would feel like that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, voice thick. “Wow.” He lifts his hand, remnants of you visibly slicking his fingers and webbing between the digits, and without a second thought, sticks them in his mouth and sucks. The resulting slurping of his errant tongue is nothing short of obscene, but your cunt flutters again anyway, interest clear despite being thoroughly satisfied only moments before. And when line of your essence starts to drip down your thigh, Jungkook makes sure to lean in and catch it with his tongue.

You shiver with the feeling of him on you again, mouth hot and wet, thighs still trembling. He’s taking his time, tongue dragging a slow path back up to the source, determined to feast upon the rewards of his efforts. But you can’t take it anymore. God, he’s so hot. He’s so fucking hot and you want him so fucking bad.

You need him. Biblically. 

Near delirious, you reach for him, hands scrabbling across his shoulders, fingers trailing the back of his neck and guiding him to stand. Arms circling his waist and pulling him closer to you—close, close—Jungkook easily slotting into spread of your thighs.

He follows your unspoken commands easily and without question, looking down at you with a rather pleased smile that crinkles his eyes in the corners. Determined to steal the breath from his lungs, just as he just did to you, you lean in to lick that smile pliant and open. There’s a curious taste on his tongue that it doesn’t take long to deduce is you, and that’s only even more of an aphrodisiac, revving you up further. 

Your hands continue to roam, sliding down a little to grope his backside, startling a laugh out of him. But when your fingers tease the waistband of his slacks, his delight visibly shutters away into something else entirely.

“You don’t have to do that,” he breathes, even as he reflexively bucks into the hand you’re using to palm him over his pants. “This was about you.”

“Then let it be about me,” you counter, a mischievous smile curling your lips. Even through his pants you can tell he's hard. That he wants this just as badly as you do.  Still, when he gasps out a wait, you obediently stop your ministrations and move to take your hand back. 

He doesn't let you get far, lacing his fingers through yours and visibly considering his next words for a few moments before settling on, “What do you need?” 

It’s a simple enough question, but you can't help but be immediately reminded of him saying these exact words to you, a little over an hour ago. Now, however, they sit heavy on his tongue, heady and syrupy in hushed invitations. 

The revelation hits you all at once, heart pounding excitedly in your ears.

You need only ask. You’ve only ever needed to ask.

And since all caution was thrown to the wind the moment you agreed to let him suck your soul out through your pussy...

“You said you’ve been thinking about me? Well, I’ve been thinking about you too. For a while, even though I’ve been trying not to.” 

You’ve had his attention this whole time, but the way Jungkook's regarding you now, now that you’ve said that? He's hanging onto every word, so hyper-focused that it would unnerve you if this wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. 

“So…” Adrenaline has your fingers restless against his, but you still dive headfirst. “What I need is for you to fuck me and finish what you started.”

A beat. One where he holds your gaze, the space between you so electrified that you’re surprised you don’t see sparks. But then he’s on you again, mouth meeting yours in a frenzied clash of lips and teeth, and this time he doesn’t stop you when your hands scrabble for his fly.

Jungkook wastes no time, smoothing his hands up your legs and pushing your skirt out of the way. He lets out a shuddered breath when you stroke him through his underwear, when you reach down the waistband and grip him properly.

He’s warm and thick in your hand, and the thought of him finally in your guts damn near has you vibrating. Just like you thought before, he’s already nice and hard, but you still pump him a few times just to revel in the proof of what you’ve done to him. Velvet over stone.

And despite having all the time in the world when the foreplay is for you, Jungkook doesn’t seem to have any patience for himself. You’re only able to enjoy the weight of him in your grip for a few passes before he’s surging into action. Strategically, he grabs you by the knees and lifts, maneuvering your legs into the crooks of his elbows. The move opens you up to him further and forces you more horizontal, leaning back on your forearms, nearly pressed against the cubicle wall.  

The way he ate you out moments before ensured you’d be primed for him, your pussy soft and slick and just begging to be filled. When he finally lines himself up and begins the slow press in, your jaw immediately falls open, tongue going lax at the intense pleasure. “Oh my god,” you manage to whine, eyes threatening to roll shut.

The unhurried way he’s sinking into you is likely in effort not to unintentionally hurt you. Because after everything else, why not add another thing to the ever growing list of surprises you’re learning about your unassuming coworker—not only has he been tatted and muscular this whole time, but his dick is also fucking huge. Without even realizing it, you’ve stopped breathing, the pressure of him nudging your walls apart too much stimulation for your body to continue even subconscious functioning. 

As if he can tell your brain is actively short-circuiting, Jungkook’s hands circle your thighs, thumbs kneading the flesh in mild distraction for when he finally bottoms out. It’s only now that you can properly notice the effect you’re having on him—hair starting to stick to his forehead from perspiration, teeth grit as he struggles to stay still for you.  But you don’t want him to be still.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, wiggling in your impatience and making him suck in a breath. “Please. Give it to me.”

The resulting roll of his hips has him swearing and you seeing stars. “Fuck. You can have whatever you want,” he says, already making good on his promise with a slow grid. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

It’s good, so good, especially because Jungkook uses his grip on your thighs as leverage to ramp up his thrusts, easily maneuvering you over his cock in a way that has your toes curling. By the time he’s really fucking you—jaw set, brows furrowed in concentration—you’re crosseyed and mewling incoherently. You should be embarrassed by the sounds he’s pounding out of you, but you’re so focused on the overwhelming pleasure that you can’t find it in yourself to care very much. 

Chasing the high you already feel him leading you towards, you lift one of your legs to change the angle, and he catches on immediately, helping guide your ankle to hook over his shoulder with a distracted kiss against the bone. And it’s deeper this way, the angle ensuring he brushes against your spongy nerves with every stroke, only making you spiral faster. 

He notices, of course. Notices how quickly he’s taking you to your end and revels in it, sliding a hand inward and he thumbing your clit, fast and hard.

You jolt at the extra stimulation, gasping and overwhelmed. “Oh my goddd…”  

“Come on,” he croons, his dulcet tone at odds with the wickedness of his hand. His dick. “Don’t you want to cum for me?”

“I…” you choke out, struggling to form any sort of coherent thought as you feel everything get tighter. “I…”

You see his lips moving as he presumably says something else. But you can’t understand anything other than your own moaning when your pussy finally locks down. This orgasm is somehow more intense than the last one, your thighs rippling with the force of it, your hands desperately scrabbling over the desk in an effort to find something to ground you. 

And Jungkook fucks you through it, still talking, and it’s only when the whooshing in your ears starts to subside that you can finally decipher what he’s saying in between his own moaning. “There you go. Being so good for me. So good.”

Your only reply is your gasping breath as your orgasm slowly fades, replaced with oversensitivity. But you don’t want him to stop. You don’t want this to stop, reveling in the feel of him on you, in you. And Jungkook doesn’t, instead sliding your leg off his shoulder so he can grab you by the waist with both hands and properly yank you forward, moving you over his cock to his liking. 

The desk creaks with your effort, a rhythmic cacophony with the harsh smacking of his balls against your ass. You mewl, needing him closer still, and curl your legs around his hips, locking your ankles. He’s now trapped against you, but he groans like that’s exactly what he wanted, both hands gliding up the length of your body to grasp the back of your neck instead, giving him even better leverage to plunge into you, deep, deep. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, licks into your panting mouth. 

At this point, his thrusts are turning manic, but you’re meeting every one of them, deliriously following him in his descent into madness. But when he catches your lower lip with his teeth, your breath hollows, and then, quicker than you can register it’s happening, you cum again, spasming around him with a long, high-pitched whine.

Jungkook lets you ride it out, but this time, his thrusts slow while you thrash. And it’s not until your soul finally floats back into your body that you realize he’s already pulled out of you and is bucking into his own fist instead.  

You almost took him over the edge with you, you realize. Though he clearly has incredible stamina, you have finally brought him to his limit, and everything inside you glows at the knowledge that he’s here, roughly pumping himself, moans falling freely from his lips because of you. 

Entranced, you reach for him, delighting in the whimper he lets out when your fingers wrap around his base. His own hand immediately falls to grip the edge of the desk instead, and you glide your fist up, finding his cock sticky with your juices. Jungkook just rests his head in the crook of your neck and lets you jack him off, whining through it when you match his previously punishing pace. And it doesn’t take long before he finally, finally splashes hot over your hand. Against your thigh. 

Your hand slows, twisting your wrist and milking him for every drop. Intent on extending his pleasure, just like he made sure to do for you. And you only stop when he flinches away from your touch, twitchy and shivering as he leans against you. 

Reluctantly, you let go. The two of you share the same balmy breath, struggling to calm your racing hearts. And when Jungkook finally backs away from you, unhurried in the way he gathers himself back into his slacks, there is a wildly satisfied grin on his face.

You’re satisfied too, though you try to have some sense of propriety and use a tissue from the box next to Joy’s monitor to wipe off the sticky evidence of his pleasure. Throwing away the evidence, you hop off the desk, locating your long-discarded panties and slipping them back on, smoothing down your skirt.

“So,” you tease lightly. Your head swims a little with the knowledge of what you just did, but you’re surprised to realize you feel zero guilt about it. “Is your plan to stick it to everyone who’s wronged me? If so, we should do it on Mabel next. That’ll show her.”

Jungkook laughs, a giddy, giggly thing. He’s now doing his best to pick up and replace everything that fell from Joy’s desk during your romp. “Nah, I could never disrespect her like that. That ol’ girl’s been such a great wingman these past few months.”

That’s a rather curious statement to make. You frown a little, shoot him an inquisitive sound.

“You always call me when Mabel’s not working,” he shrugs. “So when I wanted to see you, she was nice enough help.” 

You can’t help it—a smile creeps across your face, equally bashful and flattered. He wanted to see you! For months, by his open admission. “And the printer knew exactly when you wanted to see me?" you joke. “Sounds like dark magic to me.”

Jungkook’s valiantly trying to straighten and smooth out some of the papers the two of you disturbed. “Deleted some print jobs,” he replies offhandedly, clearly distracted by the task at hand. 

Record scratch. 

There’s an extended silence as your brain shuffles through different iterations of his sentence, trying to decipher exactly he meant by that. Because there's no way he just admitted to what you think he just did. “Did…did you just say you've been deleting my print jobs?” you ask incredulously. Because there’s no way.

There’s no way, yet at your words, Jungkook immediately stiffens. His lips part, but he doesn't defend himself. Doesn't say anything at all—just drops the pen he’s holding and stares at you with wide eyes.

Holy shit. Holy shit. He really has been doing it! He obviously hadn't meant to tell you that, but the relaxation of afterglow has clearly removed the filter between his brain and his mouth. 

The weight of his revelation hits you, seemingly happenstance events connecting in your mind and starting to fall into place. All the hassle and irritation that stupid printer has been giving you, and it turns out Mabel has been working just fine?! 

“Please don't be mad,” he pleads, finally finding his voice.  

“Are you seriously saying that all this time—”   

“No! No, I only did it a few times,” he sheepishly rushes to correct you. “And I promise, I haven’t done it in weeks.”

“Seriously?” 

“I just...wanted an excuse to talk to you!”

“Jungkook, you literally talk to me all the time!”

“About work! Not—” he averts his eyes, lets out an irritated breath. “It’s just. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out.”

You blink, gaping slightly as your whirring mind tries to process what he’s just told you. “Ask me…out?” 

“I didn’t mean to do…all this.” He waves a hand over the mess the two of you are still cleaning up, clearly embarrassed. “I mean, at least not before buying you dinner first.”

Moments pass as you stare at him in stunned, disbelieving silence. Then, like a volcano erupting, laughter bursts from you, loud and sudden. Because what the fuck? You can’t believe all of this is actually happening to you. In real life. “You jackass,” you cackle. “Do you have any idea how much grief that printer has been giving me? I’m over here stressed and you’ve been gaslighting me and doing it on purpose?”

“Just a few times,” he repeats, visibly confused by the juxtaposition of the mirth in your voice and the actual words you’re saying. 

“And that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a jackass,” you laugh. “But…” You clear your throat, suddenly somehow shy, despite everything that has occurred and been said. “…I suppose you can still take me out to dinner.”  

“Yeah?” His lips stretch into a slow, hopeful smile.

“Yeah. Now, if you want. I think we’re pretty much done here.” You smile back, quickly taking stock of the binders still scattered across the floor. Most of them are completed, but whatever else you need to do can be done tomorrow morning. “Besides, I seem to have worked up an appetite.” 

Jungkook looks nothing short of smug, but you suppose you can’t fault him that. “Well then,” he practically purrs, “Let’s hurry up and feed you.” 

Moving in comfortable silence, the two of you finish putting everything you’ve disturbed back in their original spots, gathering the last of the binders and stacking them neatly on your desk. You reach for your purse while Jungkook goes to collect his hastily discarded belongings.

“So,” you start. “Where are you taking me? It’s kind of late.” This late on a weeknight, kitchens would be shutting down soon.

He pauses in sliding his leather jacket back on, frowning a little as he realizes you’re right. “Shit,” he mutters. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“You can,” you say with an unbothered wave of your hand. “That can be next time. Let’s just find something quick now.”

“So you’re saying I get a second date?” he grins.

Oh. That is what you just implied, isn’t it? You would be embarrassed by how forward you were being if Jungkook wasn’t visibly delighted by it. Wow, he really does like you. And since the feeling is mutual, you just look away coyly and say, “If you play your cards right.”

Jungkook hoists his backpack over a shoulder, and it’s only then that you see what else he happened to be carrying in his hands when he dropped everything for you. A helmet.

You gesture towards the object with a curious incline of your head. “What’s that for?”

“My bike,” comes his easy answer, but that’s not the kind of helmet that one wears for bicycle rides. No, this one is made for something much faster. 

Now that you think about it, you’ve seen the motorcycle in the parking lot before—you’ve just never really given it a second thought. And now you can’t stop thinking about it, because the unassuming vehicle you’ve often passed on your way into the building has been Jungkook’s the whole time. Your mind is blown. How many more times is he going to surprise you tonight?  

“…Do you always drive a motorcycle?” you ask incredulously.

“Depends on the day,” he shrugs with grin. “Sometimes I take the bus, but I like to ride my bike when the weather’s nice.” His eyes are bright with pride, visibly happy to have impressed you. 

Your mouth opens and closes, thoughts racing so fast your tongue struggles to hold onto any of them. Before you realize you’re doing it, you blurt, “Alright. Are you even real?”

Jungkook blinks owlishly at you, clearly not expecting that question. “What?” 

“I thought I’ve known you for months. But was any of that real?” you repeat. “Hell, do you even need glasses?”

“Of course,” he rushes to say. “It’s all me. I can just be a little shy, is all.” Wow, he actually said shy with a straight face, as if he didn’t just finish ravaging you over multiple surfaces. “And I like to be professional, so this place doesn’t get to have all facets of me. I know you can relate.”

You can. Your constant struggle to not complain? To be professional and work hard and hope you’ll be rewarded for your efforts? Obviously that’s a reason why the two of you ended up in this situation in the first place.

He ducks his head a little, tapping the glasses he picked up off the floor in petition for their validity. “And these really are prescription. I mean, I can mostly see without them, but since I stare at computer screens all day, it’s less strain on my eyes.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, feeling silly to have even asked. But who knew the quiet IT guy who kept mostly to himself was also this? Buff and tatted with a wicked tongue that you’re now intimately acquainted with. 

Shyly, he holds his helmet out to you. He hesitates before speaking again, almost like he’s afraid of spooking you. “Wanna go for a ride?” And from the way color lightly blooms across his cheeks, you get the sense that he’s offering you more than just protective gear.

You take it without second thought.

The next day you and Jungkook get off the elevator together, a respectable distance between you, but arms still brushing too often to be casual. When you come to the hallway that will force you in separate directions, you pause.

“Have a good day,” you say. Jungkook grins, the delighted brightness of it baring too much teeth and crinkling his eyes in the corners.

“You too,” he winks. “Let me know if Mabel gives you any more issues.”

You snort at his brazenness, biting down a smile as you head to your cubicle. Your whole body buzzes, glowing from inside out.

You’re technically right on time, but you’ve definitely arrived later than usual, and that’s obvious when you head over to your department and find Joy already there waiting for you. She frowns as you approach, no doubt clocking your empty hands and wondering how she’s going to make it through the morning without her expected syrupy caffeine fix. 

To her credit, she doesn’t call you out on it, but you don’t really care if she does. You’re done playing errand boy. From now on, everyone else will have to stop before work and get their own shit, if they want it so bad.

Because it’s all so clear to you now. You’re here, and you’re going to do your best, but you’re not going to let this place wear you down to jaded slivers. You’re going to work hard and learn all that you can, but you refuse to be anyone’s lapdog. 

They will respect you. And your value will be recognized and rewarded—or you’ll simply find somewhere else where it will. 

Joy must sense your new resolve, because she simply hovers by your desk and chirps, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” 

“Did you have a good night?”

Your lips quirk. “You could say that. What about you?”

“Eh, it was okay,” she sighs. “Met a guy for dinner, but I don’t think that’s going anywhere.” 

So while you were stuck here last night, having a grade-A meltdown, she was on a date. That tracks.

Joy chatters on while you put your things away, not seeming to notice or care that you’re not particularly interested in what she’s saying. And while this would normally irritate the living shit out of you, today, it doesn’t. 

Today, your eyes can’t help but glaze over as your mind drifts back to how your night went. Today, you just hum agreeably until she gets bored with you and decides to go back to her own cubicle.

And when you hear her ask over the wall if you’ve seen her stapler, you just smile and smile.   

⇢ my masterlist

[kithtaehyung]

ITS HEREEEE🔥🔥 ashley with the comeback that’s gonna make me melt all over my bed when i read it later😩 also? you posting a fic again? the world is healing btw.

i’m ready for this man bc that moment with that overshirt haunts me and current jeon jungkook and i are fighting🥴 bring it. i’m ready to be destroyed 7 ways a minute or whatever he says

[n33mesis]

do you have any myg fic recs? 💜

I seriously need to start reading more fics 💔 but I do have a few.

Nemesis recs pt. 1

love lockdown by @personasintro — this deserves a special place on this list because, without it, I probably wouldn't be here writing today. The lack of updates inspired me to come up with my own version of zombie apocalypse Yoongi 😭, and without that, none of my stories would probably exist. I'm still waiting for an update!!!

basic needs & self fulfillment needs by @gggukniverse — also still waiting for an update 💔 This is genuinely one of the best smut fics I've read so far that I keep coming back to

hot & bothered by @ktownshizzle — I don't read this type of stories often, but it was really sweet <3

snowball series by @werezmastarbucks — the one that inspired me to write my own psycho stalker!

moon dreams by @kikiskook — freaky, but surprisingly sweet in the end. I actually reread it a few days ago

[shrugsinchinese]

Immense gratitude

[stargirl-meltdown]

i’ve lost you before, haven’t i?

pairing: dr ryland grace x reader

summary: two strangers wake up alone, lightyears from home, thrown into a mission neither of you remember choosing. he is a stranger, he has to be.

but something doesn’t fit. not in the way he looks at you like he’s already lost something. the pieces come back wrong, not fitting where they are supposed to, and neither dr grace or yourself can explain this away.

he feels it though, one thing that is deep and certain: that once, you might have been everything to him.

warnings: 18+, eventual smut, major angst, amnesia, memory loss, violence, major major hurt/comfort, arguments, heartbreak, slowburn, kind of enemies to lovers

prologue ⭐︎ what’s two plus two?

[lov3lanuage]

World Book Day!

Eeee more Ryland for you!! Had this idea in my head since seeing someone on tiktok dressing up as the princess and the pea!

Warnings: teacher!reader, female reader, “Miss” is used, fluff fluff fluff, gets a little steamy at the end but I can’t help it!!

——————————————————-

One of your favourite days of the school year. World Book Day. Kids got to dress up as their favourite book character and do a little reading on why. Teachers got to participate this year, which was extra fun.

You’d been a middle school English teacher for about a year now, settling in down the hall from Mrs Martha James and Mr Scott Adams, who were both lovely. It was by chance that you bumped into Dr Ryland Grace. During your first week, Noah’s dad came in with his lunchbox, interrupting your little tea break in the staff room. “I’m so sorry, Miss (L/n), we were late to school as it is”, he said.

You gave him a reassuring smile and took it off him, “No problem, I’ll go give it to him now” Noah’s dad nodded and thanked you before walking back down the hallway and out past the office. You sighed to yourself. “Right, Noah, where are you?”

After searching through all your schedules and calendars, physical ones and the online ones, you couldn’t find Noah’s schedule anywhere. Hence, you poked your head into Mrs James' classes, “hi, sorry”, you said, ducking as you walked in. The kids were doing some silent reading, but all looked up at you with curious eyes. You leaned over Mrs James' desk “You don’t happen to know where Noah S. might be right now? Lunchbox delivery”

Mrs James was newly pregnant. You’d actually become good friends in the week you’d been here. She was about your age, but had a high school sweetheart, which was why she was married. She typed away on her laptop and then turned it to show you the screen. “He should be with Dr Grace. Do you know where his classroom is?” She pointed at the screen showing you. This new system confused you; your old school used something else entirely. You thought for a moment, Dr Grace? You’ve never come across him, not even in the staff room. Mrs James stood, “Kids”, she clapped. “Five more minutes of reading and then we can continue, Miss Taylor, watch them for me”, she nodded to her teaching assistant, who winked back. “Come”, she smiled.

You followed Mrs James down a few halls while she told you about Dr Grace, he’d been here a while, turns up early on a bike and leaves late, doesn’t really come to the staff room unless he’s out of sugar for his coffee, apparently the teachers think he’s either married or single, single because no ring but this is the behaviour of a married male teacher. But she gushed about him, “Oh, the kids love him! And apparently some of the ta’s, but I don’t see it? Maybe because I’m married”, she trailed off.

In the science wing, she stopped and pointed, “Second door on the left” She smiled and turned, heels clicking down the hallway. You stood still; it wasn’t like you to be nervous, but you could hear a male voice faintly through the walls. You looked over Noah’s lunchbox, stickers of Transformers littered on it. You took a deep breath and drifted towards the door; two knocks, and you opened it.

Some kids perked up, “Miss (L/n)!” They whispered. You shhh’ed them. Dr Grace was standing at the front of the class, showing a diagram of some plant cells, which was covered in projector lights, not doing you much justice.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt, Dr Grace. I have Noah’s lunchbox; his father brought it in” You smiled towards Noah, a sweet kid; he jumped up.

“Wait!”

A small green sack flew towards Noah, and he caught it surprisingly well. Dr Grace moved out from the projector lights, giving you a proper look at him. Oh, you see what these teaching assistants are on about. Dirty blonde, short stubble, glasses hanging from his ear, resting on his chin and beautiful blue eyes. He was wearing a grey suit, a duck egg blue shirt, and a red tie. He was leaning back on a table, looking right back at you.

“Noah, roughly how long does it take for the sun's light to reach Earth?”

“8 hours?” The kid said.

Dr Grace's head dropped. He chuckled, “No, toss it back, get your lunchbox” Noah tossed the sack back and left his chair with a squeak. He thanked you for his lunch box.

“Miss (L/n)”

You brought your attention back to Dr Grace, who was motioning to him, throwing you the sack. You opened your hands, and he gently tossed it to you. The kids were watching eagerly.

“Which Apollo moon mission was the first to carry a lunar rover?”

He smiled so endearingly. It’s been years since even the thought of being attracted to someone crossed your mind. You were so focused on school and teaching. Well, if you’re going to do this, may as well try to impress him. You secretly hope he is actually single and not secretly married.

“Uh, Apollo 15”, tossing back the sack, it hit in the square in the chest with an ‘oof’. With that, you winked at him and quickly waltzed out the door.

He stood there for a while, smiling to himself. He hadn’t met the new teacher, but he heard of her. Mrs James caught him in the hallway once when he was opening his classroom “Oh, Dr Grace, you really must say hello, she’s such a pretty thing” She was right.

“Wow, Miss (L/n) is smart”, whispered the kids.

Which brings you to now. You’re sitting in your car outside your apartment, double-checking that it is World Book Day. The weather is dreadful, you’ve never seen rain like this, it’s almost hailing. Your book, tucked neatly in your tote bag, is The Princess and the Pea. Dr Grace had kindly lent you his green sack as the pea. You are dressed in blue check pyjama pants, a pink princess dress with milkmaid sleeves and a tiara. You would’ve worn the dress on its own, but it’s a school. And what’s more fun than wearing pyjamas?

Oh, Dr Grace. He’s going to be soaking. You tap your steering wheel thoughtfully. You fish your phone out of your tote bag and find his contact. “Dr Grace 🧪”, he’d labelled himself as. The only message history was general questions about school days off and teachers' meetings.

“Fuck it”

You pressed call. You sat, listening to the pounding rain, as your phone rang. You wondered if this was a message from a higher-up. Don’t go to school as a princess, no other teachers will be dressed up! It whispered.

“Uh, hello?” A voice came through the phone, you jumped, and I put it to your ear.

“Oh, Dr Grace! It’s (Y/n) I was just wonde-“

“Ryland”, he said.

“I’m sorry?” God had you offended him? Was calling him like this a bit unprofessional? Did you scare him off?

“I asked you to call me Ryland, and you still call me Dr Grace”, he mused.

“Right, sorry.” You tapped your foot on the accelerator pedal of your car, hearing her hum. “Look, it’s pouring down, and I’m just down the road from you. I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up for work?” It was bold for sure.

“No, no! I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way,” he said.

Slightly deflated, you thought for a second. “Can I bribe you with coffee?”

“Deal.” He said quickly. You giggled, telling him you’d be there in 5.

Pulling up on what you think is the right road, you set your car into park and start moving your tote bag into the back seat. It was still hammering it down. Fuck. You just realised what you’d done. You were dressed as a princess, with a pea. See, when you asked Ryland for the green sack, you didn’t specify what for. You groaned and hit your forehead on the wheel. He’s so going to laugh at you.

The car door opening made you jump. And in slid Dr Grace. Who was dressed differently? He put his book bag in the footwell of your car, and you both stared at each other. He was wearing smart olive-green pants, a pale green shirt, a knitted olive jumper, and a green headband with eyes on it.

“You’re a princess?” He chuckled.

You blushed deeply and rolled your eyes. “Well, it’s better than… whatever you are!” You laughed.

He scoffed and pretended to look offended. “I’ll have you know I am a frog!”

You both laughed. “From what book?”

You watched as he reached into the footwell, rummaging through his bag for his book. He pulled it out and handed it to you. It was a book version of Disney’s The Princess and the Frog. “See, I am the frog”, he said, pointing to it.

You blushed even deeper now, peering up at him through your eyelashes. He knotted his eyebrows together in confusion, and then you watched, seeing the cogs in his brain turning. A deep flush settled on his cheeks, and you think he got it.

You were the princess. And he is the frog.

The turnout at school was better than you expected. Kids in comic book character outfits, and most teachers were dressed up this year. Before the kids settled in, you rushed in to see Mrs James. She was dressed as a tiger, a very pregnant one. Her favourite book was The Tiger That Came To Tea.

“You set me up!” You whisper-yell. She was sitting at her desk, nibbling on some toast. She was nearly crying from laughing so much.

“You’ve seen him then”, she said once calmed down, wiping her eyes.

“Seen him! Martha, I gave him a ride to school!” She belted out laughing, and now you were holding your head in your hands.

She rubbed her belly as she took in some breaths to help her stop laughing. “Listen, it’s time you did something about those longing looks”, you tutted and rolled your eyes. “I’ve seen it! He never used to come to the staff room, but now there he is! Cuddled up next to you,” She wasn’t lying.

You two often shared a sandwich or some toast during morning break, and you felt comfortable with him. He was always close, knees touching or shoulders touching. You’d always told yourself it was because the staff room was small, he didn’t have anywhere else to sit! But then he started bringing you coffee, in front of everyone, asking how many sugars, making it right in the staff room in your favourite mug, and bringing it to you with a soft smile.

The rest of the day went quickly. Kids usually can’t settle on a day like this, so teachers do small, fun tasks instead of actual work. The bell rang for the end of the day, and the room turned into a tornado of young fairies and superheroes running out the door.

“Knock knock.” Ryland was leaning in the doorway of your classroom. Halfway through the day, you realised that since picking him up, he didn’t have his bike to get home. So you could only offer to take him home.

“Ribbit”, you playfully said back. You slung your tote bag over your shoulder and faced him. He looked different. There was a look in his eye. Mischievous. More sure of himself, almost.

The ride back was filled with general work talk, how Mrs James was getting along with her pregnancy, what kids are causing you grief, etc. The rain had cleared up, but because it was winter, the sun was slowly setting.

“Listen about today”, Ryland started. Oh no, he was going to have this dreadful talk with you about how you’ve gone too far and embarrassed him, he’s married, of course, and you shouldn’t have overstepped that boundary-

“I’m sorry, " you cut him off. Focusing on parking. After you parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and looked at him. “I understand today may have crossed a professional boundary, I may have voiced a silly schoolgirl crush to Mrs James about you and totally embarrassed myself-“

“No, (Y/n)-”

“Mrs James played along and maybe pushed too far-“

“(Y/n) stop.” He took your hands in his, causing you to fall silent. You met his eyes, and he looked bashful. “I may have asked Mrs James to set this up.” Your jaw dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “How could I not, you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever met, and since working with you I’ve just….come to like you a lot more than friends.”

He whispered the last part. You were blushing deeply. This man, whom nearly every teacher’s assistant has had a crush on, has gravitated towards you. “Well”, you started. “I may or may not have a little crush on you” you blushed and looked away.

He chuckled. “Well, that’s good to know.” He squeezed your hand.

You both sat there a while. Holding hands and sharing looks. There was a slight patter of rain now, the sunset turning the sky completely orange, casting a golden light onto Ryland's face. “Can I ask you something?” He spoke.

You nodded. “Since I’m a frog”, he sat up now, pointing to himself. “And you’re a princess”, you nodded again. “I was wondering if you would be so kind as to turn me into a prince?”

You blinked. A prince? You studied his face to get any clues as to what he was talking about, and it was only when a deep flush settled on his face that it clicked. Of course. His book. In The Princess and the Frog, she has to kiss him for him to become a prince.

You leaned in towards him, your hand freeing from him and reaching towards his knitted jumper. Ryland watched with his mouth slightly open as your fingers curled around his jumper and pulled him closer.

Your lips ghosted his, and then you planted a soft kiss. It started softly at first. A small peck. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt his hand settle on your jaw, deepening the kiss. Your hand reached up and settled on the back of his neck, feeling his soft hair. You tested the waters by opening your mouth a bit more, letting his tongue in. It was slow and sloppy. He made a noise, you barely caught it, and he pulled you away.

He was a vision. His eyes were blown, deep pink settled in his cheeks, and your lipstick smudged all around his mouth. His forearm was awkwardly pressed into his lap, and you realise what the noise was about. “I need to take you on a date.” He spoke. “I can’t be doing that before I date you, " he looked out the window now, shaking his head and laughing.

You giggled and started using your thumb to wipe off the lipstick around his face “Doing what?”

“You got me a bit excited there.” His voice was now gravely.

Your heart fluttered. You didn’t dare meet his eyes; you knew exactly what he meant. It was strange hearing it from him. This charming gentleman, who flirted with you through corny science jokes, had a hard-on. And you liked it. More than you expect. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Let me take you on a date. A proper one”

“Okay, handsome, when?” You met his blue orbs with a smile. And it was his turn to blush now.

“I’ll FaceTime you later, and we can set a date?” It was more of a question; he was rummaging around in the footwell now, grabbing his books and bag. You nodded, feeling excited but slightly sad he was going.

He stepped out of the car, and you watched him wave as he walked up the steps to his apartment. You sat there with your foot on the brake, feeling like a little girl again. Before you could pull off, you saw a blur of green running around the back of the car. Ryland was standing at your window, asking you to roll it down.

You slid down the window and spoke, “What are you do-“

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his hands and brought his lips to yours. Sparkles flew as he sloppily kissed you, hands running through your hair. You savoured him as if you couldn’t get enough.

He broke off the kiss and grinned, “Sorry, princess, I had to! I’ll phone you later for the date!” He left you nearly bright purple in the car seat. Giggling as he ran up his apartment stairs. Ryland Grace was taking you on a date. Thank you, Mrs James!!

[lov3lanuage]

Part two out now!!

[lov3lanuage]

Dinner date

Ryland Grace x Reader Or World Book Day part 2

I watched La La land at my friends recommendation and that film is a horror movie omg. But ryan looked unreal so I used some of sebs vibe and fashion in this.

Warnings: none? Fluff, tiny bit steamy but I’m in it for the long run okay, slow burn,

Word count: 3k

Part 1

Ryland FaceTimed you that night. Like it was no big deal to your sensitive heart, like it was a routine for him. You two danced around the topic for a bit, talking about things going on in the world and at work.

“So this date”, he finally said. You were both now lying in bed, you with a facemask on, just browsing Netflix, and he watching something on YouTube. The phone screen illuminated his face, and you could see your reflection in his glasses. He was lazily resting his arm over his head, and now and then, you got a peek at his collar bones, confirming he was shirtless. Once he caught you, he would blush and rub his hand over his chest, almost as if to hide. “I want to take you to that new fancy restaurant in town.”

You thought for a second. “Florentinos?!” He nodded. “I’ve been wanting to go for ages!” You immediately pulled up the menu on your phone and read a few options to him.

“Okay, honey, when is best for you?” He asked.

You two confirmed a date, and then he said his sweet goodnights. The next few days were hell for everyone but you two. Mrs James was almost sick of being in the staff room when both of you were in there at the same time. “They’re twitterpated.” She would whisper. Ryland wouldn’t let you pick him up for work anymore, saying something ridiculous like it was bad luck to spend too much time together before the first date.

Then came the night of your date. You’d looked up a few outfit ideas online and checked how fancy or non-fancy Florentinos actually are. It was hard to gauge, so you went with the classic. Little black dress. It was a mini dress with a V-neckline. Just the right amount of skin showing. To make it less distracting, you put on a sparkly necklace and earrings, and you paired it with some knee-high black boots.

Touching up your lipstick in the mirror, you glanced at the clock. 7.20pm, Ryland should be here soon. You gathered the rest of your things into a small shoulder bag and grabbed a blazer to pair with. You waited patiently by the door of your apartment, trying not to make too much noise in case Ryland heard you waiting.

Car lights illuminated your front room as they pulled into your driveway. That must be him, but in a car? You bit your fingers as you thought about how you didn’t know he could drive. A knock brought you back. You waited, 5, 10 seconds before opening, not wanting to look too eager.

Ryland looked up from his shoes, and his cheeks turned pink. He was wearing a very nice, pale white or almost pale yellow shirt, a long, thin tie, and fancy dress pants. He was clutching a bunch of flowers and a bottle of champagne.

“Oh, Ryland, you didn’t-“

“No, I had to- “ he cut you off.

You smiled and motioned for him to come in. This is when he got a proper look at you. Your dress hugged you in all the right places, showing your thighs just enough to tease him. The V-neck showed off your chest and collar bones. He was wondering if you used some body oil, given how radiant you looked. He caught a hint of perfume as you leaned in and took the flowers and champagne from him. It was a mix of creamy florals and fresh violets. Your hair was styled into long princess waves, with the front sections neatly pinned back. “You look-“ he took in a breath. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You blushed as you put the flowers into a clear vase of water. You came closer to him, picked a bit of lint off his shoulder, and smoothed his shirt. “I really like this shirt.” You whispered, almost appalled at how well a man in a suit could bewitch you.

He chuckled and kissed your temple. “Let's go,” he whispered back.

This is where you found out he actually had a car. An old classic Chevy Impala, you had no idea about the year, but it was obviously well looked after. Sleek black bonnet and shiny silver rims “So this is your little secret?” You said,

He smiled bashfully and opened the door for you. “M’lady”

On the drive over, he told you the car was passed down through his family. Now, he was the only one left, so he hid the car away in a nearby garage instead of running it into the ground. He didn’t delve deep into his family, and you understood it was probably a sore subject. He drove with a hand resting on the steering wheel and the other gently resting on your knee. You’d wondered where this man had come from. At work, he was cute, charming and nerdy. And suddenly he was smooth and sexy. Well, he was always sexy, especially when sometimes you’d walk in on him marking papers after the kids had left and he’d remove his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, showing off his neck and collarbones. But this Ryland was different. Even he knew that. He was serious about this; it was just him. His family all passed before their time. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, so when you came along, he decided he wouldn’t let his chance pass. There wasn’t any time for dancing around the subject. He was still an absolute mess inside; he couldn’t believe he had the chance to take such a gorgeous woman on a date.

The restaurant was nice. Cosy and romantic with a piano player in the middle. The waitress took you over to a snug booth in the corner, she introduced herself, placed menus down and asked for drinks. Ryland wanted a Guinness, and you went with a simple Negroni.

Food arrived shortly after; you went with Alfredo chicken, and Ryland had simple Carbonara. After a few minutes, Ryland could see you eying up his food. “You want some?” He asked. You nodded and licked his lips. He spun his fork through some spaghetti and lifted it. You went to take it from him, but he pulled back. “No…” he trailed off. You hummed in confusion. “Open.” A fire ignited in your stomach. He was staring you directly in the eyes, holding the fork at mouth level. You couldn’t see in this light, but you were both burning up. You delicately opened your mouth and allowed him to place the fork in. He watched eagerly as your mouth closed around the fork and slid the food off. His eyes drifted down to your mouth and watched your tongue poke out to lick up any remaining sauce, and he gulped.

“Oh wow”, you swallowed. “That’s unreal.” The conversation flowed now. Ryland asked you what you did on the weekends, any TV shows you were watching, and what music you liked to listen to. You even told Ryland about a baby shower you were going to, out of town in a few days, that one of your childhood friends, Lily, had invited you to. “Have you ever thought about kids?” You asked.

He swirled his fork in his spaghetti and thought. “Yeah, I mean before becoming a teacher I was terrified of kids. I still am a bit scared of babies, but I think kids are cool now. I’d love to one day bring up my own.”

“Why are you scared of babies?” you giggled.

“They’re so small and fragile! And they cry a lot and poop.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Well, that’s all they can do! I think if babies could talk, then parenting would be too easy. Yeah, they cry, but that’s all they can do; it’s about figuring out what they need.”

He nodded. You were right. Maybe babies were easy; they’d be easier with you, that’s for sure. Woah Ryland. First date! You two talked and talked, sometimes about trivial things and sometimes about serious things. Ryland told you a few space missions were coming up in the next few years, and he even invited you to watch the launch of some of them. You’d realised at some point all the Negronis you’d had were hitting you, Ryland had just stayed drinking some lemonade, considering he had to drive. You decided that it was the last round. “I’ll be back in two seconds.” You said standing up.

You practically sprinted to the ladies' room, fearing your makeup had slid off your face. You managed to get to a mirror and…oh, it’s still perfect. You rummaged in your purse for some powder and lip liner. An old lady emerged from one of the cubicles and washed her hands at the sink next to you. She looked you up and down, smiled gently and carefully left the toilets. You ran your hands under some cold water and let it drip down your neck onto your back, hoping it would cool you down.

Now, feeling much less drunk and alert, you left that bathroom to reunite with Ryland. He stood at the end of the booth with the old lady from the bathroom. “My, you two are quite the couple. Tell me, dear, how long have you been together?” She questioned.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s actually our first date.”

She gasped, and you joined him at his side. “Oh, lovely!” She caught your hand in her grasp. “He’s quite the catch, dear”, she winked. “You two will make lovely babies one day.” You both blushed, and she waddled off.

Ryland's hand rested on your lower back as you picked up your blazer. “Ready?” He asked you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the table for the bill. “I got it, don’t worry.”

“Ryland! I would’ve-“

“I wouldn’t have let you.” He took your hand in his and led you out the door.

The drive back was quiet. Not awkward, quiet but content. The night was warm, and you were comfortably leaning back in the seat just watching out the window. A hand on your knee brought you back. “You okay?” Ryland questioned.

You nodded and smiled. “Always.” His hand gently drew circles on your skin, his fingers really feeling your soft skin under his. You peered up at him. He was watching the road, so your eyes drifted back to his hand. He used the back of his hand to smooth up your naked thigh, then he would turn his hand over and gently squeeze your skin. His touch burned; you hoped he couldn’t feel how warm you were. You sat up in your seat and slid over the connected seats, tugging at his arm. You pulled it up and over your head, and he rested it on the back of the seat. You cuddled into his side, one hand resting on his chest. Your hand slipped into the soft fabric, feeling for anything beneath. It was soft but tough; you could tell he worked out on his days off or something like that. You feel him shift under you, using his free hand to pinch at the leg of his pants and pull them down. Oh. You glanced down, and your suspicions were confirmed; he was hiding a growing bulge. You thought about teasing him some more, running your hand up to his chest and then down to rest on his thigh, but then remembered he was actually driving, so you stopped.

“Hey, I have a question”, he said. You nodded, “I have a thing.”

“A thing?” You interrupted.

“Yeah, a thing, uh, more like an award thing from the teachers' society, they’ve gone all out for some reason, it’s a big fancy event. I have two tickets and no one to come, so…I was wondering if you’d be my date?”’

You grinned. “Oh, I’d love to, Ryland! I have a dress I’ve been waiting to wear!”

“Good, I’m glad, we’ll sort out the details later.”

You felt the familiar bumps to your driveway and sighed as he put the car in park. He snuggled you even closer with his arm and let his lips rest on your forehead. “Thank you for coming on such a wonderful date with me.” With a gentle kiss, he stepped out of the car and with your hand in his, he helped you out. With his hands in his pockets, he walked you to your apartment door and watched as you stepped.

“Thank you for tonight, Ryland. It was amazing.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you at work? Monday?” He asks.

You nod and watch as he slowly walks back down the drive. You go to shut the door, but god something tells you to stop. “Ryland!” He stops and turns, a hopeful look on his face. “Look, it’s Saturday, I have a bottle of champagne to finish and a movie I accidentally rented from Amazon to watch, so… would you wanna come in for a bit?” You shuffled your feet.

He met you at your doorway “What movie?”

“Princess Bride.”

“I love that movie!” He chuckled.

“Well, please come in” You grabbed his hand and yanked him inside.

Now he has a good look at your little apartment. It was cosy and cute. The living room and kitchen were open plan, with a nice olive green recliner sofa with a matching ottoman and walnut coffee table, oh and a cat tree? You took off your boots and grabbed some champagne glasses from a tall cupboard. “Make yourself at home,” he nodded, took off his own shoes, and made his way toward the sofa. You followed behind him and placed the bottle and glasses on the coffee table, you pulled the top off the ottoman and pulled out a big cream blanket. “Here.” You handed him the TV remote. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryland made himself comfy on your sofa and used the remote to flick through the TV's apps until he found Amazon.

Hmbeow

He looked to his left and nearly jumped. A black cat sat on the sofa cushion next to him, slowly blinking its big yellow eyes. He felt like he was being judged by this cat, as if the cat was your little puppet to see what he was doing while alone.

You entered the living room again and smiled, “Oh, I see you’ve met Mr Merlin.” Still wearing your little dress, you sat down and picked up the cat, making baby voices at him.

“Merlin, huh?” Ryland questioned, raising his finger to rub under the cat's chin.

You hummed. “Hmm, from King Arthur, Merlin the wizard always had a black cat, so when I found this little gremlin on my porch, I had to keep him.” Ryland smiled and leaned forward, popping the cork of the champagne and pouring you a glass. You sat on the edge of the couch as he poured his own and then turned to face you. “To?” You asked.

He clinked your glasses. “To you and me.”

You blushed under the cosy light and took a sip.

The movie started slowly, with you two awkwardly perched next to each other on the sofa, making comments on what was going on. As the night went on, he felt you slowly inching closer until his arm was lazily placed around you. He reached his hand behind you and slowly felt your soft hair, and you yawned. He grumbled, leaned over, found a pillow on the floor, and placed it in his lap. You took the invitation and lay your head in his lap, pulling the blanket to your shoulder.

Ryland's eyes fluttered open when he felt something pushing his arm. Merlin was on the arm of the sofa, using his paw to push his hand out of the way. It was quiet now. The TV had automatically turned off, and the lights had dimmed, just the sound of the city outside. He realised you’d both fallen asleep, you were still in his lap, mouth slightly open. Okay, so he needed a plan, he needed a leak first, and then to get you into bed. He gently lifted your head, slid out from under the pillow, and let you snuggle back into it.

He puffed out a breath of air and then made his way down the hall to find the bathroom. First, he stumbled into your room, and he thought about leaving, but then saw shoes all over your bed and chuckled. You’d obviously had a struggle finding what shoes to wear. He looked over your room some more and saw a vanity littered with jewellery and makeup. There were picture frames of drawings from some of these kids in school, which made him smile. He moved quickly but managed to find a place for all the shoes to sit neatly. He closed your closet doors and then started making your bed, fluffing the pillows. Once finished, he made his way back out to your bathroom. He was surprised to find almost a spa-like bathroom, with fresh eucalyptus hanging above his shower head and Lush products scattered around. Oh, she likes Lush, good to know, he thought to himself. While taking a leak, he scanned his eyes over the sink and the mirror. There was a perfume on the shelf before the mirror, and your toothbrush sat in a “Best Sister” mug.

After washing his hands, he made his way back to the living room, where you were still sleeping. Your back was now turned to him, and Merlin had snuggled himself in the crook of your legs. “Sorry, pal, I’m gonna have to move her.” He whispered to the cat.

Not wanting to wake you, he wrapped you up in the blanket, hooked an arm under your legs, let you roll into his chest, and, in one swift move, lifted you. You hummed and snuggled into his chest, and his heart ached. God, how could you be so cute? He moved slowly so as not to wake you and gently set you into bed. Merlin followed and jumped up on the bed as Ryland pulled the duvet up and tucked you in, leaving a small kiss on your temple.

You awoke with a groan, your head pounding. God, what happened? Oh. Your date. Ryland. You shot up. You were in your bed, fully dressed. Merlin was curled in a ball at the bottom of your bed. Wrapping the duvet around you and Merlin meowing in complaint as you stole the blanket off the bed, you made your way to the living room, where you found…nothing. Oh. A Post-it note on the coffee table caught your attention. Since when did you have them? You plucked it off the table and read it with a smile.

Sweetheart,

I would have stayed, but I didn’t want to push the boundaries, and I had no spare clothes. Text me when you’re awake so I know you’re alright. Ryland.

So you practically ran back to your bedroom, found your phone lying in a pile of clothes, and texted him.

I’m awake, thank you for the wonderful night, and I’m sorry I fell asleep

You watched the screen for a minute, seeing the Read 9:37AM under the message. A typing animation pops up and disappears a few times before the message finally comes through.

Don't be sorry, you looked so cute :(( I'll FaceTime you later to let you know about that event, okay?

Okay

You squealed with delight. Your first date went perfectly. You had butterflies just thinking about the next date, that’s when a text alert sounded, and you saw an image. It was the invitation to the event; it listed the location, time, and theme—black tie. You smiled. This is an easy way to tease Ryland.

[lov3lanuage]

Distant Lover

I Ryland Grace x Reader

hello again, I’m not too sure on this one, it’s a big angsty and mainly from the readers pov but I just had this whole idea in my head and wrote it out last night, but I’m a sucker for a happy ending. As the title suggests I was listening to Distant Lover by Marvin Gaye, please give it a listen and you’ll feel the type of yearning I was. Anyway, again I’m not sure idk of this is good but I’m putting it down there.

Warnings: mention of suicide, lot of sad scenes and angst, a lot of story going on, very reader based? There is a baby?

Word count: 5.5K

Distant lover, lover

Oh, so many miles away

Oh, Heaven knows that I long for you

Every night, every night and sometimes I yearn through the day

Ryland and I were married on a hot summers morning. Exchanging teary vows under a canopy of flowers and shrubbery. Our first dance was the to the song Distant Lover by Marvin Gaye. Which had become our song when we were just fresh lovers, dancing in our crappy apartment kitchen with pancakes burning on the stove. We still held hands under the table at dinner, staring into each others eyes blushing. The day we become one was the best of our lives. Everything seemed to slip into place, it just felt right. Both our small families and friends coming together to help us celebrate. I never thought we would ever be apart.

“Mrs Grace”

Stratt stood in the doorway of my apartment. A tall bodyguard behind her. Gray and cold as always. “Ava?” I said.

A few months ago Stratt had approached your husband about a job. Project Hail Mary. I wasn’t supposed to know all the ins and outs of this project but on the rare occasion I got a phone call from Ryland he told me. I was his wife for god sake.

“Mrs Grace may I please come in?” She motioned to the room.

“Okay?”

I stepped back and let her and the man in. She was wearing a black cap and holding a messenger bag in one hand and laptop in another. She sits on my olive green sofa and sighs.

“Mrs Grace I regret to inform you there was an accident at the launch pad a few days ago.” She spoke.

I gasped. “Is everyone okay? Is Ryland okay?”

“One of the scientists who volunteered for Project Hail Mary was unfortunately killed in the accident.” She took her hat off. “You may want to sit”

My hands shook. I couldn’t breath. Everything she was saying sounded like a dream, like I was underwater. “We had to send Dr Grace in his place.” The coffee mug I was holding hit the floor and smashed.

“What?” I barely croaked out.

“I am sorry. It was for the greater good. He was the best scientist on my team. Believe me he did not take it lightly-“

“Stop talking!” I yelled. “You sent my husband on a suicide mission he didn’t even want to go on!” I cried now. Tears hitting my cheeks as I pointed in Stratts face. The bodyguard stepped closer. Now I was panicking. Emotions taking over. My whole body felt like I’d been in a car crash. My chest was crushed, my head was swirling. “I’m going to vomit.” I said. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“We have a collection of his items for you.” She opened the messenger bag and pulled out a small box. I cried harder realising all of this was real. “We did also sample his DNA” she spoke. I shuddered as I wiped my tears, trying to catch my breath. “If you ever wanted a child, we could sample your DNA and make an embryo”

“Why would I want to bring a child up in a world that’s dying. ON MY OWN!” I screamed now. The audacity of this woman. Thinking what she was doing was right. “Get out.”

She pulled a few files out her bag first and placed them on the coffee table, then stood to leave. As soon as the door shut I broke down, collapsing to the floor. Sobbing so hard I could barely breath.

This went on for some time, weeks turned into months and months turned into years. My neighbours called a wellness check on me once with how much I was crying. I was treated differently now, in work, in public, everyone looked at me with pity. I guess some people understand what I’m going through, those who have lost loved ones well before their time.. Most of these people could grieve in private. Me? I was like a celebrity now. I will never forget the first time I was asked to do a public speech for America. My husband was the hero, not me. Neither of us chose this life, and they wanted me to stand on a podium about how righteous I was for sacrificing my love. Fuck off. They even made a little grave in a nearby cemetery for people to go and visit. I didn’t know how to feel about that, I guess it was to help people have somewhere to put their grief. Not me.

Like Stratt said, the earth got colder. It wasn’t noticeable at first but after 3 years, winter was coming earlier and earlier, summer wasn’t scorching anymore, and food and oil prices were through the roof. In one of those files she left me she explained I was entitled to some form of compensation from multiple governments, considering I was married to Ryland who it was supposed to go to, but he wasn’t here. It wasn’t much but it certainly helped. With this money I bought a house, a new car, things to keep me going.

Distant lover, oh lover

You should think about me, say a prayer for me

Please, please baby,

Think about me sometime, think about me

Here in misery, misery

I spent alot of my time in the garden of my house, staring at the stars, playing that Marvin Gaye record. I had a telescope gifted to me by Ryland for one of our wedding anniversary’s. It was currently programmed to follow Saturn, as the earth rotates Saturn would go out of view so they made telescopes with certain functions so they follow planets. I guessed Ryland was near there, I wasn’t a scientist so I had no idea how fast he would be travelling, I just know in about 7 years he will wake up on his ship, no idea what happened to him or me. Only two crew mates to be with.. A tear rolled down my face.

It was a few months later when my phone rang while I was in the grocery store. “Mrs Grace” a Dutch accent spoke into my ear. I scoffed as I picked up some bread and placed in my cart.

“Stratt” I said bluntly.

“Later in the day the world leaders are all going to make an announcement. I need to discuss something with you before hand.”

I eyed up some cheese, we haven’t had cheese for a while now. “What are you on about” I swapped the phone to my other ear.

“I will be at your house in 1 hour. Do not be late.” The phone beeped as she hung up. I scoffed again and threw it in my purse.

An hour later on the dot, a knock came at my door. I opened and the red head and her body guard walked in. I wasn’t happy to see them, if anything it reminded me of the day Ryland… I can’t even think about it.

“Mrs Grace. The world leaders are soon to announce probably the biggest risk in human history later tonight.”

I listened as she told me that the same coma they put Ryland and the two crew members in was to be distributed world wide, if the planet really was going to become an ice age and wipe out the planet then when they eventually find a cure for the astrophage problem they will need some population. They can’t just start again. So, most of the world population will be moved underground, into cold giant sleeping pods where everyone will be in a coma for who knows how long. It will slow down aging until it almost stops, but it can’t stop because that would kill you. Most world leaders, government officials and scientists have opted out, they need to stay awake to make sure everyone else survives, and then also need to be awake when and if the Hail Mary makes contact with their findings.

“Because you are wife to Dr Grace, you have been offered a bed. At first they were being bought by greedy billionaires and their wives, but we have taken over. Everyone has a fair chance, if you opt out, your bed will go to the next person. It’s a lottery”

I didn’t know if this was good or bad. I guess good because Stratts right, in any situation the billionaires would be greedy and buy it all for their friends and shareholders. It disgusted me. But this system meant people of all ages, races, culture and wealth were offered a bed.

Everything moved quickly after that, it truly was like doomsday on earth. Think of the movie 2012 but without the earth eating itself, just the chaos of people. I accepted the long nap for some reason. I guess it was almost 50/50, I either stay awake and suffer with depression or I can kind of slowly die, peacefully. If the Hail Mary never make contact then I will wake up to a cold dark world and die with everyone else.

As I reminisce, ah baby

Through our joyful summer together

The promises we made

All the daily letters

Then all of a sudden

Everything seemed to explode

Now I gaze out my window

Sugar, down a lonesome road

“Grace have mate? Question?” Rocky asked.

Ryland sighed. His eyes glossing over as he fiddled with his wedding ring. “Uh yeah bud, her name is (Y/n)”

Rocky squealed “Rocky love (Y/n)” Ryland chuckled as Rocky happily bounced around in his ball, yeah me too, he thought.

Rocky continued to ask questions about (Y/n) which helped Ryland through his grief. He hated Stratt, he didn’t even get to say goodbye. He cried for a while when he first woke up, first he lost his two crew mates and now he lost you. He used to sit flicking through pictures they had packed last minute of you two for hours. His favourites included one of you in the bath, clay mask smeared on your face and bubbles up to your shoulders. Another was a sneaky shot of his, you were stood in the kitchen of your shared apartment, just one of Rylands tops on and plain black panties, grinning at him. His memories slowly came back which just made the grieving process worse. But soon the grief turned into motivation, you were alone on that planet with a dying sun, the least he could do was his duty. Then of course he met Rocky. Another alien who was years away from his home, also missing a mate back home. They helped each other through the grief.

I awoke with a startle, like in a dream when you fall and your body jolts you awake. “Mrs Grace, welcome back” a small female voice said. I rubbed my eyes and groaned. I felt so tired, where even was I? What was happening? I looked down and I was laying in a hospital bed, multiple IVs and lines of medicine going in my arms. “Welcome to 2028”

What. 16 years? I layed back. The nurse continued to explain what had been happening while I was asleep but I didn’t really listen. All I could think of was Ryland. If they’ve woken me up surely they’ve heard something, the nurse looks cheery enough. I moved from my bed with a groan, my limbs were so heavy, “Mrs Grace we recommend staying in bed” the nurse spoke.

“I want to see out the window” I croaked. She nodded and gently helped me up and over to the window. I was above ground, which was good. The view was unreal. A long countryside dusted with a light layer of snow and fog. “Is the sun okay?” I questioned.

The nurse smiled and nodded. “She will be.”

It took me a few days to really wrap my head around, I looked in the mirror of the bathroom in my hospital room, I hadn’t changed a bit. I mean my hair was a lot longer, and I maybe lost a little weight but other than that I even felt the same. Who knew being in a coma for 16 years just felt like a really long sleep. After I was eating and sleeping fine the doctors signed me off and allowed me to go and mingle with all the other people they were slowly waking up. We were in a little town, similar to mine back home. I didn’t even know what country I was in anymore, after doomsday we were all just thankful to be alive.

I was sat in my little cottage, in a rocking chair with some hot chocolate when the farm door creaked open. I peered over. A woman stood in the door, Stratt. I was almost happy to see her. “Stratt” I said, standing up. She stood into the light and smiled in pity. She was older, her once red hair now a light grey, wrinkles settled into her face.

“I have received word from Hail Mary” she spoke. My heart stopped. “The beetles arrived about a month ago, Captain Ryland Grace has successfully managed to find a solution to astrophage and after doing multiple experiments we have been seeing a decrease in astrophage reproduction.”

“So, the sun will survive?” I asked stroking my arm. My face felt hot, I was welling up.

She nodded and I cried. I couldn’t believe it. My husband and his crew had successfully saved our entire planet and sun and therefore our solar system.

“I have more.” She said. I wiped my tears and watched as she placed a laptop on my coffee table. “I have compiled all the video logs Dr Grace made for you, this laptop is yours.” She turned the screen to face me and I saw hours and hours of video logs facing me.

I sat down and pulled the laptop closer. Just the thumbnails were making me cry again, seeing his face in a little square knowing he made it. She left at some point, leaving me just staring at the laptop not knowing what to do. So I decided to handle it the adult way, I went to my kitchen and made a nice hearty meal and then plugged the laptop into my tv. I used the touchpad to click on the first video and pressed play.

The first few minutes were gut wrenching, I’m guessing Stratt cut out most of it but it was Ryland just crying and saying his sorrows, he explained his two crew mates didn’t survive the coma so it was just him.. After a few more videos I could tell he was coming to terms, he started focusing on science. Then I met Rocky. I was absolutely star struck at him. This alien life form had obviously helped my husband process his grief.

“Hello Grace mate (Y/n)!” He mused, Ryland was in the back typing away on his computer as Rocky explained this little mission to me and everything going on.

I sat for hours and hours taking in as much footage as I could, even rewinding a few times to fully comprehend the science they were explaining.

“Hi (Y/n)” Ryland spoke. This was one of the few times he had directely named me. “I’m having a rough time,” he held his head in his hands as he spoke. “I have this hole in my chest, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, the grief of losing you but you’re not really gone.” His voice cracked. “I hope you have found someone else, someone you like.” He paused. “Actually I’m just saying that but I hope for your sake that you do whatever it takes to be happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t leave a piece of myself with you, or say goodbye. I’m just-I’m so-sorry” The video ended just as he got emotional.

A few more hours of video and he explained he wasn’t coming home, the taumoeba was eating through the zenonite cases they had made and he explained Rocky’s ship was made of zenonite. He showed the beetles and everything he was sending back before the screen went dark. It was just me, staring back at my black tv screen. I sobbed for a bit, my brave handsome husband had chosen to save Rocky because he saved him. I couldn’t be more proud.

I dreamt of him that night, unknowingly falling asleep on the sofa.

The next day I drove to a nearby dog shelter. A few rich people and world leaders who stayed awake kept their dogs with them and kept breading them leading to too many dogs and no enough humans. I walked around for bit until I found a medium sized mangy dog, he was brown with brittle through his coat. “He’s got a lovely temperament ma’am” the young worker said to me.

“I’ll take him.” I said.

“Come on Rocky!” I shouted. I’ve had Rocky a year now, he was a terrier cross something but I loved him. We were currently finishing our morning walk in the park. My phone started buzzing when Rocky dropped the tennis ball at my feet. I pulled the phone out and read the screen. Stratt.

“Hello Mrs Grace.” She spoke.

“Hello Stratt.” I spoke back, I threw the ball for Rocky and he barked as he chased it.

“I’m sending a car to pick you up in about 30 minutes. Be ready.” Beep beep beep.

She hung up. I scoffed. She didn’t even ask if I was busy? Whatever. I was ready, like she said. I took Rocky home and changed into semi professional clothes, I’d been allowed to listen in on some new government meetings and so on. Again because my husband “sacrificed” himself they all think they need to give back to me by letting me in these meetings and having my input. Most were about food or money or the economy. It had only been a few months since everyone woke up though so I’m not entirely sure what they’re expecting.

“Babies.” A Russian female spoke. “We need babies” she spoke again.

We were all sat around a huge round table, respective flags placed on our side. Some people have a translator with them but most knew English. A spokeswoman for Great Britain stood up. “We know not everyone survived the Great Sleep” oh yeah, they were calling it the ‘Great Sleep’ now for history books I guess. “We have a population problem, even if we gradually woke everyone, it wouldn’t been enough to keep the economy stable. We need a baby boom.”

I sat silently next to Stratt on the drive back to my home. They explained it was like after World War 1 or 2, the economy was shot and people did their duty by having babies. Baby boom. So their solution was more money towards family care, more support and things put into place to help people have babies. Stratt was next to me, typing something away on her laptop. “Hey Stratt” I spoke. She continued typing but made a sound of acknowledgment. “You know all those years ago you said you harvested some of Rylands DNA, do you still have it?”

She nodded. “Yes. It was frozen in NASA’s archives.”

“I think I can help with the baby boom...”

Distant lover, ooh sugar

How can you treat my heart so mean and cruel? Didn't you know, sugar,

That every moment that I spent with you

I treasured it, like it was precious jewel, ah baby

Lord, have mercy, ooh

It was a wonderful spring morning when Franklin was welcomed into the world. He weighed 7.5lbs and was possibly the calmest baby ever. I cried when I saw his eyes, they were just like Rylands. I know what you’re thinking Frankin? After Benjamin Franklin? No, he’s named after Rosalind Franklin who discovered the DNA double helix. Because without Rylands DNA, Franklin wouldn’t be here.

I spent countless nights feeding him, soothing him back to sleep. His nursery was space themed, i remember painting the walls a deep purple and hanging paper remakes of the planets from ceiling. I even hung up Tau Ceti and a small paper Hail Mary.

Taking him to park with Rocky was one of my favourites., I met a few nice old ladies on their morning walk who would gush over him. They once asked where his daddy was and I had to do the awkward, ‘my husband is deceased’ talk. They never asked again but still loved to see Franklin.

He reminded me so much of Ryland at only a few months old. It devastated me to know he’ll never meet him, but i decided he would always know who he was and what he did to save us.

It was late in the day now, Franklin was napping in the cot next to my sofa, I was gently rocking it with my foot while eating dinner. My ears perked up when I heard the familiar rumble of an engine on my drive and after two small knocks I knew who it was.

“Stratt, can we do this another day Franklin is sleeping” I say as I open the door. She’s there as I guessed, looking different.

“Mrs Grace this is important. You must come now.” She demanded. I was stunned. She was always straight to the point yes but never demanding. “We have a baby seat for your son. Please, as quickly as possible.” She pointed to the black SUV.

So, I wrapped Franklin up in a blanket, managed to sneak in a baby bag and luckily I was in semi okay pyjamas, they had teddy beard on but hey when Stratt calls you answer. It was silent the whole journey and my mind raced. Is the astrophage coming back? Or is there another world ending thing going to happen.

She brought me to an unknown building, it was dark so I wasn’t really sure where I was. After she passed security with some officers we walked down some cold pale blue halls, Franklin was whimpering in my arms, probably complaining about all the moving. We got to two heavy wooden double doors and she pushed them open. A room full of more government officials and a TV mounted on the wall opposite to me. Great, she couldn’t have warned me, I would’ve changed.

“Mrs Grace.” The American president said. President Garcia, she’d been elected in the ‘New World’ not too long ago, the first female president and it only took 16 years of everyone sleeping to finally get it right. I stopped thinking. Hang on. Nobody had ever actually addressed me at these meetings before “Please sit.” She motioned to an empty chair. I sat and someone placed a glass of water infront of me. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I’m just here as an official, I will hand you over to Mr Izaacman who is the president of NASA” nasa?

The gentleman next to her stood. “Mrs Grace” he said. “We have news.” He moved so he was standing next to the big tv screen on the wall. “We have been monitoring the solar system for a while, as you know one of the beetles was still on course to return.” He explained. A diagram came up on the beetles route back from Tau Ceti to earth, they didn’t all come back at the same time see, sometimes space dust and rocks can get in the way. “But, we found something else.” The image changed.

The Hail Mary.

“We spotted it a few days ago, just out the orbit of the moon.”

Everything stopped. It was like a flash bang had gone off in the middle of the room. My ears rang and tears rolled down my face. “Do we know if-“

“He’s alive ma’am.”

“Oh my god” I sobbed now. He’d come home. I didn’t care about anything else, I had time to ask him how and why he got here later I just cared about Ryland. Even Stratt had a small smile on her face, god Ryland was probably going to beat her ass when he gets down here. I held Franklin up to my chest and sobbed into his baby blanket. A lady official next to me gentle rubbed my back as I cried. The room fell quiet as they let me calm down and gather myself. “How long do we think it will take to rescue him?” I asked.

“We’ve sent astronauts up to the ISS ready for extraction. All together with the travel it’ll be about 5 days.” He explained the ISS sits closer to the earths orbit than the moons. So they’d need to actually get to the moon first to extract Ryland out. “He might need a few days to adjust-“

“No.” Stratt said. Mr Izaacman looked shocked. “He won’t need to adjust to anything, you’ve missed key information.” Stratt stood now, making her way to the Tv. She pointed “This here is the centrifuge. He is using it.” She explained because he was using the centrifuge he was already prepping himself for earths gravity, so he wouldn’t be as shocked by earth’s gravity when he comes back down.

These next five days drag. Everything was a chore, eating, sleeping, just taking my eyes away from the live feed was difficult. So I’ve sat and watched nearly every live feed of the mission but like everyone said, the travel is what took the longest. They televised the start of it, sending the astronauts out to the moon and to find Hail Mary, but they explained nothing else would be filmed.. I just waited. They set up a room for me at NASA, Ryland was going to be hospitalised for a bit after so I needed to stay with him. Franklin was restless, not like himself at all. Maybe it was the change of environment, I didn’t know.

And now I was waiting. In a room with a few government officials.. In the next few minutes he was going to come through those doors. The astronauts sent up to extract him had done so successfully, and had orbited the earth until safely crash landed in a nearby open field. It was televised around the world but I didn’t watch. I wanted to see him with my own eyes.

The room was cold, and silent apart from the clock ticking above me. A nurse was looking after Franklin at the moment, they decided to first test Rylands reaction to just me and then see how much change his body can handle. I heard voices down the hall, multiple, all conversing and laughing. My heart raced. “Dr Ryland Grace” i heard a female voice say, the American president was welcoming him. I couldn’t listen to anything else. My ears were ringing with nervousness, my heart felt like it was going to jump out my chest. And then the doors opened.

Ryland Grace. As handsome and smiley as ever, stared right at me. I slowly stood as tears ran down my face, I’d even put a bit of make up on today fuck. His smile faltered, and he blinked. “(Y/n)?” He spoke. Oh it was like music to my ears. All those years of hearing him through a video I finally get to hear his real voice. I nodded and slowly took a step forward. He removed his glasses and I watched as his eyes glossed over, “no it can’t-“

“It is Ry, I’m okay.”

He bolted towards me. Taking me into his chest as he gripped me tight, he sobbed as he stroked my hair. “I can’t believe you’re okay” he whined. “Oh my god you’re-“ he pulled back and looked at me, his cheeks red and wet from crying. “You’re alive.” He broke into a full sob now, legs giving out under him. I cried and just cradled him for god knows how long. Eventually the officials left and our crying stopped.

“You saved us all Ryland.” We’d moved to a small sofa in the room now, it was hard and uncomfortable, like a sofa in a doctors waiting room. I was playing with his hands, making sure he was actually real and okay. He just kept repeating how grateful he was that I was alive and how I didn’t look a day older than when he left when I should be 16 years older.

He took my face in his hands, “You’re as beautiful as the day I left you.” He said tears welling in his eyes. “Can I kiss you? Are you even still married to me I me-“

I leaned in and kissed him. I felt him relax under my lips. As I pulled away I rest my hand on his jaw. “I was always yours Ryland. That was never ever going to change.” He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes.

“Good I was terrified you’d gone off with some guy called Mark or seomthing.” He sniffled and laughed.

“I do have some news though” I said. That panic in his eye came back, he shuffled in his seat and his shoulders tightened. I took his hands in mind. “It’s wonderful news, I promise.” He relaxed a bit and I stood, I held my finger up motioning to wait for a moment and opened the door to the room. The nurse with Franklin was stood outside, rocking him in her arms as instructed. “He’s been a delight Mrs Grace.” She said as she handed the bundle of blankets to me. I thanked her and walked back inside.

Ryland had his back to me, still sat on the uncomfortable sofa, staring at his hands in his lap. I gulped and slowly settled back into my seat. Rylands eyes met mine and then slowly scanned down towards the small sleeping human wrapped in blankets,“This is Franklin Ryland Grace. Your son” Ryland was mesmerised. “Do you want to hold him?” I asked, Ryland nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek. I gently placed Franklin in his arms and Ryland cried even more.

“Oh my god.” He blubbered. “How- I mean- oh my god he’s beautiful” His hand came up to stroke Franklins face and Frankin made little baby noises in return. I explained the process to Ryland, how Stratt kept his DNA all these years and how technology advanced they were able to create an embryo. He just sobbed, he apologised for not being there for the birth or the first few months of his sons life but promised to be there every step of the way from now on. We both sat in each others arms, admiring our creation, going from silently crying to giggling at eachother catch up stories. It was bliss, after everything that had happened we had ended up back here. Where we were meant to be. Together.

Oh baby, don’t go

Please come back, baby

Something I wanna say

When you left you took all of me with you

Now, Lord

I wonder do you wanna hear me scream and plead

Please please please come back home

Please, baby, come back

“Would you like a coffee mommy?”

I squinted up at Ryland, who’s head was poking out porch door. “Yes please my love. An iced one!” I spoke back.

I was back in my garden. Where I was watching Saturn all those years ago. Still listening to Marvin Gaye but now with my toddler who was colouring on a blanket on the lawn, my dog who was sunbathing near him, and my star travelling husband who I waited for so many years. I still couldn’t believe it.

Ryland appeared again with two glasses of iced coffee and handed one to me, “hang on.” He said taking it back and sipping it. “Yup that’s the decaf one.” I giggled and rested the glass on my belly. “How is she?” He questioned.

I smiled brightly and rubbed my belly. “Naughty. It feels like she’s going to come out of my ribs.” I say.

Ryland leaned over and rest his palm over my belly, gently feeling our second baby kick him. I smooth my hand over his and gently held his hand. I smiled at him. His baby blue eyes smiled back and lifted my hand to kiss the back of it. “I’ve travelled 12 light years and back for you.” He spoke, his eyes glossing over.

“And in every galaxy, in every lifetime, I’d still come back for you.”

[lov3lanuage]

World Book Day!

Eeee more Ryland for you!! Had this idea in my head since seeing someone on tiktok dressing up as the princess and the pea!

Warnings: teacher!reader, female reader, “Miss” is used, fluff fluff fluff, gets a little steamy at the end but I can’t help it!!

——————————————————-

One of your favourite days of the school year. World Book Day. Kids got to dress up as their favourite book character and do a little reading on why. Teachers got to participate this year, which was extra fun.

You’d been a middle school English teacher for about a year now, settling in down the hall from Mrs Martha James and Mr Scott Adams, who were both lovely. It was by chance that you bumped into Dr Ryland Grace. During your first week, Noah’s dad came in with his lunchbox, interrupting your little tea break in the staff room. “I’m so sorry, Miss (L/n), we were late to school as it is”, he said.

You gave him a reassuring smile and took it off him, “No problem, I’ll go give it to him now” Noah’s dad nodded and thanked you before walking back down the hallway and out past the office. You sighed to yourself. “Right, Noah, where are you?”

After searching through all your schedules and calendars, physical ones and the online ones, you couldn’t find Noah’s schedule anywhere. Hence, you poked your head into Mrs James' classes, “hi, sorry”, you said, ducking as you walked in. The kids were doing some silent reading, but all looked up at you with curious eyes. You leaned over Mrs James' desk “You don’t happen to know where Noah S. might be right now? Lunchbox delivery”

Mrs James was newly pregnant. You’d actually become good friends in the week you’d been here. She was about your age, but had a high school sweetheart, which was why she was married. She typed away on her laptop and then turned it to show you the screen. “He should be with Dr Grace. Do you know where his classroom is?” She pointed at the screen showing you. This new system confused you; your old school used something else entirely. You thought for a moment, Dr Grace? You’ve never come across him, not even in the staff room. Mrs James stood, “Kids”, she clapped. “Five more minutes of reading and then we can continue, Miss Taylor, watch them for me”, she nodded to her teaching assistant, who winked back. “Come”, she smiled.

You followed Mrs James down a few halls while she told you about Dr Grace, he’d been here a while, turns up early on a bike and leaves late, doesn’t really come to the staff room unless he’s out of sugar for his coffee, apparently the teachers think he’s either married or single, single because no ring but this is the behaviour of a married male teacher. But she gushed about him, “Oh, the kids love him! And apparently some of the ta’s, but I don’t see it? Maybe because I’m married”, she trailed off.

In the science wing, she stopped and pointed, “Second door on the left” She smiled and turned, heels clicking down the hallway. You stood still; it wasn’t like you to be nervous, but you could hear a male voice faintly through the walls. You looked over Noah’s lunchbox, stickers of Transformers littered on it. You took a deep breath and drifted towards the door; two knocks, and you opened it.

Some kids perked up, “Miss (L/n)!” They whispered. You shhh’ed them. Dr Grace was standing at the front of the class, showing a diagram of some plant cells, which was covered in projector lights, not doing you much justice.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt, Dr Grace. I have Noah’s lunchbox; his father brought it in” You smiled towards Noah, a sweet kid; he jumped up.

“Wait!”

A small green sack flew towards Noah, and he caught it surprisingly well. Dr Grace moved out from the projector lights, giving you a proper look at him. Oh, you see what these teaching assistants are on about. Dirty blonde, short stubble, glasses hanging from his ear, resting on his chin and beautiful blue eyes. He was wearing a grey suit, a duck egg blue shirt, and a red tie. He was leaning back on a table, looking right back at you.

“Noah, roughly how long does it take for the sun's light to reach Earth?”

“8 hours?” The kid said.

Dr Grace's head dropped. He chuckled, “No, toss it back, get your lunchbox” Noah tossed the sack back and left his chair with a squeak. He thanked you for his lunch box.

“Miss (L/n)”

You brought your attention back to Dr Grace, who was motioning to him, throwing you the sack. You opened your hands, and he gently tossed it to you. The kids were watching eagerly.

“Which Apollo moon mission was the first to carry a lunar rover?”

He smiled so endearingly. It’s been years since even the thought of being attracted to someone crossed your mind. You were so focused on school and teaching. Well, if you’re going to do this, may as well try to impress him. You secretly hope he is actually single and not secretly married.

“Uh, Apollo 15”, tossing back the sack, it hit in the square in the chest with an ‘oof’. With that, you winked at him and quickly waltzed out the door.

He stood there for a while, smiling to himself. He hadn’t met the new teacher, but he heard of her. Mrs James caught him in the hallway once when he was opening his classroom “Oh, Dr Grace, you really must say hello, she’s such a pretty thing” She was right.

“Wow, Miss (L/n) is smart”, whispered the kids.

Which brings you to now. You’re sitting in your car outside your apartment, double-checking that it is World Book Day. The weather is dreadful, you’ve never seen rain like this, it’s almost hailing. Your book, tucked neatly in your tote bag, is The Princess and the Pea. Dr Grace had kindly lent you his green sack as the pea. You are dressed in blue check pyjama pants, a pink princess dress with milkmaid sleeves and a tiara. You would’ve worn the dress on its own, but it’s a school. And what’s more fun than wearing pyjamas?

Oh, Dr Grace. He’s going to be soaking. You tap your steering wheel thoughtfully. You fish your phone out of your tote bag and find his contact. “Dr Grace 🧪”, he’d labelled himself as. The only message history was general questions about school days off and teachers' meetings.

“Fuck it”

You pressed call. You sat, listening to the pounding rain, as your phone rang. You wondered if this was a message from a higher-up. Don’t go to school as a princess, no other teachers will be dressed up! It whispered.

“Uh, hello?” A voice came through the phone, you jumped, and I put it to your ear.

“Oh, Dr Grace! It’s (Y/n) I was just wonde-“

“Ryland”, he said.

“I’m sorry?” God had you offended him? Was calling him like this a bit unprofessional? Did you scare him off?

“I asked you to call me Ryland, and you still call me Dr Grace”, he mused.

“Right, sorry.” You tapped your foot on the accelerator pedal of your car, hearing her hum. “Look, it’s pouring down, and I’m just down the road from you. I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up for work?” It was bold for sure.

“No, no! I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way,” he said.

Slightly deflated, you thought for a second. “Can I bribe you with coffee?”

“Deal.” He said quickly. You giggled, telling him you’d be there in 5.

Pulling up on what you think is the right road, you set your car into park and start moving your tote bag into the back seat. It was still hammering it down. Fuck. You just realised what you’d done. You were dressed as a princess, with a pea. See, when you asked Ryland for the green sack, you didn’t specify what for. You groaned and hit your forehead on the wheel. He’s so going to laugh at you.

The car door opening made you jump. And in slid Dr Grace. Who was dressed differently? He put his book bag in the footwell of your car, and you both stared at each other. He was wearing smart olive-green pants, a pale green shirt, a knitted olive jumper, and a green headband with eyes on it.

“You’re a princess?” He chuckled.

You blushed deeply and rolled your eyes. “Well, it’s better than… whatever you are!” You laughed.

He scoffed and pretended to look offended. “I’ll have you know I am a frog!”

You both laughed. “From what book?”

You watched as he reached into the footwell, rummaging through his bag for his book. He pulled it out and handed it to you. It was a book version of Disney’s The Princess and the Frog. “See, I am the frog”, he said, pointing to it.

You blushed even deeper now, peering up at him through your eyelashes. He knotted his eyebrows together in confusion, and then you watched, seeing the cogs in his brain turning. A deep flush settled on his cheeks, and you think he got it.

You were the princess. And he is the frog.

The turnout at school was better than you expected. Kids in comic book character outfits, and most teachers were dressed up this year. Before the kids settled in, you rushed in to see Mrs James. She was dressed as a tiger, a very pregnant one. Her favourite book was The Tiger That Came To Tea.

“You set me up!” You whisper-yell. She was sitting at her desk, nibbling on some toast. She was nearly crying from laughing so much.

“You’ve seen him then”, she said once calmed down, wiping her eyes.

“Seen him! Martha, I gave him a ride to school!” She belted out laughing, and now you were holding your head in your hands.

She rubbed her belly as she took in some breaths to help her stop laughing. “Listen, it’s time you did something about those longing looks”, you tutted and rolled your eyes. “I’ve seen it! He never used to come to the staff room, but now there he is! Cuddled up next to you,” She wasn’t lying.

You two often shared a sandwich or some toast during morning break, and you felt comfortable with him. He was always close, knees touching or shoulders touching. You’d always told yourself it was because the staff room was small, he didn’t have anywhere else to sit! But then he started bringing you coffee, in front of everyone, asking how many sugars, making it right in the staff room in your favourite mug, and bringing it to you with a soft smile.

The rest of the day went quickly. Kids usually can’t settle on a day like this, so teachers do small, fun tasks instead of actual work. The bell rang for the end of the day, and the room turned into a tornado of young fairies and superheroes running out the door.

“Knock knock.” Ryland was leaning in the doorway of your classroom. Halfway through the day, you realised that since picking him up, he didn’t have his bike to get home. So you could only offer to take him home.

“Ribbit”, you playfully said back. You slung your tote bag over your shoulder and faced him. He looked different. There was a look in his eye. Mischievous. More sure of himself, almost.

The ride back was filled with general work talk, how Mrs James was getting along with her pregnancy, what kids are causing you grief, etc. The rain had cleared up, but because it was winter, the sun was slowly setting.

“Listen about today”, Ryland started. Oh no, he was going to have this dreadful talk with you about how you’ve gone too far and embarrassed him, he’s married, of course, and you shouldn’t have overstepped that boundary-

“I’m sorry, " you cut him off. Focusing on parking. After you parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and looked at him. “I understand today may have crossed a professional boundary, I may have voiced a silly schoolgirl crush to Mrs James about you and totally embarrassed myself-“

“No, (Y/n)-”

“Mrs James played along and maybe pushed too far-“

“(Y/n) stop.” He took your hands in his, causing you to fall silent. You met his eyes, and he looked bashful. “I may have asked Mrs James to set this up.” Your jaw dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “How could I not, you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever met, and since working with you I’ve just….come to like you a lot more than friends.”

He whispered the last part. You were blushing deeply. This man, whom nearly every teacher’s assistant has had a crush on, has gravitated towards you. “Well”, you started. “I may or may not have a little crush on you” you blushed and looked away.

He chuckled. “Well, that’s good to know.” He squeezed your hand.

You both sat there a while. Holding hands and sharing looks. There was a slight patter of rain now, the sunset turning the sky completely orange, casting a golden light onto Ryland's face. “Can I ask you something?” He spoke.

You nodded. “Since I’m a frog”, he sat up now, pointing to himself. “And you’re a princess”, you nodded again. “I was wondering if you would be so kind as to turn me into a prince?”

You blinked. A prince? You studied his face to get any clues as to what he was talking about, and it was only when a deep flush settled on his face that it clicked. Of course. His book. In The Princess and the Frog, she has to kiss him for him to become a prince.

You leaned in towards him, your hand freeing from him and reaching towards his knitted jumper. Ryland watched with his mouth slightly open as your fingers curled around his jumper and pulled him closer.

Your lips ghosted his, and then you planted a soft kiss. It started softly at first. A small peck. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt his hand settle on your jaw, deepening the kiss. Your hand reached up and settled on the back of his neck, feeling his soft hair. You tested the waters by opening your mouth a bit more, letting his tongue in. It was slow and sloppy. He made a noise, you barely caught it, and he pulled you away.

He was a vision. His eyes were blown, deep pink settled in his cheeks, and your lipstick smudged all around his mouth. His forearm was awkwardly pressed into his lap, and you realise what the noise was about. “I need to take you on a date.” He spoke. “I can’t be doing that before I date you, " he looked out the window now, shaking his head and laughing.

You giggled and started using your thumb to wipe off the lipstick around his face “Doing what?”

“You got me a bit excited there.” His voice was now gravely.

Your heart fluttered. You didn’t dare meet his eyes; you knew exactly what he meant. It was strange hearing it from him. This charming gentleman, who flirted with you through corny science jokes, had a hard-on. And you liked it. More than you expect. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Let me take you on a date. A proper one”

“Okay, handsome, when?” You met his blue orbs with a smile. And it was his turn to blush now.

“I’ll FaceTime you later, and we can set a date?” It was more of a question; he was rummaging around in the footwell now, grabbing his books and bag. You nodded, feeling excited but slightly sad he was going.

He stepped out of the car, and you watched him wave as he walked up the steps to his apartment. You sat there with your foot on the brake, feeling like a little girl again. Before you could pull off, you saw a blur of green running around the back of the car. Ryland was standing at your window, asking you to roll it down.

You slid down the window and spoke, “What are you do-“

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with his hands and brought his lips to yours. Sparkles flew as he sloppily kissed you, hands running through your hair. You savoured him as if you couldn’t get enough.

He broke off the kiss and grinned, “Sorry, princess, I had to! I’ll phone you later for the date!” He left you nearly bright purple in the car seat. Giggling as he ran up his apartment stairs. Ryland Grace was taking you on a date. Thank you, Mrs James!!

[vivalasunday]

me waiting for those Ryland Grace x readers to come out

[lov3lanuage]

Sweetener . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Hi, this is probably my first time posting on tumblr lol! I’ve posted on ao3 before but ONE fic and seeing Ryan in phm has awakened something in me, I expected to come on tumblr and see loads of fics but I guess not maybe people have seen the movie yet so I’m taking one for the team! :) this isn’t proof read so there maybe mistakes

Warnings: reader is female presenting, reader has a tattoo, nsfw, smut duh, Ryland is a bit dom, ass slapping, unprotected, some back story at the start, hickeys, hair pulling?? I think that’s it.

Word count: 5k :)

——————————————————————————-

You had a rough relationship with Ryland, while it wasnt planned for either of you to be on Hail Mary you somehow ended up there. Ryland was charming of course, a big baby at times but something pulled in the back of your mind when you spoke. You can’t remember your relationship on earth, he was just…different.

Ryland woke up before you see, he’d taken the liberty to trash the communal area and drink all the vodka before you woke up. You remember waking up to a face above you, tears streaming down this blonde man’s face. “I thought you were dead!” he cried. You shot up, pushing him away. The blonde took his glasses off, hanging them off his ear while he wiped his tears with his sleeves. “sorry, im so sorry” he blubbered. You can’t even remember your name. “What is your name” a computer spoke from behind you.

After coming to and putting things together, you remembered. Well, bits and pieces. Ryland shared what he remembered with you, it wasn’t much. You both worked on Ava’s ship, both monitoring Ashtroohage, from what you remembered you seemed to get on well, fond memories of having coffee, on breaks looking out to the horizon while the sunset. At one point in a memory you were laughing at eachother, soaking wet on the edge of the ship running back to the main quarters.

Anyway, that was a few months ago now. After encountering Blip A, and meeting Rocky things changed. Your relationship got a bit better with Rlyand, the air wasnt tense or awkward anymore, you giggled at each others jokes. You caught yourself staring sometimes, he was endearing. You were sat in the cockpit once, he was fiddling with something on the screen and you were just looking. Every freckle on his face, his beard, his nose, your eyes even scanned down to his biceps, what the fuck he has biceps. and eventually his hands. The way his fingers worked the gearstick, gentle pressing on every button. You imagined them running over your knees towards your thighs and gently squeezing-

Focus! You shake away the thoughts with a little body shake. “You okay?” Ryland said from beside you, you nodded and gulped. He sighed rubbed his hand over his jaw, scratching his beard. The thoughts slowly creeping back in. Something in you changed that day. Seeing him around the ship was different now. He once stretched up to the ceiling to investigate something making a knocking noise and his shirt road up a smidge. His pants were hanging low and the band of his boxers were on show. You couldn’t help but look. His tanned skin was scattered with blonde hairs and a few freckles.

What you didn’t know is he caught you. He blushed deeply when he realised what you were looking at. But he couldn’t deny he hadn’t done the same. He stumbled passed the crew quarters once, he can’t remember what he was looking for because he saw something much more interesting. You. Wet and nearly naked. In a towel. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, you were rubbing a moisturising bar over your skin, taking the time to really rub it in. God, he imagined you on your back, asking him to help you, placing the bar in his hands and slowly gliding it over your brea-

He had to leave. Go and cool down in the lab.

So here we are now. Ryland was supposed to be sleeping. keyword, supposed. You, Rocky and ryland were all taking turns getting rest and finishing your respective research on why this life form Adrian is killing astrophage. Rocky agreed not to watch everyone sleep all the time but only the odd few times. Ryland was thinking of sleeping but instead he was staring at the ceiling listening to the quiet hum of human music you were showing Rocky in the lab.

“Why humans hold hand, question?”

“ummm, many reasons Rock. some kids will hold hands with their parents to feel safe, and adults in a relationship will hold hands just to feel closer” you said. He’d gotten the idea off the book you were reading to him, the cover had a picture of two people holding hands on it which you described to him.

“Understand. Rocky want to hold Adrian hand” Rocky raised his claw over his markings of Adrian, it was sweet. It melted your heart how an alien species can experience the same kind of yearing humans can. “Can Rocky ask more question? question?” He asked, standing up in his ball as if listening extra closely.

“Of course buddy” you said. Taking your feet of the table and closing the book you stood. Moving to check the little research experiment you were doing.

From down the hall Ryland was slowly moving the through Hail Mary. Wrapped in a cardigan and some plain shorts, he was tired. Didn’t get much sleep even though it was his turn, so he thought he’d go back out to the lab and join on your conversation. Ryland was nervous? he thinks? He remembers a lot more than you and what he does remember is devastating.

On the ship back on earth he had possibly the biggest crush on you, and it was mutual. You both knew you shouldn’t and keep it professional but what the hell! The Earth was dying. He remembers longing looks, sitting just that too close to eachother, flirty remarks and even you wearing his fox cardigan. He referred to you as “sweet thing” He said you were the sweetener in his life, what do you add to coffee if it’s too bitter? Sweetener.

But now it’s all gone, the memory wipe from the coma was too strong, and god he would never want to force it on you. He’d want it to happen naturally, like it did before.

“How human reproduce, question?” He stopped down the hall, just to the left of the lab when he heard Rocky ask that.

You almost spat out the last of your vodka drink. Rocky seemed to make himself smaller, his body language read as embarrassed. “Rocky can’t ask?”

“no no of course you can!” you said smiling. He was just an alien after all, maybe on Erid reproduction isn’t taboo. “um so” You tapped on the screens on Hail Mary, bringing up a diagram of a female and a male. “So the female has something called a menstrual cycle, this releases an egg, it happens about once a month” you drew your finger over the females stomach, the diagram changing to the uterus. “And then when the time is right the man and woman will have sex, the man will…” you stumbled, you had a history in biology so this shouldn’t be so difficult. “Ejaculate into the woman and hopefully one sperm reaches the egg and hooray a baby starts growing”

You explained everything else just in case Rocky was confused, what an egg was, what semen was, all the bits and bobs of the female anatomy and male. It was like teaching a school kid in the one off reproductive class.

“Obviously if you don’t want a baby then the man can wear a condom and yay sex for fun” you said closing the diagram.

“Human have sex for fun? question?” Rocky said. you sat back in your chair and swung towards him.

“Yeah, i would say most sex is for fun, not having babies with humans.” You crossed your legs, just looking at him.

“Grace and (Y/n) have fun? question?” Ryland nearly choked hearing that. If he could see your reaction right now. He heard you giggle slightly.

“No Rock, most humans have to have a connection first”

“Grace and (Y/n) have connection! Rocky observe!” Roland’s heart was nearly beating out his chest, blood rushing to his ears.

“I don’t know, i can’t remember much Rocky, don’t tell Grace but i think he is charming, definitely someone i would’ve liked to…pursue back on earth” You said.

“Rocky understand” Ryland leaned back on the ship, going over what he heard. You just admitted he was ‘charming’. His mind was boggled. Maybe you remembered? Maybe this was his chance to talk to you about your relationship back on earth. No, surely you were just being nice.

“Right, next song is fitting Rocky, it’s by a man called George Michael” Ryland heard you say.

He made the decision to round the corner, and he is so thankful he did.

You were crouched down, next to the usb drive, in some tiny short shorts and a black strappy tank top. The small of your back showing with a tiny word tattooed there. He couldn’t make it out from here because he was stuck. Stuck in place gaping at you. Somehow this was even more attractive than seeing you in the towel.

“Why Grace stare at (Y/n) question?”

He snapped back when Rocky spoke, great thanks pal he said in his head. Your head whipped round and you smiled, you didn’t get up just waved. “i thought you were sleeping” you spoke. He couldn’t see but you blushed, god of course he’s seeing me in my pyjama bottoms.

“i tried, did get a few winks but not many” He pulled up another chair next to yours, the music was still playing in the back.

“(Y/n) teaching Rocky about human nature” Rocky spoke, his ball clattering as he moved to face Ryland. “Rocky think Grace and (Y/n) should have…fun” You coughed awkwardly.

“Fun? we do have fun” Ryland said, heat creeping up his neck, he knew what Rocky meant, but he couldn’t let it show or you would figure out he was eavesdropping.

You coughed again and drank some more vodka mix, you pushed it in Rylands hand and wiped your mouth. “No! Um” you wiped your palms on your legs and gulped. “I was explaining to Rocky how some humans have….sex, for uh fun! sometimes! it feels good with the uh right person” You stumble over your words. He took a sip of the vodka and smiled.

“Wow Rocky, growing up fast aren’t we. Never thought we’d have to have the birds and the bees talk” Ryland said chuckling. God this drink was strong.

“Rocky no understand birds and bees” Rocky said flatly as he fiddled with his claws.

You and Ryland both chuckled “It’s okay pal it’s just a saying”

“Rocky observe Grace and (Y/n), Rocky think Grace and (Y/n) have more than friendship.” The air settled in the lab. The only sound was that George Michael record playing in the back. It was a statement. A big one. You only blinked, your ears turning red and hot. Ryland didn’t look at you, only Rocky.

Ryland stood and pointed towards one of Rockys tunnels “Hey now i’m awake, why don’t you get some sleep Rocky? we can watch you on the crew cameras?” Rocky stood in his ball and tapped his fingers together.

“Amaze amaze amaze, idea good Grace.” He rolled off towards his tunnel entrance around the corner, now it was just you two. You stood from your chair and leaned on the table, crossing your arms, feeling conscious you were only in shorts and a strap top. Ryland turned towards you, sensing how tense you were.

“So uh, i’m sorry i gotta ask” He started “what does your tattoo say?” He blushed, that drink must’ve been strong because where is this confidence coming from, this isn’t his style at all.

“tattoo?” You said, you pushed back on the table so you were sat on it, legs dangling off the side. The vodka has definitely hit both of you, Ryland cheeks were red and no doubt yours were the same. He moved towards you now, his knees brushing yours.

“Yeah, that little one on your back?”

Your head bent back and you laughed. “Oh you saw it” He shrugged. “That means you were looking” You pointed a finger at him, laughing. He looked at the floor and then back.

“How could i not?! anyway” he stepped forward, slowly opening your knees so he was stood between them, close but not close enough. “What does it say” He whispered.

“i am NOT telling you that, it was stupid i was 21 okay!” You kept laughing half nervous and half flirting.

He leaned down now, hands glued to his side but his mouth near your ear, “Tell me pretty girl” He whispered. God you nearly melted onto the table. Your heart was racing, out the corner of your eye on the crew cameras you saw Rocky, completely still. He was asleep. The last of the vodka was definitely hitting you, you’ve never been this confident before but hey screw it.

Taking a breath in you tilted your head so you could see him, “I won’t tell you” You whispered back. Your hands ghosted up his shorts and stomach, coming to rest on his open cardigan. You pulled slightly so he was now nearly kissing your shoulder. “But i can show you” That was the big jump. It was now or never.

You felt Ryland move, his knees locked and his shoulders slumped. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands finally moved to rest on your hips. He shook his head. “God please” It was a whisper. “You’re going to kill me, do you…even want this or is this the vodka talking?” he laughed as he pulled back, he rubbed his eye with his hand and then stayed there looking at you in disbelief.

That hurt you a bit, and i think he realised. “I mean, i do. I think the vodka just helped me but god you’re so beautiful how could i deserve you” He came back in between your knees now, looking in your eyes.

You watched in amusement as his eyes trailed down your body, from your lips, neck and down your chest. “Ryland” He met you again, blush on his face. He held his face in his hands.

“god sorry” you heard through his hands.

“Ryland, listen to me” You said, you brought your hands back up to his cardigan, pulling him closer. “Over the last, god knows how long, i’ve had memories come back.” He was listening now, a certain look in his eyes told you he knew what you were going to say. “I don’t remember it all but i remember most of…Us. i remember having a massive crush on you and wanting to sleep with you but i never got the chance” You were slightly embarrassed you were saying all this, it was mostly the vodka talking but it was all true. It was going to come out sooner or later.

Ryland was just staring at you now. Taking deep slow breaths in and out. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips. “i-“

“If you don’t want to that’s okay, i mean i just thought… we had something going there” You stumbled now, getting shy, maybe this was wrong. You jumped off the table and tried to get passed Ryland.

“Sit back down” He whispered. You peered up at him and slowly inched back until you could pull yourself back on the table. His hands reached out to settle on your knees. “i cannot think of anything else but You right now, you’re intoxicating to me it’s like i’m going crazy” He said. His head came to rest on your shoulder again and his lips grazed it. “If you want this, i’ll make sure to give you the time of your life.”

You took in a breath. He lifted his head up and you grinned. “Gunna be a big boy and kiss me then?” His eyes rolled back and he moaned. He gently grabbed your jaw with his hand and bent down to catch your lips.

He was soft at first, testing the waters. Hands slowly snaked from your jaw to rest gently on your neck. His lips were soft and warm, you tilted your head and slowly opened your mouth to invite him in. His tongue sneaked in and he moaned when your two tongues met.

He was closer now, your hips met his on the edge of the table and he held your head with his hands. You pulled away from the kiss to catch a breath. God he was stunning. His pupils were blown and his lips were plump and wet. Using his hand on your neck his fingers gently moved so he could tilt your head to the side, he ducked down and started tracing his mouth down your neck and shoulder.

“God Ryland” You moaned. He hummed in response. Your hand came up to grasp his and you slowly pushed it down till he was cupping your breast.

Moving from his hand you pushed your hand inbetween your legs to find his body. Finding the hem on his shirt your hand snaked up, feeling his soft skin. You gripped onto his back as he left purple welts down your neck, god who knew this side to him.

Coming back up to your face he stared at you with big doe eyes. His hand coming back up to rest just below your jaw. “You want this?” He said, leaning in for a quick sloppy kiss.

You were an image. Cheeks flush read, purple welts down your neck, legs open practically begging for him.

“I want you.” You spoke back.

He came in for a kiss again. This time his hands left you, you hummed wondering what he was doing and then heard something slump on the floor. He pulled away and smiled at you. He’d taken his cardigan off and now was reaching for his shorts.

You felt exposed as it is. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You’ve had sex before but not to this capacity, meaningless, lonely sex, yes. Sex with feelings? No.

You pushed yourself off the table and went to hook a finger in your shorts. “Ah ah ah” Ryland said, taking your hand.

He guided you back towards the table. “Sit” He pointed. You gulped and obliged. He was just in his boxers and top now, you could see the outline of his semi hard cock and something burned in your stomach. Ryland, the gorgeous blonde school teacher who you’ve had a crush on was about to fuck you. And he was BIG, god of course he’s big.

Your head rolled back as his stood inbetween your legs, gently pushing your back onto the table. You met the cold metal with a hiss and Rylands eyes just took you in. “So pretty for me” he whispered. His fingers hook in your shorts and he looks up at you, eyes asking for something. You understood, and as best as you can you lift your bottom off the table and let him slide your shorts down. What a day to not wear panties.

Your hands come up to your face, trying to hide the blush. Rylands hands smoothed down your legs, he was taking in all of you. You were one hell of a woman. Your hair splayed on the table, breasts spilling out your top and his eyes made his way to your wetness. His hands rested on your ankles and lifted them up so your feet were on the table.

You brought your knees together, knowing he was looking made you shy. Where’s that vodka, maybe a top up will help, you thought. “Don’t get shy on me now gorgeous” You felt him kiss one of your knees and use a hand to slowly pry them open.

His finger slowly trailed from your knee to your inner thigh, tease you thought. Everything was still for a moment until his lips started nibbling your thigh, you pushed up on your forearms to see him and he peered up at you from your thighs and chuckled when you moaned.

His tongue dragged a long stripe up your slit making you gasp. Your back arched off the table and hands flew to his head. His lips captured your bud and sucked. He had you pinned, legs splayed and back arched just moaning. He stayed like that for a while, lazily eating you out, pulling away and teasing you with kisses on your thighs every now and then.

You felt amazing, he was amazing. Your fingers were gripping his hair when you felt that familiar coil deep in your stomach, “oh god” you cried, muffled by your hand on your face. Rylands ears perked up when he heard this, using his hands he spread your thighs a bit more and brought a hand up to your slit.

You felt his fingers tease your entrance and once they’re nice and wet he’s slowly sliding one digit in. He’s looking up at you now, watching for any reaction of discomfort but instead you let out a long moan. Satisfied he focuses back on sucking, he can hear you blabbering away so he adds a second digit and you gasp again.

“Good girl so pretty for me” he kisses your thigh as his fingers work inside you. He’s unbelievably hard, probably leaking precum all over his boxers, but he wants to focus on you first. His fingers find that familiar spongy spot and he ghosts past it. You gasp and arch off the table. “There she is” He curls his fingers again something tumbles from your lips inbetween moans and he knows he’s got you.

You hands squeeze his hair as keeps stroking your soft spot. You were so hot, you could smell the sex in the room and could barely focus on anything. Your orgasm was building quickly, he knew this. You were right there, practically begging him to let you cum, he kept sucking and teasing with his fingers until you yell. You finish all over his fingers and face. Your hands fly to his and they gently push them away as sensitivity builds, you sit up as he leans back on his heels and wipes his beard with the back of his hand.

“Jesus” You say. You take him in for a moment. He’s sat on his knees, his chin glistening with your fluid and his hair pointing in every direction. He stands and you look, you can’t help it. His cock is standing at full attention now, a small patch of fluid on his boxers. When your eyes meet his he grins, his cheeks are flush and he’s sweating. He holds a hand out to you and helps you off the table, leaning down to your ear.

“Turn around” A slap on your bum makes you help as he guides you to turn around, you’re facing away from him now and knowing what he wants, you lean down to put your stomach on the table, arching your back to present yourself to him. “Divine.” He reads out your tattoo. “It says Divine and my god you are”

You giggle as he grabs a handful of your ass and he’s groaning just at the sight of you. You feel him shuffle around behind you and you gasp as you feel his head rubbing your slit. His hips jerk forward as his body is taking over, he doesn’t even know if he’ll last long.

You feel him lean down and kiss down your shoulder blades and you peer over your shoulder at him. “You okay?” He asks, you nod and poke your ass out a bit more asking him to take you. “I know sweetheart” he says.

Gazing down at your slit he’s happy with how wet your are and he guides himself in. You feel his head nudge your entrance and then slowly dip in. You moan as he gently pushes in, stretching you out. Not only was he long he was thick, you could feel every inch of him. “God Ryland” you cried. His hand took your hips and he stayed still for a moment, letting you get used to it.

Using your hips as leverage he pulls back out and then rocks back in, earning a deep moan from you. With each thrust he’s going deeper and deeper into you until he’s hitting your sweet spot. You’re a mess, practically drooling on the table blabbering moans, your eyes are screwed shut with one hand gripping the edge of the table.

“Please.” You whisper. Something snaps in him, he presses down on your back with his hands and snaps his hips up, you cry out and he thrusts again until he finds a rhythm. You feel incredible around him and he can’t hold back anymore, he thrusts into you at incredible pace. Skin slapping together and that damn record playing in the background is all he can hear now. “Fuck Ryland” you groan.

He doesn’t dare look at you, he would cum in seconds. He groans as you squeeze around him, and to think you two had been avoiding this. It’s driving him mad, thinking of all the times he could’ve had you like this.

At some point your hand comes round to reach for his, he leans over and holds your hand as he’s still thrusting into you. Your jaw is slack, and tears prick your eyes. “Fuck, right there” you cry.

He groans and goes harder. “God you’re so good, so wet for me” he lands a slap on your ass and you gasp. The steady thrusts are slowly building that familiar coil in your stomach. Still gripping his hand you look round to him.

“I’m gun- fuck I can’t-“ You splutter out. Ryland changes pace now, arching your back further and snapping quicker. Your whole body is quivering, the pleasure paralysing you. He falters and leans down to kiss your back, the angle hitting a new spot now.

You grip down on his hand as you cum, eyes screw shut as your whole body aches. Rylands pace is messy now, he’s stuttering sweet nothings, littering your back with kisses. “I’m gunna-“ he groans into your back as he cums, hips faltering as he slums on your back.

He slowly moves off you and pulls out, you grimace at the feeling, cum leaking down your leg. You slide off the table and your feet find the floor, slowly standing your legs are shaking. There’s a nice line where the table was hitting your thighs which will definitely bruise.

“Hey, you okay?” Rylands hand finds your chin and you turn to look at him. He’s completely naked, hand covering his softening cock. You nod, a bit dazed. He doesn’t like that look. Wordless, he grabs a chair and points at it, you think about fighting it but instead just sit down. You need a wet wipe or something, how much did he cum?.

He grabs his cardigan off the floor and wraps it around you. “Stay” he kisses your forehead and he’s off. Bare ass walking towards the crew quarters. You sit and wait and ponder. All this time you could’ve been having that. God damn it Stratt, if it wasn’t for her and the mind wiping coma you would’ve remembered.

Fiddling with a stray string from the cardigan you hear Ryland come back in. He’s dressed in some shorts and a T-shirt with some funny science pun on it and he has a few things in his hands, a wet cloth, bottle of water and more clothes. He sets them on the table and hands you the water.

“How are you feeling?” He crouches in front of you and looks you over, the bruise on your thighs is making him kick himself. He reaches to the table and grabs the cloth, placing in on your forehead. It was cold on your skin but amazing.

“Incredible” you say giggling. “But tired” you open the water and take a sip. The pleasure effects are slowly wearing off and the aching is taking over. He brings his hand to your face and you smile. Again without a word he rises and leaves. You blink and just stay, then you hear the shower running.

“Come on you” he says from the corner, he comes over to grab your hand and help you up, leading you towards the quarters. The shower is on and has never looked more inviting.

“I’ll leave these here” You turn and he’s placing one of his tops and boxes on your bed, ready for when you get out the shower. You take your top off and reach your hand into the shower, feeling the warmth of the water. You turn, expecting to see him but he’s almost in the doorway.

“Ryland-“

He stops. You motion for him to come back, and when he does you just fall into his arms. He squeezes you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “I think I love you” you whisper. He rubs your back and smooths your hair.

“I think I love you too” he whispers back.

“Grace and (Y/n) in love question?!”

You both burst out laughing when you hear Rocky, he’s sneaked in though his tunnel. He’s bouncing back and forth doing his little jazz hands. Ryland is covering your naked body with his own but still chuckling.

“Rocky observation was correct. Amaze amaze amaze”

“Yes Rocky well done pal, go to the lab I’ll be there now” Ryland says over his shoulder, Rocky hums and you hear him scuttle out. “Youuuu” Ryland says kissing you. “Shower and relax” you nod. God you did need it.

You smile bright af him, taking in all his features. He pecks your lips again, and again, and again before leaving you to shower.

[xruffyx]

[meteoritxs]

Bangtan Fic Rec

All of these are on ao3, they’re all shipping fics. I’ll add more as I read, these are just the ones I’ve read so far. My opinion is in italics, I only added the pairing, summary and theme of the fics, not the warnings and ratings so check those out when you’re gonna read them because some of them contain either smut, death or violence. You’ve been warned.

Fics in this list: 43.

I dream in the shape of your mouth by jonghyun | Namjin, College!AU.

Summary: Seokjin spends a lot of time in the library. Now, Namjoon does too. Taemin tries to summon Satan, and Jimin is a fuckboy.

*Jackson voice* Cute

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast by Kavbj | Taekook, College!AU, Fantasy!AU

Summary: Taehyung has magic in his veins and Jungkook’s determined not to let it kill him.

Dude. This fic is so creative and well-written… I finished it and felt empty.

beat for me (live for me)  by bakkushan | Namjin, Mafia!AU part of the offer me your deathless death series.

Summary: Namjoon’s looking at himself and then at Seokjin and all he can see is Life and Death lying next to each other under a starless sky.

I cried like a bitch with this one, painful as fuck.

All you need is love (and pink) by vppa | NamJin, Angels and Demons!AU.

Summary: Most people only have one miniature angel or devil riding on their shoulders to serve as the physical manifestation of their conscience. Poor Namjoon has five, and they’re all telling him the same thing: “fucking talk to him god dammit what the fuck is wrong with you”

Funny and sweet. I like it.

Can I Get Your Dewey Decimal Number? by melecs| NamJin, Library!AU.

Summary: Seokjin loved working at the library, but some patrons got on his nerves. Take, for example, the grown man who sat in the corner every day and leeched off of the Wi-Fi. And Seokjin worked in the children’s department.

Ah, this is… something else, for sure. Cute as hell. Funny, too.

The less I know the better by mucha | Taegi, Namjin, Fake Relationship!AU

Summary: “Together with their families, Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin… Wow, this is formal… Wait,” Hoseok squints at the paper, before looking back at Yoongi with a quizzical look on his face. “They invited you with a guest? But… You’re single, right?”

“Min Yoongi,” Jimin glares at him over the bar, crossing his arms sternly over his chest. “If you’re seeing someone and you didn’t tell us I will kick your ass, so help me god.”

“I’m not dating anyone,” Yoongi sighs, grabbing the invitation and scanning it quickly. The words “with a guest” are underlined and Yoongi can almost see it: the smugness on his brother’s face as he nods with satisfaction, putting the pencil down.

“So what does it mean?”

Yoongi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding making eye contact.

“I might’ve… invented a boyfriend,” he finally mumbles to the glass in front of him.

This is so good, amazing, incredible. Brilliant. Entertaining as hell.

Star Light, Star Bright (The Last Star I’ll See Tonight) by DreamsOfAnotherReality | Taekook, Yoonseok, Teen!AU.

Summary: Jung Kook and Taehyung fall in love the summer Hoseok goes missing.  

Hoseok just wanted to see the stars and confess to Yoongi gdi bye I’m gonna fucking kill myself.

Creating a home series by CheekyBrunette | Namjin, Foster Parents!AU

Summary: A BTS Foster Care AU

This AU is so cute and fluffy I love Domestic!Namjin

The Professor’s Family series by EquinoxSolstice | Taekook, NamJin, Family!AU

Summary: Professor Kim Namjoon is married.

He doesn’t have a wife.

They have a sort-of son.

And Jeon Jungkook just crossed paths with them.

Read this. It’s great, I promise.

The Greatest by Little_Dimples | jikook, College!AU, Sports!AU.

Summary: Person A is a hockey player person B a figure skater. Person A is told he needs more grace on the ice so he is forced to get lessons by person B. Problem is they hate each other.

Or Person A is Jungkook and Person B is Jimin.

I had so much fun reading this you don’t get it. As I was reading in class i had to hide my face because I was smiling so much. Really good fic.

400 minutes | yoonmin, School!AU.

Summary: Min Yoongi expected a lot of weird experiences to happen when he went to college, but being the roommate of his high school love who apparently “moved away for good” was not one of them.

Angsty but in a good way.

Beta Tau Sigma by bazooka | Namjin, Yoonmin, College!AU, Frat!AU.

Summary: A collection of events occurring within (and without) the walls of the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity house. At Beta Tau Sigma, there are only a few rules:

1) have a declared major in the College of Music; 2) keep your GPA above a 3.4; 3) don’t let Taehyung into the liquor cabinet; 4) don’t fuck up with Kim Seokjin. The rest is all fine print.

(Rating changed to M for sexual content in ch17.)

OKAY, THIS FIC IS THE END OF EVERYTHING FOR ME. My Favorite Fic Of All Time. Nothing is ever gonna top this for me, even House of Cards. This fic has it all, humor, angst, fluff, smut. Everything. Incredible fic. Golden fic.

cuz in a sky full of stars (I think I saw you) by wowoashley | Taekook, Namjin, Fake Relationship!AU

Summary: taehyung always has bad ideas. and jeongguk thinks this might be the best.

This is so cute and cliché but in a good way, I really love this fic.

ce monde est une têmpete by astringxnt | Taekook, Yoonmin, Namjin, College!AU

Summary: they say that one should fall in love with their eyes open, but Jungkook keeps his closed, and Taehyung is afraid that they’ll fall in all the wrong places.

the concept of strings in space time theory is that on a one dimensional plane, one only has the option of going backwards or forwards in their direction of travel. Jungkook chooses to be swept along into the unknown, with Taehyung as his only anchor.

AMAZING! I really like the plot of this one.

Safe and Sound by bazooka | Namjin, Royalty!AU.

Summary: From a tumblr prompt: Jin is a prince, and Namjoon is his bodyguard.

“You’re sort of bad at this.” “Nah. You’re safe, aren’t you?”

Prince!Jin. That’s all I have to say about this fic. Amazing.

(thought you knew) you were in this song by expplipo | Taekook, Yoonseok, Namjin, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Taehyung nearly chokes, but only nearly. Instead he raises an eyebrow and puts on the most suave smile he can manage. Hopes he looks far more collected than his for-some-reason racing heartbeat would let on, more suit-and-wine than elementary-schooler-with-a-new-crush. “You like me?”

Jeongguk blushes, and looks at his feet. He’s smiling. “Of course.”

“Really?” Taehyung says. “Like? Or like like?”

(So much for suit-and-wine.)

Nothing to say apart from it being amazing.

Common Thread by sugafree | Yoonmin, Namjin, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Red String of Fate AU where Yoongi doesn’t believe in soulmates and spends a long time trying to avoid a certain someone on the other end of his red thread.

I’m a sucker for Soulmates, but this fic is good regardless, love the way it’s written.

for you, anything by kadotas | Vmin, Yoonkook, Namjin, Marriage!AU

Summary: “Talk dirty to me,” Taehyung says lowly into Jimin’s ear, breath ghosting Jimin’s earlobe, eliciting a slight shudder from the latter.

“I’m not wearing underwear,” Jimin whispers back, pulling back to look Taehyung in the eye.

Taehyung groans gruffly at this, breaking the eye contact to lean down and nip Jimin’s jawline gently. “God yes baby that’s just-“

“I’m not wearing any underwear because you never fucking put the laundry in the fucking dryer like I’ve asked you to 100 times,” Jimin hisses, voice strained with vehemence, glaring at him and Taehyung sighs defeatedly.

(in which Taehyung and Jimin navigate through married life together, realising belatedly that it’s not always smooth sailing.)

Domestic Vmin is the best Vmin.

Let me know by TheOrgasmicSeke | Yoonmin, Yoonkook, Jikook, Yoonminkook, Namjin, Vhope, I Need U!AU, Poly!AU

Summary: Talking about it, of course, became harder as the days passed by. Yoongi could never find the right time to bring it up. He was still wondering if he was just imaging things. If he was just thinking he was feeling the things he was feeling. But that was quickly disproved every single time Jimin curled up around him and Jungkook kissed him. He was a fucking idiot in love with two bigger idiots and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Except probably ruin it by talking about it. Hell, maybe it was better to just never mention it and pretend it wasn’t happening.

So good. No other words.

Find the value of an elephant by tired angry egg (Mirabelle) | Namjin, Highschool!AU, Tutor!AU

Summary: When Kim Taehyung’s academic situation takes a turn for the worse, his mother is convinced to hire a highly recommended tutor in the hopes for a miracle that would turn her son into a conscientious student. Her eldest son, Seokjin, has a far more skeptical opinion on this entire thing, expecting it to be-lest he sugarcoat it-a complete failure. And Kim Namjoon is just really bad at making good first impressions (or second ones, or just impressions altogether).

Cute and funny.

A Sociolinguistic Analysis of Epenthesis in Academic Convergence by bazooka | Namjin, College!AU, Professor!AU

Summary: Epenthesis A phonological phenomenon in which two disparate sounds meet, creating a third sound between them which wasn’t there before.

There were a lot of jobs worse than being partnered with world-renowned Absent-Minded Professor Kim Namjoon, but Professor Kim Seokjin couldn’t think of what any of them were at the moment.

THIS! IS! SO! GOOD! Honestly, I’m in love with this fic.

The Mark of an Educated Mind by bazooka | Namjin, Metafiction.

Summary: At three o'clock in the morning after he’d been working for ten hours straight and everything he touched came out wrong and all his words were stilted and clumsy and all his music was rough and tangled… for some ungodly reason Kim Namjoon opened up a new browser window, typed bangtan sonyeondan fan fiction into the search bar, and then (god) hit enter.

No comment.

A Wonderful Institution by bazooka | Namjin, Yoonmin, Wedding Planner!AU.

Summary: Kim Seokjin is a wedding caterer. Kim Namjoon is a wedding planner.

Both of them think marriage is a societal construct with no place in modern life. Neither of them would know Real Love if it came up to them at a wedding and made a wager.

I love this fic because it’s so cute and funny to me.

Just Skin by syubology | Taegi, College!AU.

Summary: Yoongi is small and angry and 200% done with having feelings; Taehyung is Taehyung; Hoseok harasses Yoongi with petnames and Jimin ships Yoonseok. That’s basically it.

The fic that made me ship Taegi.

Pour up (Drank) by mindheist | Taekook, College!AU, Frat!AU.

Summary: If you can read this, take another shot.

LISTEN. This fic is so good it’s almost Beta Tau Sigma and that’s saying a lot because I love that fic. Anyways, the story in this one is great and it has its funny moments as well as fluffy and frustrating ones. Great fic.

Sidereal by darling | Vmin, Childhood Friends!AU.

Summary: Here we observe the Earth and the Sun in their natural habitat: each other.

This is all cute and fluffy in some parts but deep in others. Beautiful fic, I like the concept.

half a soul divided by jynxu | Minjoon, Taekook, Yoonseok, Soulmate!AU

Summary: Park Jimin has never been on a date. Nor has he had his first kiss, flirted with anyone, or fallen in love. His classmates would ridicule him and base nicknames over his distaste toward anything romantic. (Look, here comes Saint Jiminie!) Even his younger brother would make fun of him while his parents watched with pitying looks on their faces.

Nobody understood.

or: soulmate au where your soulmate’s date of death is tattooed on your wrist.

This made me cry. At school. No joke my friends were worried. Great fic, read if you want to cry.

Out of My System by xxdevilishxx | Yoonmin, Vhope, Namjin, One Night Stand!AU.

Summary: Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club.

I read this instead of studying. Really good and interesting, I like the characters.

refrigerator humming, chewing gum and instant karma by locks | Taekook, Gangster!AU, Mafia!AU.

Summary: Taehyung sets the flowers down on the dining table, plucking the card off the little holder. “Dearest Taehyung, just wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you. I hope you’re thinking about me too. Love–” he pauses and squints before cocking an eyebrow and pursing his lips. “Hyung, why is the boss of your little boy band gang professing his love for me?”

Yoongi drops the noodles on the floor with a loud curse as he burns his hand.

Or, Taehyung’s been trying his hardest to avoid Yoongi’s criminal life for a long ass time, but a cute kid and his infuriating father keep pulling him deeper into the mix.

Cute and a good read, the concept is awesome and I like the way it’s written.

House of Cards by sugamins | Taekook, Vmin, Jikook, Vminkook, Mafia!AU, Gangster!AU.

Summary: Jungkook is the heir to a mob empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. Taehyung is a rookie sent in to infiltrate by his select team and bring the empire crumbling down.

“You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated.”

Trailer. This fic. I have no words. It’s beautifully written and the plot is amazing, really interesting and just plain good. The fic to end all Mafia!AUs. Nothing is ever gonna top this for me. It’s also a long read.

Let Me In Or Let Me Down by noraebangbang | Yoonmin, A/B/O.

Summary: Yoongi hates dealing with heat cycles and suppressants and life in general. Everything is a terrible mess, and then there’s Jimin to make things a tiny bit brighter.

Now, listen, I don’t really like ABO, but this fic is so good that I wanna like it because if there are any other ABO fics like this gem then I’m in for a treat.

Kickstart series by Error401 | Yoonmin, Namjin, Vhope, Gangster!AU, Hitman!AU

Summary: Hitman!Yoongi AU.

The plot of this series is really interesting, I read it all in one sitting because I just needed more. It’s really good.

The Still Point (Of The Turning World) by inkingbrushes | Yoonseok, Reincarnation!AU, Soulmates!AU, Multiple lives!AU.

Summary: Because Yoongi doesn’t know how this started, or how this will end, but he knows this simple fact: he knows that there is a love between them that is much fiercer than the burning sun. There is that love then, and there is that love now, and surely there will be that same love the next time.

(Or: the one where they’re reincarnated over and over again and Yoongi meets a different version of Hoseok every time but Yoongi is the only one that remembers.)

Ok, this fic made me cry really hard and I’m still affected by it. It’s beautiful and sad and you should totally read it.

[yoonminfiction]

Hey! So I've been following you forever but I don't think I've ever sent an ask in before... first of all I love the blog and I wanted to thank you for so many reccomendations haha. Second, I was thinking of starting my own fic rec blog and I wanted to know if you have any pointers for me?

First of all thank you for the LOVE! ♥♥♥.  Second this is a very good ask.

Let me tell you how I started first.  I loved YoonMin from the Rookie King days, and by 2014 I was deep into the YoonMin life, I would read story after story after story.  And then it happened I came across a story I needed people to check out.  So on August 8, 2015 I posted a rec for Of Stupid Best Friends and Clueless Mate  to tell everybody about it.  For first few months I rec a few stories here and there, got a few notes.  Reblogged a couple recs for other people, I even reblogged @sugainmycoffee​  YoonMin Bingo post, till I got my bearings.  And almost two years later I am still here reccing YoonMin fics.  

 So You want to start a Fic Rec Blog.  (I am not an expert, but I will try to give some tips.)

Find the SHIP that you enjoy the most out of all your groups, shows, books, whatever.  Meaning find your no.1 ship, the one ship that rules all your other ships.  (Be it popular are not so popular.)  Because this is the ship you will spent a lot of time with, so it should be a ship you are willing to go a long way with.

Read, read, read a lot of stories for this ship.  This will help you realize what you love and what you don’t.

For your first rec try reccing something that you want to scream from the treetops about.

And after that first post, keep reccing stories that you want to scream about.

Always rec what you LOVE!   

And tag, it helps to tag.  (I didn’t do that in the beginning and now it seems too late to start.)

If you want you don’t have to just blog about stories.  You can post art, AU ideas, etc.  Just post, even if the followers don’t come or the notes don’t show, post.  Because you love it.    (Try posting once a day, or queue it.) Just post, keeping posting.

And above all.  Enjoy!

I hope this helps anon.  And good luck with your Fic Rec Blog.

[yoonminfiction]

Hi! I really love your blog, anyway do you know that one fix where jimin fake dates yoongi to convince his parents he's gay or something along those lines? All I remember from it was jihoon was Yoongi's younger brother and good friends with jimin

Hi, you are looking for a FAVORITE of mines.  It is the AWESOME When You Fall In Love All the Lines Get Blurred by jflawlwss.  Wonderful, wonderful story.