#about my own OC. for the second time today. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jensthwa · 4 months ago

Text

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before.

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much.

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions.

The main one being: What the fuck did you do?

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess.

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears.

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it.

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back.

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions.

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal:

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn.

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him.

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool.

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back.

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out.

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you.

Yeah, you'll figure it out.

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you.

You are fucked.

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon.

“Mingi is driving you, right?”

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation.

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.”

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?”

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?”

“R-right.”

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink.

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath.

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.”

“You made it, dear.”

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!”

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face.

Maybe not the smartest option.

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you.

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love?

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well.

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization.

The casual texting annoys you.

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either!

Oh, maybe that's why.

But it ticks you off either way.

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today?

It doesn't make any sense.

You hit send.

> gi: aaaaand? > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed.

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf > gi: my butt is all bruised. > gi: kiss it better?

Oh.

Not casual texting. At. All.

Or maybe it is?

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer.

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late.

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being.

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday.

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way.

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day.

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget.

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's.

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue.

God damnit, Y/N, get it together.

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door.

“You do know how to change a tire, son?”

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile.

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.”

“And make sure to—”

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?”

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even.

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning.

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it.

“I was just making sure that he—”

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well.

“Alright. Love you, take care!”

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval.

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief.

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?”

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.”

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door.

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now.

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.”

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.”

“You can help me with that.”

“Can I now?”

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.”

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation.

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.”

A bit of silence passes within the both of you.

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.”

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place.

Nothing has changed.

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing.

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door.

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in.

“You made it!”

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.”

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?”

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.”

If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—”

“Mingi!”

What the hell is she doing here?

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe?

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men.

Right now? She's your worst nightmare.

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away.

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid.

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised.

“Well fuck me, am I right?”

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.”

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away.

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.”

“You can't possibly know that.”

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.”

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same.

“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.”

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri.

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.”

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting.

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.”

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh.

“We're just friends now!”

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—”

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him.

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening.

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend.

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you.

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts.

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before.

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you?

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there.

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!”

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!”

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask.

“Who is sh—”

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?”

Huh?!

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped.

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—”

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.”

Great, that didn't work either.

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?”

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.”

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.”

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.”

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this.

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh.

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool.

“Sure thing.”

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move.

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi.

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out.

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe.

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs.

When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you.

“What the fuck, Mingi?”

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror.

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?”

“People usually knock!”

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax.

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so.

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back.

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck.

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.”

You let out a sigh.

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?”

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.”

“Cool.”

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror.

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.”

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance.

“I’m sure you did, buddy.”

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising.

“What's so amusing?”

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?”

He's such a guy sometimes.

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—”

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.”

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.”

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance.

He keeps his mouth shut.

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—”

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.”

“Mingi, don't say that!”

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—”

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.”

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason.

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!”

“You don't even know her name, love.”

“That's not the fucking point!”

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words.

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy.

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense.

You hate it.

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment.

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings.

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you.

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight.

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.”

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs.

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing.

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—”

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.”

“Did something happen or…?”

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks.

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away.

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means.

“Ye—”

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.”

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder.

Immature. Petty. Rude.

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset.

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again.

As he should be.

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street.

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is.

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step.

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.”

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head.

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating.

He's angry. Shit.

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it.

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff.

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road.

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment.

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything.

“You shouldn't have bothered.”

“I am bothered. You bothered me.”

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?”

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!”

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.”

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support.

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car.

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance.

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation.

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.”

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short.

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.”

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.”

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up.

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line.

“Well, she's a friendly girl!”

“She didn't even say hi to me!”

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!”

What?

“W-what?”

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!”

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.”

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.”

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi.

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you.

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back.

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—”

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.”

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it.

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you.

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right.

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it.

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…”

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.”

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.”

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.”

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?”

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—”

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later.

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold.

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving.

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop.

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for.

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made.

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again.

“This goddamn dress, love.”

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?”

“Been thinking about it all day…”

“It worked, by the way.”

“Woo?”

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.”

“And Jongho?”

“Probably plotting against me right now.”

He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.”

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick.

“Worked on you, too.”

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.”

“Oh?”

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience.

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.”

This is it.

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again.

“I love you, Mingi.”

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too.

You kiss him until it hurts.

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more.

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time.

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands.

And then it doesn't.

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way.

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist.

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms.

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so.

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?”

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit.

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again.

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question.

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?”

“Fuck, Mingi…”

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right.

“Y-yes.”

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.”

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away.

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?”

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.”

“Mingi…”

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—”

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—”

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.”

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips.

What a tease.

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease.

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit.

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second.

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high.

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close.

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth.

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does.

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly.

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?”

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.”

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?”

“You don't have to, love.”

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.”

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods.

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it.

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting.

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it.

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car.

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.”

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier.

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again.

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand.

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor.

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable.

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth.

“Condom. Now.”

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.”

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!”

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…”

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously.

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…”

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago.

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling.

“Baby… Harder.”

“Yeah?”

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break.

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours.

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge.

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well.

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple.

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns.

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.”

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does.

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there.

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you.

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?”

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?”

“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.”

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.”

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.”

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.”

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.”

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.”

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended.

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out.

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents.

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason.

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you.

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways.

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions.

But everyone seems unaffected by it.

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.”

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on.

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff.

“And no one told us?!”

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust.

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.”

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.”

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile.

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh?

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?”

“I’m sure Mingi did—”

“Wooyoung!”

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all.

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.”

“Am not!”

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops.

There's some story there you don't know.

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.”

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts.

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter.

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away.

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.”

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night.

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis.

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him.

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all.

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes.

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.”

You smile “Well, she's right.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off.

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth.

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips.

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!”

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

#ateez #ateez x reader #song mingi #song mingi x reader #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard hours #AAAAAAAAAAAA i don't think this is as good as the first part was but i hope you enjoy it ! let me know #askbox is open as usual <3 thanks!#fic; s&t

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sparklingchim · 4 months ago

Text

you're losing me 03 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, spit kink 👉🏼👈🏼, oc is horny for her man 😋☝️, dirty talk, implied shower sex!! teasing, her dad is a meanie </3, but jk lowkey too :') ... but he's saur sweet as well 🥺 ugh!!, jk's niece yumi is the cutest ever <3, oc feeling sad/lonely/neglected/not loved enough, u know just the usual :')

summary: probing questions and rising tensions cloud the family dinner.

a/n: she posted !!!! 🫢 are u proud of me !! 🫂

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Something tickles your back.

You roll over on your side, mumbling incoherent words.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re having a bad dream?”

You nod against the pillow. You don’t remember much now that you’re awake, but the dream left you feeling upset.

He pulls your body to his, keeping a safe arm around you.

“You’re okay now?” His knuckles trace softly over your cheek.

Fluttering your eyes open, you turn your head to him. “What time is it?”

“Just past six.” Jungkook pulls up the strap of your lacy nightgown. “Gotta get up for work soon.”

“No.” You hug his chest. “They won’t care if you go in a little later.”

A faint smile curves his mouth. “But I care,” he says. “The company doesn’t work without me.”

You frown and dig your pointer finger to your chest. “Me too.”

Jungkook catches your finger and intertwines his hand with yours. “I’ll be back early today,” he promises.

And while you’d usually be excited about it, you’re a bit frustrated that he’s only promising it because you’re having a family dinner at your place this evening.

“Dad would be upset if you show up late.”

“I know. He’s been watching my every step these days.”

Your dad once trusted Jungkook without question, but now he seems to be keeping a closer eye on him. You remember the day you told your dad about dating Jungkook. His expression had softened, a rare sign of pride. Though you knew it wasn’t because he was happy his daughter found a loving partner. Still, you tried to absorb any positive attention from him, recognizing that his approval was more about how the relationship could benefit him.

Your father has always been more interested in what you create or gain and how it can serve his interests.

“Is he upset with you?” you ask. Brows furrowing as you think about your own question.

“Not yet. But he’s still eager for a partnership between our companies and wants to launch a joint venture.”

You pull a face, groan a little. “Don’t tell me more. I don’t want any knowledge of this, so my father can use me to get what he wants from you.”

“He shouldn’t dare.” A stern look crosses his face. “I won’t let him drag you into it.”

But just because you’re curious and way too nosy, you ask one more question. “What do you have that he does not?”

“I have more connections than he does,” Jungkook says. One corner of his mouth slightly pulling upward. “Your father can be ruthless, but people like working with me. I’m way nicer than he is.”

“You are?” you question with a teasing lilt to your voice. You drag your finger across his chest. “Then be nice and spend some time with me before you go to work.” Your finger travels down his abs, stops at his boxer briefs. An amused smile blooms on his face as he watches you innocently bat your eyelashes at him.

With a playful grin, unable to resist you, he leans in closer. His hands find your waist. As your back sinks into the plush mattress underneath, you feel his weight pressing against you. His lips capture yours in a deep, lingering kiss, and you can feel the heat between you both rising.

He pushes your silky nightgown up your tummy, continuing his kisses on your neck to your chest and then your ribs and your belly button. Little, satisfied moans leave your mouth.

“Spread your legs for me,” he whispers against your skin. With his hands on your thighs, he gets comfortable on his tummy.

“I didn’t even get to tell you about the exciting new offer I got yesterday.”

“Tell me, love,” he says softly, continuing to peck your exposed skin. His breath tickles your thigh.

“Dasom called and told me Calvin Klein wants me as an ambassador,” you explain. The same joy floods your tummy as when your manager told you about the news, but maybe it’s Jungkook’s mouth teasing you on your inner thighs.

“That’s exciting.” His thumb rubs over your ribs in appreciation. “You’ve been wanting to work with them for so long.”

“I know! But you know what’s even more fun?” Your voice drowns in excitement, eyes sparking with enthusiasm as you look down at Jungkook between your legs.

He licks a stripe up your clothed pussy. Your inhale shakily.

“Jungkook.” You tug at his hair to make him look at you. “Are you listening?”

“I am listening.” He keeps looking at you while he tugs your panties to the side. “Go on,” he tells you, sucking on your clit right after.

Your back arches. A surprised moan bubbles from your throat.

“They- they want us two to do a shoot together,” you utter between heavy breaths. “Said it would be great for their new campaign. They love our chemistry."

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s eyes lock onto yours, and you suddenly find it hard to hold his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the sheets between you.

“They thought about an underwear shoot, but we could do whatever we’re comfortable with.” Your tummy clenches when Jungkook adds two fingers. “They just- Jungkook, fuck.” He curls his fingers and grazes your sweet spot, pleasure jolting throughout your entire body. “They just really want us both for their campaign.”

Your fingers tug at his messy hair, hips moving against his face.

“What do – what do you think?” You bite your lip. Just a little bit more and you’re cumming.

His mouth leaves your clit. You whine at the loss. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.”

“You’d be okay with it?”

“Yeah.” He gives your pussy little kisses, trailing upwards to give your tummy a few too.

You impatiently push his head back between your legs. “Please, finish what you started.”

Jungkook hums in satisfaction. “So well behaved. That’s my good girl.” His tongue glides over your clit while his fingers move at a languid pace.

“Remember the perfume ad?” you ask, eyes slowly closing as he continues to torture your swollen nub with his tongue. “They only saw your back in the video and loved it so much. They’ll... they’ll die seeing this campaign.”

His left hand travels up your body, vanishing underneath the soft fabric that just barely covers your chest. “Do you have a date?” he asks, mouth full. He makes you feel dizzy.

“No-uh – oh.” You gasp when he pinches your pebbled nipple. “Not soon, though. Sometime next year, I think.”

“Sounds good.” His fingers are deep inside you. Wet noises fill the room and you want to cum so badly.

“Faster, please.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers, heat spreading over your entire body.

Jungkook looks so hot between your thighs. Eating you out with his skilled mouth, his cheeks flush a dusty pink as he watches your gentle reactions through his still sleep-laden eyes

“Jungkook.” The creases around his eyes soften when he hears you moan his name in a meek, lewd way. He can feel you being so close to coming undone, and he’s eager to see you writhe for him, make a little mess.

“Gonna cum for me, love?” The way he asks is so sweet that you nod eagerly You don’t ever deny him anything, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to slip between breathy moans. “Wanna cum for you.”

When the pleasure finally hits its peak and you’re so full with it, your thighs begin to tremble around his face and your head sinks into the pillow. Jungkook’s tongue continues to swipe over your sensitive clit and you whimper, pushing him away.

“Felt so good, didn’t it?” He withdraws his fingers from your clenching walls and runs his thumb over your wet, creamy pussy. He licks them clean and you swallow. He’s so irresistibly attractive it leaves you feeling light-headed.

Rising from his spot between your legs, he holds your face. His fingers dig into your cheeks. “Open your mouth.” When you do, he spits in your mouth and you swallow the mixture of your arousal combined with his spit.

“So good,” he murmurs, patting your head. “I’ll go take a shower.”

You throw your arms around his little waist. “No, stay a little more.”

“I have to leave soon, love.”

His semi is poking your tummy through his briefs and you wriggle around a little just to show him what he’s missing out on.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. “Join me in the shower?”

You giggle, tugging at his hair to kiss him on the lips. “Fine.”

As he walks towards the bathroom, you take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed, your nightgown falling back over your body, feeling the lingering warmth of his body. You hear the sound of the shower turning on, and the steam starts to drift out into the bedroom.

Before joining him, you decide to select today’s perfumes for the both of you. You pause in front of the vanity, eyeing your collection with a silly excitement.

Chanel Chance Eau Tendre? Delightful and light, but not today. Marc Jacobs Daisy? Sweet and floral. Maison Francis Kurkdijan Baccarat Rouge 540? A favourite, but it doesn’t feel right for the moment. Gucci Bloom? Tempting with its fresh notes.

Finally, you settle on Dior J’adore – you’re just obsessed with Dior scents.

Moving along the row of Jungkook’s fragrances, your finger dances over each bottle, contemplating.

Creed Aventus? A bit too fruity. Tom Ford Oud Wood? Very exotic. Dior Sauvage? Immediate skip. Bleu de Chanel? Elegant but maybe another day.

You pause at Tom Ford Amber Absolute. That exotic scent – ugh, you’ve never liked it at all. Jungkook used to wear it occasionally until he noticed your distaste and stopped.

At last, your finger lands on Yves Saint Laurent La Nuit de l’Homme. You love the cedarwood and vetiver smell in this one. Perfect.

With a satisfied smile, you set the chosen bottles on the counter.

“Love?” Jungkook calls from the bathroom.

“’m coming!”

You’ve successfully avoided your father all evening, managing to stay out of his way whenever possible.

You know he’s itching to discuss the incident from a few weeks ago when you were seen at your gynaecologist. He loves prying into your life and demanding answers, a way of “checking up” on his youngest daughter that feels more intrusive than caring.

So, as he’s deep in conversation with Jungkook’s brother and dad, you seize the opportunity to slip out of the living room. You're in search of Jungkook, who left a few minutes ago, and you could really use his comforting presence.

As you move quietly through the house, you hear voices coming from the dining room. You pause at the doorway and catch Jungkook’s mum ask in a hushed tone, “Is the same happening as with Eunji?”

“No. Everything is fine,” Jungkook reassures her.

“I don’t want to witness something similar again,” she expresses, clearly distressed.

Jungkook’s soothing voice replies, “There is nothing for you to worry. I promise.”

Your tummy knots with unease.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the mention of Jungkook’s ex-wife only heightens your discomfort.

You’re desperate to know why his mother is mentioned Eunji and what the conversation is about, but you decide to ask Jungkook later, in a subtle manner.

With your eyes fixated to the floor and thoughts muddled, you enter the kitchen. Sunhee, the chef who has been part of your family since you were little, is preparing dinner for you tonight.

“Who was the cause of that sad face, my dear?” Sunhee asks, worry crinkling her forehead while she puts the food on the plates.

“I’m not sad,” you deny, leaning against the counter. “Not yet, at least.”

“Why are you anticipating becoming sad? That’s not a good thing to do,” Sunhee says, shaking her head in disapproval. “Who are you hiding from?”

She knows you so well. Ever since Sunhee became your family’s chef, it’s been your habit to hide in the kitchen when the atmosphere at home became too overwhelming for you. When your father was angry or your parents argued, you’d slip into the kitchen, and Sunhee would lift you onto the counter to watch her cook.

You used to just hide in your room, but you found that life was easier to bear when you didn’t have to carry all the sadness alone. When you were ready to face the world again, Sunhee would slip sweets into your hands. You mum hated treats before dinner and never allowed them, so this became your little secret with Sunhee.

It might seem trivial, but those moments meant the world to you when you were a little girl.

“My dad,” you huff. “He’s been unbearable since...the pictures.”

Sunhee gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear that, dear. I know how tiring his behaviour can be.”

“He’s like someone straight out of the gossip rags.”

Sunhee chuckles softly. “He does have a flair for drama, doesn’t he? But you shouldn’t let it get to you. You’ve always been good at handling him.”

“It’s just exhausting.”

She pats your hand gently. “Don’t let him bring you down. Remember, this kitchen is your sanctuary.” The little anxious ball in your tummy fades with each comforting word Sunhee speaks. “Dinner will be ready shortly. You can sit down in the dining room. I’ll let everyone know.”

“I’ll do that for you,” you offer, and leave the kitchen.

Heading to the living room, you announce, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Have you seen Yumi?” Jungkook’s brother asks, referring to his four-year-old daughter.

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen her,” you answer and he immediately gets up. She must be up to no good if she’s been unsupervised for longer than ten minutes.

“Yumi! Where are you?” Jungkook’s brother calls in the hallway. “Dinner’s ready!”

Loud, hectic thumps erupt from upstairs.

“When did she get up there?” you ask puzzled.

Jungkook and his mother emerge from the dining room.

“What happened?” he asks.

Before anyone can respond, Yumi’s usual small pitter-patter of footsteps becomes a series of high-pitched clatters. She appears at the top of the stairs, dressed up in your clothes.

“Oh, God,” her dad utters.

“She found ___ closet.” An endeared smile crinkles Jungkook’s eyes.

Yumi proudly walks down the stairs in your Louboutins, a hand on the rail to keep her from tumbling. Jungkook rushes towards her, keeping a safe hand on her shoulder.

“___!” she exclaims, her wide smile puffing her cheeks. She’s wearing your soft pink corset from Dior and your mini skirt from Giambattista Valli’s vintage collection over her own dress.

“Had fun in my wardrobe?” You laugh as she nods vigorously.

“You have soo many clothes!” she says, eyes turning big. “And everything is sparkly!” She turns to her dad. “Daddy, I want a sparkly bag like dis too!” Yumi shoves your Prada clutch up in the air.

Jungkook’s brother emits a strained sigh, although a tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you have a sparkly bag?”

Yumi frowns. “Not dis sparkly.” She points her hand at the bag for emphasis.

You giggle. Yumi was raised right. The sparklier the better.

“I hope you didn’t leave a mess in there,” he warns her.

“Daddy, the bag!” she yells, ignoring his words to avoid trouble, dangling it in the air.

Her dad ushers her into the dining room.

“Who made the bag? I’ll just buy her the same one,” he whispers in your ear.

“It’s a vintage Prada clutch from the fall/winter 2015 collection,” you answer, a confused pout gracing your face. “It’s no longer available for purchase.”

His eyes widen. He watches his daughter climb onto the chair with Jungkook’s assistance, the crystal embellished clutch sitting on the decked table near drinks and food that could spill onto it.

“Then we better take care of it.” He rushes to the table and places it somewhere safer.

As everyone settles into their seats for dinner, Jungkook’s brother breaks the silence, “Hyein was so upset she would miss out on Sunhee’s food.” His wife is pregnant and felt sick today, so she couldn’t come.

“How far along is she?” your mother asks.

“Just entered the third trimester.”

“I’m getting a baby brother!” Yumi exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.

Jungkook pats her hair and falls into a quiet conversation with her.

“We’re very excited, but she’s been having a rough time lately.”

“Well, I hope she feels better soon,” your father says, his tone temporarily softening. “Take good care of her.”

As the conversation continues with lighter topics, you feel a momentary relief. But soon enough, you feel your father’s gaze shift back to you, a familiar sense of scrutiny returning.

“I wonder when it’ll be time for my daughters,” he says pointedly.

It’s funny he is using the plural form, given that, as far as you know, he never brings up this topic with your older sister, Jinah.

“I think we’ve talked about this last week,” you answer monotonous, eyes set on the plate before you.

“With you I’m just wondering whether I would receive the news from you personally or wake up to headlines telling me,” he says.

Your father called you as soon as the pictures were released, as hungry for answers as the press. Even accused you of hiring the paparazzi yourself when you told him you had merely gone to a check-up and assured him you weren’t pregnant; Jungkook was just comforting you after a rough day.

You used to pull a lot of silly stunts as a teenager to get your father’s attention. But staging a scene for the paparazzi, crying in your husband’s arms over a pregnancy scare, would be the last thing you’d do to get him to check up on you.

You did have your share of attention-seeking antics, like being spotted leaving the club with the son of your father’s rival company, stealing his jet or throwing lavish parties and inviting a mix of celebrities and socialites when your father was away on a trip.

“Didn’t Jinah talk about wanting babies in an interview? Ask her for grandchildren.”

Tilting his head, your father gives you a disapproving glance. “She’s busy with her law firm, don’t you think?”

The table falls silent, with only the faint sound of your breath as you open your lips to speak. Before you can respond, Jungkook steps in to answer for you.

“___ is quite busy herself – launching her clothing brand soon, starting the filming of her first drama, handling the countless photoshoots she has weekly.” Jungkook subtly places his hand on your bare thigh, the comforting press of his wedding band against your skin.

Your father’s features soften as he shifts his gaze to Jungkook. It still saddens you a bit that he seems to approve of everyone but you – it haunts you in the middle of the night, knowing that all you ever wanted as a child was to feel deserving of one of his approving smiles.

“I know she’s busy. It irks me what she keeps herself busy with.”

Jungkook is about to respond, but his mother steps in. “Your acting debut? Oh, I’m so excited.”

Jungkook’s hand slides to your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t take it to heart.

You remind yourself that you’ve long since stopped letting these comments get under your skin. Yet, a part of you – the little girl still longing for approval – feels a pang of sadness that won’t quiet fade.

As the conversation shifts, you find yourself staring at your plate, pushing the food around with your fork. The weight of your father’s disapproval feels heavier than ever. The rest of the meal passes in a blur of small talk and clinking utensils. You laugh at the right moments, nod when expected, but your mind drifts elsewhere. Eventually, the plates are cleared, and everyone begins to disperse.

“We should get going. It’s been a long day, and Hyein is alone at home.”

Yumi tugs at her dad’s sleeve, her eyes wide and hopeful. She glances over at you and Jungkook, then looks down shyly.

“What is it, Yumi?” her dad asks, crouching down to her level.

She whispers something in his ear, and he chuckles. “She wants to ask you guys something.”

You smile, kneeling down.

“Can we have a sleepover?” Yumi asks, her voice small and tentative. “Please?”

Jungkook grins and looks at you for confirmation. You nod saying, “Of course, you can. We’d love to have you.”

“Yay!” Yumi exclaims, jumping up and down excitedly. She rushes over to hug both you and Jungkook tightly.

As everyone gathers their things, your father watches you intently. His expression is hard to read, and for a moment, it seems like he might say something. But he quickly looks away, the familiar disapproval etched into his features.

You expected nothing less from him.

“Is Uncle Jungkook not playing dress up with us?” Yumi asks as she looks through the dress section of your closet.

“I’ll look for him, yeah?”

Stepping out of your walk-in closet and your bedroom, you walk down the hallway.

“Jungkook?” You hear his voice coming closer, and soon spot him walking briskly in your direction.

“Jungkook,” you call, trying to grab his bicep but he continues walking, and your fingers merely graze his arm. “Yumi wants to play before going to bed.”

Only when he turns around do you see him pressing his phone against his ear. Jungkook puts his pointer finger against his mouth and shushes you before he walks off in the direction of his office.

A startled laugh escapes your mouth.

As soon as your family left, his focus shifted back to his work. His excuse about being on the phone felt like a dagger, leaving you feeling disregarded and lonely – emotions you have been feeling too much lately, it’s starting to become a familiar ache in your chest, a constant reminder of the growing distance between you.

Watching Jungkook retreat to his office, you couldn’t help but wonder when it became so easy for him to prioritise work over your presence.

You turn back towards the bedroom and find Yumi standing by your open jewellery drawer, probably drawn by the bright, sparkly gems.

“Uncle Jungkook has some work to do,” you tell her.

Yumi just nods, staring at all the shimmery things in front of her. When she hears you sigh, she looks up at you, her little heart immediately sensing your change in mood.

“Are you sad?” Yumi asks, dragging her little finger over all your accessories, searching for the ones that shine the most.

“I think so,” you admit.

“Was someone mean to you?” She grabs a diamond necklace.

“A little, yeah.” You cross your arms, holding back the annoyed sigh.

Jungkook didn’t mean to make you feel upset. That would never be his intention. But you’re a sensitive person. And you’re his wife, so he should know better.

“My mommy always says when someone is mean to me to never be mean back to them, because – because that shows you are an ugly person.” She fiddles with your necklace.

“And we don’t want to be an ugly person, right?”

“No-uh.” She shakes her head, her little pigtails bouncing. “I wanna be pretty,” she says and holds the shiny necklace against her neck while looking at herself in the full-length mirror. “Where did you get this one from?”

Yumi’s second favourite game, after dress-up, is asking about the designers of your clothes and jewellery.

“It’s a Harry Winston piece. Uncle Jungkook gifted it to me,” you tell her.

“Really?” Her eyes widen. “He buys you so many sparkly things! Like that!” She points to your wedding ring. “Uncle Jungkook must love you so much. But – but he married you. So he has to.”

You help her put on the necklace. “What, you can’t love someone when you’re not married?”

Yumi shakes her head and giggles. “Noo, of course you can, silly. But you only get married when you know you will love them forever and ever.”

“You think Uncle Jungkook will love me forever?” You just feel slightly foolish for asking a child for reassurance.

She turns to you. A confused pout adorns her little face. It reminds you a bit of yourself.

“You don’t buy someone sparkly things when you don’t love them forever.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that so?” You grab her hand. “Come on, little girl. I got a few unopened gifts from designers I know you will love.”

Yumi squeals excitedly and follows you.

Sometime past midnight, Jungkook steps into the bedroom.

You lie in bed with your back to him. You were scrolling mindlessly on your phone – online shopping a little until Jungkook would come to bed, using his card just because. You put Yumi to bed in your guest bedroom hours ago.

“Jaehyun’s gala is in Italy next week,” he says, putting his phone on his bedside table. “You’re coming with me, right?”

You glance over your shoulder and glare at him a little. “No. Don’t wanna go all the way there just for a gala.” You hate flying. And flying to Italy to just stay there for a couple hours does not sound like something you want to do.

“We could have a little vacation for a few days.”

You tilt your head, watching him intently as if he’s setting you a trap. “How many days are we talking?” You sit up.

He ponders, probably going through his schedule in his mind. “Three days. At least.”

You sigh dramatically, though your chest feels giddy. “Fine. I’ll come. But I decide what we’re going to do every day.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “But I already know what you want to do anyway.” A little smirk dances on his lips.

“Oh, do you now?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he replies, eyes shining. “You’ll want to visit the Uffizi Gallery first, lose yourself in all that Renaissance art. Then, there’s the Pinacoteca di Brera because you’re in love with those masterpieces. Shopping at Via Montenapoleone is a given, of course.”

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably.

“You probably want to go to the Amalfi Coast too. You love the view and the town. And then dinner at La Pergola – you've been craving their dishes ever since the last time we went.” He sits down the edge of the bed, watching you with expectant eyes.

You shake your head at him. “You really do know me too well.”

His dimples appear. “Told you.” He looks so pleased with himself. “See? I like you way better like this.” Jungkook gently traces the curve of your smile with the pad of his finger. “And not when you’re glaring at me.”

“Then be nicer to me,” you huff.

His fingers hold your chin and his mouth meets yours. He kisses you so softly and you melt against him.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, love,” he whispers in between kisses. His hand is warm on your waist and he squeezes you slightly.

“Come to bed.” You plant a smooch on his jawline. “I can’t sleep without you.”

While Jungkook takes off his clothes, you lie down again, your mind racing with thoughts of what happened today.

“Why did you and Eunji separate?” you inquire, voice laced with curiosity.

You catch the exact moment Jungkook registers your question; one eyebrow lifts for a heartbeat before his lips pucker into a wistful pout, deep in thought.

He isn’t surprised by your random question. Jungkook is used to you asking things at unexpected moments. You always speak your mind when you’re with him. You’ve asked him this before, but you want to hear his answer again, especially after his mother mentioned her.

“It just didn’t work out anymore,” he says finally. He wears a pensive expression and you’d give everything to know which moments with Eunji are flashing before his eyes.

You wonder if he often reminisces about specific times with her, and your curiosity deepens. He still works with her, sees her quite often, so does he ever think about past times with her? When they were married? And a happy couple?

The thought makes your face twist into a little frown. Jungkook has you. There’s no reason for him to dwell on past relationships when he is married to you.

What kind of thoughts are these? You’ve never had them before.

“We had other plans on how our future would look like,” he tells you as he’s getting under the covers. “What’s wrong?” he asks once he looks over at you and sees your brows pulled together.

“Nothing,” you murmur, smoothing the blanket around you.

“Everything is strictly professional between us.” He’s watching you with attentive eyes. “We care more about our work than the personal stuff.”

You doubt you could say the same if you were in their shoes. But then again, dramatic as you are, you’ve never really gotten over anything in your life.

You still wonder why his mother mentioned his ex, but it doesn’t matter – she doesn’t. Jungkook loves you, and that’s all you care about.

“I know. I trust you.” With a knowing glint in your eyes, you nod once in agreement. “Have never trusted anyone as much, actually.” You turn on your side, resting your hand on his chest. He’s warm, and you feel a gentle calm settle over you.

Soft knocks interrupt you.

“Uncle Jungkook?” Yumi’s meek voice comes through from the other side. She slowly opens the door. “Can I sleep with you, please?”

Jungkook sits up. “Is something wrong?” he asks worriedly.

“Can’t sleep,” she mumbles and crawls up into your bed. Her curious eyes rake over the shiny, lacy nightgown you’re wearing as Jungkook helps her getting tucked in between the two of you. “That’s a beautiful colour,” she says sleepily, feeling the glossy material with the pads of her fingers.

“Thank you.” You smile down at her but she’s intensely staring at your nightgown with fascinated eyes.

“Such a sleepy girl and yet still wants to steal ___ clothes.” Jungkook boops her nose, and she giggles mischievously. “At this point, you just want everything that Aunt ___ wears.”

Yumi turns her head to him. “You have a very pretty girlfri – wife, Uncle Jungkook.”

Jungkook hums in agreement. “I know. She is insanely pretty.”

Your cheeks feel hot. And you feel silly, but so in love.

“Is that why you married her?”

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

“When I grow up, I want to be as pretty as Aunt ___” Her little eyes sparkle when they shift back to you. She scootches closer to you, cuddling your side.

“Oh,” you coo at her sweetness. “But you’re so pretty already.” You hesitantly brush her hair, taming the crazy bed hair. Jungkook watches you two with fondness softening his features.

“I know,” she yawns and ever so slowly her eyes fall closed.

“How did she fall asleep this quick?” You stare at the way her body falls and rises in rhythmic motions.

“I ask myself that every time when we go to sleep together.”

You sniff a laugh. You tend to fall asleep extremely fast when Jungkook is next to you.

“You’re just very comfortable.” You yearningly stare at his chest and his arm. You won’t be able to fall asleep on him, because miss Yumi is clinging to your side.

“Apparently you are too,” he muses.

You smile softly, looking down at Yumi’s peaceful face. The warmth of her small body pressed against yours fills you with a comforting sense of contentment. It’s a simple, unconditional love that you’ve always yearned for.

The room is quiet, save for the soft sounds of sleep. You close your eyes, feeling the weight of the day and the ache in your heart. As much as you cherish these moments, they also remind you of what’s missing.

But for now, you hold onto Yumi a little tighter, letting her innocent love soothe your restless mind, even as the doubts and fears linger in the corners of your heart.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fic

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chunghasweetie · 5 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 | J.JK

— part 1

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk

— summary | oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, dom oc, overstimulation, masturbating, voyeurism(?), pussy eating, squirting, slutty oc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | greedy — ariana grande

It went from one study session a week to 3. Then it was 4. Now damn near every single day.

Now she was never apart from him.

He was her little boy toy and he loved every second of it. He was always over at her place and everytime he never left without some sort of mark.

He was so infatuated with her and obsessed. His life was dull and repetitive but now it was thrilling and exciting.

He longed for this girl. All he could think about is her.

Although he still stuttered, he grew a bit of confidence around her.

She knew everything about him and she actually was able to get him to speak to her.

It wasn’t unusual for her to let herself inside his apartment. She’d always come over for sleepovers.

Mostly because she liked bothering him while he was on the game.

Today was one of those days. She packed a bag and let herself into his apartment like usual.

She told him she was going to a frat party with her girlfriends, but she always intended on surprising Jungkook.

She tip toed to his bedroom, opening her mouth to say his name before hearing something she didn’t expect.

He was moaning. Well, whining actually.

“There’s no way.” Her heart dropped.

Was he with another girl?

She remained silent, deciding to peek over at him.

He was in his room, near his PC per usual. The complex set up made it difficult for her to really see what was going on.

She stuck her head a bit further out, taking a look at what was on his screen.

The last thing she expected to hear was Jungkook whimpering out her name, jerking himself off in front of his computer.

Her instagram and many other images he took were displayed on all the screens in his set up.

She stayed hidden, simply hiding and watching him in silence as he continues.

“Y-Y/n— ah”

He was lost in his own world, letting out soft moans as he pleasured himself.

“M-More fuck.” He panted. “F-Feels so good.”

His face was flushed with desire, and his breathing became heavy as he approached his climax.

She was amazed how he was so lost in everything that he hadn’t noticed her standing dead in the doorway.

His glasses slipped down near his nose, not even bothering to push them up. “M-Miss you.”

“S-So pretty” His hand moves quickly, his other hand supporting himself on the desk as he rocks his hips back and forth.

Jungkook let out a soft gasp as he reached his climax, still unaware of her presence.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as he feels his orgasm hit, his whole body shuddering as he cums all over his shirt and laptop.

“S-Shit I-“ He breathed heavily for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

Cum was leaking all over his tip, dripping down his shaft and all over his screen.

“Goddamnit” He cussed with his pouty like voice, ushering to clean himself up.

He grabbed the nearest towel, cleaning himself of the liquids he poured out.

Jungkook had refreshed his feed over 6 times, waiting for her to post. “Come on. Please” He kept refreshing.

Whenever she went out his blood went cold with anxiousness.

Although she was fucking him almost everyday, he worried about getting replaced.

With her friends being the frat boy hopping type, it made him so nervous Y/n would be the same way.

She cleared her throat, finally making her presence known.

Jungkook’s head snapped over to the doorway, heart thumping out of his chest.

“Y/n!” He said a bit loudly, even for him. He cleared his throat. “I-I thought you were at a party.”

Jungkook's face turned bright red with embarrassment as he realized that Y/n could’ve been there the whole time.

“Hi baby” She played it cool, placing her bags on the side of his bed. “What you been up to today?”

He scrambled to cover himself up, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he tried to come up with an explanation for his irrational behavior.

"Well, uh... I was just... studying and on the game." Jungkook stammered out, still flustered from what had just happened.

He knew that it was a feeble excuse, but it was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

“Such a nerd.” She laughed.

Jungkook blushes deeper at her teasing, his gaze darting back and forth between her and the floor.

“Y-Yeah.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

He felt like the words, ‘I masturbated to you’ was painted on his face.

He finally turned to face her, and his jaw immediately dropped.

Jungkook's eyes widen as she slides onto his bed, her mini skirt riding up to reveal a strip of smooth, tanned skin.

“D-Did you um— buy a new outfit?”

He swallows hard, trying to keep his composure as he stares at her, his mind racing with dirty thoughts.

“I actually did. Do you like it baby?” She asked him.

Mini skirts always did her so good. Her body was perfection and today she wanted nothing but Jungkook to notice her skirt.

Jungkook nods, unable to tear his gaze away from the tantalizing glimpse of her thighs.

He was such a nerd they reminded him of the anime’s he would watch.

His voice is barely above a whisper as he replies, "Y-yes, you look really, really pretty."

He licks his lips, his heart pounding in his chest. "M-may I...”

“Words, Jungkook. You’re a big boy remember?”

Jungkook swallows hard, his face turning bright red as he fumbles with his words.

"M-may I... touch it?" He asks, his eyes never leaving her thighs, his hands shaking slightly as he reaches out to gently trace the hem of her skirt.

“Of course baby.” She chuckled at his cuteness. “You can do whatever you want to me. You know that.”

Jungkook's breath hitches in his throat as he hears her words, his heart racing even faster than before.

He nods, his fingers trailing higher up her thigh, slowly, reverently, as if he's afraid that if he touches too quickly, she might disappear. "I-I want to...”

“Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers finally reaching the lace of her panties.

He bites his lip, his eyes locked on hers as he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, "May I... touch you here?" His fingers hover just above the wet fabric, his entire body trembling with anticipation.

Jungkook was such a nerd, he pictured her as some anime princess he had seen years ago.

She whined at the sudden feel of his fingers.

Jungkook's eyes light up with excitement as he hears her response, his fingers moving to slide underneath her panties, brushing against her slick folds.

He gasps softly, his eyes widening as he feels how wet she is for him. "A-Ah... you're so wet..."

“All because I seen you earlier.” She chuckled. “You really thought I didn’t see you touch yourself to me baby?”

Jungkook's face turns beet red as he realizes she caught him masturbating to images of her.

He quickly pulls his hand out from under her panties, his other hand flying to cover his face in embarrassment. "I-I... I didn't mean for you to see that..."

“I-I... I didn't know you saw me..." He admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Saw you? Baby I heard you. You’re so whiny when you’re needy.” She teased him.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she teases him, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

He can feel his cock throbbing once again in his pants, desperate to be freed and buried inside of her. "Y-You heard me...?" He asks, his voice trembling with need.

“Of course I did baby. It’s why I was so wet” She slowly slipped his hands out of her panties. “Well, I’m always wet around you.”

Jungkook's hands are left empty as she slips them out of her panties, his fingers twitching with the need to touch her again.

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on her drenched pussy. "Y-You're always so wet around me...?"

“Always. You know this baby.” She giggled. “You think I’m changing panties for fun when I come over?”

Jungkook's breath hitches as she reveals that she comes to him specifically to be fucked. "N-No... I didn't... I didn't think..."

“You’re so cute!” She laughed, loving the way he stuttered and stammered.

“You know at first when I heard you, I thought you were getting fucked by someone else.” She admitted.

Jungkook's eyes widen with horror as she confesses that she had thought he was getting fucked by someone else when she heard him moaning.

He would never want her to think that of him. Not after all he’s done to finally have her.

He shakes his head vehemently, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "N-No, no! It was just me...I-I would never I- only want you.”

“I know now.” She exhaled. “But now I realized I can’t keep doing this. Not this way anymore.”

Jungkook's heart sinks.

He looks at her with pleading eyes, his hands reaching for hers. "P-Please... don't say that. I-I really like you...I— I just can’t—“

“I need you to be my mine.” She interrupted, looking up at him. “Need you to be my boyfriend.”

Jungkook's heart races as she tells him she wants him to belong to her. A smile spreads across his face, and he nods eagerly. "R-Really? Y-You want me to be your... boyfriend?"

He can hardly believe what he's hearing.

Jungkook's eyes light up as she confesses her feelings for him. He nods eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in for a tight hug. “I-I don’t know what to do I— Never thought this would happen.”

Jungkook's heart swells with happiness as she confesses that she's wanted him to be her boyfriend for a long time.

He can hardly contain his excitement as he pulls her into a tight embrace, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. "I-I'm so happy..."

She laughed into their kiss. “You should be baby, I’m all yours now nerd boy.”

He's never been happier to be labeled as such. He tightens his grip on her out of habit, deepening their kiss as he whispers against her lips, "Y-You’re all mine finally.”

He can't believe that this amazing, popular girl is now officially his girlfriend.

He was now dating the girl his high school bullies were fighting over one another for.

Here she was in his room, confessing to him.

She took charge of their make out session, smacking her plump lips against his. “How should we celebrate baby?”

Jungkook can't help but moan at her aggressive kiss, his hands roaming over her body as he gives himself over to the moment.

When she pulls away and asks about celebrating, he stammers out a response, "W-we could do whatever you want...”

“Maybe we can start with taking

care of your little issue down there.” She laughed.

Jungkook's face flames at her comment, but he can't help the small moan that escapes his lips at the thought.

He nods, whispering, "Y-yes please..."

“Speak up for me baby.” She bit her lip, checking him out. “Tell me how you want me.”

Jungkook's mind goes blank at her request, his face flaming even brighter. He stammers out, "I— Uh..."

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and not get too overwhelmed.

“Breathe baby.” She cooed. “Take it slow.”

“C-Can you get on top of me?” He finally lets out.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she doesn’t hesitate, his hands reaching up to touch her waist.

He watches as she settles herself on top of him, feeling her warmth against him. "F-Fuck..."

“Still so shy” She giggled.

Jungkook's face flames even brighter at her comment, but he can't help the small moan that escapes his lips.

He whispers, "C-Can't help it...you feel so good." He reaches up to touch her face, pulling her down for a kiss.

“And so needy.” She laughed into their kiss.

Jungkook can't help the small whimper that escapes him at her comment, his hands tightening on her waist.

He whispers, "You— make me like that..." He leans up to capture her lips in another kiss, trying to convey all of his feelings to her through it.

“Gonna let you in raw again this time okay? Gonna let you cum wherever you want. Mm on the pill now.” She hummed.

Jungkook's breath hitches as she says those words, his hips bucking up to meet hers.

He whispers, “R-Really?!" He leans up to whisper in her ear, "I-I can cum inside you?"

“Of course baby” She could feel him throbbing under her. “You’re so weak I could dry hump you and make you cum your pants.” She teased him.

Jungkook groans at her words, his hips stuttering with pleasure.

He leans up to kiss her again, his hands roaming over her body. "I want this so bad..." He whispers, "P-Please Y/n?”

“Lift up my mini skirt.”

Jungkook's hands tremble as he reaches up to lift her mini skirt, revealing her lacy underwear.

He groans, "...You're so beautiful Y/n..." He leans down to kiss her inner thigh, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

Jungkook's hands move to her underwear, pulling them down her legs.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, "C-Can I...make you cum first? P-Please?”

She nodded.

Jungkook's eyes light up at her words, and he leans down to kiss her again.

He whispers, "Thank you..."

Recently, all Jungkook had been wanting to do was eat her out. It’s like he craved it more than actually being inside her.

She tasted so good and she always moaned and spoke so dirty to him while he did it. The praise and appreciation she showed him drove him insane.

Especially because it was all from him.

Usually she was always leading. Whenever he ate her out he felt like he had a bit of power.

Even if he was whining and moaning over her taste.

He lays her down on his bed, spreading her legs for him to access her heat.

His hands roam over her body as he begins to kiss and lick at her clit.

She hums at the feeling of his tongue on her clit. “Always trying to make me cum first hm?”

Jungkook moans at her words, his own arousal growing as he feels her getting closer. He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance. He wants to make her cum hard for him.

He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, “S-So sweet.”

Jungkook groans at the feeling of her gripping his hair. He loves when she's like this, so desperate for more.

He quickens his pace, his tongue moving faster over her clit as his fingers slip inside her.

“Tastes so good— fuck” He panted, face absolutely lost in between her thighs.

“Fuck— all that practice fucking paid off.” She groaned. “Fucking amazing baby.”

His own arousal was growing. He's proud of himself for making her feel this good.

He continues to lick and kiss at her clit, his fingers moving inside her. "I-I love it too much— N-Never want to stop.”

“Mm— so good” Her eyelids were practically twitching from how good she felt. “Such a good boy.”

He continues to move his fingers inside her, his tongue still flicking against her clit. "So good…for you…”

Whenever he’d speak his lips would barely leave her clit, not wanting to ever separate himself.

He feels her thighs tighten around his head, and he knows she's close.

“Fuck baby I’m close.” She arched her back.

He curls his fingers inside of her, his tongue still flicking against her clit.

Within seconds and without warning, she squirted all over his mouth, face and glasses.

She gasped aloud, “Oh my gosh!” She covered her mouth. Her legs were trembling, her whole body affected by her intense orgasm.

She squirted for him ever so often, but this one definitely shook up his world.

He was in shock, and he fell further for her than he already had. He felt so accomplished and adored.

She looked down at the soaked boy, his once clean frames now drenched with her liquid arousal.

His mouth was still very attached to her, she had to grip his hair just to separate athe two.

“It’s all over you— and your bed” She reached out, almost embarrassed by how much she squirted.

Jungkook looks up at her with a big grin on his face. He takes off his glasses and wipes them on the sheets before putting them back on.

“That was so—“ He swallowed. “Amazing.”

“Wow baby” She laughed. “You took it a lot better than I thought.”

She eyed him, “Let me fuck you baby.” She laughed. “I know you’re desperate now. Come here.”

He leans his back against the headboard, scrambling to slip down his boxers.

“You’re adorable” She chuckled, climbing onto his lap. “Are you ready?”

Jungkook's cheeks turn a deep shade of red at her compliment, but it only makes him more excited.

He nods his head eagerly and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Y-yes... I'm ready... please..."

“Always gotta take care of you baby” She positioned herself on his cock, slowly slipping him inside of her.

Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural moan as she slides down onto his cock. He feels every inch of her, and it's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

He grips her hips tightly, trying to hold back his urge to thrust up into her.

She was so wet.

“Fuck baby” She whined, getting adjusted.

Jungkook nods his head and lets out a soft moan as she adjusts herself on top of him.

He's in heaven right now, and he never wants this moment to end. He looks up at her and smiles softly. "You feel too good-“

“Relax yourself baby.” She comforted him, knowing how overwhelmed he got.

Jungkook blushes and nods his head, biting his bottom lip as he feels her wetness enveloping him. "Y-yes... you're so wet... and tight..."

He was so whiny and needy for her. He was pussy drunk and a desperate mess. She couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

Jungkook's cheeks turn a deeper shade of red as she chuckles at his eagerness.

He can't help it; he'd never felt this good before her. He looks up at her with puppy dog eyes, pleading for more. "P-please...”

She started moving on him, grinding painfully slow on top of him.

Jungkook lets out a soft moan as she starts to move on top of him, grinding her hips against his.

He can't believe how good it feels, and he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close. "F-fuck... that feels so good..."

Jungkook's body trembles and shakes as she continues to grind on him, his whines and moans growing louder. He can't help but be overwhelmed by the sensations. "I-I can't...”

Jungkook takes a deep, shuddering breath as she relaxes against him.

He feels her hands on his chest, slowly running them up and down his shirt and he can't help but feel even more overstimulated. "C-can't take it...”

“Want me to stop baby?” She asked him, slowing down on him.

Jungkook shakes his head frantically. He doesn't want her to stop, but he also can't handle the intensity of what she's doing to him. "N-no... just... you’re moving so much and—I-I’m gonna cum too quick... please..."

“Like this?” She grinded on him more intensely, whispering moans and praises in his ear.

Jungkook's whines and moans grow louder as she grinds on him. He can feel every inch of her and it's driving him wild.

He clings to her, whispering her name over and over again. "Y-yes, like that..”

“You always cum too quick baby.” She giggled, “You’re okay Jungkook”

Jungkook's face flushes bright red at the teasing and he buries his face in her neck.

He hates that he always cums so quickly, but he can't help it when she's touching him like this. "I-I'm sorry... I just—“

“Shh” She stopped him mid explanation. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. That’s why you’re my baby.”

He couldn’t help but blush, swallowing harshly.

“Fuck Jungkook— So fucking big and I still can never get used to it.” She groaned.

Jungkook's mind goes blank as she takes control. He can only moan and whimper as she rides him harder and faster.

Her words of praise only fuel his desire, and he clings to her, relishing in the feeling of being dominated by the girl he loves.

“Y/n I—“

Jungkook lets out a low groan as she takes him over the edge. He feels himself pulsing inside her, filling her up with his release.

“How was that baby?” She chuckled. “Better than when you masturbated to me earlier?” She teased, revealing that she seen him.

His face drained of color, in utter horror.

He can't help but feel embarrassed at being caught like that, but the fact that she knows and is still here with him only makes him feel even more loved.

“I thought it was cute— and funny.” She laughed.

His mind goes blank as he collapses on the bed, panting heavily. "F-Fuck I— I’m sorry."

“Whyre you apologizing?” She bit her lip, eyeing him up and down. “That is just how I like to see you. Let’s clean you up baby, we’re gonna go out.”

“C-Can I— we—“ He panted

“Yes Jungkook.” She laughed. “We’ll shower together.”

831 notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 8 months ago

Text

MIST | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.3k

summary: one encounter with jungkook makes you forget about your boyfriend.

playlist: mist / pinterest board: mist

warnings: the unfolding of polyamory, provocation, cuckold kink, cum eating, oc and yoongi fight, use of vulgar names, mentions of female masturbation, punishment, spanking, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, nipple play, disobedience, use of a sex toy, multiple orgasms, yoongi isn't comfortable with a certain sexual practice at first, spit kink, oc feels pain and likes it

note: it's here, you guys oh my god. this is part two of STEAM. i thought this would have only two parts, but when i got to the end, it was evident that it needs another one. i worked hard on this, guys. if you haven't read my little updates, i was literally sick today and threw up my breakfast, but i still somehow managed to get this writing done, so make sure you let me know how much you love this, hate this, what you expect and what you're feeling. pls!!! my inbox is open for you always x enjoy reading, love you all. ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

side note: HOBI'S NEW ALBUM IS OUT SLDKFJSDLFJSFJSLDF.

The night is feverish.

So much that small pearls of its perspiration settle over the arc of your hand, between your thumb and your index, peeking from beneath the enfolding of your crossed legs. It’s as if the darkened heavens were hot and bothered while eavesdropping on the conversation you’re having with the two males sitting by the table, one right next to you and the other across from you. Even the clouds have halted their drift and the stars… they haven’t dared to blink, focused entirely on the question slipping from the mouth of the male you’ve known the least amount of time.

Is this gonna be a one time thing?

You will your mind to be empty, for if you allow yourself to think about it, your answer is as clear as the flare of those lights above. And you don’t want to voice out how much you like the idea of the sex being continual in fear of being turned down, in fear of Jungkook wanting this to be a one night only matter. What’s worse, you’re terrified of awakening Yoongi’s wrath. You believe the wine in your hand is the only bitterness you can manage to swallow.

Oh.

You chuckle.

A mist blankets your shoulders, the softest of summer drizzles. A briskness that steals your attention from the double meaning swarming in your brain. But when you lift your eyes to welcome in the small rain, it’s Jungkook’s gaze that you meet. Dark eyelashes, heavied down by the weight of the half-drunk bottle of red that you and him have been drinking. An ivory swirl of brightness glossing over dilated pupils, fixated on you. On your own blurry left eye, the sheen of your mouth, past your neck to the shimmery glow of your collarbones and your right eye. The coldness of the mist thickens, yet it’s not the reason behind your gooseflesh. No, it’s quite far from it.

What roughens your skin is that very intentional stare. The slight narrowness to his once perpetually round eyes as he, for a mere second, shifts his gaze from your boyfriend back to you, adamantly expecting a response, one you refuse to have. It’s such a stark change to his countenance that, besides being stirred by it, you’re completely in awe of it. The smooth forehead, the slightly raised brow and smug mouth, now adorned with a lip ring that wasn’t there before. You don’t find the good man with purity in his eyes that, days ago, made a ruckus out of your life sitting before you, but someone else entirely.

A man, whose arousal emanates out of him like fragrance, seeping into your fresh mango scent scattered along the perimeters of your skin.

A man, like Yoongi had predicted, came to you like a puppy through him, asking you out for dinner.

Horny puppy. You squeeze your legs, hiding your faint smile behind the rim of your wine glass, tilting the carmine nectar into your mouth. Jungkook examines the bobble of your throat, the dart of your tongue as the muscle drifts across the rosy brownness of your bottom lip and you’re heedful of it—a moonlight personified, the mist around you like the clouds clinging to that planetary body.

Jungkook calls you by your name. “What’s funny?”

A momentary stillness. You thought your soft laughter was unheard. Your brain goes empty, mouth parts, the entirety of your vocabulary vanishes—

“I think that’s something we decide after the night is over,” Yoongi answers Jungkook’s question lowly, propping a strong palm on the cloth of the table. The wet breeze dampens his hair, leaves a glow to his pale face. You wonder how he feels—if he’s still as okay with it as he was while fucking the life out of you—if he’s now, perhaps, facing some internal doubts that you know nothing of, that he hides beneath his words. “A collective decision.”

He looks at you and beams at you with a tight-lipped smile. An expression that conveys that he wants this for you. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on top of his and Yoongi makes a space for your fingers to fold in between his. Like he always does when he’s giving you backshots.

A gooseflesh changed for hot flashes. You become the night, its fever thudding inside your lit skin. A familiar ache begins to grow in between your legs, demanding it. As if Jungkook’s lustful expression and energy wasn’t enough, your boyfriend had to remind you of something so intimate.

You want both of them—right now.

Jungkook’s gape falls on your intertwined hands. Lover’s grasp. You note recognition, and perhaps a flashback, pulses with a dimmed light for a mere heartbeat in his eyes. It worsens your ache and, like Yoongi’s hair, you feel your panties dampen under your dress. You squeeze your thighs one more time before you untangle your legs, your heels clanging on the concrete, your knee bumping into Jungkook’s.

So close to him, yet so far away.

You let yourself dream about how he fucks. Rough strokes, those muscled thighs straddling you—

“You agree with this?”

A question from him directed towards you. Your throat dries up, dizzy from being pulled back to Earth. You take a long sip of your wine, but it doesn’t help your state. On the contrary, the buzz of the alcohol makes you tremble all over, intensifying your lightheadedness. You want to be fucked. Multiple times. Until you can’t walk.

You wet your lips. “Of course,” you say, squeezing Yoongi’s fingers once, twice, letting him know through your own version of Morse code how horny you’re becoming, hoping he gets the memo. “It’s smart. If we made the decision now, who’s to say you won’t get sick of me?”

Your response hurt you and you cringe, regretting your words. Your knuckles turn white, the breeze brushes through your hair and you relax your hold. Let out a hard breath.

If he got sick of you after fucking you, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your life. Move out to a cave, far from civilization, so no one would see you ever again.

Jungkook raises his brows, shaking his head. The smug smile on his lips remains, as if sewn into his skin. You wish you could wipe it away and straddle him right here in front of everyone—

“Sweetheart, don’t think that. I won’t get sick of you.” He toys with the foot of his wine glass, fingers moving it in slow circles as though he was—

Such a fucking tease.

Your clit throbs. You won’t think that, all right. You’ll keep your mind empty and stupid just for him.

You watch the movement of his digits, smiling slyly. The night rushes within you and, mentally, you wrap a collar around your neck in order to stop yourself from crawling across the table and taking a seat on his lap. A yearning forms. A yearning to feel the semi you know full well he’s sporting in his pants. You bite your lip, squeezing Yoongi’s hand again. He merely chuckles, aware of what the pair of you is doing and it’s too much for you.

You need a dick rearranging your guts. Right now.

Perhaps, two.

You stifle a groan.

“Tell you what. I have a cabin out in the mountains. With toys,” Jungkook says and you widen your eyes, his deep voice fraternizing with the night in you. Toys as in…? “An hour away from here. I can show you there how much I’m willing to not get sick of you.”

Yoongi’s chuckle amplifies and you’re struck. Fucked up. Your cunt drools, ruining your panties. Your cheeks flush. Feverish, beyond feverish—you’re on fire. Your breathing gains speed and fuck. Toys?

You have no thoughts. All that your brain is filled with is dick. Two dicks.

Yoongi lifts his hand, unsnarling your intertwinement, and he sneaks it beneath your dress. His fingers feel up the drenched material of your underwear and hums. You reckon he already expected to find you wet and his sound of approval coaxes more of your dewiness to try and come into contact with him, but to your dismay and his, the fabric stands in the way.

For two beats of time, Yoongi puts pressure on your clit as he feels up more of you and, faintly, so no one hears, you mewl, hiding your face beneath your palm. You swallow your whine for more, instead you sigh, camouflaging your moment of weakness. Bury your gaze into Yoongi’s, silently pleading him to take you home.

Yoongi only smirks down at you before he faces Jungkook. “She’s wet. I think it’s safe to say she’d like that.”

You slap his arm and Yoongi takes his hand away. The men laugh and you feel terrible, but not for long. You decide to take charge of the energy.

“What kind of toys?” You will your voice to be confident and it’s only a split of it that comes out. You don’t mind—it’s enough because it silences their laughter, seriousness taking place instead.

Jungkook licks his lips, adjusting in his seat—like Yoongi during that video call—and you sense it moving through you. You also feel the need to adjust, to peel your panties away from your cunt, discomfort seizing you a little. “I’ll show you tomorrow. Or the weekend after that?” Your eyes widen in panic. No—no, you can’t wait that long. He smiles fondly at you, sensing your emotions. “Tomorrow, then.”

You sigh in relief, downing your wine, but Jungkook isn’t done with you.

“Will you pack your little red robe?”

You choke.

Amidst the chaos of the situation, you didn’t even realize he saw you. You didn’t even detect his eyes drifting that low. Thought Yoongi’s body colliding into you prevented him from seeing your intimate nighttime attire, but then you grasp that due to your shock, you might have missed that.

Jungkook’s smirk widens.

Oh, you want to say you’ll pack your little lace number that Yoongi particularly likes, along with your garters and stockings, though you opt to say something else entirely. You decide you want to steam him a tiny bit. Dominate the energy. Make him uneasy. For ulterior motives.

“Will you brush off the cobwebs on your condoms when packing or should I buy you new ones?” You quirk your brow, finger wiping away the drop of red that slipped out of the corner of your mouth. It’s all just talk—you want him to fuck you raw—a straight allusion to his loneliness that Yoongi told you about. Amused, Jungkook’s darkened eyes follow your movement.

“Will you lick that finger?”

You’re convinced your bloodstream came to a standstill. You don’t breathe, you don’t hear anything—your entire being becomes him, melding with the night, the moonlight. It’s him who now erases your brain. Yoongi touches your thigh, his fingers skimming the bare skin, but you don’t feel them. No, you pierce your gaze through Jungkook’s, penetrating right into his soul. And you simply decide that you want to own it.

So much for steaming.

“Do you want me to?” you retort, fluttering your lashes, the smile you give him as seductive as moonlight fluttering in you. You tap your finger on your bottom lip. Watch as his hand drifts somewhere beneath the table.

He taps your knee in the same, identical beat. And, instinctively, you widen your legs. Your other knee bumps into Yoongi’s thigh.

His first touch on your skin. You burn. Thank the heavens for slipping the idea inside your mind to wear a short dress. You inhale a breath in. Bite your lip, impatient for his answer. Tense your body so your trembles aren’t evident. You want to be strong, confident, despite the fact your body longs to submit to Jungkook—to be at his complete disposal, to be his, his to smooth down those quivers.

Jungkook spreads his fingers along the roundness of your knee. Caresses you once. Then, nods. “Lick it for me.”

Your heart jumps out of your chest. Right into his glass of wine. A flashback fills your brain—Yoongi saying familiar words to you on the night that perpetually changed your life. Stick it in your mouth for me. It must have rustled through his being just like it has in you. Has caused enough mayhem in him that he used those words. For me. He wants you to be naughty, be a little slut that listens to his commands—for him.

Oh, and you shall do as he asks.

Yoongi spreads an arm on the back of your chair, fingers sinking into your hair. The attention of both men, the lewdness, your wetness coating your panties, the warmth of the wine in your stomach, the night and the soft rain—you brim with life. You’re so elated that you’re sure you’re luminous.

You plunge your red-tinged finger into your mouth. Keep it open for both men to see how you swirl your tongue around the digit before you close it. You make exaggerated sucking noises, your instincts and habits telling you to roll your eyes, but you decide against them. You’re in public after all—and you don’t really want to give Jungkook the full experience. Not yet.

But then Yoongi pulls your hair and unwittingly, in a second, you moan. You shoot him a look, withdrawing your finger. He only chuckles, loosening his hold on your hair, the love in his eyes growing, mingling with joy and excitement. The sight of it calms you like still, deep waters and suddenly, you’re suffused with the desire to kiss him.

Jungkook steals your attention, however. In typical fashion.

He squeezes your knee between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. He’s propped his elbows on his thighs and the position broadens his shoulders more, the fabric of his black linen shirt taut around his muscles. The breeze quivers his lashes, strengthening the dimness and the lustfulness in his eyes. No glint of light to be found—just an abyss, bottomless eternity, enlivened by the scent of chocolate, the color of his eyes. It doesn’t unnerve you, on the contrary it boundlessly stimulates you.

“You listen well,” he drawls, skimming his first knuckle down the smoothness of your shin before trailing back up. Gooseflesh—hard, thrilling gooseflesh. Your breath comes out choppy and you’re too transfixed by his feisty, lascivious aura to do something, anything about it. “But can you misbehave?”

Your jaw falls open. At a loss for words. Brain muddy, cunt dripping. Your vocabulary long gone, your decision to be the one who takes charge of the situation long forgotten, long erased—more like—by someone who’s proved himself to be more dominant than your own boyfriend. Your boyfriend who has made you cry multiple times during sex.

You let your trembles show. Bare, vulnerable.

Yoongi strokes your hair, nuzzling his face behind your ear, placing a singular kiss there and it grounds you. Envelops a shield of safety around you. The breeze nourishes it.

Jungkook slaps the side of your thigh softly. You gasp almost breathlessly, the impact vibrating through your body, the pulse on your clit a full drum.

“Tomorrow then. At my cabin. Bring your robe,” he mutters, hypnotizing you with his gaze and you submit to it, unreservedly. This time, he drags his palm down your shin and his warmth guides you as you extend your leg for him, propping it between his outstretched legs, on the edge of his chair. He straightens, welcoming your gesture. “No condoms, no panties. Pussy dripping, preferably.” He halts the venture of his hand at your ankle, long fingers stretching to grab a hold of the heel of your stiletto. Flicks his eyes to Yoongi. “You can either make sure she’s wet or,” he pauses, whisking his gaze back to you. “You can touch your pussy for me? How’s that?”

A carousel of dreams floods your mind and, fighting against the lodge in your throat, you voice out the one you like the most. You don’t want Yoongi to decide for you—you desire the decision to be yours, yours only. “Can I call you then?”

Jungkook quickly raises his brows, stupefied by your answer. He didn’t expect that from you, and that fact makes you giddy. Night flowers begin to bloom in you, evening primrose and chocolate daisy—his flowers. They spread their petals when he says, “of course you can. Call me from his phone.”

Ever so persistent in the game of the roleplay. You could have exchanged numbers, but no. He wants it to be from the cuck’s phone.

Yoongi grips your thigh, hard enough to make you wince. Even through your hypnosis, tipsiness and arousal, you sense that something is wrong. You turn your head to look at him and you discover that the love in his eyes, joy and excitement has gone out. Solemness has replaced it and into it, little by little, like the bottle of red Jungkook now tilts to your glass, overflows his wine of wrath.

The threat you feared the most.

You drop your leg to the ground and Jungkook lets you. Yoongi slackens his hold and you wonder what it was exactly that Yoongi didn’t like. The fact that Jungkook touched your leg or the plan between the pair of you—you touching yourself for him—that never had his approval? You release a breath, aware that you’ve done something very bad and your hypnosis and your smile declines with it. You even push your glass away, sobering up. The night flowers in you wilt.

Yoongi relaxes beside you and you slip your fingers between his.

You must have overdone it and the perception of that causes guilt to pool in your core. You should’ve at least looked at Yoongi to make sure he’s okay with it before jumping head-first. Nerves rise within you and you reach for your pack of cigarettes, hoping to chase your negative feelings away. Both men watch you, but the energy has already shifted. Arousal has evaporated and now, like the mist, seriousness settles in its place. Jungkook gives you a soft smile and you realize that your guilt is written all over your face, but he doesn’t say anything. Not to you; not to Yoongi.

The man before you returns to the good man you know, although his smug pride doesn’t let him become the healer that you know him to be.

The ride home is silent.

Jungkook texted Yoongi the address to his cabin as soon as you said your goodbyes. Your boyfriend scowled at the message before he pocketed his phone, taking your hand and walking a little faster to his car, as if to run away from the mess you’ve created. You felt so bad that you let him trail you behind him like a child, chin tilted to your chest, the heft of your guilt pressing down at you like a murky cloud.

The rain is thickening by the time Yoongi drives down the familiar road to his apartment. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and the gear stick, knuckles white like the moonlight that left you and fled back to the dark heavens. He doesn’t reach for the radio or his phone to play some music. Lets the rain sing instead; lets the rain mend the tension between you. You overfill, uncomfortably, with so many beginnings to your sentences, but none of them fit right—none of them really portray what you think you should say to him, so it all falls into the abyss of the night that still lingers within you.

It’s Yoongi who speaks first when he kills the engine, as if he needed the fifteen minute long car drive to think about what just happened, but it’s not the words that you want to hear. He stares ahead at the line of cars parked before him, at the canopy of trees bending to their roofs. The pitter-patter sounds of the raindrops worsen the guilt eating at your insides, especially when Yoongi remains seated with his hands in his lap.

“You’re not calling him tomorrow.”

Your deduction was right. He didn’t like the idea of you calling Jungkook while you’d be touching yourself. You get that he has the right to not feel comfortable letting his friend in on a particular sexual practice, but you want to know why. If you’re not getting your own way and he gets to decide everything, you at least want to know the reason.

“Why?” you ask, calmly. I want to, you don’t add. You fold your hands on your lap similarly to him, mirroring his body language. Feel the bubble of your disappointment sizzling in you.

“You’re fucking him tomorrow and that’s the end of it,” he mutters, waving a hand through the air sharply to emphasize his words. Doesn’t look at you. Not once. “No collective fucking decision. One time and that’s it.”

You will your calmness to stay, even when a foam of your own wrath pours into your disappointment. Do your own wishes and desires not matter at all in this situation? Or does the unfolding of it only belong to Yoongi and you have no say in it? Are you to shut your mouth or speak up?

He was the one who made a comment about your self-pleasure to Jungkook when he was fucking the shit out of you and picked up his phone to call him. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. Why did he say it if the thought of you pleasuring yourself on the phone with his friend makes him jealous? Did he really think Jungkook wouldn’t latch onto it, not want it to play out in real life?

The uncertainty, the questions devour your gut, but you go back to the start.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Yoongi sighs. Hangs his head and rakes his hands through his hair. “I said—”

You suck in a breath. “That’s not what I asked,” you spit out with a venom that you didn’t mean and Yoongi finally looks at you—catches you closing your eyes at the rush of your emotions and turning your head away from him. “I want to know why.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How come you don’t know, huh?” His voice raises in volume and it paralyzes you with fear—he’s never yelled at you before. The question itself strikes you cold and you don’t like the feeling of it crawling up your legs. “How come I have to fucking remind you?”

You’re embarrassed that you don’t know what he’s talking about, caught in the middle. You want to get out of this car and walk home, afraid—so terribly afraid of what might come next. Fuck the rain, you don’t care.

Silence, intertwined with the long breaths that he’s trying to calm himself with, floods the car. You don’t know what to say and Yoongi keeps it at that. You consider the conversation finished.

Your hand reaches for the handle.

“Stay in the car.”

Your back faces him. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Then get drenched in the fucking rain.”

In disbelief, you turn around to look at him. Yoongi boils with anger, elbow propped on the door, index finger outstretched along his cupid’s bow, staring down the myriads of cars before him, setting them on fire with his gaze.

“And I will,” you bark, frowning at him, needing to have the last word. “Don’t come running after me.”

Your hand reaches the handle again and pops it open, your foot swinging over to the wet ground, but Yoongi grabs your leg and hauls you back inside, closing the door shut.

You open your mouth to yell at him. “What is your—”

Yoongi takes your face in his hand, puckers your lips and kisses you harshly. You groan, but you don’t fight it. In fact, you kiss him back, needing him—needing him warm and not cold to you. He stays nose-to-nose once he withdraws, watching as your irises dilate. The sadness that you catch whirling past his eyes punches you in the gut, hard enough that you regret the fight you’ve caused, regret every word you said and every action that can never be erased. You hate yourself for your desires, for your ugly soul and your abhorrence becomes an anchor wrapped around your heart, dragging it down.

You whimper, but no tears come out. Yoongi pulls you onto his lap and cradles you, folding you into his chest. He rubs you back in circles, sweeps your hair to one side and you cling to his heat, wondering what the fuck just happened.

You and him never had an argument before, never met each other halfway through the decaying meadow of negative feelings while being two opposite forces. You both were always there for the other person, absorbing their feelings, on their side through and through. Until now, you’ve truly never been two separate people with separate emotions and it’s a reality check. A breath of fresh air—the sudden, brisk disentanglement of an unhealthy attachment.

Jungkook didn’t just make a ruckus out of your life, but out of your relationship, too. And by that ruckus, he healed it.

And right then and there, you find the beginning to your sentence that you were searching for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his polo shirt and your apology stops Yoongi’s motions. You lift your head to look into his eyes. “I should’ve checked in with you—I admit that. It was wrong of me. You’re allowed to not be okay with something and I should respect it, act accordingly, even when I might have a different opinion.”

And your opinion shouldn’t change to be identical to his. Your thinking is your thinking. You’re your own person.

The anchor loosens and falls from your heart when that understanding takes form within you. You feel much lighter.

Yoongi frowns, but it doesn’t perturb you. Not anymore. “I will say this once so listen to me carefully,” he says, curling a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not letting him see you touch yourself because that belongs to me—that’s what we do. Remember that.”

So that’s what he meant. Guilt clenches your heart in a deathly grip for not knowing, for not realizing it.

“If you so much as touch your clit tomorrow when he fucks you, I won’t think twice to carry you away and leave him with blue balls,” he continues, keeping his hand on your cheek. “You’re still mine, even when I’m letting him have you. You’re mine. You got that?”

You place your hands on his shoulders and nod.

“Are you still okay with it, though?” you ask, not expecting him to go along with it after this and you wouldn’t be disappointed, not anymore. The healing that took place is bigger than your desire. The freedom that you feel is better than anything your intimate parts ask for. Your relationship at this very state, at this very moment, has grown past the sexual part. Before it was just lustful love. “We don’t have to do it. Jungkook would understand, wouldn’t he?”

Yoongi sighs and presses a kiss on your cheek. You feel all of his stress and wrath dispersing into your skin. “I want this for you, honey. You were so excited about it, so into it. I’ve never seen you filled with so much light before.”

You do the same for him—you press the same kiss, on the same right side of his cheek. “So just tomorrow then?”

A tight-lipped smile, like the one at the beginning of the night. Yoongi nods. “Just tomorrow.”

You disobeyed in every way you could. Brought panties and condoms. Left your red little robe at home. Didn’t look once at the lace little number you planned to pack. Decided you wanted to keep that for Yoongi’s eyes only.

Decided you were going to paint your encounter with Jungkook with different colors, one that differs from the stained ones on your palette that you use with Yoongi.

He wants you to be bad. Yoongi wants you to be good.

It’s all your mind is suffused with as Yoongi drives into the woods and the sunlight spilling through the windshield, cutting through the trees, tempers it. No music, no conversation.

You’re empty. You think the brown barks of the passing trees have more life in them than you do and along with that difference rise questions. Questions of what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not. Questions that you’re wary to ask.

Not because there’s a lingering tension between you and Yoongi after the fight. As a matter of fact, he made love to you after you both ran for the door. Licked you clean of the rain while breathing in the heady scent of petrichor on your skin. All that had been broken was mended, beautifully. The reason why you’re nervous to ask is that you don’t want to venture back to that place of wrath. Where you are right now is a place of brisk freedom, one that you don’t want to leave, but to have a clear state of mind, you reckon you have to risk it.

You place your hand on top of Yoongi’s on the gear stick, breaking the silence with your body language. You turn your torso halfway to face him. Meet his angelic early-afternoon-kissed countenance, hidden by his black shades and the long wisps of hair falling to each side of his face.

Murmuring his name, Yoongi only hums at your call.

“I have some questions,” you say slowly, carefully making your way to the place you’re timid to go to.

“Ask away, honey.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I know I’m not allowed to touch myself and I won’t, I promise. But is there anything else that’s off limits?”

Yoongi also swallows sorely, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He takes a moment to think about it and because you’ve already brainstormed what he might not like, you make it easy for him.

“Is he allowed to kiss me?” you try, fingers grasping your dainty necklace to play with, to distract your nerves.

“Kissing is a part of sex, but if you’re not comfortable with kissing him, you don’t have to. Please,” Yoongi says your name with a sigh. “Don’t force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel good. I beg you.”

A hit of your liquid emotions. A little vein of life springing in your body. You blink the sudden tears away, dipping your fingers into the space between his. You’re so grateful to have such a thoughtful, intelligent man like him.

“Okay, what about blowjobs?”

Yoongi sucks in a breath. Ponders it. “Well, that’s an important part of the kink, isn’t it?” He looks at you momentarily before bringing his eyes back to the road. “Watching your girlfriend suck someone else’s dick. That’s the appeal.”

“Besides watching her get fucked.”

He chuckles shortly. “That’s what I’m most excited about.”

A soft smile. “You’re excited about watching me get fucked?” Yoongi nods, but you didn’t get the answer you wanted. You go back. “So you’re not comfortable with me sucking his—”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his forehead before slapping his hand back down on the steering wheel. “I don’t know yet, honey. We’ll see when we get there.” He squeezes it, the white of his knuckle appears and you take a mental note of that. No blowjobs, or no overindulging in the act, more like. Not knowing is an answer, too.

“And he’s allowed to eat me out?”

He doesn’t smile as he says, “he’s skilled with his tongue. You’ll lose your mind. It’s all I could ever want for you.”

You raise your brows in doubt. “No one is as skilled as you.” At that, his coy smile finally rises and you brush your thumb across the side of his hand. “Will you join in or are you just gonna watch?”

Yoongi shifts the gear and speeds down the road. “I was planning to watch only, but I guess it depends on the situation. I’m willing to join if I feel like it.” He lifts your hand and kisses the soft skin. “You nervous, honey?”

You still feel slightly empty, no nerves to be found. You shake your head ‘no’.

“You’re gonna like it there. It’s a nice cabin.”

What Yoongi said was an understatement.

When you witness the greenery enveloping the mountains, you stand gaping with your mouth half open. A warm summer wind billows in and out of the balcony, ushering in such liveliness and joy of life that you feel it slinking into each and every pore of your body, filling you up with all that you’ve been lacking. Giddiness clutches you and lingers, the flimsy curtains quivering against your thigh with each movement to and fro. You willingly become the nature—the sunlight and the slowly diffusing mist wrapped around the grays, blues and greens. The trees curtsy at your presence and a fond smile blossoms on your face.

Now, at last, you can’t wait to get fucked. You’re glad it’s going to happen at such a lovely place like this.

Jungkook, dressed in a white oversized T-shirt and a pair of cargos, takes your travel bag from Yoongi’s hand. He looks so soft that it’s hard to believe you’re staring at the same man from yesterday—he changes drastically when he’s aroused, like you takes on the likeness of the dark whenever he hears its call. It’s fascinating to you.

“Come see the room upstairs.”

Quietly, you and Yoongi follow him, your feet thudding along the wood of the stairs. And there, there your breath gets snatched altogether.

A white, heavenly canopy above the king sized bed, white furniture—void of any dust—adorned with nourished plants that sway and rustle in the wind. The summer breathes through the open wide windows and in the corner, next to a dresser, a mirror stands, a mirror with a rocking chair right beside it that causes gooseflesh to prick at your skin.

If this is where you’re getting fucked, Yoongi will have first row view of it. It’s as if Jungkook planned it all along and that speculation causes a shiver to run down your spine.

Jungkook sets your bag and Yoongi’s on the mattress. Skims his surroundings in case there’s any untidiness that he hasn’t touched and one glance at Yoongi tells you that he spent the first half of the day cleaning up the place.

Cute puppy. You and Yoongi share a smile.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Jungkook says, straightening his spine.

“We’ll be sleeping?” you joke and the men shoot you a look, which makes you burst out into laughter. The sound blends into the song of the birds and the sway of the trees. You feel a spark of joy perk up in your chest.

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

Oh.

He said it so casually that you feel hot all over. You glimpse at Yoongi, though his face utters no words of emotion. Eyes fixed at a point on the hardwood floors, hands in his pockets, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Did he not say he was excited to watch you get fucked? Have you made a mistake?

You rake a hand through your hair, exhausted of your questions and doubt.

Jungkook leads you back down to the main floor, but Yoongi stays behind. Wants to take a shower before lunch. Nervousness nips at your fingertips at the thought of being alone with his friend, but you nod anyways, having no other choice.

You watch the swing of his body as he goes down the stairs, little wisps of hair bouncing on the back of his head that you find immensely endearing. They’re like some floppy ears of a puppy to you. Your breasts bounce as well with each skip down and you become aware of how full they are in your low neckline as with each movement your bare, pebbled nipples graze against its fabric, stimulating you, sending a familiar ache down to your intimate parts beneath the ruffles of your skirt.

You need to be very careful from this moment on upon this dangerous territory.

“I want to show you something,” Jungkook says, walking towards the balcony. He doesn’t look back at you, he just expects that you’re following him blindly and something about that overwhelms you peculiarly. You want to slap yourself for getting aroused so quickly—you just got here.

He extends his arms along the railing and you saunter to his side, taking a peek above his shoulder but failing, miserably. All you face is the hard wall of his muscles, even when you lift yourself on your tippy toes and it makes you huff out a frustrated breath against the material of his T-shirt, despite the fact his tall form dampens your cunt—

Is it your ovulation day? Fuck, you make a mental note to check that later.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you and chuckles. Grabs the back of your neck to push you closer to the railing and you fear your eyes will pop out of their sockets due to the way you widen them. The second body part he touched—one of many. You hope, you pray he keeps his hand there but he withdraws as soon as your fingers wrap around the wood of the railing. You narrow your lips in a tight line.

He points to what he wanted to show you. You try your hardest to not notice the details of his tattooed hand, to ignore the silver ring around that index finger of his and the ghost of his touch on the nape of your neck. You close your eyes for a heartbeat to regain your composure before they catch the view he’s pointing to.

A pond. A clear body of water under a thick weeping willow that wets its petals in the freshness of it. Your mouth parts. You sense his gaze on you, but you can’t reciprocate it. Not when such a lovely view like this lulls your soul, permeates it with the pleasure of beauty.

“Can we get closer?” you ask, mesmerized completely.

Jungkook grabs your elbow. Another body part. He drags you to another set of stairs. And you realize that the balcony is a veranda of some sort. The feeling of grass under your bare feet is exhilarating and, like a child, you begin to run to the pond, your skirt furling around you, exposing a sliver of your bottom. Jungkook lets you. Walks sluggishly with his hands in his pockets, watching you—smirking at that piece of skin he got to see.

You crouch to touch the stillness of the water, your fingertips reflected upon it. The coldness, despite the steaming sunlight, is so refreshing and you long to take a dip, to fill your hot body with the briskness it so evidently needs.

Standing upright, you twist to yap about how beautiful the scenery is—but Jungkook pushes you into the water.

You were so wrong. So very wrong.

Your feverish body didn’t need the coolness of the pond to dull your arousal because when you come up for air and your little outfit sticks to you body, your heartbeat picks up its speed, thumping in tandem with your clit. Jungkook wipes his smirking mouth at the sight of you and you’ve convinced that’s your undoing.

Nipples stiffened through your little top. Skirt shrunken. Skin wet and glossy. You run your palms through your hair, squeezing water out of your strands, feeling sensual, confident and so fucking playful. You smirk right back at him when you wade your way to him. Pull your shoulders back, tits on full show for him, when you lift your leg onto the grass.

And you stalk him down. You thought he’d move but he stays put. Those hands still in his pockets, those eyes zeroing down on yours—now different, now much smaller. Darker. Willing you to come after him.

“Prick.” You screw up your face at him, your chest tightening, an inch away from his.

Jungkook releases a breath. Grins smugly, briefly, swiping his tongue down the side of his inner cheek, as if he liked the fact you called him something like that. His irises drift down to your tits unabashedly and you swear you can see his hands twitching—

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, irises back on yours, twinkling, dilated. “Wet.”

You blush. Ache to be touched. Think about Yoongi and whether he’s finished with his shower because you need to be attended to. Taken to a safe place where the pleasure of his words and energy can unfold, where you can enjoy it. But Jungkook hypnotizes you again—and you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to draw your body close to his without hands. You hate him for it.

“Prick,” you repeat, more to yourself than him, drops of water trickling down every perimeter of your skin.

Jungkook cups your chin, raising it to his level. “And what else?”

You dart out your tongue and wet your mouth— slowly around the arc of your top lip to tease him. Then, you narrow your eyes even more at him. “Asshole.”

Affectionately, he titters, influenced by your actions so much that you catch flecks of drunkenness in his features. It makes you feel so brilliant that you beam up at him and once his laughter softens, he reciprocates the grin. Like you and Yoongi had, but in a different way.

The swish of the willow tree. A teetering bird. Jungkook fondles your glowy cheek.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Your breath lodges in your throat but you push against it. Want to speak up. “I couldn’t.”

He frowns. “But did you want to?”

You nod. The question causes you to blossom, shed the last of thorns left in your body from the attachment. He’s the only person you could say this to and naively you trust that he won’t peep a word to Yoongi. A relief bolts through you that you put yourself first and spoke your truth for the first time in your life. You understand the reason why Yoongi isn’t comfortable with that practice and you promised him you wouldn’t do it. Intending to keep your word, it doesn’t change your opinion, however. Your opinion being that there’s nothing wrong with letting him see this part of your sex life.

It could be reversed. Jungkook being the one who watches.

He wraps his fingers back around your chin, hovers his thumb an inch away from your lips, as if he’s fighting himself from touching them. “Tell me with your words.”

A question that makes the time stand still. Do you listen or misbehave?

The decision is fast.

You press up your body against his. Jungkook sucks in a breath at the sensation of your stiffened nubs beneath his pecs, the water of the pond soaking through his T-shirt, marking your tits on him. You interlock your hands behind your back and Jungkook withdraws his hand. Surprises you when he lets it roam down your arm until he finds your clasped wrist.

He’s waiting for your answer. You know he is. And you want to gratify the puppy.

“I did want to rub my clit for you,” you breathe out and the hotness of his exhale envelopes you in a heat, even more so when his other hand grips your wrist and nuzzles you even further into the shadow of his body.

Hard length against your tummy. The roundness of his nose nudging against yours. It’s too much, way too fucking much and you mewl—to which Jungkook immediately responds, approves of the sound, of your neediness and presses you closer to him, your tits squished against him.

Lips above your ear, he whispers, “would you have called me or would you have let me see?”

He takes both of your wrists into his fist and his other hand goes to your wet hair, smoothing down the strands. You find the gesture calming, calming enough for you to say, “let you see.”

You inhale his scent—wood, vanilla and fabric softener. The fragrance of gentleness.

“Hm, would you have fingered yourself for me?” Jungkook continues, pulling your hair so you look at him. No hint of darkness in his eyes, but tenderness—a healing kind of tenderness that makes you give yourself over to him.

“Yes. More than once.”

Jungkook grunts. Turns you around and flips your skirt to see if you’re wearing any panties. Is met with the bareness of your behind as your choice of underwear for the day is a white thong. Optical illusion.

A quick heartbeat. Dry throat.

He straightens you and presses you back against him—this time from behind. Lips to ear, the same one. You feel the shape of him on your palms. Thick. Big. You roll your eyes back. “On the count of three, you run and hide. If I find you, you get fifteen spanks for wearing panties when I specifically told you not to.” His breathing turns ragged, in sync with yours, the thought of punishing you turning him on.

“What happens if you can’t find me?” You squeeze his full balls and you hear that grunt again, vibrating through you.

“You don’t wanna know. Did you forget I have toys?”

With that, he pushes you and you gaze back at him with horror—a lustful horror that blazes you. What kind of toys does he have? You want to find out, badly enough that you don’t mind misbehaving.

Jungkook begins to count.

You don’t wait until you hear the number three before you run for your life.

Inside the cabin, near the balcony, you bump into Yoongi’s naked chest. And you don’t have time to react before Yoongi scowls down at you, ridding you of any sounds of shock that desire to pour out of you.

“Why the fuck are you wet?” he asks, bracing you with both hands, skimming a glance upon the sight of you.

You panic. “Yoongi, I—”

A creak on the hardwood floors behind you. You round your brows. Will you ever make a decision on your own? Your fate was, again, picked for you. By Yoongi, by Jungkook—who didn’t give you enough time to hide.

Even a tendril of disappointment doesn’t have time to perforate your being because you sense another hand on the ruffle of your dripping skirt.

“Tell me why you didn’t take the second to make sure she was bare for me? You don’t check her holes?”

A deep, indignant murmur. Not expressed towards you, but towards your boyfriend. Yoongi’s scowl deepens, but you smile through your shock—the sun leaking through the clouds—and you sneak a finger along the definition of his abdomen that tenses under your touch. A conveyance that it has begun—that he should play along. You nod your head even, shortly, letting him know it’s okay.

Yoongi relaxes. Drifts his hands to your palms, holds them. Flicks his eyes to Jungkook above your head. Swallows. “She’s a brat that has a mind of her own,” he says and perhaps he’s right. Now you get to be one, at last. “She didn’t even pack her robe. Did she tell you that?”

You freeze. Jungkook fists your skirt.

Lips back to your ear. Heat radiating. You hope Yoongi didn’t see the marks of your breasts on his T-shirt. “Is that right?”

Vigor courses through you. You get to be a brat. And the possibility makes you feel infinitely alive.

“Yes,” you giggle, and when Yoongi gives you an endearing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, you find that safe place you were searching for, that you needed. “I figured I should be naked for the occasion.”

Jungkook scoffs. “And yet you disobeyed me. Do you even use your brain or are you just that horny?”

Your lashes quiver at that, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, feeling stupid, although you know the reason behind your defiance.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He pushes you towards Yoongi until you collide into his chest. If your panties weren’t drenched from the pond, his manhandling would’ve taken care of that already. “Turn her around and strip her.”

You panic. Fear that Yoongi will see your tits on his T-shirt. Noticing your emotions, Jungkook understands. Pinches the back of his shirt and flings it on the back of the couch. Broad shoulders, big pecs, deeply defined abdominal muscles and the lines of his V leading into his intimate parts. No happy trail. Jungkook smiles at your relief. Your body flutters.

Yoongi’s hands grasp the hem of your soaked top and swiftly pull it over your head, making your full breasts bounce from the impact. He can’t help but knead them, face nuzzling into the crook of your forest-scented neck to pepper kisses there, and you catch the protest in Jungkook’s eyes—only to watch it dwindle away with the slow realization that he can’t tell your boyfriend not to touch you.

It makes you whimper. And the licks of Yoongi’s tongue and harsh kisses merely heighten that sound.

He continues as his hands find the waistband of your skirt and drag it down your hips until it plops onto the floor. And to fully present you to him at last, he hooks his thumbs under your thong—at which Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. Walking towards you, he kneels before you and Yoongi blows on the traces of saliva he left on the side of your neck. Shivers, ones that Jungkook smooths down on your thighs to calm you down before he rips your panties in one motion.

If Yoongi wasn’t holding you, you’d fall to the floor—your legs boneless, jelly.

Like a leaf out in the forest, your ruined thong plummets to your feet. Jungkook lifts your ankle, helping you step out of it. Throws the scrap on top of his T-shirt, perhaps as a keepsake.

He doesn’t rise. Gazes upon your cunt, instead. Upon the glistening of your folds and lips, the swollenness of your clit. You part your legs wider for him. In appreciation, he looks up at you and strokes the back of your knee. Pupils dilated, the black swallowing the brown. And when Yoongi presses his length against you, pinches your nipples and you roll your eyes back, your attention stolen, Jungkook rises to his feet.

Licks his fingers and places them on your clit, starting a speedy series of circles—and you can’t catch your breath. Not when Yoongi rolls your nipples under his digits, not when Jungkook narrows his eyes at you and commands, “apologize.”

The pleasure overwhelms you so fast and you can’t speak. Can’t for the life of you remember how to apologize and what for, especially not when you grind your ass against Yoongi’s length and he grunts into your ear, not when you’re aware of the quickening of Jungkook’s breath.

Briefly, Jungkook speeds up his pace before he plunges the same wet digits into your hole. Doesn’t let you adjust, but instead keeps filling you to the brim. Then, with the same rapidness, he fucks you.

And you can’t stop yourself from coming and drenching his hand. The second fastest orgasm of your life. Your drops of essence are added to the pile of chunks of dry mud, grass and the pond water dripping from your hair on the floor.

Jungkook withdraws, completely. And you feel cold without his heat, without his closeness. “Why did you come?”

Yoongi begins to focus on your earlobe and you perceive the smug, proud smirk on his mouth. You don’t know what to say—beyond overwhelmed, beyond fucked out. All you know is that you don’t have enough, that you need more, that you hated how quickly your orgasm came upon you.

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s hands gently and rearranges them. The right one on your cunt, the left one on your jawline. To your surprise, he lets him. Something about that coaxes a string of your wetness to trickle down your thigh.

Yoongi’s hold on your chin is rough, causing a litany of soft mewls to spill out of your mouth as you wait for the next move. Needy, horny. And your mewls turn into loud moans that waft out into the forest when Jungkook grips your tits, pushes them together and licks against both of your nipples, your whole body fluttering, trembling, weak and stimulated. Yoongi begins to rub your clit and Jungkook catches you go cross-eyed, stifling his chuckle, but smiling at you regardless.

Drawing close to you until your bare, wet nipples come into contact with his skin, he glimpses at your mouth once before boring his eyes into yours. “Apologize,” he says lowly. “Apologize for wearing panties.”

Yoongi squeezes your cheeks, puckering your mouth, despite the fact this is something you only do together. Then, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and kisses you softly, owning you entirely. The puffy tenderness of his mouth, the gentleness which he pressed that kiss with—Yoongi squeezes your cheeks even harder, opening your jaw, giving Jungkook the green light to use his tongue and you’re gone.

You’re gone when Jungkook swipes his tongue on top of yours. Gone when he toys with it, swirls around it for a moment before closing his lips around yours, kissing you deeply—the smacking sound so loud in your ears, so delicious that you moan, losing your strength to stand and sagging a little bit in Yoongi’s arms.

“Fuck,” you utter once he lets you breathe and even through the hypnosis, the hot flashes signaling the upcoming of your second orgasm and the blurriness of your vision, you can see how much that kiss affected him.

Softening glossy eyes, features loosening—smirk wiped clean, unbelief, wooziness and arousal in its place instead. Mouth parted, puffy, shiny with saliva. A beautiful, extraordinary sight.

“She can’t apologize, but she can swear,” Jungkook comments, but it doesn’t reflect the turmoil happening on the inside of him. And it doesn’t explain what he does next.

He kisses you again. More gently than before. A slight whirl of tongue around yours before he closes his lips against you all over again. Although this time, he doesn’t stop. He pinches your nipples with his fingers, over and over, while moving his mouth against yours, a slow ripple of the pond behind you if there ever was one. And you feel the heat, the sweat coating your body and you feel Jungkook feeling you come. You don’t have to make a sound. He knows.

Your orgasm is a deep current moving through you. Like that kiss. You lose yourself in it, eyes rolled back into darkness, fluttering to and fro—from light to dark—and when you resurface, you find Jungkook’s cavernous, enthralled gaze fixed on you, fixed on the forging process of your orgasm taking roots in you.

Yoongi lets you drop to the floor, breathless. Jungkook shoots him a dirty look, but you reach for the button of his pants, not caring. He stops you with a gentle grasp of your wrist. Bends to your level.

“You’re not sucking dick. Not mine, not his,” Jungkook snarls, helping you stand to your feet. Hooks an arm under your knees and back and lifts you into his arms—carries you upstairs, without any other words spared.

He sets you on the bed. Gently cleans your feet with a wet cloth and when he’s done, he takes a seat on the white rocking chair across from you. Palms his length briefly before he manspreads, propping his elbows on his thighs like he did at dinner. Once Yoongi arrives, he pats your head and caresses your hair, an apology for letting you fall. You’re on the verge of tears.

Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Fifteen spanks from him for wearing panties. Fifteen more from me for not apologizing. To me.”

Yoongi never spanked you. You recognize it’s as much of a punishment for him as it is for you. They haven’t been friends for a day. Jungkook must be very well aware of Yoongi’s disliking of any impact play. He might like to make you cry during sex, but he never uses violence to do so. He uses his words, his dominance and his length.

Jungkook is teaching him a lesson for letting you drop to the floor. And it coaxes an onrush of foreign emotions to swarm within you. You’re touched. Deeply, deeply touched.

So much that you don’t take in the fact you’re getting spanked thirty times.

Yoongi scowls and you’re sick of seeing it. Getting on your knees, you wait for him to sit down. He remains standing.

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Sit down, hyung.”

Power play. He has no business ordering him around and calling him hyung while at it. Has no business to be in control when he’s the bull. Your essence sticks to your thighs.

“I’m not spanking her,” Yoongi mutters. “Do it yourself.”

Jungkook leans back, a finger to his temple. Darkness soaks him in heat and he shines, dimly. “You allowed it to happen, so you punish her. For me.” In other words: You dropped her, so you’re getting punished.

Yoongi has no other choice. You can see the defeat wrung into his face and he doesn’t look at his friend as he sits down. You do.

And the look you share should mangle your heart, but it doesn’t. You should feel bad that you’re on his side and not on Yoongi’s, but you don’t.

Purposefully, you angle your pussy so Jungkook has a perfect view of her as you crawl on Yoongi’s lap. One leg on the mattress, the other in the middle of his thighs—

“Lie down,” Jungkook orders and you listen, immediately, plopping down on Yoongi’s lap, making him gasp.

Yoongi cages you in. Pushes you farther towards his back, but you fight against it. You want to look at Jungkook when you’re getting spanked by your boyfriend for the first time, and so you twist your torso to the side. Just in time to catch a sunray penetrating his aura of darkness, enkindling him softly.

With his hand wrapped around his still clothed cock, Jungkook nods at Yoongi. You didn’t even realize he was waiting for his signal. Your pussy drools. Jungkook squeezes his girth in response.

The first spank is tender. And so is the second and the third. Jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple, but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

Fourth and fifth—it gains a small amount of intensity, barely. Sixth and seventh, he rubs both of your cheeks as if it hurt, when in reality it was a caress to you.

Jungkook slowly blinks at you, telling you to be patient through that gesture.

Because it’s the tenth one that makes you gasp. The prickling pain coursing through your body, pooling at your core—your core that shows him how much you liked that sharp spank. Jungkook smiles, proven right.

Yoongi’s breath shakes. His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Harder,” Jungkook mutters, his own breath quick, eyes never leaving yours. “For the last five. And faster.”

Yoongi obeys. Your moans grow in volume with each spank, your bottom painted in faint red. Yoongi quickly pulls you up to face him, brushing your hair away from your face.

“You liked that?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flicking between yours, looking for any hint of discomfort.

You nod. “I need—” Him, you don’t say. You can’t.

The rocking chair creaks. Jungkook walks towards you. You twist your body again to meet him halfway and he caresses your cheek, rewarding you. You go to turn your body wholly, but Jungkook stops you, holding you steady by the waist. While you still straddle Yoongi, knees on either side of his thigh, he gently prompts you to lift up your bum against him, arching your back, tits in Yoongi’s face.

“Stay like this,” he whispers into the waterfall of your hair and as you rub your cheeks against his manhood slowly, he hums, pressing a deep kiss onto your scalp. “Hold onto his shoulders.”

You do as he says. As if Yoongi knows something you don’t, he latches his hands onto the back of your knees, clamping you down on the mattress.

The first spank causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, pain so acute striking your body like flashes of lightning. And unlike Yoongi, Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps spanking you, each hit harder and more painful than the one before and you lose count of how many you’ve taken. You grip Yoongi’s good shoulder with all your might, wrapping your other hand around his neck.

You like the pain. You like the pain so much that you stay still. And because of that, Jungkook tilts your chin so you can look at him, coming to your side and propping a knee on the mattress. You see amusement and amazement swimming in his eyes when you finally open yours, dazed. He smiles at you, softly and tenderly. And you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss.

Jungkook willingly obliges. Gives you a deep peck full of meaning that you don’t know the language of yet—and it sinks down your body, makes a bed there. The coldness of his lip ring turns you whiny. Jungkook kisses you over and over again, just to hear your sounds.

Yoongi is red when you glance down at him. He’s at loss for words and there’s a puzzling look to his face that you don’t want to decipher.

“Five more,” Jungkook whispers, tracing the outline of your abused, sensitive ass. “Can you handle five more? You’ve taken it so well so far.”

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and the fact you asked for it makes both of the males still. Jungkook sneaks a hand between your legs and circles your hole, gathering your arousal, teasing you, finding you wetter than before.

Yoongi begins to suck on your nipples. And when Jungkook finishes his punishment faster than you anticipated or even noticed, your bum burning, you could come like this—but you don’t. Jungkook sticks his tongue down your throat, does what Yoongi does on your nipple and you begin to tremble, making a mess on Yoongi’s thigh.

As if pitying the abuse, Jungkook kneels before you and peppers gentle, wet kisses on the red flecks of your disobedience, making it right, healing it. Careful with his lip ring, careful not to suck on the skin.

Then, he places a singular kiss on your clit, making you shiver. Stands to his feet. Walks over to his dresser. “Both of you lean back against the headboard. You against his chest. Keep her legs open, hyung.”

You hiss at the change of positions, your cheeks hurting, even when Yoongi places a pillow underneath your butt. It worries him, your expression of pain and he tries to alleviate it by kissing you. There’s so much difference to the way he does it that it makes you emotional, drags you deeper into the madness of your hypnosis.

“You enjoyed that?” Yoongi asks, knuckles brushing against the side of your face, as if he truly can’t believe you enjoyed the inflicting of pain.

And you’d want it again, if your skin wasn’t so sore.

“I loved it, Yoongi.”

Shock flares in his eyes and you look away.

Jungkook crawls upon the bed with a pink toy in his hand. A small egg with a small gap in the top half. You smile at him, excitement surging in you, and he reciprocates it. Lifts your leg to your shoulder and Yoongi holds it in place.

“Butt hurts?” Jungkook asks, noticing the pillow, and you nod. “Good.”

You laugh, softly.

Placing a hand on your mound, covering it entirely, he brushes his thumb across your cunt, checking your arousal, spreading it on your clit. Doesn’t think there’s enough, which you find ridiculous, and he spits on her, making you moan. Turns the toy on.

“Spit on her again,” you command, grinding your hips, feeling the trail go down to your hole.

Jungkook smirks at you. “Filthy girl.”

Bends to your cunt and spits at her again, tongue darting out to lightly keep the liquid love, where he wants it to be. And you mewl, welcoming his tongue on your clit, and you yearn for more, lifting your pelvis even though it hurts, but Jungkook withdraws. Places the toy on it, thumb clicking on the intensity, rising it, rising it high so much that you widen your eyes—

It sucks on your clit.

You cry out, pleasure seizing you in its grasp and all you can do is close your eyes and feel it. It paralyzes you, takes your breath and—

“Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I know it feels good, but I’m not letting you have it until you look at me.”

He takes the toy away. You grip his tattooed arm, opening your eyes.

“Please, Jungkook—”

He doesn’t listen to your plea. Lifts your other leg. Doesn’t give it to Yoongi—keeps his hand there, nice and firm. Begins to concentrate on the back of your thigh, leaving behind wet marks of red and purple, tongue sliding on the skin before he sucks on it, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You grab a hold of his hair. Soft, so silkily soft, short and healthy. You imagine the tiny petals on the weeping willow outside have the same softness.

You’re spellbound. Jungkook places the toy back on your clit, pleasure flooding you—now more fervent and extreme, with his puffy lips still sucking your skin in tandem. And hearing your moans, Jungkook fires them back at you, setting your body ablaze.

“That’s it. Keep looking at me,” he husks and Yoongi squeezes your other thigh, kissing your hair, reminding you he’s here with you. But he’s not the one who moans along with you. It’s Jungkook. Your eyes lid, but you try your hardest to keep them open, your feverish body swaying, the nearness of your orgasm at hand. “Yes, like that. I’m gonna make you come for me.”

Letting go of your thigh, he sinks the two of his fingers inside your heat, gasping along with you. Stuffing you to the brim like he did before, he doesn’t have to fuck you fast to bring you over the edge. He moves the toy from side to side—and it’s the feeling of fullness, the twist of his features as if he was the one pleasured that makes you come all over his hand, the pillow and the bedding.

It’s like being submerged under the water of the pond and you keep your eyes open the entire time, the endearment on his face and his attentiveness taking care of you, watching over you as he talks you through your orgasm.

“Don’t hold back for me, yes, take it, baby. Good, so good, I know,” he says it in such undertones that you sob, emotions rushing out along with your release, trickling out of your tear ducts. You feel so safe and so well taken care of, so content that you don’t shy away from your feelings. You let both males be witnesses to it.

It’s Jungkook first, who reacts. Brows knitted, he wipes your tears away. And it’s him who decides to take a break.

“Let’s eat lunch.”

Your focus is enveloped around him so tightly that you don’t even know how your boyfriend reacted to your tears. You don’t feel him when he lets go of your leg and stands up to his feet to dress. It’s Jungkook who cleans you and checks the redness of your ass if there are any bruises.

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you as he goes down the stairs.

And it’s you who feels defeated now. And when Jungkook looks at you, he knows.

BACK to masterlist / READ part one

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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taegularities · 10 months ago

Text

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, ��Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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yok00k · 11 months ago

Text

LOVE.

pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk

genre: fluff, smut

“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”

Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog

warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)

Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.

Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.

Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .

“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.

‘How cute’ I thought.

While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.

“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.

After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.

“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’

“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.

“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.

“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.

Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.

The things that my mind urges me to do.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.

I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.

“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.

―୨୧⋆ ˚

“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.

“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.

and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.

#jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #hello kitty #jungkook fanfiction #jk smut

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roosterforme · 8 months ago

Text

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on.

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy.

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it.

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves.

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed.

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine.

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

--------------------------

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once.

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot.

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting.

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number.

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside.

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was.

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing.

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation.

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

-----------------------

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me."

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her.

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

-----------------------

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner.

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry.

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out.

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her.

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch.

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from.

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea."

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod.

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked.

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

--------------------------

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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n1ght0f-nyx · 2 months ago

Text

woven bonds pt 3

pert'ah x fem reader

over the last few weeks of living with your arranged orc husband, you start to grow comfortable with him, curious about his culture

tags/warnings- arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your starting to develop feelings for big man

also feel free to request non-woven bonds related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support ive gotten over the last month!

word count-1471

The forest around Pert'ah’s hut had started to feel familiar to you. The once oppressive canopy of trees, with their towering trunks and rustling leaves, now seemed to whisper secrets of their own, ancient and comforting. You spent more time outside, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the branches, how the world around you moved with a calm rhythm that you were only now starting to understand.

Pert'ah, as usual, worked diligently nearby, his large hands carefully guiding a bundle of thread through the wooden loom. The patterns he wove—so intricate, so delicate—fascinated you. Though you had watched him for weeks now, there was something different about the way you felt today. The walls you had built inside yourself, those walls of anger and sorrow, were beginning to erode. In their place was curiosity.

You found yourself wondering how he could create such beauty with hands that looked like they were made for something else entirely. You wondered about him, about his past, about the life he lived before you were forced into this arranged marriage. The thought of learning more made your heart beat a little faster.

Gathering your courage, you stepped closer to him.

“Pert’ah?” you asked quietly, watching as his broad shoulders tensed for just a second before he turned to look at you, his deep-set eyes widening slightly in surprise. You weren’t sure you had ever spoken his name with such softness before.

“Yes, [Name]?” he responded, his voice calm but filled with the kind of hope that made your chest tighten. His hands paused on the loom, waiting for what you had to say.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the weaving. “Can you… can you teach me how to do that?”

For a brief moment, you worried that maybe your question was too sudden, that he wouldn’t want to share something so personal. But the way Pert’ah’s face lit up erased all your doubts. His smile was wide, his tusks just barely showing as his eyes softened with warmth.

“You want to learn?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. He quickly stood up, brushing his hands on his simple tunic as if trying to prepare himself. “I teach! Yes, yes. Come sit.”

You moved to sit beside him, feeling a little self-conscious at first. His hands, so much larger than yours, gently guided your fingers to the loom, showing you how to thread the yarn through with care. He spoke softly, explaining the different colors and patterns orcs used, and how each design had a meaning tied to it—family, nature, strength. You could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of orc culture, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the same resistance you once had.

As you worked together, your hands moving awkwardly through the motions he showed you, you found yourself laughing at your mistakes. Pert’ah chuckled beside you, his deep laugh resonating in your chest like a low rumble. There was no judgment in his gaze, only patience.

“You do good,” he said, nodding in approval as you finally managed to weave a few rows without getting tangled in the threads. “Better than first time I try.”

You grinned, feeling a strange sense of pride in his praise. “Thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know weaving could be so… peaceful.”

He nodded. “It is. Make me feel calm. Like world slow down when I work. Orcs… we no always fight. We build. We make.”

You found yourself wanting to know more. The orcs had always been painted as brutish, war-hungry creatures in your world, but everything about Pert’ah contradicted that. He was an artist, a craftsman.

“Is that why you became a weaver?” you asked, genuinely curious now. “Because it brings you peace?”

Pert'ah tilted his head, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Yes. My father, he was warrior. Wanted me to fight too. But I no like it.” He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if remembering something. “I not good at hurting. I better at making things. I want to create, not destroy. So I leave fighting. I make my own path.”

There was something in the way he said that, a quiet strength, that resonated with you. He had chosen to go against the expectations of his people, to find his own place in the world, and that took a kind of bravery you hadn’t expected from him.

You found yourself smiling again, a small, genuine smile. “I think that’s… admirable,” you said softly, feeling warmth spread through your chest as you spoke. “You’ve built something beautiful here.”

Pert’ah’s eyes flickered with surprise at your words, and for a moment, you thought he might not know how to respond. But then, his expression softened, and he looked at you as though you had just given him a gift.

“I glad you see,” he said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “I make it for us. For you.”

There was something in his gaze—something so tender and full of hope—that made you feel a strange flutter in your chest. You had seen that look before, but now, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. In fact, it made you feel… safe.

The days that followed were filled with quiet moments like this. You and Pert’ah spent more time together, talking, learning about each other in a way that felt natural. You asked him about his art, about orc traditions and stories, and he answered each question with a kind of reverence, as though he cherished the opportunity to share these things with you. And the more you learned, the more you realized how wrong your people had been about the orcs.

They weren’t savages. They had a rich culture, full of art and history. Pert’ah had once shown you a collection of his tapestries—each one telling a different story of orc ancestors, their triumphs and losses. You could see how much pride he took in preserving these traditions, and it made you want to learn more.

One afternoon, as you both sat by the fire, you found yourself asking a question you hadn’t dared to before.

“Pert’ah… why did you agree to this marriage?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “Why me?”

Pert’ah looked at you, his eyes softening as he considered your question. He was silent for a moment, then he sighed deeply.

“I no want you be sold,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I no think it right. But when your father come… he say it bring peace between our people. I think… maybe, if we together, we no have to fight anymore. Maybe we find way to live better.”

He paused, his gaze lowering to the fire. “But more than that… I see you. When I first meet you, I see sadness in your eyes. I think maybe… I can make it go away. I want make you happy.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a deep ache in your chest—not from anger or resentment, but from something else. You realized then that Pert’ah hadn’t just seen you as a human, as someone different from him. He had seen you as a person, someone who was hurting, and he had wanted to help.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on his, your fingers gently brushing against his rough skin. He looked up at you, surprise flashing across his face, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Pert’ah’s grip tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You no need thank me,” he murmured. “I do because… I care for you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and for the first time since your marriage, you felt a real connection between the two of you—a bond that had nothing to do with politics or peace treaties. It was something deeper, something real.

As the fire crackled beside you, you found yourself leaning just a little closer to him, your head resting against his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, as if unsure of what to do, but then he relaxed, his arm gently wrapping around you in a way that felt natural, protective.

In that moment, you knew you were falling for him. You weren’t just coming out of your shell—you were opening your heart. And with each passing day, you found it easier to see Pert’ah not as the orc you had been forced to marry, but as the man who had shown you kindness, patience, and a love that was growing stronger with every beat of his heart.

And you were ready to let that love in.

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bluesylveon2 · 1 year ago

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The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones.

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after."

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad.

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed.

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think.

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her.

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver.

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her.

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them.

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten.

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan.

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence.

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding.

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls.

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush.

"I think he was exaggerating."

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up.

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down.

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer.

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him.

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out.

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know.

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull.

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp.

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him."

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent.

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs.

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry.

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes."

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there."

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it.

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them.

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright.

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room.

"So, Yuu, can you cook?"

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy.

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile.

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness.

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #general lilia #general lilia x reader #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader

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moodriingz · 10 months ago

Text

Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

Part two

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting.

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body.

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help.

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest.

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond.

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back.

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias.

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water.

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours.

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him.

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles.

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping.

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby.

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy.

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood.

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls.

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night.

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun.

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date.

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you.

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #Spotify

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 11 months ago

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?

Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you.

Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning.

He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words.

Because it was not going to be an easy discussion.

Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days.

So, he decided to start with the easier audience.

“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn’t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”

Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it.

But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty.

“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him.

But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them.

“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”

Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.

Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up.

Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you.

“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?”

“Fine,” he responded, his voice low.

“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.”

“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.”

“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.

As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share.

“Thank you.”

You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope.

“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”

The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince.

Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces.

“Jake?”

“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip.

You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened.

“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”

You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”

“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up.

“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can.

“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze.

“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”

“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”

“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“

“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”

“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly.

“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”

“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you.

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”

“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again.

“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”

“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.

“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”

“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”

“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."

"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.

"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"

"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.

“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”

“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”

“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up.

“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”

“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you.

“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."

“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”

“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”

“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments.

“Why do we need protection from your parents?”

“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”

“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.

“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you.

“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?"

“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”

Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.

“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”

Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you.

“Where are you going?”

“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”

“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.

“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip.

“But you’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”

“Wait—”

You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway.

“Don’t follow me.”

The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head.

~~~~~

Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear.

“Jake?”

“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off.

“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.

And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.

If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.

“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”

“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What set her off in the first place?”

“We were talking about my family.”

Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound.

“She took her car?”

“Yes.”

“What direction did she head in when she left?”

“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”

“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway.

“What?”

“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.

Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.

As did Jake.

“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”

“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly.

The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment.

“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Alright,” was all Jake replied.

“Bye, Jake.”

Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house.

“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.

“It’s going to be alright.”

~~~~~

Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.

It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship.

Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.

Jake,

I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit.

I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts.

I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name.

I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.

Love,

Mom

Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around.

Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks.

Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down.

~~~~~

You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts.

Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks.

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hadesnumber1daughter · 10 months ago

Text

Pretty like the sun

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Apollo daughter OC (she classes as an oc cause I gave her a name but you can just read it like your name or Y/N if you want, I just feel better when I'm writing and the characters have names :)

Summary: Percy has always felt something for you, something that you had felt aswell. These quests of life and death finally knocked some sense into you two.

Warnings: Blood, Pain, Agony, Violence, Weapons, Wounds, Wound treating, Curse words, Oblivious idiots, Fluff, Angsty??, Sexual tension, Mutual pining, Almost death, Non-Canon, Hugs, Kisses, Holding hands, Ooc Percy??? Cerberus as a violent dog (ik she isnt really but this is my imagine so idc), Not proof-read, GUT-WRENCHING LOVE, IDK how i wrote this considering I've never been in a relationship OR have ever had an actual crush in my 16 sad years of life

Words: 6.3k

Notes: This is my first imagine so I'm sorry if its bad😭😭. Also if anyone would be willing to give me a few pointers when it comes to working this app as a creator please do cause, yeah I've been using this app for years but I have no idea how to use it when it comes to posting things. I would be very grateful. ❤️❤️❤️. Also, if anyone wants to request something else for me to write I would love to write something for either Percy or Luke, I'll probably make a list of people who I'm willing to write for later today cause it is 10am rn and I haven't slept so I'll just go bed after this 😭😭😭

As soon as percy got handed this quest, with Grover being part of the cloven council and Annabeth being gone to spend time with her family, Percy knew his immediate first choice would be Aurora, there was no doubt about it. The Apollo girl had a spark about her that has drawn him in the second he laid eyes on her.

He had deemed it because she was a daughter of Apollo so there would always be some sort of light that would draw him in, but he hasnt been very sure of that for a very long time. Every time he laid eyes on her, it felt as though time stood still and she was the only source of light and happiness in this dark, gloomy world.

They had became extremely close when he first came to camp, she taught him the ropes in archery as to put it plainly, he was absolutely shit at it. He had no aim and his stance was awful, in her own words.

When she first said that to him, he wanted to throw her in a dumpster, but then he saw her, he properly saw her. He didnt know what Aphrodite looked like, but he was sure she would be a spitting image of the girl. He was even more sure that she was a daughter of Aphrodite but instead she was not, which made sense as to why she was hanging around the archery booth. From that day forward, she helped him freshen his archery skills, and he helped her with her sword skills.

He has never understood why she wouldnt ask Luke as he was the best swords-man and would probably be a better trainer. However, when he brough it up to her one time her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit and she stated how she was helping him, so he should do that same.

That's how they have ended up here. In the middle of nowhere, trying to find and 'kill' a beast that has been accidently lost and let out from the underworld and send it back. Although quests always have 3 people on them, the oracle specifically stated that this was only a 2 person job. Percy had never been so sure in picking Aurora at that moment in time.

🌊

"Are you sure we are going the right way Perce, I swear I've seen this tree 3 times already" Aurora stated this time taking a dagger and marking said tree with an X so if they do cross it again, she would be right.

"You never trust my navigation skills sunshine, why is that, is it cause you always get lost in my eyes" he says turning to look at her with a smug smile on his face. The girl abruptly stopped at his turn and could feel the blood rush to her cheeks in that moment, her honey-brown eyes immediately locked with his water coloured eyes and she broke the gaze, not letting him have the satisfaction of being right.

"You wish seaweed brain" she muttered and walked past him knocking into his shoulder in the process which led to him letting out a dramatic gasp.

"That hurts sunshine. Where are you going, it's getting dark, we should stop, set up camp and get some rest so we can re-think and re-strategize." The girl slowly stops her steps and turns her back to the boy who is standing there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed giving her a cocky glance that makes her want to die and kill him at the same time.

The two had a stand-off for a bit before one decided to speak up.

"As long as I don't have to scavenge this creepy forest for wood then its fine by me" the girl said walking back to him while his eyes following her every movement till she was a few steps away from him. The girl went to grab something from her pocket with her left hand and with her right, she grabbed the boys arms and dragged her hand down it, to his hand which automatically opened up. She placed something cold into it with her left hand.

He looked at her and she had a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen for the past 12 hours, looking to his palm, he was a coin. Not just any ordinary coin or ordinary drachma. It was a coin from sea life, the one coin they give to one another which can be used for many thing, they talked it over before the quest. The coin can only be used for 2 things during this quest, to make sure the other doesnt die, or the person who has been handed the coin has to do what the person giving the coin wants no matter what.

He looked up at her with a confused look but seeing the mischief in her eyes gave enough away. Sighing he pocketed the coin and stepped away from the tree which only left 3 steps in-between the two.

"What do you want me to do" not even bothering arguing.

"I want to see you fail at making a fire" she said just giving him the brightest smile, basically oozing sunlight from her. The boy felt like a deer stuck in headlights in that moment, he almost forgot the reason for her heavenly smile. He wanted to tell her he loved her right there and then, that he could never get enough of her, that he searched for her in every room he ever walked into, that she was the one and only constant source of light in his life, that she was the sun and he would orbit her in every universe no matter how close he got, no matter how much it destroyed him. He was utterly inconsolable without her. He loved her.

"Aurora" the boy started to say, in a serious tone which immediately made the girl's smile falter as she looked into his eyes, he didnt need to say anything. His eyes spoke more words than he would have liked, enough for the girl to get the message and understand him. All of the glances, the subtle touches, the comfort of each other like no other. She felt and understood it all.

He was about of continue when a roar sounded, echoing in all directions and rustling the trees. The two could hear the howl of Cerberus all around them. Percy immediately uncapped riptide while Aurora unclasped her bracelet which turned into a bow and an unlimited supply of arrows.

The both circled back to back, covering each others blind spot like muscle memory. They could feel the ground shake with each step the otherworldly creature took.

"How are we going to do this?" the girl asked while keeping an eye on all of her surroundings.

"You distract with your arrows as they are long-range and while she's focused on you, I'll go for the kill shot"

"She can't die" she could feel him rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth.

"You know what I mean"

They could hear the low growl from the side of them. The three-headed beast emerged in all its glory with its 6 menacing eyes ready to rip these two teens to shreds and send the wrong beings in this equation to the underworld. Percy turned to stand next to Aurora and the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed to which he immediately responded. There were many unspoken words that had been said in the past 10 minutes and this was another addition 'dont die, be safe, come back to me'.

Slipping through her fingers, his hand left hers and quietly stalked away before the beast could get any idea there were 2 of them. Wishing the best for the boy, she instantly got the dogs attention by shooting an arrow at the middle head's nose.

It did not like that.

They all barked at once and got ready to run at the girl. She didn't like to admit it but she was fucking terrified. Cerberus ran at her and she leapt to the side and ran as fast as she could not looking back until she could feel he's a little away from her. She got another arrow ready in her bow and blindly shot it behind her.

She heard a small whimper which brought a smirk to her face but that was immediately wiped away as she heard the barking intensify. Hiding behind a tree the girl caught her breaths and looked for the hound and she couldnt spot it or Percy. She got another arrow ready and looked behind the tree once again but was faced with the thing she was hunting.

Fear spread to every part of her body and she had no time to brace the impact as the dog clawed the tree which in return clawed her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was flung into another tree. The bark from the destroyed tree splintered her, her head hit against a tree on impact and the large gash on her side felt like a fire that was melting her skin off. The girl felt her breath stick in her throat, she felt as though she was dying as immense pain filled her and black spots invaded her vision. Only one other thing was on her mind.

Percy.

The ocean eyed boy lost sight of Cerberus immediately as it began to chase Aurora, his Aurora. He followed as fast as he could not wanting anything bad to happen to the girl he loved before he got any chance to be with her, to confess and to just live a life content with his feelings.

As he heard, the whoosh of Aurora's arrows increase, he could feel himself being uncapable of keeping up with the beast from the underworld and he cursed himself for it. He lost sight of Cerberus and it scared him, it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the creature or the girl he loved.

His heartbeat quickened as he looked all around him trying to see a glimpse of either of them.

Then all blood drain out of his face when he heard the one sound he wished he did not have to hear, ever. Aurora's scream made his heart almost leap out of his chest. He didnt know what to do, he didnt know where she was, he couldnt see the hound, its his fault, she going to die because of him.

She most certainly is going to die if you dont get a fucking move on, that one voice in his head said. And he pushed all the doubts to the back of his head and focused on 2 things. Defeating Cerberus and finding Aurora.

He could hear the three-headed dogs footsteps and instantly ran to it. It didnt see him coming and it's tail was on the ground so he didnt the best thing he could think of. He ran up the tail onto the body of the beast.

This elicited loud barking from the beast and Percy could only do one thing. Repeatedly stab the dog until it dissolved.

Now... admittedly, this was not a good strategy. It was fucking awful. There was no thought to his stabs, they all just angered the beast and considering she was quite resistance to stabs, it wasnt helping. He was just tiring himself out.

He then has the genius idea of stabbing the beast in the eye, or eyes. He started with the left head. The beast let out a large whimper, and stumbled which cause the boy to almost loose his grip on it. He wasnt going to stop now, he needed to send Cerberus back and get to Aurora.

Aurora. Her scream was echoing in his mind. Bouncing around his skull like he has no brain inside, only her gut-wrenching scream.

He subtly shook his head. As much as he was dreading where she was and if she was okay. He needed to secure Cerberus and he needed all attention to so it as fast a possible to get back to his sunshine.

He then stabbed riptide into both the right heads eyes. Percy knew what to expect this time so he braced himself and held on as tight as he could. He could not fail now. He was too close.

The dog slumped onto the floor which made percy's last task much more easier. With agility and caution the boy leapt onto the middle head and punctured the eyes out which evoked a whimper which made the boy feel bad for the animal and it slowly turned to dust.

In an instant the boy caught his breath and his mind raced with only one thing.

Aurora.

"Aurora! Sunshine! Where are you?" The boy felt as though he could not breathe. His head was spinning trying to find her in the mountains of trees and in the darkness of this forest, he has never needed to see her more now than any other time.

"Aurora! Please if you can hear me make a sound! Anything so I know you're alive" He would never leave her. He would die before he left her to rot in these woods. He would never be able to face the guilt and loss.

"Please! Say SOMETHING" he could feel himself getting frustrated. "HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE" tears welded in his eyes trying to find her.

There was a rustle of leaves from the left side behind him. He was running to the sound before it even registered in the back of his mind. He kept hearing the rustling and a small whimper.

He saw a faint glow of light behind a tree and he held his breath for the sight that was to come. He skidded to a stop and fell on his knees infront of her.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw her. Her face was significantly paler than when he left her and she had a wood splinter sticking out of her thigh and worst of all, the 4 claw marks across her abdomen with blood everywhere, it seemed to have stopped pouring, but it was a nauseating sight to see. He didnt know what to do.

"Aurora, darling, open your eyes" his hands reached her cheeks and his thumb rubbed circled on her cheek and his two fingers made their way to her neck to check her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. It was faint but not too faint to the point it would slip too far out of his grasp.

He reached for his bag on his back to get some first aid supplies, ambrosia and nectar for the girl, when she let out a pained gasp.

The girl had barely an recollection of anything, the only thing on her mind at the moment was the immense pain shooting through her whole body, It felt like she was on fire and couldnt breathe. She wanted to die.

Then her vision cleared and she saw the golden haired boy looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world, he held so much worry in his eyes that she thought for a second if she was already dead and it was her spirit seeing his reaction to her death.

"Gods, Aurora, you're okay. You had be so worried, I was terrified, I cannot lose you. If I lost you I would lose myself" The boy held one hand to her cheek while speaking so intently to her.

In that one moment she could feel his stare, like clockwork, bubble something inside of her. It almost made her forget why she was on the ground, why she could taste something metallic in the back of her mouth, why she couldnt move her right leg. It almost took it away. Almost.

That fire spread throughout her body again and she couldnt stop the wail that left her mouth. The pain was nauseating. A flood of curses left Percy's mouth as he grabbed the bottle of nectar and opened it.

"Okay, sunshine, I know you're in a lot of pain but I'm going to give you some nectar, you need to drink it but you need to sit up a little straighter." The girl immediately shook her head as a no in response to the boy.

"I know. The amount of times we've both had to do it but you know deep down that its the only thing that will fix it." The girl tried to harden her stare at the boy but she was too weak to even look at him properly.

"O-okay, but... I can't" she inhaled sharply as she tried to move the slightest bit. She didn't have to finish her sentence for the boy to understand what she was trying to say. He took one his flannel button ups from his bag, scrunched it up and gave it to her. She could only give him a confused look.

"Put it in your mouth, bite down hard cause I'm gonna move you into the right position and its gonna be a pain. I'm sorry sunshine but I have to." She took it with her shaking hands and was about to put it in her mouth when she smelt it, sea salt and musk, then the girl really looked at what the item of clothing was.

"this is yours" she said in a hoarse voice, looking up at him, confusion plastered all over her features.

"Well I dont exactly know where your bag is so next best thing." he gave her a weak smile and moved closer to her but she weakly grabbed his hand.

"I'm scared" she whispered so pathetically but the boy understood, he knew her. He knew that he needed to keep talking to her, to make sure he is doing something close enough to her for her to know that she's still alive.

He only interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I won't let go, I promise. You aren't leaving me, not after everything we have been through together" the girl's eyes welled with tears but she nodded and stuffed her mouth with Percy's flannel.

He wrapped his arms around her from the side, where he was sitting and placed a kiss in the hair before counting down.

"3...2..." the boy didnt get to 1 before he pulled her up so she was sitting not laying down and with the movement came muffled screams and tears that flowed down the girls face. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she lent into him and he repeatedly kissed her hair or forehead.

"I'm sorry sunshine, I really am. When you're all better I promise you can hit me" he tried to uplift her but she could barely hear him. Her body shook and agony filled her every sense. He couldn't even express the guilt and regret he felt for the girl, immediately grabbing the nectar, and slowly taking his flannel out of her mouth.

"You're doing great sweetheart" he says while slowly pouring the nectar into her mouth. Her head is resting against his shoulder as she swallows the drink down in small sips. After she drank it, Percy put it away and the girl began to close her eyes.

"Hey, hey, sunshine you can't be doing that right now. Come on I need to patch you up and then we need to get back to camp, I'll call blackjack. I know how much you like riding on him" he lifts her head off his shoulder and places her on the tree, but this time sitting up so he has easy access to her abdomen.

She opened one eye and slightly smiled at the boy.

"You're gonna call blackjack?" the girl asked a bit delirious but seemingly in less pain. This brought a instant smile to him as he let out a chuckle, nodding his head while grabbing gauze and 2 bandage rolls.

"I promise I will, but you have to make sure to keep fighting okay. Once this is over, I have something special to tell you" He came loser to the girl and her breath slowed for a moment.

He looked at her abdomen and a thought crossed his head that made blood rush to his cheeks, he was thankful the girl was delirious and it was dark or else he would simply wallow away. He cleared his throat and looked back up to the girl.

"I'm going to have to cut your shirt off so I can access the cuts and clean them properly" he looked into her eyes once but couldnt face her after that.

"okay" she whispered in return, locking her eyes onto his every move.

The boy went back into his bag and grabbed a pair of scissors then faced the girl again. He could feel her watchful eyes on him the entire time and he hated to say it but that small voice in the back of his head was wishing she was a bit more delirious right now so he wasnt under her scrutiny while undressing her. Clearing his throat again, he begins to speak.

"Just tell me when to slow down or when to stop, if it gets too painful for you and I'll stop and slow down, okay" he looked to her for reassurance and an okay, to which she nodded.

He didn't know how to position himself so he just opted for kneeling next to her, facing her. He then grabbed the scissors and started to cut her top. Starting from the bottom to the top. As he reached the first claw mark the girl hissed as the shirt was stuck to the wound due to all the dried blood. Percy automatically stopped what he was doing.

"No, no, keep going, don't stop now otherwise we will never get this done and I can't go back to camp cause I'll be dead" her honey-brown eyes were glossed with tears and the boy just wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time in a place where they aren't fighting monsters all the damn time and in a place where they can settle down, have fun and just enjoy their life like regular teenagers.

"Don't say that so casually, you are not going to die. Not when you have me. Not when I'll always be here for you, patching you up, nursing you back to health forever. I will never in a million years let you die. I swear on the river Styx."

She couldn't say anything to him, he will always render her speechless. She just nodded her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks to which he wiped away and placed a kiss on her forehead. Feeling the warmth off eachother brought a sense of peace to them that no one else could ever fill.

He finished wiping her tears away and then continued cutting her shirt away from the wound. Every time she hissed, winced or flinched, the boy had the overwhelming urge to stop everything he was doing as long as it stopped bring her more pain. Whenever this would happen, the girl would softly squeeze his knee, as her hand was resting there to make sure he was still close to her and was still okay and breathing.

This reassured him immensely but it did not stop him from the guilt that was drowning him. This would not have happened if it wasn't for him. She would not be in this position right now if he just chose someone else to go on the quest with. She had almost died due to his decision making. He chose her, he told her the plan, the plan that put her straight into danger, he didnt even second guess his choice, he put her into the battlefield without even asking her properly. Whatever he said went.

The boy had not realised that during his intense self-loathing session, he zoned out and stopped the task at hand.

"Perce?" the girl asked while bringing her hand from his knee to his bicep. "Are you okay? whats going on in your kelp filled brain?" she said with a half smile as the boy looked up at her.

"Nothing, its okay. Just zoned out for a sec" he replied in an instant, looked away from her and continued to cut her shirt away. He was almost at her breasts and he could feel himself getting a bit hot. Obviously, there was no reason to in this situation but just being so close and intimate to her in a non sexual way made him flustered, he couldn't even imagine of it was in a sex- STOP. He shouted at his brain.

She let out a whimper of pain and a few laboured breaths as Percy carefully peeled her shirt of off the biggest wound she had. Her hand squeezed his knee harder than he would have liked her to but it didnt matter, not anymore, not when he caused this, not when he was the reason for her pain.

He finally got it off the biggest cut and last cut and now he just had to cut the rest of the shirt off. No big deal right?

WRONG.

The boy was telling himself to suck it up and just cut the rest of her shirt off but he was flustered. It was times like this that made him remember he was just a boy. He was just a boy with a silly crush. Except it isnt a 'silly crush' he was utterly in love with the girl. He tried to clear his head and at the same time, cleared his throat while he cut higher.

He could feel her eyes watching him, he could feel how fast her heart was racing and he could feel how fast his own was racing. It was as though their hearts were in sync. Every beat was the same.

Yes the girl felt flustered in this situation, she also couldn't help but want to tease the boy she loved. The girl had always grown up with a life where she never 'loved' anyone, not truly. To her love was always a very strong word in her dictionary but whatever she felt for Percy Jackson it was so powerful she felt as though she needed a word more meaningful than love.

A word that expressed how everytime she thought of him, that specific memory of him will be branded in her brain forever to the point where even Hera could never make her forget him or forget the way he makes her feel.

He makes her feel alive, the most alive shes every felt in her 16 years of life.

"Are you blushing water boy?" the girl asked him with a half smile on her face and eyes half opened as she felt a sharp pain run through her, while also trying to control her own breathing at the same time. Percy didn't respond, he only kept cutting her shirt off, fingers lightly brushing over the material of her bra.

She held her breath when he did that, whether it was on purpose of not, the feeling it sent through her body made her want to repeatedly bash her head against a solid wall while ripping her eyes out... in a good way of course.

Percy finally cut her shirt fully off and it just slid down her arms and bunched at the bottom, near the tree. She felt exposed and could feel the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Percy didn't waste any time and grabbed a clean towel and his water bottle.

Before he could drenched it in water, she stopped him by kicking him with her uncompromised leg to indicate he needed to stop. This instantly stopped him and caused him to look at her.

"Give me the water bottle before you soak the towel, if the water is warm it will work better and not hurt as much so i'll just heat it up" Percy thought about it for a second before he retaliated.

"You already aren't well enough to get off the ground, how on earth are you going to make it back to camp if you drain yourself of more energy. I know its going to hurt but it will either way, but getting you back to camp is the priority at the moment" Percy didnt want to say those words to the girl, he felt so bad for her and he couldn't help but blame himself. And when he looked into her eyes, like really looked into her eyes after he said that, he wished he could take it back.

Just looking at her made him want to give into her.

"I can take it, I promise, I'll be okay enough to get back to camp, but I'm telling you now Percy, if I feel anymore extreme pain, I will just end up passing out. Please just let me do this." she tried to move closer to the boy but forgot about the fact that she literally could not move a single inch without his help.

This just lead the boy to wrap his arm around her back and lent her against the tree again. He looked at her with a stern look.

"Okay, you win. But you have to promise on the river Styx that you will preserve every other bit of your energy for the ride back home."

"I swear on the River Styx that I will preserve every other bit of my energy for the ride back to camp" He gave her one last look before giving her the water bottle. She focused some most of her energy to her hands and they started to glow. She took the bottle from percy's hand and he could feel the warmth radiate off of her.

He looked at her in awe but if anyone else was there they would have told you that the boy was love struck. She opened her eyes and made sure to not boil the water. As it was simmering, she gave the bottle back to the boy and he instantly uncapped it and poured the, now warm, water onto the towel.

"This is going to hurt... a lot, and by a lot i mean a lot, you might want to brace yourself" the boy said as he gave his flannel back to her and some ambrosia for her to eat before they start the painful part of fixing her up.

Aurora took both and muttered a small thanks under her breath before eating the ambrosia which was very pleasant to chew and then stuffed percy's flannel in her mouth again. She felt so weird but if she didnt and someone heard her scream bloody murder, they would get caught and the police would want them... again.

His ocean blue eyes met her honey eyes and he shared a look of regret and guilt before he wiped the dried blood away, starting from the bottom of her abdomen. She instantly clenched her jaw and recoiled as agony ran through her and her hand immediately shot out to grab Percy's wrist in a painfully tight hold to stop him from further cleaning the wounds that caused her pain.

"Sunshine, I know its painful, but I have to do this, I'm going to do this as fast and gently as I can but I will have to be rough at times" he gently takes his freehand to clasp over hers and took it of him and intertwined them while speaking to her.

In his favour, it seemed that the energy it took the girl to warm the water up finally caught up with her as her hand lost most of its grip and her eyes closed slightly. He chuckled slightly and placed her hand back down next to her before continuing what he was doing.

He carefully but efficiently cleaned the areas surrounding her wounds while she was rejuvenating. He would hear muffled noises from time to time but other than that she was essentially knocked out. As he finished she seemed to feel less tired and her eyes opened wider than they did before.

"I'm almost finished sunshine, did you like your nap?" the boy questioned with a smirk but deep down he was glad that she kept her promise and she would have enough energy to go back to camp.

The girl nodded and looked at her abdomen. It was really clean and the wounds were barely bleeding anymore but she was fucking freezing. She shivered a little bit and percy could tell instantly.

"I've just got to bandage you up then you can put a jumper on. Okay?" he reassured her while taking the sterile dressing, he placed it over the 4 slashes and began to unwrap the dressing to bandage her up.

They both soon found the position to be quite awkward.

Percy needed to bandage her whole abdomen which needed him to wrap the dressing over her back but she was lent up against the tree without a shirt on and unable to move to do it herself. He stopped to think of a good way to do this.

"Okay, I've got it. I'll lean you up against me and bandage your abdomen from behind." The girl thought for a bit before she agreed and the boy got up so he was only seen in her peripheral vision. He hooked his arms under hers and moved her along the ground to sit inbetween his legs. The position felt very compromising for both of them but it needed to be done.

She could feel his warm breath on her cold neck and she felt the urge to pass away because if thats how she passed, she would not mind. She held her breath as Percy begun wrapping her abdomen, she could barely feel the pain cause all she could think about and feel was him.

His breath on her neck, his fingers brushing her skin, how carefully he was handling her, like she would break at the wrong touch. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything they both deserved.

He quickly finished wrapping her up and he mentally called Blackjack from where ever he was right now. Before he could move or start to get things sorted he just looked at Aurora. She was peaceful. She looked ethereal under the moonlight, though she did look better under direct sunlight.

He decided to just stay still for a bit and wrapped an arms around the girl loosely as to not injure or hurt her more. They just needed some rest, no matter how long or short it was.

Both Aurora and Percy could hear the flap of Blackjacks wings so he quickly moved the girl back to lean against the tree while he packed everything away. Not before making sure to torniquet the girls leg where the wood piece was still protruding out of it. He made the decision before to not take it out as they both did not know how severe the injury underneath it was.

Percy grabbed a warm, woolly jumper from his bag and a blanket and gave both items to the girl before zipping it up.

"I'm going to find your bag and your bracelet before we leave, and before you say anything. I'm going to call Blackjack here to be with you before I look for them" he stated as he got up.

"Thanks a lot Perce, but before you look, how am I meant to put this jumper on without raising my arms and disrupting my bandages" Percy felt like an idiot. He dropped his bag back on the ground and knelt next to her carefully putting the jumper through one arms hole, then the next, then her head through.

Percy would never admit it there and then but he always loved when the girl would wear his clothes. It sent a warm fuzzy feeling through him knowing she was wearing his clothes, especially when she was willingly wearing his clothes.

Similarly, Aurora would never admit it there but having Percy help her get changed into his clothes and help clean her up made her fall even more in love with him if that was even possible. She felt as though she was just falling into deep pit everytime he did anything for her or even just looked her way.

He finished by wrapping her up in the blanket and chuckled when he saw how she looked... Exactly like a burrito.

Blackjack came down and the girls eyes instantly widened at the sight of the creature. To which the boy just smiled at. Before he left to retrieve her bag and bracelet which were very easy to find. He quickly arrived back to the girl and Pegasus and was met with an adorable sight.

The Pegasus was on the floor next to the girl and was almost hugging her with its wing. Percy didnt think he could fall in love with the girl again but she has gone and proved him wrong, like always.

"I've got your things sunshine, and I know its going to hurt but I'm going to have to pick you up to put you on Blackjack. Is that okay?" He knelt next to her and she nodded.

He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, making sure not to hit the piece of wood and picked the girl up, quite easily, bridal style. It make them both feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even blackjack could feel the warmth.

He placed her sitting on the Pegasus so she would be infront of him when he got on. He then grabbed both of their bags and got onto blackjack himself.

"You'd normally need to hold on tight to blackjack but I'll hold you okay? Just rest" The boy whispered in her ear as he gave her a peck on her cheek while she slowly drifted off and leaned her head back onto the boy's shoulder.

"Blackjack, No crazy flying today. We aren't at war today, its a rest day. Just take us back to camp, quick but not to the point we normally fly." Blackjacks reply left Percy with pink staining his cheeks and they made their way back to camp.

______________________________________________________________

OH MY FUCKING DAYS, I AM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING THIS LONG AGAIN

(such a fucking lie)

But I have to honest, apart from the small mental breakdowns. This was really fun to write. I love these two soo much.

When I went into this, I wanted to actually get them back to camp and I wanted them to confess but it was getting tooooooo long for that so if anyone wants a part 2, I'll gladly make it. Please dont critique me too much, this is still my first imagine 😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️❤️

unless you piss me off

425 notes · View notes

smoooothoperator · 5 months ago

Text

What Was I Made For?

07: Please Please Please

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Charles POV, Sebastian's last appearence (😭)

a/n: Hello there!!! I hope everyone is doing fine! Here's the new chapter!! Charles redemption arc starts now

Masterlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

This race was crucial, not just for me but for the entire team. Securing a podium finish was crucial to keep the second place in the Constructors' Championship. And personally, I needed the win to keep my second position in the Driver's Championship, just 25 points shy.

“Charles, red flag. Red flag.”

The urgency in the voice over the radio cut through my focus like a knife. I frowned, scanning the screens for any hint of what happened, but they remained following the cars that moved in the track.

“What's going on?” I asked, my voice filled with anxiety.

“There's been a crash. Return to the pitlane”

A crash. My heart sank. Who was involved? Why weren't they showing anything on the screens?

“Who crashed?” I asked worriedly, needing to know more.

Silence. The unknown kept me tense as I guided the car back into the pitlane, parking it with a heavy heart. Stepping out, I scanned the pitlane, watching how a chaotic movement started as soon as the rest of the cars were parked, with medics and emergency vehicles going to the track where the incident happened. The air was thick with tension.

“Did you see what happened?” I asked Pierre when I saw him walk towards me.

“Only caught a glimpse of Ocon by the side. Looks like he caused the crash” Pierre sighed, eyes scanning the monitors.

“But who else was involved?” My mind raced, connecting the dots.

Dafne’s Ferrari wasn't in the pitlane.

“Fuck” I muttered, looking at the rest of the cars parked and then at her side of the garage.

Inside, the crew was a crowd of constant activity. Engineers screaming orders, mechanics hurried back and forth between the cars, faces drained of color as they glued their eyes to the screens. Even that guy Dafne had brought along was there, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“What's the situation?” I demanded from Dafne's engineer, my voice strained.

“She's trapped in the barriers” he replied, his attention divided between tasks and his attempts to reach her on the radio.

“How could you let her race? She was ill!” I snapped, the worry for her well-being bubbling into anger. “If I saw it I'm sure you did too! She was pale and this morning she threw up”

“This isn't the first time she got in the car sick” he frowned, defending her. “Not that you care”

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head in frustration, then turned to Fred. His expression said everything before he even spoke a word.

“She's unconscious” he murmured, and my heart sank further. “Not answering”

Unconscious. The word echoed in my mind like a drumbeat. If only they had known she wasn't at her best today. If only...

I forced myself to look away, back towards my own car, catching sight of that guy again. There was something familiar about him. Maybe I'd seen him in photos with Dafne.

Focus, Charles. Focus on the race. For the team.

I tried to clear my mind as the race resumed, pushing aside the bundle of worry and what-ifs that threatened to overwhelm me. Keep a cool head. Execute perfectly. Dafne’s face kept intruding, but I ordered myself to stay focused.

Dafne... Please, be okay. You're strong. You'll pull through.

The race became a blur of speed and strategy, the laps melting into each other until suddenly it was over. I climbed out of my car almost in a daze after I parked behind the signal with the big 2, letting myself be guided towards the podium, where trophies and authorities awaited. But my mind was elsewhere.

“How's Dafne?” I asked Fred, joining the team in the pit lane. “Any news? Is she awake?”

“Her family went with her to the hospital,” Fred's voice was heavy with concern. “She's still unconscious. They're running tests.”

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. The podium awaited, cameras poised to capture the moment of triumph. But there would be no champagne celebration today.

“I won't spray the champagne,” I muttered, setting the bottle aside.

Lando and Max exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and concern.

“Is it about Dafne?” Lando asked quietly, his hand covering his mouth.

“She's still unconscious,” I replied, the weight of worry evident in my voice.

They nodded in understanding, standing silently by my side as we faced the cameras. No cheers, no smiles.

Fuck the championship. I need her to be okay.

Every interviewer asked about her. They needed to know about her.

“I know as much as you do” I always answered, nodding and moving to the next interviewer.

When I finished the interviews, I went straight to the hospitality area, feeling a chill as soon as I walked in. No one was talking. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Her family wasn’t there, and their things were missing from their usual spot during races.

I swallowed thickly, feeling the heavy atmosphere and the weight in my heart. My lips formed a thin line as I nodded to those who came over to pat my back.

“We’ll try again next year” one of my engineers said, smiling weakly. “This wasn’t the race we wanted.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

I went to my room, sitting on the bed and staring at the wall in front of me. An internal battle raged in my mind, but a knock at the door brought me back to reality.

“Hey”

My mom’s voice made me look up. Her sad smile grew closer as she sat next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and leaning on me.

“Do you know anything about her? Did her family call you?” I mumbled, closing my eyes and resting my head against hers.

“She’s still asleep” she sighed. “Several concussions and her wrist might be broken…”

“Shit…” I sighed. “She wasn’t focused on this race. I saw it; she was sick and-”

“Look, Charles” she interrupted, sighing. “Dafne might be a girl, but she’s stronger than any man on the grid. If some of you had a cold or another illness, you’d blame your poor performance on being sick.”

“Mom-”

“No, listen” she insisted. “She’s better than you, and you have to accept that. If you ever suffered the pain she does every month, you wouldn’t drive. And yet, there she is, getting on podiums and earning points.”

“I know…” I sighed. “I know I crossed the line with her, okay? I just want to fix everything. You have no idea how much I regret what I said about her.”

“I think it’s a little late for that, Charles” she said, looking at me. “You had your whole life to fix things…”

I clenched my jaw and looked away, feeling her words hit me like a cold shower.

All my life, I despised Dafne because of the stupid jealousy I felt. Jealousy that made me say awful things and insinuate lies. Jealousy that never let me stop and give her space.

“I have to see her” I whispered, standing up and packing my things into my backpack.

“Charles…”

“No, mom” I frowned. “It’s all my fault, you’re right. I’ve been an idiot, and I know she reported me. I know she doesn’t want to see me, but I need to know if she’s okay.”

She sighed and nodded, smiling weakly. I felt her eyes on me as I tidied the room and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” I sighed, hugging her. “I’ll text you once I know if she’s awake.”

“Just… don’t make things worse.”

I smiled weakly and kissed her cheek before walking out of the room. I looked at her room; it wasn’t empty. Her things were still there, her backpack and clothes neatly folded on the bed. I should probably take them to her, right? Maybe her family rushed to the hospital and forgot her things.

I swallowed thickly as I walked into her room, overwhelmed by her perfume. The same perfume she always wore, the one that lingered in my nose and on my clothes after that night in Monza. I sighed, grabbing her backpack and packing her clothes, laptop, and phone. When I picked up her phone, I saw a picture of her and that guy on the lock screen, holding a cat between them.

I clenched my jaw, put the phone in the backpack, and looked at the picture of her first win on the wall.

“I miss that brown hair” I whispered, looking at her. “I miss your crown.”

I smiled weakly and looked down, slinging her backpack over my arm.

When I walked out of the hospitality, I felt everyone taking pictures and asking about Dafne, snapping shots of her backpack hanging from my arm. I clenched my jaw and walked toward the paddock exit and my car.

Once inside, I put her backpack on the passenger seat and took a deep breath. Her perfume filled the car, bringing back memories of September.

Her skin. Her taste. Her smell. Her touch. Her lips.

“No, no” I groaned, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts. “Idiot.”

I turned on the engine, typed the hospital address into my phone, and drove.

My mind ran through every possible scenario, good and bad. I tried to stay positive, hoping she’d already be awake. Maybe she’d be strong enough to yell at me. I would need it.

When I parked the car, I grabbed my phone and searched for Erica’s number, texting her.

Charles: What’s her room number?

Erica: What?

Charles: Dafne’s room in the hospital.

Erica: Are you for real? What are you going to do?

Charles: Just drop off her backpack. You left it in her room.

Erica: 5.17

Erica: Behave yourself. If she’s awake, she won’t want to see you.

I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, took a deep breath, and grabbed her backpack before getting out of the car.

I ignored the reporters outside the hospital, walked straight to the elevators, and pressed the button for the fifth floor. I got out and found her room, frowning when I saw that guy standing in front of the door.

I clenched my jaw and approached, but as I reached for the handle, he stopped me.

“I think you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he said, making me turn around slowly.

“Excuse me? And who are you?” I frowned. “I just came to bring her backpack.”

“Then give it to me and leave” he said, frowning.

“You didn’t answer my question” I insisted.

“Who I am to Dafne is none of your concern. You’ve done enough damage, Charles” he said. “You should forget her.”

“Is she awake?” I frowned.

“She is. That’s why I said you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he groaned.

I clenched my jaw and placed the backpack on the seat next to him, frowning as I looked back at the door. She’s awake. Good.

“Just… why?” he asked, making me frown.

“What?”

“Why were you so cruel to her? She never did anything to deserve your hate. Do you know how badly you made her look? How many threats she’s received because you got drunk and said all those disgusting things?” he said, making me swallow thickly and look away. “You acted like a kid wanting to be the center of attention. Once the spotlight was off you, you did something stupid to get it back.”

Every word felt like a stab. But I had to stay silent and take it because deep down, I knew I deserved it.

“She locked herself in her office to read all the comments, you know?” he sighed. “I had to listen to her cry while she read everything because she didn't let me walk in”

“You think I don’t know?” I interrupted him. “I regret every word I said. I regret everything I did. But it’s too late to fix things, isn’t it? She hates my guts. She doesn’t want to see me ever again; she made that clear with the lawsuit.”

“And yet you came” he said. “You packed her things and brought them here, knowing you had zero chances of giving them to her.”

I took a deep breath and sighed, looking away.

“If she’s awake, why aren’t you inside?” I asked. “I thought you two were dating.”

“We never did,” he said, with a sad smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure” I sighed.

“You don’t hate her, do you?” he asked. “I noticed the way you looked at us during the weekend. I saw how you looked at her sadly, how you cared for her. I even noticed you grabbing the peaches near her in the fruit basket at the restaurant.”

“She’s allergic to the skin of peaches” I mumbled.

“And I saw you leave her favorite chocolate on her bed” he said. “You don’t hate her.”

“It’s stupid” I sighed, sitting next to him. “I guess you’re right. I am still a kid wanting the Ferrari spotlight. I want the attention…”

“Her attention” he interrupted. “But that never worked, did it?”

I looked at him and sighed, closing my eyes.

Her attention… Maybe.

“I think you should give her time,” he whispered. “Right now, she received some news she didn’t like. I think you should wait, but not too long. Give her time to recover. After all, you two will have to talk at some point”

I sighed and nodded, looking at the door and swallowing thickly. Some news… bad ones? Is she injured? Can’t she race? What is it?

“She’s okay, I promise” he smiled weakly.

I looked at him and smiled weakly, nodding. I stood up and looked at the door one last time before walking away.

Two weeks have passed since that race.

Two weeks full of interviews, sponsor events, and photoshoots. Of holding a trophy that is the proof of how I lost the second position in the championship. Of smiling fakely when all I wanted to do was stay out of the cameras.

Two weeks of not knowing anything about Dafne. She didn't come to the interviews, nor the events, not even to the dinner.

“Did Dafne call?” I asked Fred while I looked at the empty seat where she was supposed to be sitting, and he only shrugged and shook his head.

“Last time I saw her was back in Abu Dhabi” he said. “I visited her in the hospital. She said that she needed time to recover, that's all.”

After that dinner, I tried to reach her. But every time I grabbed my phone and pressed her contact name, I hesitated, remembering the words of the man who I thought was her boyfriend.

Time. She needs time. She needs to recover. We have things to talk about.

So I waited. I waited until she called me. Until she was ready.

But I was growing impatient. December had already ended, and she hadn't called yet. Everyone at the factory was worried about her absence. And what really set off my alarms was hearing Fred talk about getting another driver in her seat.

So I did what I thought was the most normal thing. I went to her parents' house.

“What are you doing here?” I flinched when I heard her voice. Erica was there, looking at me leaning on the door frame. “I think no one invited you.”

“I just need to know if she's okay, Erica…” I sighed.

“She’s not” she frowned. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Of-”

“Yes, Erica! I know what I have done!” I exclaimed. “Why are you acting like this with me? I thought we were friends…”

“Friends? I stopped being your friend the moment I saw my sister having a panic attack because your fans came to attack her” she frowned.

“I need to see her, Erica. Please” I begged.

She looked at me, scanning me with her green eyes. I felt small again, being intimidated by her judging eyes. It reminded me of when I was a kid and she was always hanging out with my older brother and Jules. She always used to sit next to Jules, scanning the crowd with her eyes before talking, making an analysis of everyone.

“She was happy with Sebastian” she frowned. “She was finally happy, smiling. And then you…”

“I, what?” I frowned. “What else have I done, Erica? Tell me!”

“I… I can’t tell you” she sighed.

“God damn it! Please!” I groaned, frustrated.

“Do you remember where the house of our nonna is?” she said suddenly.

“The one where Jules and you used to play as Juliet and Romeo on the balcony?” I said, remembering those summer days.

“Y-yeah” she said, looking away. “That one.”

“She’s there?” I asked, confused. “She lives there?”

“She went there… to hide” she sighed.

“Hide?”

“Just… Charles” she sighed, taking a deep breath. “You’ll understand, okay? And please… Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt my sister ever again. If she tells you, please don’t run away. Stay with her, even if she pushes you away. Don’t give up.”

“I won’t run away” I said, swallowing thickly. “Not again. I won’t give up on her.”

“Good. Because she’ll need you” she nodded.

I swallowed thickly and walked towards her, going up the four stairs and hugging her. She tensed at first, but then hugged me immediately.

“I’m sorry… For everything I did” I whispered. “For every pain I caused. I don’t deserve your help…”

“Just promise you won’t hurt her ever again. Because if you do, I’ll be the first to-”

“I promise, I promise” I sighed, hugging her tighter.

I went back to the car, smiling weakly at Erica and driving away, trying to remember the way to that house in the middle of nowhere in Tuscany.

Memories came back to me. Our families spending the summer in that house, hiding in the bushes, running and racing to see who could get to the other side of the road first, the sunsets, our parents laughing in the backyard while the kids stayed in our rooms, floating in the river on hot days. Those days, even if Dafne and I were distant, were the best days of my life.

But being here in January is a completely different thing. It smells different; it’s not the warm weather anymore. When you drive through the road, you can smell the wood from the fireplaces keeping the houses warm. There’s no longer that smell of the wine and the herbs.

The house made of stone with wood shutters grew bigger as I approached it, making my heart beat faster with anxiety.

I parked the car on the side of the fence, taking a deep breath when I saw a car I guessed was the one she used to come here. I swallowed thickly, opening the gate and walking inside the property, looking at the house that holds many memories of my childhood.

I heard soft music from the backyard, so I guessed that Dafne was there. I walked towards it, opening the little metal door and closing my eyes when it made noise.

“Erica, you came-”

I swallowed thickly, looking at her. She was sitting on a chair, with a book in one of her hands, and the other hand… on top of her stomach.

“Charles” she mumbled.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. A pregnant belly.

“You are pregnant” I whispered.

That’s why she was hiding? Because she’s pregnant?

“How far?” I asked without thinking.

“Charles, I-”

“How far, Dafne? Is it…”

“Get out of here” she frowned, swallowing thickly and getting up. “You have no right to be here.”

“How far are you?” I insisted, watching her walk towards me.

“Four months, okay? Are you happy?” she groaned. “You are going to be a dad, asshole. Congratulations, you got rid of your worst enemy by knocking her up.”

Pregnant. She’s pregnant with my baby.

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