#parties

Holiday Temptations

Part One , Part Two


Warnings/Themes: Explicit sexual content (oral sex m and f receiving, squirting, protected sex, multiple rounds, messy hardcore sex, heavy dirty talk, aftercare), slow-burn tension, enemies-to-lovers vibes, flirtatious teasing/bullying (mostly from Jungkook), emotional denial, fluff with heavy pining, alcohol consumption (light), college holiday party, jealousy, forced proximity.


Word Count: ~1.8k

Pairing: Jungkook x reader



Summary: Winter break looms, and she’s determined to forget the heat of that study session with Jungkook by burying herself in denial and dorm solitude. But Mina’s invitation to a Christmas party pulls her back into the fray, complete with sexy outfits and unspoken hopes. At Mingyu’s bash, old tensions ignite when Jungkook spots her with someone else. What follows is a whirlwind of jealousy, stolen kisses, and a locked study room where boundaries shatter once more—no confessions, just raw desire and lingering what-ifs. Meanwhile, Mina makes her move on her crush, proving holiday miracles come in pairs.

—

The weeks after that disastrous night in his dorm dragged like molasses. She ignored him with a fervor that bordered on obsession—dodging his texts (he’d somehow gotten her number through the group chat), switching paths on campus, even arriving late to their literature lecture just to slip in unnoticed. The project loomed like a guillotine, but she powered through, emailing her sections with curt notes: “Attached. Review if you care.” He responded with winking emojis and “Miss you, dollface,” which she deleted without reading further.

Of course, she spilled everything to Mina the next morning over coffee in their dorm. “He… I… on his thigh,” she stammered, face buried in her hands. Mina’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

“Girl, that’s hot! But you’re avoiding him now? Why? Sounds like unfinished business.”

“Because it’s him. Jungkook. The walking red flag. It can’t happen again.”

Mina just smirked. “Famous last words.”

The day they turned in the group project was the last class before winter break—a blissful four weeks of freedom. Snow dusted the campus like powdered sugar, students buzzing with holiday plans. She had none. No family trips, no cozy reunions; her relationship with her parents was strained at best, distant at worst. The dorm would be her haven: books, Netflix, and blessed solitude.

She trudged back to the room that afternoon, kicking off her boots, only to find Mina bouncing on her bed like a kid on caffeine.

“You. Me. Christmas party next week at Mingyu’s place. We have to go!”

She blinked, dropping her bag. “Mingyu? As in, your crush since forever?”

“The one and only.” Mina grinned, waving her phone. “He invited me personally. Said to bring friends. It’s gonna be epic—lights, music, mistletoe. Come on, please?”

Hesitation hit her like a snowball. “The last party you dragged me to ended with… you know.”

Mina’s expression softened. “Jungkook? Pfft, lightning doesn’t strike twice. I’ll be your wingwoman. No drama, I promise. Just fun.”

She chewed her lip, the memory of his hands on her still too fresh. But Mina’s puppy eyes won out. “Fine. Yes.”

The first week of break crawled by in a haze of lazy mornings and online shopping sprees. Mina insisted on a mall trip for “party armor”—sexy outfits to slay the night. She tried not to care, browsing racks with feigned indifference, but deep down, a traitorous voice whispered: What if he sees you? What if you look like a gift he can’t resist unwrapping? She shoved it down, opting for a red velvet mini dress that hugged her curves, paired with thigh-high boots. “For me,” she told her reflection. Not for him.

Thursday arrived, the party night. Their dorm transformed into a glam station: music blasting from Mina’s speaker (holiday remixes with a beat), makeup scattered like confetti, outfits laid out. Mina went for gold sequins, short and shimmering, her hair in sleek waves. She chose the red dress—plunging neckline, hem skimming her thighs—smoky eyes, loose curls, a touch of shimmer on her collarbones where faint hickey scars lingered.

“Damn, we look edible,” Mina declared, snapping selfies. “Mingyu won’t know what hit him.”

She laughed, nerves bubbling. “Just pray Jungkook stays away.”

Mina winked. “Or doesn’t.”

They Ubered to Mingyu’s off-campus house—a sprawling place decked in twinkling lights, fake snow on the lawn, a massive tree visible through the windows. Music pulsed from inside, laughter spilling out as guests arrived. Mingyu greeted them at the door, tall and handsome in a ugly Christmas sweater, his eyes lighting up at Mina.

“You made it! Drinks in the kitchen. Make yourselves at home.”

Mina flushed, looping her arm through his. “Lead the way, host.”

She followed, grabbing a light punch to steady her nerves. The house was packed: bodies dancing in the living room, games in the basement, couples under mistletoe. She mingled, chatting with acquaintances, sipping slowly. No sign of him. Relief mixed with a pang she ignored.

By 9:30, she was on the dance floor, the alcohol loosening her limbs. A guy from her psych class—cute, harmless—joined her, his hands respectful on her waist as they moved to the beat. She laughed at his jokes, actually enjoying herself for once. No drama, just fun.

Then, at 10pm sharp, the door swung open. Jungkook strolled in, snowflakes melting in his dark hair, wearing a black leather jacket over a fitted sweater, jeans hugging his thighs. His eyes scanned the room—and locked on her.

Something twisted in his gut at the sight: her in that red dress, laughing with some guy’s hands on her. Jealousy? Fuck no. He wasn’t the type. But his feet moved before his brain caught up, weaving through the crowd. He grabbed her wrist mid-spin, yanking her away.

“Hey!” the guy protested, but Jungkook shot him a glare that shut him up.

She barely processed it— one second dancing, the next dragged down a hallway. “What the hell—”

The study door slammed shut behind them, lock clicking. Bookshelves lined the walls, a desk cluttered with papers, dim lamp casting golden light. He pinned her against the door, mouth crashing onto hers.

No fight. No protest. She kissed back with equal fire, hands fisting his jacket, pulling him closer. It was hunger, raw and unfiltered—tongues battling, teeth nipping, her back arching as his hands roamed her sides.

Around the same time, two rooms down, Mina had finally cornered Mingyu in a guest bedroom. Her crush since the semester started, and tonight, with liquid courage, she made her move. “I’ve been wanting this,” she whispered, pushing him onto the bed. He grinned, pulling her down with him. Clothes flew, moans muffled by kisses—two best friends getting lucky, oblivious to the storm brewing nearby.

Back in the study, she gasped as Jungkook’s lips trailed her jaw. “You asshole. Showing up late, ruining my night.”

He chuckled darkly, nipping her earlobe. “Ruining? Looks like you were waiting for me, dollface. Dancing with that loser—trying to make me jealous?”

“Fuck you,” she breathed, but her fingers dug into his hair, holding him there.

“Plan on it.” His hands slid under her dress, thumbs tracing her thighs. “Missed this. Missed you squirming for me.”

She shoved his chest half-heartedly. “I hate you.”

“Liar.” He dropped to his knees, eyes dark with intent. “Let me remind you why you don’t.”

He hiked her dress up, hooking her leg over his shoulder. Her panties—red lace, matching the dress—were soaked already. He groaned, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “So wet. For me?”

“Shut up and do something,” she hissed, hand in his hair.

He smirked, peeling the lace aside. His tongue flicked out, tasting her—slow, teasing circles around her clit. She moaned, head thunking against the door. He dove in deeper, licking broad stripes through her folds, sucking her clit with relentless precision. Fingers joined, two curling inside her, pumping in rhythm.

“Oh god—Jungkook—” Her hips bucked, grinding against his face.

He hummed, vibrations sending shocks through her. “Taste so fucking good, princess. Been dreaming about this pussy.”

Dirty words fueled her, coil tightening. He added a third finger, stretching her, tongue flicking faster. Pressure built, overwhelming—then she shattered, squirting against his mouth with a cry. He lapped it up greedily, chin glistening, eyes locked on hers.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he growled, standing to kiss her, letting her taste herself.

Panting, she pushed him back toward the desk. “My turn.”

He raised a brow. “No need, dollface. This is about you.”

But she dropped to her knees anyway, looking up through lashes. “Want to. Please.”

He cursed under his breath, unzipping his jeans. His cock sprang free—thick, veined, tip leaking. She kissed his thigh first, teasing like he had, then the tip, swirling her tongue around the head.

“Shit—” His hand tangled in her hair, gentle guide.

She took him in, inch by inch, hollowing her cheeks. Bobbing slowly at first, then faster, hand stroking the base. He groaned, hips twitching. “So good, baby. Look at you, on your knees for me. So fuckable.”

Saliva dripped, messy and hot. She hummed, taking him deeper, gagging slightly but pushing on. His grip tightened, pace quickening—but he pulled out before finishing.

“Not yet.” He hauled her up, spinning her to bend over the desk. Papers scattered. From his pocket, a condom—ripped open with teeth, rolled on swiftly.

“Ready?” he murmured, lining up.

“Yes—fuck me.”

He slammed in, bottoming out with a shared groan. “So tight. Perfect.”

The pace was brutal from the start—deep thrusts, desk creaking. His hand on her hip, the other reaching around to rub her clit. She moaned loudly, pushing back to meet him.

“Harder,” she demanded.

He obliged, pounding relentlessly. “Like that, sweetheart? Taking my cock like you were made for it.”

“Yes—oh fuck, right there!”

Sweat slicked their skin, breaths ragged. He pulled out suddenly, flipping her to face him, lifting her onto the desk. Legs around his waist, he thrust back in—deeper angle, hitting her G-spot.

“Look at me,” he growled. Eyes locked, intense. “This what you wanted? Me ruining you again?”

She clawed his back through his sweater. “Shut up and make me come.”

He laughed breathlessly, thumb on her clit, thrusts erratic. She clenched around him, orgasm crashing—walls pulsing, crying his name.

He followed, groaning deep, spilling into the condom. But he didn’t stop. Pulled out, discarded it, grabbed another from his wallet. “Round two.”

He sat in the desk chair, pulling her onto his lap—reverse cowgirl. She sank down, moaning at the fullness. Hands on her ass, guiding her bounces.

“Fuck, dollface—ride me. Show me how bad you need it.”

She did, grinding hard, circling her hips. His fingers dug in, spanking lightly. “Good girl. So fucking hot.”

Pleasure built again, faster. She leaned back against his chest, his hand slipping between her legs to rub her. “Come for me again, baby.”

She did—shaking, soaking them both. He flipped her onto the desk again, missionary now, slow and deep. Kisses turned sloppy, hands everywhere.

“Can’t get enough,” he muttered. “Your pussy’s addictive.”

“More,” she whimpered.

He delivered—faster, harder. Third orgasm hit her like a wave, squirting again faintly. He came with a curse, collapsing over her.

The clock on the wall ticked—forty minutes gone in a blur of sweat and ecstasy.

They stumbled to the attached small bed (Mingyu’s study apparently doubled as a guest nook), stripping fully. Naked, bodies tangled under a throw blanket. She traced his tattoos—the sleeve on his right arm, dragons and stars in intricate black ink. He played with her messy hair, twirling strands around his fingers.

“You okay, princess?” Soft now, almost tender.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched, charged. No confessions. Just tension, thick as ever.

He smirked faintly. “Round three later?”

She swatted his chest. “Asshole.”

But she didn’t pull away.

Outside, the party raged on. Inside, the what-ifs lingered, unspoken. Winter break had just begun.

Author note: Hii loves, merry Christmas, part three of the temptations series is my gift to you guys. I hope you all enjoy!! Let me know if yall want part four! Besitos, mwahh😽

Tags: @ellushic (hope you enjoyyyy)

wc: 8.4k

fwb!Takuma Ino x f!reader

s: Ino breaks rule one in the unofficial rule book of being friends with benefits.

Slightly suggestive + Not proof read + written at 4am when i was deliorious pls dont hate crime ty

To be “casual” with someone meant doing things that barely mattered with another. It all depends on who you ask for the exact definition of what it means to be casual with another person. But, whatever you and Ino had was not fucking casual.

Ino Takuma, the, “go with the flow let the flow take me” kinda guy. Chestnut brown hair, sickeningly sweet honey brown eyes, that stupid smile of his that shows all his teeth. Ino wasn’t popular, per se, because the concept of being “popular” was a joke, but yeah he was pretty known. It’s not hard when you’re in a frat known for the biggest parties on campus. He’s carefree in that way that he was easy to be around, but he isn’t stupid. He’s the kind of guy to only drink often when he had nothing coming up, so he never passed on the opportunity to party. Ino thrived in the type of crowd that parties brought. People letting loose, dancing joyfully, letting their inner self shine with just a few sips of that liquid courage.

Even if he wasn’t drinking at a party, he still enjoyed chatting and observing. Not even needing alcohol to be the light of the room, Ino bounced from person to person, making mindless conversation. Sometimes you wonder to yourself how a guy like him would even think about someone like you.

Those thoughts disappear whenever you’re together. Ino is sweet. He’s helpful. He’s caring. A funny, energetic, all rounder of a guy. And god was he good in bed. Strong arms and lingering stamina did wonders for a nasty activity. You had come to know this very well in the past few, around 5, months.

It all started early into your sophomore year of college, a little over a year ago. Ino was a constant in one of your classes. Having been late on the first day and having no other choice but to pick the seat beside you for the year, you two had chatted a lot. A friendship quickly grew from just seat mates to hanging out multiple days a week on and off campus. Now, Ino knew you weren’t really the party-goer type. He knew you were more of the by the book, A’s and B’s in every course, reserved type. Did that stop him from dragging you to frat houses with him? Nope.

At one of these parties he ended up dragging you to, unwilling from your side, Ino had handed you a drink.

“You’ll like it, trust me. If ya’ don’t: I’ll let you hit me all you want.”

Was all he said, followed by that stupid smile that for some reason made your stomach twist, before you started to down it. You may regret that action for the rest of your life. Each drink lessened your nerves and made you lose sight of your typical activity. Ino, being one who took a bit to get drunk, made sure you didn’t do anything to embarrass yourself or get into danger whilst you slipped further. One hand staying on or by you the whole time.

Eventually, a group of people, most you knew, were sat in a room and playing those stupid party games you thought only happened in American Highschool movies like truth or dare, spin the bottle, and seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes in heaven was really the only game you still have an inkling of memory from that night. Why? Because that’s what started this whole “fuck in our free time” relationship you and Ino share.

Whether it was because of the liquor in your system clouding your brain, or the fact he looked so great with flushed cheeks, messy hair, and hazy eyes— you’re not sure. But, it was like something took control of your body the second Ino spun the empty beer bottle and it landed on you. Pressed into the closet where no one should even be stepping into, you couldn’t control yourself.

The memory of that moment is pretty hazy. All that lingers is the feel of his lips on yours, the warmth of his hands, the shaky breaths and whispered curses between each exchange, the press of his body against yours—

and the fact you woke up in his bed the next morning. Bare and covered in marks.

No sane person would call that casual. But Ino made you dumb sometimes, so you brushed it off and just let it go. Until it happened again. And again. And then it became like a routine to let off steam. When he had a stressful day, you offered to come over— and it would always lead to the two of you entangled in bed. Whenever you broke down over classes and grades, Ino would come over to comfort— which, again, would lead to you two under the sheets.

————————————————————

You stretch your arms over your head, taking a break. You’d been studying at your desk, hunched over textbooks, for hours. With some type of physic knowledge, Ino Takuma himself just struts into your apartment like he owns the place, pushing open the door to your bedroom with no regard or second thought.

“Yo.”

As casually as he would sound just passing by. He drops a bag onto the cleared space of your dresser, pulling out a bag of chips and snacking mindlessly.

“What’ca up to? Busy?”

You blink, head turned over your shoulder to stare at him. You’ll never get used to him doing this.

“Yeah, kinda. My professor is giving us a quiz next week that I’m not ready for. Thought I could get ahead by studying before the weekend.”

“Booooo. Who studies on a Friday?”

He saunters over, propping his hip against the edge of your desk, peering down at your work.

“Wanna go out with me tonight? There’s a new bar opening downtown!”

That smile. That stupid, stupid smile. Tear bared to you, lips curved up, joy radiating from the brunette man. His eyes catch on yours, waiting. You really should stay and study, you’re not gaining anything by getting shit faced and probably ended up back at his place. But, it’s not like a few hours less is really gonna set you back? Right? Why is he so hard to say no to?

“You really just jump at any opportunity to drink?”

A sigh slips from your lips, heading turning back to your work in contemplation, then back to his warm brown eyes.

“Fine.”

It seems almost impossible for his smile to get any bigger than it was when he was asking, but now he’s just beaming. He laughs, crunching on the chips in hand.

“I’ll treat ya’ then. A reward for working hard, I suppose.”

Hours had easily passed like seconds. You and Ino spent the remaining time until you decided to leave laughing over stupid things and helping you pick out something to wear while he stayed in the black crew and black sweats he had on. You felt compelled to dress cute, unsure of why.

The two of you step into the bar together. It’s alright pretty packed, seeing as it only just opened two hours ago. Ino ran over to the bar when he noticed two seats open up, dragging you with. He orders for himself, watching you when you order after him and he opens a tab. Conversation flows easily between you two, sips and shared words. He tries your drink, comments on how it’s too sweet, laughs when your face scrunches up at the taste of his beer.

Ino watches as you stand from the stool after a while, but what seemed like a few moments.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Watch my drink.”

His eyes follow you like a magnet. He can’t tear his eyes away from the back of your head. His heart beats weirdly quick, a shaky breath slipping from his tongue unwilling. Ino purses his lips, forcing his eyes closed and downing the rest of the drink in his grip. He doesn’t understand why he’s experiencing this. Why did you have such a weird pull on the boy? Yes, he originally got close with you because he thought you were really sweet and pretty, and he was ecstatic when you agreed to keep using each other for pleasure, but he just thought he was being a stupid, horny college boy. Why is he genuinely missing you when you walk away from him for even just a moment. He’s so distracted with his thoughts that he only remembers where he is when a random girl walks over.

“Sorry, someone is sitting there—“

“You’re cute, I wanna buy you a drink.”

Huh?

The girl sitting in front of him— plopped in your seat— leans forward. Her eyes narrow, a playful smile on her glossy lips. Ino doesn’t know how to respond, normally he would just let it happen or quickly but kindly shoot them down if he didn’t feel like drinking, and still talk to them. Yet, all he wanted was for this girl to go away.

“Sorry, not interested.”

You walk back out of the bathroom, maneuvering over floor and squeezing by people to return to the boy who had been laughing with you all night. Your body felt warm, easy. And when you can see him from behind someone— oh?

There’s a girl in your seat, leaning towards him.

Why does your mood suddenly flip? Why do your fists clench and jaw go tight? Why do you want to either walk over and cut in or just walk out of the bar all together? You stare from what seems like forever, less than a minute, before she walks away. And, he pays and stands from the stool. Looking around, he spots you with a tight lipped smile. He walks to the door, saying nothing from across the room. You walk after him, stepping out into the cold air of night with him.

“Who was that?”

Shit. He didn’t realize you saw that.

Why does he care so much?

“Random girl. Wanted to buy me a drink, I guess?”

“Oh.”

You two walk side by side, a little distance between. Your heels click against the concrete, filling the awkward air. Ino can’t take it.

He spins towards you, hands reaching up to your face. He presses his lips to yours and kisses like he’s desperate, backing you up against the wall behind you. A surprised squeak leaves your lips at his suddenness. He slots his knee between your legs, pressing you into the concrete and slipping his hands down to your hips. You melt into him, arms wrapped around his neck. As you lean in to deepen the kiss— something feels wrong.

You pull away, he chases your lips before realizing. His eyes open, blinking at you and panting lightly.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that so quickly— that was stupid.”

You clench your jaw, hands falling from him.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just… not up for it tonight, I guess.”

“Let’s just get you back to your apartment.”

The train ride home is riddled with quick questions and one word answers, scrolling through phones, and pointing out how much longer there is left. When you two depart and you head inside, he finds himself starting again. What the hell is up with him?

————————————————————

“Where’s your little girlfriend?”

Who else would ask that question but Satoru Gojo, the Greek house’s president himself.

Ino is sprawled over one of the couches in the house, some random sports game playing on the TV. His head is cocked back over the armrest, uncaring of how disgusting that couch may be. Ino’s eyes are screwed shut, not sleeping just thinking. Of you.

The senior looms over him, all silky white hair and annoyingly pretty blue eyes. He holds that cocky smirk like he knows his words are a constant reminder of his teasing nature. Ino’s eyes flutter open, peering up at Gojo. He grits his teeth.

“Girlfriend? You mean y/n? It’s not like that, man.”

It pains even him to say the words, and the way Gojo raises his eyebrows like he’s both surprised and disappointed at the same time just pisses him off.

“Sure, it ain’t. Then why are you suddenly miserable? I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

Takuma rolls his eyes, watch Gojo circle around to the front of the couch. Ino moves, sitting up now so Gojo can plop down at the other end. Ino sits back against the cushions, spreading his thighs and running his hands down his face.

“I don’t know. She’s been busy.”

You’re ignoring him. He knows you are because he’s doing the same. Not a single word or text or call has been heard between you two since that night.

“Aw, lovers quarrel? How adorable.”

“I said it wasn’t like that.”

Gojo laughs at Ino’s sudden sharpness. He doesn’t believe him for a minute.

“My bad.”

Silence settles between them. An old hockey game plays over the screen of the TV they’ve had to replace multiple times. The silence isn’t awkward— it’s just too quiet. Ino’s mind is spinning. He can’t stop thinking about your face that night. Why did you look.. scared? Or was it hesitant? You’ve never been hesitant before? Maybe you have been when thinking about plans or drinking, but never about something like the shared intimate experiences? Should he ask for advice?

“Dumb question. Hypothetical. If I— or someone— were to upset another person, but they weren’t aware of what they did. One, how would this person, hypothetically, find out and apologize? And two, get the person they upset to stop ignoring them.”

Gojo turns his head to the brunette, giving him a slight “are you serious” look. The albino man sighs, leaning his head on the back of the couch.

“You messed up with her, huh? Not good, Takuma. Happy wife means happy life.”

Ino decides not to comment or even react to anything Gojo says. Which, prompts a sigh from the blue eyed freak.

“Reach out. Go see her if she’s ignoring you for a reason you’re not sure of. Either you made her mad, or she’s just not feeling the greatest. Either way, do it soon. You being all down freaks me the hell out— straight up chills, dude.”

“Haha, very funny.”

…

“You really think I should go see her?”

Gojo smirks.

“Would I ever give bad advice?”

The brunette stands from the couch, a little too quick for someone who has barely moved all day. He makes a beeline for the door and slips his shoes on carelessly. He leave the house without another word and opens his phone, checking your location.

You’re at a cafe. Not just any cafe, your favorite. The one with the really good matcha and the hot chocolate that tastes like water and pure coco powder. He catches the bus and heads straight there, sorting his emotions out on the ride.

Takuma Ino has feelings for you. It took him just six days away from you to realize this. He’s pathetically, stupidly, sweetly head over heels in love with you. How did he not see it sooner?

When the bus stops he practically sprints to the cafe. He keeps looking at his phone to make sure you haven’t moved and he can still catch you. He needs to sit with you, ask what he did wrong, apologize even if it wasn’t his fault in the matter, kiss you stupid again, actually mean it this time, and confess how badly he has fallen.

So, when he reaches the cafe, his heart sinks. And he turns around.

You’re sitting at a table by the window with a guy he recognizes from one of your Tuesday lectures. You’re sitting side by side at a booth. Your finger is tracing his palm, why are you touching him?

Takuma doesn’t get jealous. He’s only had two real relationships before, and he hasn’t been in one since the beginning of freshman year for college, before he even knew you. He never got jealous, not once. Not even when he saw his, now ex-girlfriend, making out with what he thought was his best friend. In Ino’s car, mind you. The only person who knows this about his life are his brother Nanami, and you. So here he stands, seething with a quiet rage.

You look content, and as much as it angers him… you look so pretty. Ino turns on his heel and walks away, slowly. His world feels like it’s crashing down on him, like 80% of humanity had just been wiped out. He walks back into the frat house, now empty, and goes to his room. His roommates are out. Takuma Ino, a grown man, starts to cry.

He collapses onto his bed, rolling onto his back, and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. Fat tears slip from the corners of his eyes, rolling down the sides of his face. His lips twist into a frown, embarrassed at himself for being this pathetic. He cries and cries, and eventually falls asleep.

No texts, no calls, not even a single word. You’ve been ignoring the man that you’ve unconsciously been spending every day with for months. It feels weird being around him. Like it’s so right and so sick at the same time. Your stomach flutters and your head spins and your heart races. You know how Ino’s last relationships had ended, none of them being peaceful resolutions. You’d listened to him talk about these girls who did him terribly like it was just another Wednesday. You knew how he tried to steer clear of any girl interested in him, so, thats why you felt so sick and guilty when these thoughts started popping into your brain. You two have seen the most vulnerable sides of each other— physically and mentally. Sharing deep thoughts and emotions to seeing each other bare and intimate. It’s a large scale.

You don’t want to ruin what little relationship you have with each other because of your own selfish desires, so you distance yourself from him. And, he doesn’t bother to reach out.

You continue going to classes like normal, but you don’t see him waiting at the door anymore. You continue studying, but he doesn’t barge into your apartment with snacks. With his absence comes an increase in free time. It’s driving you crazy after only two days, so at five, you decide to make plans, and at six, you proceed with them.

Meeting up with the boy you were assigned partners with on your Tuesday lectures, you relax a bit. He’s fun, easy to talk to, calm in that way that doesn’t make you think he’s judging but he’s just low maintenance. Fuck. He’s just like you.

A few more days pass. Days where you’ve cried yourself to sleep for a reason you can’t name but you have an idea of. Why do you have to be so selfish?

————————————————————

It’s 2:54 am on a Friday night when you wake up. Your eyes are puffy from earlier sobbing, limbs heavy. You’re starving.

Ending up at a nearby convenience store, you fill your arms with food and whatever your sleep-ridden mind decides is delicious in the middle of the night. The walk back to your apartments feels like it drags on forever, and even longer— almost like time starting moving in slow-mo— when you realize he is walking down the street towards you. Frozen, you can’t move. He looks so broken, like a beautiful crown that had been dropped and chipped.

He looks up from his phone when he feels eyes on him, eyes meeting yours. His go wide, blown open like the world had just cracked beneath his feet. His lips part and close a few times like he’s trying to speak but can’t get it out, and then it starts. Tears slip down his face quicker than he can react. You saw them, he knows you saw them. His hands fly to his face, and you run over to him.

“Takuma.. why are you— are you okay?”

You reach forward yet hesitant, fingers twitching to hold.

“Shit— don’t…”

He trails off when a sob gets caught in his throat, crouching with his head in his hands on the sidewalk. You panic. It’s just the two of you around under the stars. No cars, no people. Just you and the mess of the boy you’d come to know and fall in love with.

“Woah, hey. I’m sorry, did I do something..?”

You kneel down beside him, trying to look at his face. You suck it up and wrap one hand around a wrist of his, gently tugging. Ino Takuma was easygoing, energetic, humorous. The life of the party. He was not a crier.

“No, fuck, you never did anything. It’s just… you left. I didn’t know how to process you not being there, god I felt crazy.”

His voice is broken. He’s so embarrassed. Despite this, he moves his hands and lets you see his glossy eyes and tear stricken face.

“And then I saw you with a guy and I just. I shut down. I don’t know what came over me, but I felt like I was going to implode.”

You can do nothing but kneel there and listen, eyes wide and bag forgotten on the concrete.

“I didn’t know how to act knowing you were upset with me. And then I realized something I wish I hadn’t now.”

Ino rambles, swiping at his eyes, but the tears don’t stop.

“I wasn’t.. upset with you? Maybe I was a little, but that was my own stupid reason. You didn’t do anything. Please stop crying, this is so unlike you.”

Ino grabs your wrist as you reach for him again, looking straight at you. His teary, honey brown eyes, sparkling in the street lights, meet your own, lips parted.

“I love you.”

..huh?!

You blink, and blink again, trying to process. Warmth creeps up your neck, painting the tips of your ears.

“You what?”

“I love you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for months. You take up my thoughts. I can’t focus in class knowing I’ll see you later in the day, I see you in my dreams, when I’m working out, drinking, partying- fuck even Gojo has noticed.”

He hiccups, a weak sob slipping from his throat.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t like me like that. I just needed to—“

Just like that, your lips are on his. Warm and familiar. Yet, it feels different this time. It’s not quick and heated. It’s not a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s slow and meaningful, the spill of emotion. He lets his eyes flutter closed, a tear sliding down and mixing where your lips are met. You pull back, watching him.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t like you? You have literally seen me with unshaven legs, are you kidding?”

Ino’s mind is racing.

“Well.. I saw you with a guy at your cafe the other day. So, I thought…”

A laugh falls from my lips, hearty and real.

“Oh, oh my god, no. He’s a random guy from my class, we got paired up. He likes men. We bonded over those palm readings and I was trying to do one.”

And here’s where the embarrassment comes back at Ino in full force, because here he is crying at 3 am in the middle of the sidewalk over an issue that would’ve been solved had he just texted.

“So.. you like me?”

The blush that creeps on your face is down-right addicting. Ino has seen you desperate, he’s seen you bare and vulnerable, he’s seen you cry of pleasure and sometimes of pain over something old. But, he’s never seen you blush like this.

“I do.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Like really-“

“For the love of god, yes. I like you, Ino.”

He shuts up, a smile raising on his lips.

“And you’re not turned off by the fact I’m crying?”

“Nah, you’re hot when you look pathetic.”

Welp okay then. Ino wipes his eyes and stands back up, sniffling. His eyes are now red and glossy, a bit puffy from breaking down. You follow him up, watching for a moment. When he moves his hands away to watch you, he smiles this time.

The smile that makes you crazy— full teeth and radiating joy.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Ino’s voice is quiet now, a whisper, like anything louder will break the gentle atmosphere between you two and the newly shared confessions of shared love.

“I don’t know, will you start crying again?”

“…no.”

“Will you take me out and confess to me properly?”

“Yes.”

A final smile spreads over your lips as you step forward, slipping your arms around his neck. It’s not perfect. This whole relationship leading to now. The internal back and forth of “what are we” and “is there more to this relationship then just fuck-buddies”. But, you knew going into anything with Ino Takuma that it would be messy, difficult, but so much fun. And now, you get to explore even more with each other. This time as something serious, because fuck being “casual”. Casual isn’t something Ino does.

“Then, yes. You can kiss me.”