#air dry your clothes people

[bitsofsciencelife]

Ok. A few corrections and things to add:

Stretch fabric should NOT be put in the dryer. The heat will degrade the elastic fibres faster. Find a way to air dry clothes if possible, air drying is better for the environment anyway.

DO NOT tumble dry wool garments! It will shrink. Wool doesn't need much washing, just once a year or for stains. Air the garments between wears, in the sun if possible. Wash them before storage, tho! You can use cedar, lavander and camphor to prevent moths while in storage. Wool should be washed gently by hand or in a low-speed spin delicate cycle with cold or lukewarm water (below 30°C), and dried on a flat surface. The water should be mostly squeezed out, not wringed too hard by hand or spun too fast in the machine. Use a detergent for wool & silk (for animal fibers), or you can rinse it in some fabric softener to condition the fibers at the end. Other than this, fabric softener is indeed mostly useless. Save your money.

Correction: Letting hair air dry causes more frizz than using a hair dryer (at around 15 cm distance), as frizz depends on humidity levels in your location. Leave-in conditioning creams can guard off enviorment humidity thus preventing frizz. They can also protect against heat-styling. Mind the temperature of your styling tools keep it below 370F/190°C

Hair is weakest when wet. But water (alongside a styling cream or leave in conditioner) can help a lot with brushing curly hair. Dry brushing curly hair can damage it and cause tangles. Brush & cut your hair according to your hair type.

You can also boil things to disinfect them if you don't have modern appliances available.

The sun will help bleach white clothes and give them their "new" life back. If you can't wash a clothing item, just let it air in the sun. This also helps to get rid of the smell of smoke.

To remove smells from fabric you can use rubbing alcohol or drinking alcohol and spray it or rinse it with it (undiluted). Baking soda and vinagre won't help with smells.

You can get rid of period stains (or any blood stains for any Deadpools out there), with hydrogen peroxide or meat tenderizer.

Slight correction: Putting conditioner before shampooing protects the hair from water, which can be harsh on hair and is the biggest culprit of hair dyes not lasting. Only use conditioner midway-to-ends of the hair; the scalp doesn't need it because your natural oils will condition it. If you struggle with an oily scalp, washing more often is best with a shampoo with strong-cleansing surfactants, rather than very gentle shampoos (aka none of that sulfate free bullshit.)

You only need to let your antiperspirant dry for it to be effective. Maybe wait a few minutes to half an hour, not hours. Consider most products claim to last 12-24 hours anyway. Take advantage of that.

Correction: Washing your face more than twice a day can dry up your skin, for any skin type. If you have dry or sensitive skin only need to wash your face with a cleanser at night to remove products (like sunscreen and makeup) and the dirt of the day. You can just use water to wash in the morning. Use a gentle cleanser when possible, and use a makeup remover first if you wear makeup (like an oil cleanser, cleansing balm, or micellar water). Makeup wipes are controversial in the cosmetics world but that's up to you if you like them.

If you are often tempted to pop pimples, use a pimple or acne patch instead. If you struggle with acne, a good place to start is using a BHA cleanser or benzoyl peroxide cleanser and use it a few times per week. Just be careful to rinse and dry really well when using benzoyl peroxide as it can stain clothes. (If the acne is really bad, look into retinoids or consider seeing a dermatologist if possible. It might be a more complex issue.)

If you don't have a dryer, you can iron slightly damp towels with the vapor setting on to make them soft for use.

In case no one told you growing up

Bras last longer if you let them air dry. Don’t put them in the dryer.

If you have a problem with frizzy hair, don’t dry your hair with a towel. It makes the frizzies worse. (I recently read an article that said to use a t-shirt? I brush mine out and let it air dry.)

Whites wash best in hot water. Everything else can be in cold - save on your electricity bill.

You can kill 99.9% of germs in a sponge by putting it in the dishwasher for a cycle or by microwaving it for 2 min (be sure to make the sponge damp before microwaving and to put a cup half full of water in with it and please DO NOT squeeze the sponge until it has cooled off)

Airing out your room/house and letting sunlight in every so often can decrease the number of household pests like silverfish and ants.

Black underwear is best during your period as stains are less likely to be visible.

To save money, put aside 10% of each paycheck into a savings account. It’ll add up.

Unless your hair has something on/in it (like grease or mud or something), using conditioner first can actually be the better choice. The conditioner holds in the good oils that help you hair look sleek and beautiful, which shampoo would otherwise wash away.

Speaking of shampoo - if you have long hair, washing just the bits that touch your scalp is generally enough. The rest of your hair gets cleaned with just the run off from your scalp.

If you put a tampon in and it’s uncomfortable/you can feel it, you didn’t do it quite right. A properly placed tampon is virtually unnoticeable by the wearer.

Apply deodorant/antiperspirant a couple hours in advance of when you need it. This gives the product the chance to block your sweat glands. Using deodorant just before going somewhere where you’ll sweat (this means walking outside for people in high humidity places) results in your sweat washing the deodorant off and starkly limiting its usefulness.

After running the dryer, use the dryer sheet from that load to brush out the lint catch - it gets everything off in a fraction of the time it’ll take you to get it clean with your bare hands. Paper towels also work well.

Wash your face everyday, or as often as possible. Forget which brand of cleanser is best. Just washing your face everyday will guarantee you clearer skin. And do you best not to pop pimples, as tempting as the urge may be.

Fold laundry asap after taking it from the dryer to avoid wrinkles. This may seem obvious for dress shirts and silly for things like t-shirts, but you’ll notice the difference even then once your shirts stop looking like unfolded paper balls.

[icewindandboringhorror]

... how am I meant to get any sort of restful sleep when it's like 85F indoors in my bedroom at NIGHT .. hhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[astrxq]

Amidst the Battle

jacaerys velaryon x healer!reader

words: 8k

notes: non-canon events! not following the show's timeline. warnings: kissing, talk of war and wounds (i think that's all) feedback is appreciated!!

The acrid smell of smoke and blood hung heavy in the air as you made your way through the aftermath of the battle. Your eyes scanned the field, searching for survivors amidst the carnage. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the war-torn landscape, when you spotted him.

A young man, barely clinging to life, his curled hair matted with blood and dirt. You approached cautiously, your heart racing as you realized who he was – Jacaerys Velaryon, the dragon rider, prince, and heir to the throne of Rhaenyra.

You knelt beside him, your trained hands quickly assessing his injuries. Multiple lacerations, a deep gash across his abdomen, and what appeared to be a broken arm. His breathing was shallow, each inhale a struggle. Without immediate care, he wouldn’t survive the night.

“Hold on,” you whispered, though you were unsure if he could hear you. “I've got you.”

With a strength born of necessity, you managed to lift him onto your cart. Your cottage wasn't far, and you prayed to the gods, old and new, that he would make it there alive. As you guided your horse along the bumpy path, your mind raced. Treating a Velaryon, especially one as prominent as Jacaerys, could have been seen as an act of treason depending on who emerged victorious in this war. But as you glanced back at his pale face, you knew you couldn't live with yourself if you left him to die.

The journey felt endless, but finally, your modest cottage came into view. With great effort, you managed to bring Jacaerys inside and lay him on your bed. You worked tirelessly through the night, cleaning his wounds, stitching gashes, and setting his broken arm. Your stores of herbs were nearly depleted by the time you finished, but as dawn broke, his breathing had steadied, and some color had returned to his face.

Exhausted, you slumped into a chair by the bedside. You allowed yourself a moment of rest, watching the rise and fall of his chest. In sleep, the hardness of battle faded from his features, revealing a young man not much older than yourself. With a wet cloth, you gently cleaned his face, wiping away the stains of dry blood and dirt from the battle.

As you continued to clean his face, you couldn't help but study his features more closely. His curled hair, now free from the grime of battle, fell in soft waves across your pillow. You noticed a small scar near his left eyebrow, wondering what tale it might tell. His strong jaw was softened in sleep, and you found yourself tracing the line of it with your eyes.

A sudden twitch of his hand startled you from your reverie. You held your breath, watching intently, but he didn't wake. Releasing a sigh, you realized how dangerous this situation truly was. Housing and healing the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen could have cost you your life if the wrong people found out.

Despite the dangers, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon Jacaerys to the impersonal care of a volunteer center. The prince's injuries were severe, and his condition delicate. Each day was a delicate dance of tending wounds, easing fevers, and ensuring he had enough nourishment to sustain his weakened body. The thought of him being at the mercy of soldiers or opportunistic enemies made your decision clear – his safety was worth the risk.

In the quiet moments between changing bandages and preparing meals, you wrestled with guilt and anxiety. Every noise outside your cottage, every unfamiliar visitor passing by, sent a jolt of fear through you. Would they discover him? Would someone recognize him?

You rarely left Jacaerys' side, tending to his wounds and watching for any signs of fever or infection. His condition remained precarious, teetering on the edge between life and death.

On the third day, as you were changing the dressing on his abdominal wound, Jacaerys stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and a low groan escaped his lips. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as his eyes slowly opened, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they landed on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You could see the confusion in his eyes, followed quickly by a flash of fear and suspicion. His body tensed, and he tried to move away from you, only to grimace in pain at the sudden movement.

“Don't,” you said softly, holding up your hands to show you meant no harm. “You're badly injured. Any sudden movements could reopen your wounds.”

Jacaerys' eyes darted around the room, taking in his surroundings. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and weak. “Where am I? Who are you?”

His voice, while weak, sounded accusing, almost too sharp for it to match his tired expression. He could feel his throat dry and raw, each word an effort to push out. You reached for a cup of water nearby, offering it to him cautiously.

“Here,” you said, your voice gentle. “You need to drink.”

Jacaerys eyed the cup suspiciously, his gaze flickering between it and your face. You could see the internal struggle playing out in his eyes - the desperate thirst warring with his ingrained mistrust.

“It's just water,” you assured him, taking a small sip yourself to prove it. “You've been unconscious for days. Your body needs hydration to heal.”

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded slightly. You carefully supported his head, helping him take small sips. As the cool water touched his lips, his eyes closed briefly in relief. When he'd had enough, you set the cup aside and settled back into your chair. Jacaerys watched your every move, his body still tense despite the obvious pain it caused him.

“You didn't answer my questions,” he said, his voice a little clearer now. He ignored the grumbling of his stomach, having gotten used to being hungry because of the war. 

You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully. The Prince's wariness was palpable, and you couldn't blame him given the circumstances.

“You're in my cottage,” you explained softly. “I found you on the battlefield three days ago, gravely wounded. I brought you here to treat your injuries.”

Jacaerys' eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in every line of his face. “And you just happened to stumble upon me? Why would you risk treating an enemy soldier?”

You met his gaze steadily. “I don't see enemies on the battlefield, my Prince. Only people in need of help. It's my duty to heal, regardless of allegiances.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face at your use of his title, but it was quickly replaced by a guarded expression. “How do I know you're not holding me for ransom? Or waiting to turn me over to my enemies?”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of frustration and understanding. “If that were my intention, I wouldn't have spent the last three days fighting to keep you alive. Your wounds were severe, my Prince. You very nearly died.”

He seemed to consider this, his eyes roaming over the bandages covering his body. A grimace of pain crossed his face as he shifted slightly. “And what do you expect in return for your... kindness?” he asked, the last word tinged with sarcasm.

“Nothing,” you replied simply. “Your recovery is payment enough.”

Jacaerys scoffed, wincing at the movement. “No one does anything for nothing in this world.”

You stood, moving to a small table where you'd prepared a simple broth. “Believe what you will, my Prince.”

He stayed silent, his eyes scanning your features. As you turned back to Jacaerys with the bowl of broth, you noticed his eyes following your every move. The suspicion in his gaze hadn't lessened, but there was a hint of something else now - perhaps curiosity, or simply the weariness of a man too exhausted to maintain his guard fully.

“You should eat,” you said, approaching the bed slowly. “Your body needs nourishment to heal.”

Jacaerys eyed the bowl warily. “And how do I know it's not poisoned?” he asked, his voice still rough.

You resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, you took a small sip of the broth yourself. “See? Not poisoned. Though I suppose if you're determined to believe the worst of me, you could argue I've built up an immunity.”

A flicker of something - maybe amusement? - passed across Jacaerys' face, but it was gone in an instant. He took the bowl from you with his good hand, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours. As you turned to take his glass, with the intention of getting him more water, you noticed him trying to push himself up into a sitting position. His face paled with the effort, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“Please,” you said, setting the bowl aside and moving to help him. “Let me-”

“Don't touch me,” he snapped, his voice strained. “I can manage on my own.”

“But-”

Jacaerys ignored you, gritting his teeth as he finally managed to prop himself up against the headboard. He was breathing heavily from the exertion, his good hand pressed against his bandaged abdomen.

You waited patiently for him to recover, then offered the bowl of broth once more. This time, he took it with a curt nod, though his hand trembled slightly as he brought the spoon to his lips.

As he ate, you busied yourself around the small room, straightening things and gathering fresh bandages. You could feel his eyes on you, tracking your movements.

“What's your name?” he asked suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

You turned to face him, surprised by the question. “It's Y/n,” you replied.

Jacaerys nodded slightly, his face unreadable. “You will be compensated, once I am fully healed.”

You shook your head gently, a small smile playing on your lips. “That's not necessary, my Prince. As I said before, your recovery is payment enough.”

Jacaerys frowned, his brow furrowing. “I insist. I won't be indebted to anyone, especially not...” He trailed off, seemingly catching himself before saying something potentially offensive.

“Especially not a commoner?” you finished for him, your tone mild but with a hint of challenge. “Or perhaps you meant to say 'especially not someone who could be an enemy'?”

The prince had the grace to look slightly abashed, though he quickly masked it with a scowl. “You can't blame me for being cautious. These are dangerous times.”

You nodded, acknowledging his point. “Indeed they are. Which is why I hope you can understand my reluctance to accept payment. I have no desire to be seen as profiting from this war, regardless of which side emerges victorious.”

Jacaerys studied you for a long moment, his dark eyes searching your face. “You're either very noble or very foolish,” he said finally.

“Perhaps a bit of both,” you replied with a wry smile. “Now, if you've finished eating, I need to change your bandages again.”

As you gathered the necessary supplies, Jacaerys watched you warily. “You never answered my question about where we are,” he said.

You paused, “We're in a small village near the God's Eye,” you said finally. 

His jaw tightened, but he didn't press further. As you began to work on his bandages, he remained tense, flinching slightly at your touch despite your efforts to be gentle.

You could see him squirm from the corner of your eye as your hands removed the bandage that covered the gash on his abdomen, he moved his hand to the sheets, tightly clasping them as an attempt of relief at the pain.

As you carefully peeled away the bandage, Jacaerys inhaled sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. You paused, looking up at him with concern.

“I'm sorry,” you said softly. “I know it hurts. I'll try to be as gentle as possible.”

Jacaerys clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere above your head. “Just get on with it,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You nodded, returning your attention to the wound. The gash was deep, running from just below his ribs to his hip. The stitches you'd placed held firm, but the skin around them was angry and red. You frowned, silently starting to clean it gently with a herb-infused solution, feeling Jacaerys flinch and hold back a pained grunt with each touch.

“How long might this take?” he broke the silence after you’d adjusted his posture on the bed to wrap the new bandage around his torso. 

“I am almost done, my Prince.”

“No, how long until I can fight again?”

You paused, your hands stilling on the bandage. Looking up at Jacaerys, you saw determination burning in his eyes, mixed with a hint of desperation. You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully.

“My Prince,” you began gently, “your injuries are severe. The gash on your abdomen alone will take weeks, if not months, to heal completely. And that's not considering your broken arm or the other lacerations.”

Jacaerys' face darkened, his good hand clenching into a fist. “Weeks? Months? I don't have that kind of time. The war-”

“Will still be there when you're healed,” you interrupted, your voice firm but kind. “Fighting in your current condition would be a death sentence, my Prince. You'd be more of a liability than an asset on the battlefield.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but you held his gaze steadily. After a moment, he looked away, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“You don't understand,” he said, his voice low and tense. He didn’t say anything else, lifting his arms so you could start to wrap the clean bandage. 

The silence that followed Jacaerys' words was heavy with unspoken thoughts and shared tension. His frustration was palpable, each breath he took a reminder of the pain he was in and the urgency he felt. As you continued to wrap the bandage around his torso, your fingers worked with practiced precision, yet you could feel the tight coil of tension in every muscle beneath your touch.

His skin was warm, the heat of fever not entirely gone, and as you wound the clean linen around his abdomen, you could see the fine lines of strain on his face, the way his jaw clenched against the discomfort. You tried to be as gentle as possible, but each movement seemed to draw a wince from him, a reminder of the toll the battle had taken.

“It’s not too tight, is it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

As you finished wrapping the bandage, Jacaerys gave a curt nod. “It's fine,” he said, his voice tight.

You could see the strain in his eyes, the way he held himself rigidly to avoid showing any sign of weakness. Gently, you helped him lean back against the pillows, ignoring his mumbled protests.

“You need to rest,” you said softly. “Your body has been through a tremendous ordeal.”

Jacaerys closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. When he opened them again, the anger had faded, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. “How am I supposed to rest when my family, my people, are out there fighting and dying?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart ached at the pain in his words. Carefully, you sat on the edge of the bed, making sure to give him space. “By remembering that you're no use to them dead,” you replied gently.

“I do not wish to rest,” he struggled to push himself onto a sitting position, trying to get his legs off of the bed. He let out a grunt and a small whine at the pain, immediately stopping to place his good hand over the newly placed bandage. 

“See?” you said, “You can’t even sit without hurting yourself.”

Jacaerys clenched his jaw, frustration evident in every line of his face. “I've endured worse,” he said through gritted teeth, but he made no further attempt to move.

You sighed softly, understanding his determination but worried about the toll it was taking on his body. You stood, settling yourself before him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve been resting for days!” 

You gave him a look which made him shut his mouth. Before he could protest any further, you applied pressure on his shoulders, making his body follow suit to your moves, and you laid him back down on the bed. “I will get you more supper, my Prince.”

As you gently guided Jacaerys back onto the bed, you could feel the tension in his muscles, the reluctance in every inch of his body. His eyes, dark with frustration and pain, followed you as you moved away.

“I don't need more food,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I need to be out there, fighting alongside my family.”

You paused at the door, turning back to face him. The sight of him, pale and drawn against the pillows, made your heart ache. “My Prince,” you said softly, “I understand your desire to rejoin the fight. But right now, the best thing you can do for your family is to heal.”

Jacaerys let out a bitter laugh that turned into a wince of pain. As you busied yourself preparing the simple meal, you could hear Jacaerys shifting restlessly on the bed. His impatience was palpable, filling the small room with an almost tangible energy. When you returned with a steaming bowl and a chunk of crusty bread, you found him staring at the ceiling, his good hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Jacaerys allowed you to adjust the pillows behind him, wincing slightly as he leaned back. “I can feed myself,” he said quickly as you reached for the spoon.

You nodded, stepping back to give him space. “Of course, my Prince. Just... take it slowly. Your body is still healing.”

He shot you a look that was part irritation, part grudging acceptance. As he began to eat, you busied yourself tidying the room, keeping a watchful eye on him without being too obvious about it.

“Tell me about the war,” Jacaerys said suddenly, breaking the silence. “What news have you heard?”

You hesitated, unsure how much to share. “I... I don't know much, My Prince. We're quite isolated here, and news travels slowly.”

His eyes narrowed, sensing your reluctance. “But you must have heard something. Please, I need to know what's happening out there.”

Sighing softly, you perched on the edge of the bed. “The last I heard, the fighting had spread to the Riverlands. There were rumors of a great battle near Harrenhal, but I don't know the outcome.”

Jacaerys' face tightened, his spoon clattering against the bowl as his hand shook slightly. “What’s wrong?” you immediately asked. He shook his head.

Your hand quickly moved to his forehead, seeing that his fever had gone up since you last checked. Jacaerys' skin was warm to the touch, a worrying sign that the fever, which had seemed to abate, was now surging again. You frowned, your healer's instincts kicking in. He swatted your hand away weakly, but you persisted, feeling the heat radiating from him.

“You're burning up,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. “I need to bring your fever down before it gets any worse.”

He sighed, relaxing onto the pillow, finally giving up trying to convince you to let him get up. You left the room to get herbal medicine and a wet towel, lowering yourself to the edge of the bed to place the cloth over his forehead. He shut his eyes at the contact. 

The cloth felt cool against Jacaerys' fevered skin, and he let out a slow, shaky breath as his eyes closed. You could see the tension gradually easing from his body, though his brow remained furrowed with discomfort.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, barely audible, his voice thick with weariness.

Without thinking, you reached out, placing your hand over his. Jacaerys looked down at your hand, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he took a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his body.

He swallowed the thick medicine, making a sour face before picking up his spoon again. As he resumed eating, you noticed a slight tremor in his hand, fatigue already setting in from the simple act of feeding himself. But you knew better than to offer help again, recognizing his need to maintain some sense of independence. Your hand was still in his, you tried not to pay much mind to it, he was wounded after all. 

You watched Jacaerys closely as he struggled to finish his meal, concern etching lines on your face. The renewed fever worried you, a sign that his body was still fighting hard against infection. As he set the spoon down, his hand shaking with the effort, you gently took the bowl from him.

“That's enough for now,” you said softly. “You need to rest.”

Jacaerys opened his mouth as if to protest, but then closed it, nodding weakly. The fight seemed to have gone out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness that tugged at your heart.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I thought I was getting stronger.”

You shook your head, adjusting the cool cloth on his forehead. “Get some sleep.” His fingers tightened around yours, a small gesture of acknowledgment. You sat there in silence, holding his hand as his breathing gradually evened out into sleep. 

As dawn broke, you stirred from your uncomfortable position in the chair by Jacaerys' bedside. You hadn't meant to fall asleep there, but exhaustion had finally claimed you. Your hand was still entwined with his, and you gently extricated yourself, hoping not to wake him.

Jacaerys' face was peaceful in sleep, the lines of pain and worry smoothed away. His curls were tousled against the pillow, and you resisted the urge to brush them back from his forehead. Instead, you carefully checked his temperature, relieved to find the fever had broken during the night. 

Jacaerys stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he didn’t wake. You noticed the lines of tension easing from his face, his breathing steady and deep. It was a small victory, but in times of war, even the smallest victories mattered.

Leaving the room quietly, you headed to the small kitchen area to prepare breakfast. You moved with practiced ease, gathering the few ingredients you had. The war had made supplies scarce, and you’d been careful to ration what little you had left. 

When you returned with a simple meal of bread, cheese, and a few herbs, Jacaerys was awake, propped up against the pillows, looking slightly less tense than the night before. His eyes followed you as you set the food down on a small table beside the bed.

“Good morrow,” he mumbled, reaching for the bread like a starved man. 

You offered him a small smile, relieved to see him awake and seemingly better. “Good morrow, my Prince. How are you feeling?”

Jacaerys didn't answer immediately, instead taking a small bite of the bread and chewing thoughtfully. “Better,” he finally admitted, though his voice was still hoarse and weak. “Thank you.”

You nodded, pouring him a cup of water and placing it within easy reach. “You're welcome. Your fever broke during the night, which is a good sign.”

He grunted in response, focusing on finishing the bread. After a few moments of silence, during which you busied yourself tidying up, he spoke again.

“Do you live by yourself?”

“Yes, my Prince.” you nodded.

He furrowed his brows, making a face and stopping his chewing to shake his head. “Enough with the formalities, you’re not my servant,” he took a sip of the water, “Simply call me by my name.”

“Jacaerys,” you said softly, testing the name on your tongue. It felt strange yet oddly comforting to address him so casually. “And yes, I live alone here.”

He nodded slightly, seeming to relax marginally at the use of his name. “Why did you become such a good healer?” he asked after a moment, his voice still rough but curious.

You considered his question, moving to sit on the edge of the bed opposite him. “I suppose it was a calling of sorts,” you began, your gaze thoughtful. “I grew up in a small village not far from here. My mother was a healer herself, and she taught me everything she knew.”

Jacaerys listened quietly, his eyes fixed on your face. As you gazed at each other, something shifted in the air between you. Jacaerys' eyes dropped to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your gaze again. 

There was a vulnerability in his eyes that belied the prince he was supposed to be, a young man laid low by wounds and circumstance. You found yourself drawn to him in a way that surprised you, a healer's compassion mixing with something deeper, something unbidden.

“My mother always believed healing was a gift,” you continued, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “She taught me that every life saved was a victory against darkness and despair.”

Jacaerys nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “And you chose to follow in her footsteps,” he murmured, more a statement than a question.

“No... I-,” you replied softly. “I am simply a commoner,”

“You’re not spoken for?”

The question took you by surprise, it must’ve shown on your face by the way Jacaerys scurried to clarify. “I was just curious-”

“I... no, I’m not,” you replied, caught off guard by his sudden inquiry.

Jacaerys hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. “It’s just... unusual, for someone like you,” he said carefully.

“Someone like me?”

He seemed to panic for a second, eyes widening for a beat before he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re very kind.” he clarified, though his gaze remained steady on yours. 

You felt a slight flush rise to your cheeks at Jacaerys' words. The idea of being courted had always felt distant and almost foreign to you. Life in a small village near the God's Eye had been quiet and isolated, focused on survival rather than romance or social niceties. Most of the men you knew had gone off to fight in the war, leaving little time or opportunity for such things.

“I... thank you,” you managed to reply, your voice a touch quieter than before. 

As he finished the last of the bread, Jacaerys set the plate aside, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the table. His eyes, still heavy with fatigue but clearer than they had been in days, studied you with a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite identify.

“Tell me more about yourself,” he said softly, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “How did you come to live here, alone?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by his sudden interest. “It's not a very exciting tale, I'm afraid,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “After my mother passed, I inherited this cottage. It's been my home ever since.”

Jacaerys nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “I am sorry, she sounds like a very kind woman,”

“It’s alright, it was years ago.” you paused, his chest heaved, lost in thought he bit the inside of his lip. 

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he smiled. It was a small thing, just a slight upturn of his lips, but it transformed his face, softening the hard lines of battle and pain. “Thank you.”

Over the next few weeks, as Jacaerys' strength slowly returned, you fell into a comfortable routine. You would bring him meals, change his bandages, and help him with gentle exercises to regain his mobility. And in between these tasks, you talked.

Jacaerys, you discovered, was insatiably curious. He asked you about your life, your work, your thoughts on everything from the changing seasons to the intricacies of herbal remedies. At first, you were hesitant, unused to someone taking such an interest in your opinions. But gradually, you found yourself opening up, sharing stories of your childhood, your mother's teachings, the quiet joys and sorrows of your solitary life.

In turn, Jacaerys spoke of his own experiences, though he was careful to avoid mentioning anything too specific about the ongoing war. He told you of his love for flying, the exhilaration of soaring through the clouds on dragonback. He described the beauty of Driftmark, his family's ancestral home, with its shimmering waters and grand halls.

As the days passed, you found yourself looking forward to these conversations more and more. There was something about Jacaerys that put you at ease, despite his royal status. His quick wit and genuine interest in your thoughts made you feel seen in a way you never had before.

His arm had healed, the gash on his stomach still required careful tending, but it was gradually mending.

One day, as you were tending to the herb garden outside your cottage, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning, you saw Jacaerys standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on a makeshift cane you had fashioned for him so it wouldn’t hurt to walk. He looked stronger, more resolute, though still pale and somewhat fragile.

“You're up,” you said, a hint of surprise in your voice. “I didn't hear you come out.”

Jacaerys offered a small smile, his gaze sweeping over the garden. “I didn't want to disturb you,” he replied. “You looked... peaceful. I thought you might need some company,” he said, his voice lighter than it had been in days.

You smiled warmly, gesturing for him to join you. “I could always use an extra pair of hands,” 

He nodded, making his way slowly to where you were kneeling among the herbs. He grunted as he joined your position, hand cradling his bandage in discomfort, “What shall I do?”

As Jacaerys settled beside you in the herb garden, you couldn't help but notice how different he looked in the soft afternoon light. The sun caught in his curls, giving them a golden sheen, and his eyes seemed brighter, more alive than you'd seen them since he first woke in your cottage.

“Here,” you said, handing him a small trowel. “We need to thin out these chamomile plants. They're growing too close together.”

Jacaerys took the tool, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment. You felt a small jolt at the contact, but quickly pushed the feeling aside.

“Like this?” he asked, carefully digging around one of the smaller plants.

You nodded, watching as he worked. His movements were slow and a bit clumsy, but he approached the task with the same determination you'd seen in his eyes when he spoke of returning to battle.

“You're a natural,” you said, offering an encouraging smile. “I imagine it's quite different from wielding a sword or riding a dragon.”

Jacaerys chuckled softly, the sound warming something deep inside you. “Indeed it is,” he replied.

You worked in silence for a while, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Every so often, you'd steal a glance at Jacaerys, marveling at how at ease he seemed in this simple task.

“Tell me,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, hands threading the weeds as he stole glances at your own hands to mirror your movements. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

The question caught you off guard. You'd never really thought about leaving your small corner of the world before. You hummed, “I... I'm not sure,” you admitted. “I've never been far from here.”

Jacaerys looked up from his work, his eyes meeting yours. “Surely you must have dreamed of other places?”

You considered for a moment, your hands continuing to work almost of their own accord. “I suppose... I've always been curious about Oldtown,” you said finally. “The Citadel, with all its knowledge and learning. It must be amazing.”

Jacaerys nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It is,” he said softly. “The libraries there are unlike anything you've ever seen. Shelves upon shelves of books, stretching as far as the eye can see.”

“You've been there?” you asked, unable to keep the awe from your voice.

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Once, when I was younger. Before...” he trailed off, his gaze turning distant.

You understood. Before the war, before the weight of his responsibilities had fully settled on his shoulders.

“Perhaps...” Jacaerys began, then hesitated. “Perhaps when this is all over, you could see it for yourself.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. The idea was so foreign, so impossible, and yet... the way he said it made it seem almost within reach. The thought of Jacaerys showing you around Oldtown, of exploring those vast libraries together, sent a thrill through you that you couldn't quite ignore.

“I... I would like that,” you replied softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and something else you couldn't quite define.

Jacaerys smiled, a genuine expression that reached his eyes. “Good,” he said, his voice tinged with warmth. “It's a promise, then.”

Jacaerys' eyes met yours again, and for a moment, you felt as if you were teetering on the edge of something vast and unknowable. The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken possibilities.

But then Jacaerys winced, his hand going to his side where you knew his wound still pained him. The moment shattered, reality rushing back in.

“We should get you back inside,” you said, your healer's instincts taking over. “You've been out here too long.”

Jacaerys nodded, allowing you to help him to his feet with a pained sound from his throat. As you made your way back to the cottage, his arm around your shoulders for support, you couldn't shake the feeling that, even though he was still in pain as of now, he’d eventually have to leave for war again.

Your thoughts raced as you helped Jacaerys back inside the cottage, his weight leaning heavily on you despite his efforts to remain upright after having strained himself into a bad position for his wounds. The image of him in pain, yet determined to return to the battlefield, haunted you. You knew his wounds were healing, but not fast enough for him, not when his heart and mind were still with his family and the war effort.

Inside, you guided him back to the bed, where he eased himself down with a grunt of pain. His face was drawn, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he settled against the pillows.

“You shouldn't have pushed yourself,” you said softly, your voice tinged with concern as you adjusted the pillows behind him.

Jacaerys spoke, his voice strained. “I can't just stay idle while others fight and die.”

You sighed, sitting beside him on the bed. “I understand your need to fight, Jacaerys. But you're not yet strong enough. Rushing back into battle could do more harm than good.”

His eyes searched for yours, frustration and determination warring within them. “But every day that passes, I feel more useless,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You're not useless,” you countered gently, your hand reaching out to grasp his. 

Jacaerys sighed heavily, his fingers tightening around yours. 

For a long moment, Jacaerys was silent, his gaze fixed on some distant point. The tension in his body slowly eased, his fingers relaxing slightly around yours. “I don't want to be weak,” he admitted quietly, almost to himself.

“You're not weak, Jacaerys,” you said firmly, meeting his eyes. “You're healing,” you continued softly, squeezing his hand gently. “It takes time. And taking the time you need now will make you stronger in the long run.”

Jacaerys looked down at your intertwined hands, his expression conflicted. “I've always been taught that strength is in action, not in rest,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

“Strength is also in knowing when to rest,” you replied gently.

As Jacaerys looked up at you, his eyes softened. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out with his free hand to gently cup your cheek. Letting out a sound that sounded almost like a plea, he pulled your face down to meet his. 

The first brush of his lips sent a shiver through you, a gentle exploration that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions. Jacaerys' lips were warm and soft, molding against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. His fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer, as if afraid to let go of this fragile moment.

You responded instinctively, leaning into him, your hand finding its place against his chest. Beneath your touch, you felt the steady beat of his heart, strong and steady, echoing the rhythm of your own pulse. The scent of earth and herbs mingled with the subtle fragrance of his skin, creating a heady mix that enveloped you both.

He furrowed his brows, trying to focus on the kiss and not his inexperience. He’d spent most of his teen years fighting in wars, after all. 

His lips moved tentatively against yours, a mixture of desire and uncertainty evident in his touch. His hand remained on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin as if trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

His touch is tender, and his kiss carries a mix of uncertainty and desire. You can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. Perhaps he's been so focused on duty and honor that he's only now allowing himself to explore softer, more vulnerable emotions. He kisses you as if it’s the last thing he will ever do, not hungry enough to be lust but soft enough for your mind to swirl with possibilities of why your heart feels fluttery in your chest. 

But then, as Jacaerys shifted his position ever so slightly, a sharp intake of breath escaped him. His hand instinctively moved from your cheek to clutch at his side, where the lingering pain from his wound had suddenly flared up.

You pulled back immediately, concern etched on your face. “Are you alright?” Your voice carried a mixture of worry and compassion.

He winced, his features tense with pain. “It's nothing,” he managed through gritted teeth, trying to reassure you even as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“I just... I wanted...” Jacaerys's voice trailed off, frustration evident in his eyes as he looked away, unable to finish his thought.

You gently placed your hand on Jacaerys's shoulder, silently urging him to rest against the pillows. His brow furrowed with pain as he settled back, his breathing still labored. The moment of intimacy between you both had faded into the background, replaced by the urgent need to tend to his worsening pain.

“It's alright,” you assured him softly, your fingers brushing lightly over his forehead. “Just breathe. Let the pain pass.”

Jacaerys closed his eyes briefly, focusing on regulating his breath. You followed the usual routine, giving him pain-killing medicine, stepping out of the room while he changed into your old father’s clothes, and continuing to provide the healing and care he needed in the following days. The conversation about the kiss was long gone.

As the days passed, Jacaerys continued to heal under your careful attention. The gash on his stomach gradually closed, leaving behind a thin scar that was appearing. His arm, once injured and immobile, regained strength. He was practically healed.

As Jacaerys's physical condition improved, a palpable tension grew between you both. The memory of that tender kiss lingered, unspoken but ever-present in the air. You found yourself stealing glances at him when you thought he wasn't looking, your heart fluttering at the sight of his tousled curls or the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he read one of your few books.

Jacaerys, too, seemed more aware of your presence. His eyes would follow you as you moved about the cottage, and his hand would often linger a moment too long when you passed him things. Yet neither of you spoke of what had happened, as if addressing it might somehow break the fragile peace you had found.

One morning, you awoke to find Jacaerys standing by the window, his posture tense and alert. He ran his hands through his hair in stress, wearing the same clothes you found him in the day you took him into your care. Your heart sank as you realized what this meant.

“Jacaerys?” you said softly, approaching him.

He turned to face you, his expression a mix of determination and regret. “Y/n,” he began, his voice low and serious. “I must return to the war.”

A part of you had anticipated this moment would come, but you dreaded it. You had known from the beginning that Jacaerys was not just any injured soldier seeking refuge – he was a prince, with responsibilities that extended far beyond the confines of your quiet garden.

You approached him slowly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Jacaerys, rushing back into battle–”

He cut you off gently, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. “I need to do this,” he said firmly. “They need to know that I haven't abandoned them.”

You sighed softly, “I understand,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Jacaerys's expression softened, his hand coming up to your chin. His eyes scanning your face for a few seconds, trying to memorize every freckle, every detail he possibly could before he left again. 

For a moment, you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Then, with a sudden urgency, Jacaerys leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was urgent, passionate, filled with all the unspoken emotions that had built up between you. His lips were warm and soft against yours, moving with a newfound confidence and intensity.

One of his hands cupped your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheek, while the other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart echoing your own racing pulse.

The kiss deepened, Jacaerys tilting his head slightly to better capture your lips. There was a hint of desperation in the way he kissed you, as if he was trying to memorize every sensation, every taste, every feeling. His tongue gently traced your bottom lip, seeking permission, which you granted with a soft sigh.

As the kiss intensified, you found your hands moving of their own accord - one threading through his soft curls, the other gripping the fabric of his shirt at his chest. The scent of him enveloped you - a mixture of herbs from your garden, the earthiness of the forest, and something uniquely Jacaerys.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the kiss. It was bittersweet, filled with the joy of finally giving in to your feelings, but tinged with the sadness of knowing it might be a goodbye. Jacaerys kissed you as if it was both the first and last time, pouring every ounce of his gratitude, affection, and regret into this one moment.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Jacaerys rested his forehead against yours. Silently, he moved his hands to your wrist, gently untying one of your bracelets and nudging your fingers with his. He held the bracelet in his hand for a moment, running his thumb over the woven threads.

“May I keep this?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, unable to find words as emotion welled up in your throat. Jacaerys carefully tucked the bracelet into a pocket, as if it were a precious treasure. 

He grasped your face in his hands again, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Lingering, he moved down to your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth. He kissed every inch of your face, his eyes furrowed close as if he was trying to forget where he was going – if he was ever going to see you again. Finally, he reached your mouth again, giving you a slow kiss.

Jacaerys stepped back. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as if preparing to face the world beyond your cottage. Unable to trust your voice to respond, you reached out and gently squeezed his hand, conveying your own gratitude and a silent farewell.

With a final, lingering look, Jacaerys turned away and made his way out of the cottage, his steps steadier than they had been in weeks. You watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and sadness as he disappeared from view. Alone once more in the quiet of your cottage, you leaned against the doorframe, your heart heavy with the weight of his absence. The memory of his touch lingered on your skin, his kiss still warm against your lips.

Months passed in a blur of uncertainty and waiting. As the war waged on, your heart remained tethered to Jacaerys, hoping and praying for his safety. You tended to your garden with a quiet determination, finding solace in the familiar rhythms of nature amid the turmoil beyond your cottage walls. Everytime a new black soldier came for aid at the care center, you’d sneakily ask about the war, for news, for numbers of wounded and dead – anything you could grasp onto.

News of the war's eventual end arrived like a bittersweet whisper, bringing relief mingled with sorrow for the lives lost. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as you continued your solitary existence, never quite giving up hope that one day Jacaerys might return.

Then, on a crisp morning that carried the promise of autumn, a knock echoed through your cottage. Startled, you set down your gardening tools and hurried to the door. When you opened it, your breath caught in your throat.

There stood Jacaerys, his once-pristine armor now battered and bloodied, a testament to the trials he had faced. His hair was unkempt, his face lined with weariness, but his eyes held a familiar spark of determination and relief as they met yours.

“Y/n,” he breathed, his voice hoarse but filled with emotion.

A rush of emotions flooded through you – joy, disbelief, and an overwhelming sense of relief that he had returned to you. Without a word, you threw your arms around him, holding him close as if afraid he might vanish again.

Jacaerys held you just as tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if seeking reassurance that you were real. “I'm here,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick with exhaustion and gratitude.

Together, you stepped inside the cottage, the weight of the past months hanging in the air but overshadowed by the sheer relief of being reunited. Jacaerys sank into a chair, and you fetched a basin of water and a cloth to tend to his wounds. As you cleaned the blood and grime from his face and hands, your touch was gentle, conveying a silent understanding of all he had endured.

Once cleaned up, Jacaerys looked around the familiar surroundings of your cottage, a sense of peace settling over him. “It feels like a lifetime since I was last here,” he admitted softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, sitting beside him and taking his hand in yours. Your instinct made your hands  immediately go to his forearm, a cut that was no longer bleeding on it, tenderly tracing over the healed wound, feeling the scar that marked him.

“I'm glad you're back,” you murmured, your voice filled with a mixture of relief and lingering concern. He took your hand in his, his eyes searching yours with earnest intensity. 

“I want to stay,” he said quietly, his voice steady yet filled with vulnerability. “Here, with you.”

You squeezed his shoulder, a grin plastered on your face as he mirrored your movements. 

“Let me tend to your wounds,” you said softly, guiding him to sit by the hearth where you had once helped him find refuge. Jacaerys lowered himself gratefully, wincing slightly as he settled, his armor clinking softly with the movement. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, a delicate balance of relief and the weight of their shared experiences.

You fetched fresh water and clean cloths, moving with practiced care as you began to clean the grime and blood from his face and hands. Each gentle touch spoke of the months apart, of your worry and hope intertwined. 

Jacaerys watched you silently, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude, much like the first time you had tended to him.

[1-dum-bitch]

Salt actually keeps you better hydrated, so things like electrolyte replacements and salt (yes like sodium chloride/table salt) pills will give you an extra boost in that front. (more unsolicited advice in my tags)

I need UK journalists to not show 43 degrees is not beach weather like people are gonna die

Americans do not interact

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine

AN: Hi my loves! So, this is the first installment of a oneshot series and I hope you’ll like it! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: The first ray of sunlight holds many promises.

Word Count: 2844

You were no stranger to the feeling of inadequacy.

For you it was around every corner; impossible to get away from at least for the last couple of years. Even now, in the clothes you had borrowed from your best friend in an attempt to look more formal and serious, you couldn’t help but feel way out of your element.

Yet in your humble opinion, the very intimidating mansion you were currently gawking at didn’t make this any easier.

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you tried to keep your breathing under control, your tongue shooting up to wet your dry lips, then you looked down when you felt a tug on your sleeve. Theo stared up at you with wide eyes, making your heart clench but you managed to give him a bright smile despite the fear clouding your mind, and crouched down to get to his eye level.

“Hey bean,” you said, pushing his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me?”

You gasped and pressed a hand over your chest, feigning shock.

“Are you kidding?” you asked. “They will absolutely adore you. I myself am more worried that they will love you too much.”

He blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Too much?”

You nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “And then I’ll have to fight everyone in there to get you to myself every weekend.”

That managed to make him giggle and you pretended to be offended, narrowing your eyes.

“You don’t think I could take them down?”

“Can you?”

“Why yes I can,” you said, sticking your nose in the air. “I just don’t like to brag about it because that’ll scare people off, you know?”

He smiled wide and you pinched his cheek, then turned your head when a pretty girl with gloves on her hands cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Rogue,” she introduced herself. “New enrollment?”

 “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “Yeah, hi.”

“Professor is expecting you, please follow me,” she said and you stood up, then took Theo’s hand and followed her into the building.

The interior of the mansion was as gorgeous and intimidating as it was on the outside. Theo looked like he was nearly hypnotized -which made sense, your apartment had to be the size of a simple storage room in this place- and he stared at the ceiling with his mouth hanging open, his eyes darting around.

“I feel like you should know that because of the new policy Professor will need his parents’ signature in order to enroll him,” Rogue said, making you snap out of your haze before you cleared your throat.

“Um, I’m the parent.”

That made her pause only for a moment and she pulled her brows together, looking between you and Theo.

“Oh, sorry about that!” she said. “I just assumed…”

“No no I get that a lot, please don’t worry about it,” you assured her quickly, waving a hand in the air. “I had Theo the first year of college and—”

Never got to finish that year or the rest.

“As I said, I get that a lot.”

She gave you an apologetic smile, then stopped in front of a door.

“Wait a moment please,” she said, knocking on the door before stepping inside and Theo tugged at your sleeve.

“It’s so pretty here!” he whispered and you tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat, then smiled at him.

“Isn’t it?” you whispered. “It’ll be fun to go to school here huh? The brochure said they even have a maze!”

“A maze?” he asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Like in the movies?”

“Mm hm, just like in the movies,” you said. “And a lake!”

“Where is the lake?”

“I don’t know yet but they’ll show you,” you said and frowned when the thought hit you. “But you’re not going there without a teacher, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” he said as you hooked your pinky with his and the door opened again.

“You can go in,” Rogue said and you thanked her, then turned to Theo.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” you asked and entered the huge office to see the man in the wheelchair behind the desk.

“Hello sir,” you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts as you approached him to shake his hand, then took the seat across from the desk.

“Hello,” he said with a calm smile. “I’m Professor Charles Xavier, we spoke on the phone. Y/N, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Of course, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “I take it you’re here to enroll your son as we spoke?”

You nodded your head, fighting the urge to bite at your nails and took Theo’s file from his other school out of your backpack, then put it in front of him so that he could examine it.

“He’s um, he’s really good at math,” you said, stumbling over your words. “I don’t know if that’ll be helpful here but he’s—he’s very good at a lot of classes really.”

“I must admit, he is going to be the youngest student here and the fact that his power has shown itself this early on…” Professor Xavier trailed off, your stomach doing a painful flip. “We will have to work hard, but I’m confident that we can guide him and teach him how to use his abilities for good.”

You nibbled on your lip, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“I know it’s a boarding school but he’s not used to being away from me and I’m not used to being away from him,” you admitted, “You said on the phone that the students’ weekends are free?”

“Of course,” he said. “Some of our students only stay here on weekdays to attend their classes, and they spend their weekends with their parents.”

You let out a relieved breath. “Okay. That’s nice to hear.”

“I know you’re worried,” he said, his voice completely calm and soothing. “It’s very normal to be worried but trust me, you’re making the best decision for him.”

“I know,” you said, trying to convince yourself and him at the same time. “I’ve done a lot of research and—and I want him to be safe and this place seems like the best place to teach him how to be safe.”

Professor Xavier pulled out a paper from his drawer, then pushed it in your direction with a pen.

“We only need your signature,” he said and paused for a second. “That is if the father…?”

You shook your head.

“Not in the picture, sir,” you said as you signed the paper, your heart beating in your ears. “Um, it’s just me and Theo.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, I promise you that Theo will be in good hands, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, putting the paper back on the desk and fixed your hair with a shaky hand just so that you could keep yourself busy, and Professor Xavier offered you a small smile.

“You can always contact me if you have any other questions,” he said. “I’ll talk to Theo after Rogue gives him his tour, and I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you, have a nice day.”

“You too.”

When you walked out of the office, you caught the sight of Rogue talking to a tall man with tousled dark hair, but you couldn’t see his face since his back was turned to you. For a moment you considered letting Rogue know that you were out, but figured it would be rude to interrupt, so you approached Theo who was patiently waiting for you.

“Alright bean,” you said as you crouched down to look him in the eye, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, desperate to keep the tears at bay at least until you were back in the car and Theo couldn’t see you. “What day is it today?”

“Tuesday.”

“And then we have…?”

“Wednesday, Thursday and Friday,” he said, counting with his fingers and you nodded your head, holding his fingers together.

“And on Friday I’ll come and get you, okay?” you asked him and he pursed his lips, then pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Just three days.”

“Just three days,” you repeated. “But before I leave, you need to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You’ll tell me all about how pretty this place is, in detail,” you said. “And how much fun you have. So you kind of have to see everything here and have fun, promise?”

“Promise.”

“And the signal?”

He smiled, tapping over his heart three times and you did the same.

“See? I feel it,” you told him. “When you do that, I’ll do the same even if I’m not here. Okay?”

“Mkay.”

 “Ready for your tour, Theo?” Rogue asked and he looked up at her, then turned to you and you pulled him into a tight hug, then smothered him in kisses as he let out an embarrassed whine.

“Mommy!”

“Okay okay, sorry,” you said with a small laugh, then adapted an overly serious expression and held out your hand. “A handshake then?”

He let out a giggle, then shook your hand and you forced yourself to smile, then stood up and straightened your back while he made his way to Rogue. Theo waved at you and you waved back, but as soon as he turned the corner with Rogue, your shoulders dropped.

Okay.

It was fine.

It was going to be just fine.

 “New enrollment?” a deep voice reached you and you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him better.

It was the same man who you’d seen talking to Rogue just now and God, he was so handsome. If your mind wasn’t numb with anxiety, you would have stood there and gawk at him for a good minute, but perhaps your worries were for once working in your favor. His intense gaze raked over you, making your cheeks burn and your heartbeat speeding up, and a small smile curled his lips as if he could hear it.

“That obvious?”

“Just a little,” he said as your hand shot up to pinch your bottom lip, his gaze following the motion.

“People don’t get killed or maimed here, do they?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not on weekdays.”

“Great,” you said after a beat, offering him a weak smile. “Thanks. I’m gonna go on a limb and say there’s a reason why they didn’t put you in the welcome committee?”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch and he nodded in the direction Theo had walked away from you.

“Isn’t he a bit too young to have powers?”

“Funny you should ask that because I repeated the same question over and over again until I cried myself to sleep last night,” you pointed out and scrunched up your nose when he tilted his head. “Sorry. My jokes get a bit grim when I’m stressed.”

“You look like a very relaxed individual.”

“Do I?”

“Not really, I’m convinced that you’re having a heart attack right now.”

You blinked a couple of times in confusion before the idea hit you and your jaw dropped, your stomach doing a flip.

Right. He—

Everyone here had powers.

Well if there was anything more embarrassing than making bad jokes in front of a very hot man, it was that when the said hot man could hear your heartbeat. You managed to close your mouth and shifted your weight, your hand shooting up to your mouth again so that you could bite at the hangnail on your thumb nervously.

“Yeah that’s kind of my factory settings,” you managed to mumble. “I generate enough stress to light up a whole city.”

He hummed, his unwavering gaze making your heart skip a beat and as always, your brain took it as a sign for you to ramble about absolute nonsense.

“I’ll be a very rich person the moment they find a way to monetize stress,” you stated. “Which should be any day now, and I kind of have a list prepared for that day; the first thing I’m gonna do is probably cry because knowing me—I cry like all the time, I cried this morning and I will probably cry when I get to my car after this but— but then I’ll buy one of those very expensive coffees, I don’t know if you’ve tried them—”

“Logan, Storm wants to see us,” someone called out from the end of the hallway, cutting through your rambling but he didn’t even look at the owner of the voice. Instead, a small smirk curled his lips as if he was amused with your nonsense and you swallowed thickly, biting at your thumb again.

“I’m Logan by the way,” he said and you raised your brows, then nodded fervently.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, lowering your hand. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

The silence that fell upon you felt like it would explode your head so you cleared your throat, throwing your shoulders back.

“I should—I should get back to work before I get fired,” you stammered, jerking your thumb over your shoulder and took a step, then turned around on your heels. “But um, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said, his voice completely calm unlike yours and you shot him a tentative smile, then made your way out of the hallway, then walked out of the building as fast as you could as if someone was chasing you.

“Oh I’m an idiot,” you sang to yourself, drawing out the last syllable like an opera singer while fished your car keys out of your backpack, your heart still beating in your ears. “I’m an idiot, I’m such an idiot…”

 The moment you got in your car, you heaved a sigh and pressed your palms on your eyes but your head shot up when your phone started ringing. You unzipped your backpack to grab it, then tossed the backpack back in the passenger seat and checked the screen to see your best friend’s name. You let out a breath, then touched the screen and took it to your ear.

“Julie, I’m an idiot I think,” you greeted her and she paused for a moment.

“Hello to you too sunshine,” she said with a laugh. “What happened?”

“Well the good news is, Theo liked the school,” you said, looking out the window at the mansion. “But I miss him already. Do you think—”

“You’re not changing your mind about this, we talked about helicopter parenting,” she said. “It’s going to be good for him.”

“Right.”

“Is that why you’re freaking out?”

“Not really but I will cry about it,” you pointed out. “Tonight I’m guessing.”

“Didn’t expect anything else, I’m bringing drinks to your place,” she said. “So? What is it then?”

“There’s a very, very, very attractive man there,” you murmured and she hummed.

“Just so I get it clear, how attractive is he again?”

“Very.”

You could practically hear her grin. “Good.”

“It’s not good!” you whined. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

“It’s a part of your charm.”

“It really isn’t,” you said and looked down at your clothes. “And I look like a tax collector.”

“People other than tax collectors wear white shirts, we’ve been over that.”

“He thinks I’m a tax collector who can’t form a logical sentence,” you said, slipping a little in the driver’s seat to lean your knees to the steering wheel and she scoffed.

“Not really, he probably thinks you’re a—”

“We’re not calling me that,” you cut her off, making her laugh.

“Fine.”

You pinched your lip between your knuckles, then heaved a sigh.

“Theo will be okay, right?”

“He will be more than okay because he is going to be surrounded by the people who can in fact teach him how to use his powers, something you can’t do,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with getting a little help, sunshine.”

You clicked your tongue, still keeping your gaze on the mansion.

“So let me guess,” she said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “This very very very hot man is tall.”

“Yes.”

“Looks cocky.”

“Uh…”

“And older than you.”

You blinked a couple of times, pulling your brows together. “How did you—?”

“You have a type.”

You drummed your fingernails on the steering wheel, then heaved a sigh.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I…I doubt I’ll talk to him ever again and you know, with Theo, I just don’t have the time for anything else right now.”

“I’m going to convince you otherwise but I’m going to need drinks for that.”

You breathed out a laugh, then checked the time.

“Gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yep, love you!”

“Love you too!” you said and hung up, then tossed the phone on the passenger seat and started the car.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “I’m so gonna get drunk tonight.”

[2] - Summer Breeze

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[your-internet-bf]

I have a bad habit of looking at other people's phones in public. Someday, I think I'll look at a cute girl's screen and see the sorta shit I like - bondage, rape, deep, strong fucking. You'd scroll past as quick as you can, of course, since it's embarrassing to be caught looking at that in public... But I'd know.

It's not hard to follow people, especially in a city. Nobody expects to be followed; you'd never even notice. Maybe you catch a glimpse of me through the corner of your eye, but it's just a coincidence that I've been behind you the past eight blocks, right? Right?

I've been camping outside your place, watching through the window. It wasn't hard, and you haven't noticed anything more than a shadow. But it's dark out now, and very late, and I climb up to your window to get a better view.

I see you reclined in your bed, rubbing and pounding as hard as you can, your brow furrowed and your lips open in a silent moan as you try to hide your, what, fourth orgasm of the night? I watch, every inch of my cock throbbing, aching, waiting for my turn.

You turn off your phone, close your eyes, and you - raw, red, exhausted you - try to sleep. I wait a few minutes just to be sure, feeling myself over my clothes, before trying your window. It's a rush when I find it unlocked - you are EXACTLY the kind of girl I thought you were. Silently, the window slides open, and I follow the cool night air into your bedroom.

You're prettier up close. I've been studying you for hours now, of course, but I hadn't noticed just how soft your skin was, or how smooth your curves... I pull down your covers, revealing that you didn't bother to put anything on after you came. Your slick, abused cunt is so inviting; every cell in my body is screaming at me to tear you open with my cock, to ruin you, to pound your cervix up into your tummy, but there's something I need to do first...

I take a quick moment to undress, quietly, the soft clink of my belt buckle being the only sound other than our breathing, already starting to mix in the darkness. Then all at once I pounce, pushing you onto your front, gripping your waist from behind, and ramming my cock dry into your ass.

It hurts. I want it to hurt.

You're scared. I want you to be scared.

Maybe you've been with a guy before, maybe you haven't, maybe you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or spouse right now; it doesn't matter to me. With my size, every hole feels tight, especially a victim.

I feel you writhe beneath me, trying to get away, but I won't let you. I take one of my hands off your waist and, balling up your hair in one fist, wrench your head back.

"You," I whisper, my breath hot on your cheek, "aren't going anywhere, pretty girl."

I push your face down into your bed and keep going, pounding, breaking, raping your ass. You feel my breath on you, my sweat on you, the smell of me overwhelming even as I'm intoxicated by yours. I yank your head back up and take a deep breath in at the back of your neck, moaning as I breathe out. As I pause, you raise your hips into me, whimpering, and I know you need me to keep going.

Because you need it, don't you? You need a big, strong man, smelling like sweat and power, to rape you, don't you? To completely make you mine, to turn you into a sobbing, soaking mess, to mold you around my filthy, throbbing cock. Say it now, say that you need it, that you're a needy slut, say it out loud...

So I continue. Taking the other hand back to your waist, I redouble my work, straining inside you. I reach down to slap your soaking pussy and rub your wetness on me, and keep going. In and out, in and out, in and out, my girth spreading your ass so wide, so painfully, you can barely think. But I know you need it, and I'm so close now.

My breath comes faster, catching in my throat, and you feel a hard thrust, then another, another, another, and finally, I ram into you so hard we both collapse into your bed... And you feel the thick, white cum shoot into you. Warm, heavy, sticky, it fills your insides as my cock pulses thick and strong inside you, my breath warm on your neck as I force you to cockwarm me.

I kiss your soft, pretty skin as you sob into your pillow. I grind into you as I do, and my cum leaks out, a slow stream rolling down from your ruined ass towards that gaping, aching cunt. After a minute, I pull out, and push you onto your back. You get a brief glimpse at my face through the tears - long, long eyelashes framing deep gray eyes - before I steal a kiss. Your tears make it salty, and you feel me smile, pressed up against your lips.

"You needed it, didn't you?" I ask, still grinning.

Weakly, you nod. "Mhmm..." You draw in another shaky breath.

"Good, good girl." I lean back and reach for my cock - I'm still hard. I still need you.

You know what you are now. You'd suspected it before, but now you know what you are, what you need, and so do I. You spread your legs for me, this time willingly, begging me to come make you mine...

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, domestic violence, abuse, suicidal ideations, suicide attempts, accidental murder, death

gn reader

You should have never fallen in love with someone so brash, but you like seeing the good in people much to the abuse of your own. Still, rough around the edges as he was, you’d never thought he’d become such a monster.

The first time he slapped you, you were so shocked you’d ended up the one who apologized—all the way convinced you must have deserved it. And ever since then, you’ve only accumulated more bruises in areas you can’t explain.

You’re in the bathroom now. The door’s locked, but you don’t think it’ll keep him out for long.

“Open the door, babe—I didn’t mean it.”

You don’t even know if he has himself convinced of that or if he’s just saying it to soothe you. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that your wrist and rib are broken. You’re so terrified you think you might end up dying from the fear alone, sitting in the bathtub just waiting for the inevitable.

You don’t have a phone—it was taken when an old boyfriend had texted. You’d share his from then on, he said—better that way so he can keep track of you. It’s strange, but somehow, you believed it was rather romantic. 

You were going to leave this time. It would be so simple. He was at work, and you’d just leave everything and walk right out the door. But there was an incident at the office which made him come home early only to catch you red-handed heading out the door you know you’re not supposed to open without him.

You’d been so panicked you’d tried running—but there was really no chance. His arms caught you hard, and the floor he threw you back on met you even harder—hence the snapped bones.

Still, you’d managed to scramble to the bathroom with just enough time to lock it behind you.

And now you were left all out of options.

“Open the door, we’ll talk. Maybe I misunderstood.” His voice had calmed down now. He’d been at it for a while—he sounded more airy, teetering on frantic, and it only served to scare you even more. “I know it can get pretty cramped in ‘ere all alone. Maybe you were just getting some fresh air, is all?” He left the question a couple of seconds worth of breath before sending his fist into the door. “Come on, answer me!”

You were sobbing. He might actually kill you this time. God knows you’ve thought he would other times with both his hands wrapped tight around your throat, stringing you up, making you lose voice for days.

You thought about it—the razor blades in the drawer. It seemed like the only option left. Better you than him, right? He’d make it painful. Or worse, he might not go through with it at all, and you’d be stuck living with him forever.

That really did seem worse than death, you thought, sitting on the floor while holding the shiny metal piece to your wrist. Which way was best to cut again? Right. It’ll be quick, and then it’ll be over.

You don’t even hear the door breaking down before he’s on you. You don’t even realize you’ve cut before you see the red. You don’t even know whose blood it is before he gags on it—before it splutters from his mouth upon your face and the slice on his neck splits upon and gushes out like a waterfall all over your clothes.

He drops to the floor with a heavy thud a moment later.

The blood is so warm you don’t even understand how he’s dead.

You even think about stopping the bleeding for a moment, but then it suddenly settles. And then along, shortly after, the understanding that you’d killed him.

The razor hits the bloody tiles with no sound—it’s all so thick it splats before sinking, disappearing slowly. You swallow once, but you’re throat is all but dry. Even the tears had stopped in the shock.

You spot the phone on the floor, having slid from his pocket—moments away from drowning in the blood that seems to just continue seeping and spreading forever. Something within you grabs it before it can.

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Hi! Uhm… I’ve just killed my boyfriend.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou,��Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[suncoved]

SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

CHAPTER ONE — ENDLESS INTERACTIONS!

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: You return to the outer banks after moving away with your mother at 13, leaving your best friend Rafe, alone and confused with no way out. Now you're back, 6 years later.. and it's an absolute shit show.

series masterlist !

Rafe threw his head back as he snorted his first line of the night, the rush quickly making its way to his brain as his body relaxed. He sniffed more from the intrusion, scanning his eyes over the crowd of people at the party on a normal night in the outer banks.

"My boy knows how to party!" Topper enthusiastically claimed, walking up to Rafe who was sat around the glass table on the balcony.

"Shut up topper" He grumbled in reply, glancing over at the girl following behind his blonde friend. "Rafe, this is Marley. Said she wanted to get to know you"

The girl batted her eyelashes at Rafe, her legs glistening in her very short skirt. "not happening" Rafe replied, preparing the next round of his supply as he waved his hand at the pair in front of him to go away.

"Well, the king has spoken. Sorry Marls, he's been a bit grumpy for well.. always."

Rafe rolled his eyes at Topper's words, not even bothering to watch as the girl walked away begrudgingly.

"When are you gonna move on man, I mean we all loved her but.. she's not coming back." Topper sighed, sitting on the chair next to Rafe. "Shut the fuck up, you don't know the first thing about me and her. " He snapped back, his blood boiling at the mention of you, as it always did.

He was so angry.

So angry that you had left him without a goodbye. So angry that he couldn't hold your hand or cuddle you. So angry he couldn't just have you back.

But what made him the most angry, was that it wasn't angry at all.

He could never be angry at you. All he wanted was you back in his arms, but he knew that was never happening.

And he was yet to make peace with that fact.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"I've missed you so much!" Kie squealed as she ran into your arms, pushing you back as you giggled and hugged her. "I've missed you too Kie. It's been too long," you replied solemnly, pulling back to look at her face for the first time in years.

"Outerbanks hasn't been the same without you" Kiara replied, squeezing you extra tight as she pulled back. You just smiled in response, taking a deep breath of the fresh Obx air you didn't know you missed so much.

"Well c'mon, we have swimming to do." You giggled, pulling off your shirt and shorts to reveal your bikini underneath, feeling the soft sand between your toes.

You couldn't wait for her as she shimmed out of her clothes, looking at her and smiling before running to the water.

You had only been back in the Obx for a matter of hours, digging through your suitcase to find the first bathing suit you could see before running out of your house.

The feeling of the fresh, clear, water on your skin as you dived under waves was unmatched to anything you had felt before. Like before this, you had never even lived before.

All the worries and panic about coming back home dissipating the second you touched the sea.

You don't know how long you were swimming, but the second you came back to consciousness the sun was setting over the horizon.

As you swam back to the shore, you heard a bustle on the sand in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at the commotion, your feet finding their way to the sand below you as you walked out of the water.

Having only spent about 6 hours back in the Outerbanks, you hadn't yet become acquainted with the nightlife of the teenagers of Kildare.

You heard your name being yelled behind you as you walked up the beach to your towel and clothes, turning around to see Kiara now fully dry and fully dressed.

"Oh my god, you were swimming that whole time? I thought you went home!" Kie gasped as you noticed a red solo cup in her hand.

"I always lose track of time out there. What's all this?" you questioned, looking around at the crowds of teenagers and music pumping in your ears at the once peaceful boneyard.

"Kegger, Wait! C'mon, The boys will be so happy your back!" She enthusiastically replied, pulling you towards the crowds while you were still drying off with your towel.

"Wait Kie!" you gasped, much preferring that she gave you the chance to put on some clothes first.

"Guys! Look whose back" Kiara exclaimed, pulling you out from behind her to see the trio of troublemaking pouges from your childhood.

"Hey, no way! The kook princess is back in town" JJ gasped, pulling you in for a hug as you smiled. "Hey J"

You were never that close with the Pouges, because well you were never in the same circle as them. Though, Pope's dad Heyward knew your father from childhood and was at your house from time to time.

After exchanging hugs with the rest of the boys, they soon went into a conversation about god knows what, letting you have the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

You sighed to yourself as you walked down the beach, attempting to escape the commotion of the Kegger. It wasn't dark yet, so you found yourself sitting in the soft sand, staring at the waves in peace.

You were yet to see or hear of the Cameron boy you had been thinking about your whole life.

Wondering what he had been up to for the last 6 years of your life. Was he in college? What did he look like now? Was he tall, handsome?

You had endless amounts of questions, but you were still undecided if you actually wanted them to be answered.

You brought your legs into your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself, letting your head rest on your arms as you stared into the horizon.

You looked behind you as you heard voices, watching a girl climb onto a red buoy that had washed up on the shore. You squinted your eyes as you saw a familiar boy lend her a hand to get down.

Topper.

As Sarah looked over the shore from her view, she noticed you sat alone. And i mean, you're someone people never forget, and along with the fact she hadn't stopped hearing about you from her older brother since she could remember.

You hear your name from behind you as you turn, seeing Sarah run up to you with Topper following cluelessly behind.

"Hey Sarah" You sigh, trying to be as enthusiastic as possible but you can't help but crave silence right now.

"What're doing back here, I thought I'd never see you again" She exclaims, leaning down to hug you. "Can't get rid of me that quick"

"Hey Topper" You spoke, watching as he nervously peered at you behind Sarah.

As much as you loved Sarah, you guys were never close. Sure you could have a good conversation with her occasionally, but you were always closer to Topper, because well, where you went, Rafe went.

You watched as someone called Sarah's name, making her turn around and walk towards the voice. Leaving you and Topper alone on the shore.

Instead of following her, he took a seat next to you on the sand.

"We've missed you a lot y'know" He sighed, shuffling closer to you as you turned to him "He's not doing good, at all. He needs you"

You felt a tear making its way down your cheek at the mention of Rafe, turning away quickly to wipe it off your face. "See him soon alright, please"

With his last statement, he got up and left you to your thoughts.

When your mom decided to whisk you away back to the mainland, you didn't only lose your father and all you knew, but the love of your life as well.

You and Rafe were inseparable, and you had always wondered what your life would be like if you never had left.

You looked over the crowd at Kie, who was having fun and laughing with her friends. Deciding against having the whole 'I'm going home now' conversation where you knew she was going to try to get you to stay, you walked the length of the beach back to your house.

You didn't even know how you would go about seeing Rafe again. Were you gonna show up to his house and offer milk and cookies, or hide from him for the rest of your life until you could have plastic surgery to change your face so he couldn't recognise you?

Probably the latter.

You held your shoes in your hands as you walked up the staircase to your room, your dad nowhere in sight, and the house as quiet as it was in your childhood.

You sighed as you flicked the light on in your room, the sky outside now pitch black.

You immediately start pulling off your shirt and shorts which were over your bikini. The mixture of the sand and the still-damp swimsuit making you squirm.

You look over to your balcony and realise your curtains are still open, making the wise decision that you should probably shut them before completely stripping, you walk over to the window.

You reach to each side of the fabric, beginning to pull them into each other before your eyes are cast to the light in front of you from outside.

You look over to the bedroom opposite yours out the window, clothes strewn across the floor, the bed unmade... Oh! and your childhood best friend staring right at you in utter shock.

Shoot, there goes your master plan.

[reshinless]

10 minutes. a drabble of fingering ++ dry humping (and a bit of eating you out) w/ spiderman!kinich in his suit.

spiderman!kinich who gets easily stressed, the pressure of being a superhero all kinds of people look up to get to him easily surprisingly for a guy who's usually stoic all the time, not caring for anyone outside of his little circle of friends.

but spiderman!kinich misses you while at work, even on the job when there's no villain in sight, or simply waiting on the criminal for let's say 30-ish minutes or so- he'll swing by the shared apartment you both share.

spiderman!kinich accidentally lets out his anger on you, but quickly being interrupted by a kiss (from you). you knew he'd never tell you these things, he barely opened up about himself back when you two first met, and now that he loved you, you knew he wouldn't throw this away unless emotions took the best of him.

spiderman!kinich who just as easily returns the kiss to you, it was clear when his tongue spoke for him- he was hungry. almost as if he planned for this to happen.

spiderman!kinich suddenly pins you down to the couch, your head on the armrest of it as he kisses down your nape, caressing your cheek with his gloved hand. going as far as to kiss down to your stomach, about to strip you of your pants until you quickly informed him you'd be in an interview soon enough.

spiderman!kinich had no problem straddling you on his lap, laying down on the armrest instead, using your clothed cunt to rub against his 'stress boner' (or whatever he calls it).

it was just that little push, and now he didn't have to do much. letting you do all the work; watching you squirm, and pushing yourself into his dick, but when you get tired.. he'll use the strength in his palms to make sure you both finish into your clothing <3

but that's a last resort. he talks you through it anyway.

"mhm, that's my girl." he hums of approval, watching how you rubbed your clothed cunt onto the tip of his cock ughh!! "uhuh.. that's right, I know you can do more."

spiderman!kinich who loves to praise you. groaning as the grasp on your thigh gets a little tighter to sign to you how he was feeling good. a sign for you to keep going.

spiderman!kinich loved to watch your head throw back, along with your velvety tongue loll out, feeling his shaft increasingly harden against your pussy.

spiderman!kinich didn't have the time to take off his suit sadly, but it definitely defined his abs a lot better. hhhh you could only moan to imagine what it'd be like to ride them.

spiderman!kinich who let you on your back, to rub his digits against the fabric of your panties under the short pencil skirt you decided on for the interview later on.

"so soaked.. just from a bit of humping?" he cooed into your ear, slowly pushing your underwear to the side. slowly fitting his fingers into your hole, one at a time.

the air felt heavy with the musky scent of sweat. strands of hair stuck to your forehead, your eyes glance over to the clock- ten minutes before your interview. spiderman!kinich looked over to the time as well, he could make you cum before that time was up, no problem.

spiderman!kinich who only fingered your hole faster, watching each second tick down to nine minutes, hearing the loud squelched your hole made each time.

adding another digit, you had already creamed onto his fingers. that's one, he made eye contact with you, knowing you couldn't keep your eyes open because of how much you were feeling down there.

his eyes analyzed the way your eyebrows knit each time he hit that one spot, so.. what if he kept curling his fingers against it right after you've just came?

well, the short answer to that was you would cum again, licking it off his fingers, licking his lips right afterward.

his hand pried your legs open, enough to spread it wide enough for his head to fit under your skirt, his tongue taking a dip into your delicious cunt. you couldn't help but clench around his fingers that worked at your hole before. that was 6 minutes.

the way his tongue started to coat your already-wet clit with saliva had your orgasm start to build up once again, adding a third finger into your hole only made it worse, or better in his point of view at least.

his fingers started to work exceedingly fast, or was it coincidentally about to his 3 minutes before the clock would hit 6:25. it's fine if you were a few minutes late right? he's pretty fast at swinging with his webs.

kissing your clit, making sure his tongue would have a long-lasting effect onto it, his started to lap your succus faster than before, not to mention the way your back arched from the sudden jump in pace.

"mmmf- kin i- i'm.. g'na be late!" you said, your hands fumbling everywhere, not knowing where to put themselves. you threw your head back with a whine of his name. he simply hummed as a reply, sending vibrations to your pussy.

there it was- you finally came, squirting onto his face, and landing onto his fingers. licking the aftertaste for a few more seconds, you had to detatch him personally off your delicious taste, making a pop sound.

"you.. don't really need that job, do you?"

"kinich!!"

[eroselless]

LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Summary: You and Lando have been friends for years, dancing around your feelings and avoiding the tension between the two of you. What happens when there's only one spot left in the car? [1.7k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 2 - I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, sorta dry humping, light fingering and cursing. If there's any I missed let me know!

Note: as the poets say, i’m a slut for Lando <3 

I was inspired by this tik tok and this fic by uluvjay

Anywaaays, let me know if I should do a part twooo

Lando's eyes can't help but wander over your figure as you sit next to him at dinner. His gaze traces the curves of your body accentuated by the dress you mentioned to him just the week before. The fabric clings to your body in all the right places, exuding an allure that is both captivating and refined. He notices how the colour of the fabric makes your eyes look brighter and emphasizes the features of your body that he always finds himself drawn to. You look completely at ease in your chair, a half-empty glass of wine dangling casually from your fingertips.

He's pulled from his thoughts by a voice across the table. "What's the plan?" Carlos inquires, his hands clasped together in front of him as he gazes out at Lando. He blinks, processing what his ex-teammate just asked him. He hesitates for a second.

"I think I'm ready to head back to the hotel," he replies, meeting your eyes briefly for confirmation. You nod in agreement, your silent support bolstering his decision. A chorus of voices clamours at you, George, Alex, and Pierre opting to go out for a few more drinks and dancing. You shake your head, swirling the glass in your fingers.

"I think I'll head back too," you say, setting the glass down with a decisive clink. Max nods in agreement, Pietra clinging to his arm as they prepare to leave as well. You all begin to file out, congregating in the foyer of the restaurant for some quick goodbyes.

Lily wraps her arms around you in a farewell embrace, a pout evident on her face as she whispers promises of future hangouts before hurrying to rejoin her awaiting boyfriend. Alex gives you a wave from afar, a gentle smile playing at the corner of his lips, and they join the rest of the group as they make their way towards their car.

You walk out, trailing close behind Lando. Your hand is tucked into the pocket of his blazer jacket, a silent yet comforting gesture that keeps you near him. The air is filled with conversations as you make your way to the car that awaits you. Everyone begins to pile into it, Max taking his place behind the wheel with Pietra by his side while Carlos sits in the back with Charles.

"Oh, shit—" you hear Lando mutter suddenly as he scans the remaining space. There's only one spot left in the car, next to Carlos. With a slight grimace, you watch as he waves his hand in the air as if to say, no mind that. Lando takes his place next to his friend, ushering you into the car as well. Your eyebrows furrow together as he gestures for you to climb in his lap.

You hesitantly sit down, pulling the door closed behind you. You had always been rather close to Lando, even going past the confines of friendship, blurring the lines. You'd always be stealing his clothes, his t-shirt, sweatpants, sweaters. He'd always find comfort in your body heat, curling up at your side to sleep or have a cuddle. You were essentially attached at the hip.

You'd grown accustomed to the flashes of cameras and the photos circling online on social media. Often, people would question if you were dating, but the answer would always remain the same—no. Not that either of you didn't want to, but you'd been friends for a few years, and Lando intended to keep you by his side as long as he could. He prioritized your bond over potentially complicating things by introducing romance to the mix.

This feels like entirely new territory, sitting in his lap with his hands hovering above your thighs, the faint scent of your perfume teasing his senses as you settle in. He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement surge through him. If you leaned back, he feared you'd be able to feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat underneath the layers of muscle that encase his chest.

As you lean forward to grasp the seat in front of you, Lando can feel his breath catch in his throat as he becomes hyper-fixated on your movements. He can't help but bite his lip as a flush rises to his cheeks, struggling to take his eyes away from where your figure is nestled in his lap. The softness of your touch sears through him.

His eyes dart nervously to Carlos, hoping to find some reprieve from the intense feelings brewing in him. The Spaniard raises an eyebrow at him in silent amusement, a smirk playing on his lips before turning back to Charles and resuming their conversation. With a gentle shake of his head, Lando tears his gaze away, opting to watch the lights go by outside.

He watches as the pavement gradually gives way to rougher terrain beneath the car’s tires, signaling the road to their hotel nestled on the outskirts of the city. Max turns the music up, trying to muffle the crunch of the wheels on the gravel. The transition is palpable, the rumbling of the road sending vibrations through the vehicle. Your position suddenly feels uncomfortable and you begin to shift in your spot, momentarily forgetting that he can feel your every move.

A sudden bump jostles you from your spot and you can feel Lando’s hands tighten slightly over your skin. You try your best to stay still, only shifting again when the car goes over another bump. A whispered plea cuts through the tense air, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Please stop moving.” he murmurs, voice strained. The heat that spreads through you only intensifies as you feel his grip on you tighten, your hands clenching onto Pietra’s seat in response.

“Sorry,” you whisper back, trying to sound as sincere as you can, to sound like you weren’t thinking about how hard he was beginning to feel under you. Lando’s fingers press harder into your thighs. The bumps keep coming and you struggle to keep from moving. The air around you feels as if it's getting hotter as you continue to move against him. Next to you, Carlos and Charles are dozed off, completely unaware of the tension rising just next to them.

You can feel Lando breathing down your back, having placed his forehead at the nape of your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. He’s breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your skin. His breath is coming out in broken fragments as he struggles to keep it under control. His fingers are now fanned out on your thighs, just inches from the hem of your dress. He’s almost tempted to slip his fingers under it. He bites down on his lip, a futile attempt to hide how much he’s enjoying the moment. The bumps in the road continue to make his heart pound, freezing his hands in place.

Desperate for some relief, he tries to lean back into the seat. The ache building in his cock is almost unbearable. He pushes his hips forward, inadvertently bucking them up and now it's your turn to try to keep quiet. You feel yourself hang off of the seat in front of you, back arching slightly.

His gaze is now trained on the curve of your ass in his lap and he can't help the sigh that falls from his lips. He so badly wants to surrender himself to the allure of the moment, so many years of yearning for you building up to this very night. 

You reach a hand down to grab one of his, intertwining your fingers in a silent plea for more. You feel as if you are skating on thin ice as you encourage his hand to move under your dress. A gasp threatens to make its way past your lips as he follows your lead and dips a hand between your legs. Pushing your knees out ever so slightly, his fingers delve deeper, and you find yourself teetering toward the edge of ecstasy.

You both begin to shift in time, the pad of his thumb just barely pressing into the button of your clit and your ass rubbing perfectly against his cock. With each subtle movement, your senses ignite, the friction sending waves of pleasure rippling through the both of you.

“Oh god…” Lando’s voice is a mere whisper, hardly reaching your ears over the hum of the car and pounding of the music. His fingers move in slow circles, you feel as if the pleasure could consume you whole. With every flicker, your teeth dig harder into your lip, and you swear you could draw blood.

You can see the hotel lights from here, light seeping into the car. Panic sets in as you freeze in the seat, hands and hips coming to a complete halt. You can feel Lando shaking underneath you, his cheeks a bright pink. His chest is heaving as he tries to take shallow and quiet breaths. You each try to compose yourselves and you lean back in his lap, pulling his hands out from the fabric of your dress.

The tension in the air is palpable as the car comes to a stop, Max putting it in park and announcing to the sleeping men that you’ve arrived. You bite your lip at the innuendo that goes over everyone’s heads. Not quite, Max.

Lando’s hands take their spot on your thighs again, just as they were at the beginning of the ride. They stick slightly to your exposed skin, a testament to the desire that simmers between the two of you. You can see them twitch as if they’re still itching for more. He smiles weakly at you as you step out of the car, blaming the tight confines of the car for your flushed cheeks.

You don't miss how he gingerly sticks the pads of his fingers in his mouth or how he shoves his hands into his pockets, adjusting his pants as he does so. You blink away the last of the haze in your eyes as you quickly and quietly follow him up to your shared hotel room.

[navybrat817]

Back Off, He's Mine

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.

Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.

“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”

“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”

He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”

“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.

His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.

Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”

Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.

You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.

“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.

“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”

Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.

It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.

“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”

She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”

“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.

“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.

Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.

“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”

Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.

“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”

Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.

Defending each other was second nature, always would be.

Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.

“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.

You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”

The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.

“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”

She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”

“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”

You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”

Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”

You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”

An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”

“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”

You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”

“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”

She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.

You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”

It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.

Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”

“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”

She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”

“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.

A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”

You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”

“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.

“You think she’ll back off now?”

“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”

He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”

Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.

They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.

And you couldn't wait for more.

Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

[wandasaura]

DRESS

summary — when the dress you wear to wanda’s halloween party catches the eye of a few too many people, natasha’s left with no other choice than to punish you

warning(s) — light elements of dom/sub dynamics, nipple torture/stimulation, thigh grinding, clothed sex, tit slapping, dirty talk, begging, pussy slap, orgasm denial, men/minors dni

kinktober

In retrospect, you definitely shouldn’t have worn your tightest, shortest, skimpiest black dress to Wanda’s dinner party when you know she loves to check you out without regard for whose around, but the soft satin had called your name the second your eyes had fallen on it hanging so tantalizingly in your shared closet with Natasha. It had been an impulsive, very expensive purchase for your three year anniversary, and truthfully, it hadn’t seen many nights out since. Probably because Natasha couldn’t keep her hands off of you when it hugged your body just right, and her friends couldn’t keep their eyes off of your chest, especially not when you dressed the swell of your breasts in the finest gold body glitter, your neck decorated with a dainty gold chain that practically begged for attention. 

It was her annual halloween dinner party, one filled with festive cocktails made by Agatha, some of them involving rubber spiders that gave you the chills just thinking about, and dry ice flowing out of bowls of questionably green liquor. Wanda threw an amazing party, especially when she had a theme to stick with, but this year, your fourth year going as Natasha’s date, you had more or less signed up to be the main attraction without realizing. Natasha had realized. She’d known what kind of attention you were in for the second you met her at the bottom of the stairs, your hair curled and brushed out over your shoulders, your dark eyeliner sleek and captivating almost as much as your bold red lip, but you had been ignorantly unaware of how when you bent over, your ass hung out of the bottom of your dress, or how your nipples pebbled against the satin material and allowed an easily made visual of your perky breasts for anyone to fantasize. There wasn’t any time for you to change, not that she would ever ask that of you, but as the night drew on longer, her jealousy rivaled the color of the punch; green and passionately dominant. 

A soft mewl fell off of your lips as her fingers pinched and prodded at your nipples through the thin material of your dress, her front flush against yours, her hands pinned between your warm bodies that had slipped into your apartment ever so drunkenly. You’d both had your fair share of cocktails, never able to resist Agatha’s creations, they were truly something magical, but as your sobriety diminished, replaced by intoxicated careless energy, the hem of your dress wrinkled higher and higher up your thighs until Wanda had been the one to pull it down, right in sight of Natasha who bristled with anger. 

Her delicate black suit was a wrinkled masterpiece beneath your desperate fingers, lapels gripped between your painted black nails as your hips ground down on the slack covered thigh she so meticulously placed between your trembling legs, flush against your core that was covered by only a thin strip of sodden lace. Breathless moans fell into the air as you chased your pleasure, head thrown back against the bedroom door she’d pinned you to impatiently. Your bed lay unmade a few feet away, but Natasha had no interest in laying you down and spreading you out. So much of your body had been seen already, so much teasing had already been done, she’d had enough of it, it was her turn to return the favor. 

Her skin was littered with the shade of your lipstick, a collage of your affection and arousal painted across her skin in sloppy kiss marks, her neck bearing the majority of the evidence. A sharp whine shattered your composure when she flexed her thigh just right, angled so perfectly against your core that your clit had been the thing that felt her muscle tense just right. Her fingers worked at your nipples, never slipping beneath the satin material that was slowly falling down your shoulders and revealing more of your breasts that glimmered beneath the eerie moonlight of October. 

“Do you know what you do to me?” She growled against the shell of your ear, your sensitive lobe pinched between her teeth as she husked against you possessively. Rarely did you give her a reason to be so possessive, wrapped around her finger near embarrassingly so, yet whenever Wanda was around, somehow it was unavoidable. “Wearing this dress, those heels. God, I wanted to take you over the island so bad. They were all looking at you anyways; at these tits, that ass– I should've given them a show, made it worth all the stares. Should’ve let them hear the way you whine when I play with your pretty nipples, when that desperate cunt gets some attention. Would you like that, baby? Showing them just how much I own this perfect body?” The pinching and twisting had turned to full on groping, her palms creating friction against your pebbled buds as she squeezed your breasts with both hands, uncaring for how cruel her touch was, nor how desperate you were for more. 

“Y-Yes!” Your desperate moans and pleading whimpers had only grown louder, reverberating off the walls dressed in pictures of both you and Natasha during various stages of your relationship, driving her own desperation higher, pulling her beneath your alluring hex. “God please, please don’t stop! Nat!” You moaned softly, your eyes pinched shut as you allowed your head to fall forward, uncaring for how your lips marked her suit with dark patches of red, just needing her close as you felt the tension of pleasure building so steadily in your belly it was bound to break soon. 

“I won’t baby. Not yet. Not until I’m done with you. Not until I’ve reminded this pretty body of who it belongs to.” There had been no warning for the distance that came between your chests in the seconds that followed her admission of possession, but it made sense when her palm collided with the satin covering your sensitive breasts, the padded slap ringing through the room almost as blindingly as the sensation of pleasurable pain that sparked through your belly. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you rocked harder against her thigh, desperate for her to take you to bed, to undress you hungrily and uncover the lingerie that that dug into your hip bones and marked their claim; her claim. You’d bought  for her, thought of her when you slipped it on. They were an extension of her ownership and nothing less, and desperately you wanted to feel her beneath it. 

“Off. Please. Take my dress off. Touch me. Please.” You begged so sweetly she almost wanted to give in, but she had to punish you, there was a lesson to be learned, and she had you so pliant beneath her hands there was no greater time than now. 

“Oh no, baby. You wanted to wear this dress. You let everybody see how good you look in it. I’m gonna make you feel so good, so so good, but we’re not taking it off. It stays on until I’m done.” She husked against the shell of your ear, her teeth tugging at your earlobe as she rocked her thigh against you, adding friction that had stars being painted across your vision. A delicate whimper fell into the air, soft and impatient as you ground down against her, desperate for more, but already so impossibly close. Another slap came to your other breast, the same stinging pleasurable sensation, and that was it. That was what you needed. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she hadn’t even really touched you at all, that your panties stuck grossly to your folds that were sodden with sticky ropes of tantalizing arousal. She’d pushed you to your end, tightened that blissful coil impossibly so. 

“Oh! Oh! I’m cumming! I’m gonna cum! I–” It was gone. Her warmth, her delicious touch on your nipples, her thigh between your leg pressed flush against your core. It was gone, but that coil wasn’t, and desperately your hips moved to an uneven rhythm against the cold air, searching for friction that wasn’t there. “No! No, I– I was so close! Nat, I was so close!” The words fell off of your tongue in pathetic sobs of dismay and defeat, your body threatening to grumble as that addictive sensation ebbed away, leaving only a dull pulsing in your clit and emptiness in your pulsating hole. You could feel the effects of the denial, the disappointment and dissatisfaction, but everything white hot and pleasurable was gone, leaving only the distaste of nothingless left for you to grasp. “Please.” You hated this sensation each time she brought it forward, and she knew that. 

“Oh no baby, you don’t get to cum tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But tonight, you’re just going to have to try and ignore how that feels. I bet its so achey, sweet girl. I bet its just dull enough that if you think about something else, you won’t feel it at all, but you’re such a desperate girl, so eager for me, you can’t think about anything else. Can you? Can you think about anything else baby, or is that needy cunt doing all the thinking for you?” As if to accentuate her point, her hand slipped beneath your dress for the first time that night, cupping your cunt, grinding her fingers against your clit, probing at your entrance until you were nearly weeping for her again. It wasn’t gone so easily this time, because when she went to pull away, when you thought you were losing everything for the second time, her palm slapped against your core, the sound wet and harsh against the silence of your bedroom. A weak moan fell off your lips, your hips, with a mind of their own, attempting to grind down on her fingers, addicted to the sharp sparks of pain she caused, but she was gone again, and again you were left with only a beating in your sensitive clit that wouldn’t be taken care of. “Maybe tomorrow.” Is all that she left you with before she disappeared into the closet, the sound of her pants hitting the floor indicative of what she was doing; going to bed. You were needy, and desperate for pleasure, and she was just going to bed. 

Not wanting to argue, not wanting to draw this out for longer than necessary, you followed her motions, slipping off the dress, and then the lingerie that you had hoped she’d be the one to take off, and crawling into bed with only the thought of ‘maybe tomorrow’ on your mind.

[kittenintheden]

When I Think About You

surprise jorkin it PWP fic drop lol. enjoy.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Reader (You) Word Count: 1550 Content: 18+, jealousy, voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation (sort of?), pillow humping, gender-neutral Tav/Reader

AO3 Link

You went to bed early tonight.

Well, earlier than you typically do. Not that Astarion has been paying you much attention. Hardly any, really. You’re just easy to miss.

Notice. You’re easy to notice. Because you’re so obvious.

Obviously annoying, obviously infuriating, obviously determined, and obviously infatuated with him. True, that had been his goal, but hells, you could blush a little less at his come-ons. Even if it does look cute on you.

Not that he thinks you’re cute. Not really.

The others are packing up their gear and turning in for the night. Astarion will take first watch like he typically does, have a quick trance, and get up in the early morning hours for a hunt. Easy. Routine.

So what if he’s falling into a routine with these people. It makes things simpler.

He should check on you. Just to make sure you’re not ill. For his health more than yours. These days, a headache could mean a rapid onset of calamari face. He’s doing everyone a favor, honestly.

When he approaches your tent, his steps slow to a stop as his ears pick up noise from inside your tent. You aren’t asleep.

And by the sound of it – and it’s a sound Astarion knows well – you aren’t alone.

He huffs an irritated breath through his nose. Gods damn it. He really thought he had you in the bag. There’s a shard of something sharp lodged beneath his rib. Annoyance, probably. Disappointment that he’s back to square one. Bitterness that he lost another competition, even when he’s doing what he does best.

Astarion turns to walk away. Takes three steps. Stops. Turns his head back toward the sound.

Who is it?

Who are you with?

He has his suspicions, but might as well take a quick peek to verify. His steps as he approaches are catlike. Not that you’d notice anyway, preoccupied as you are. He won’t look much. Only enough to see who stole his prize.

His mark. Who stole his mark.

Astarion pauses at the far side of your closed tent flap and finds a gap in the cloth. He leans in, eyes keen in the dark, and his mouth goes dry when he sees your hips grinding against someone, the length of your body pressed tight to theirs while you move over them. A blanket covers you both, but it doesn’t hide the passion of your movement.

He jerks his head away, a ball of tension aching in his gut. Ridiculous. He should go kill something. He walks toward the woods.

And stops with a sigh.

Astarion hates himself for it, this burning curiosity to know exactly who you’re riding so enthusiastically. Steeling himself, he creeps back and peeks once more through the split in the fabric.

You’re sitting up, now, showing him the long line of your spine in the center of your bare back as your hips continue to work. Every puff of breath through your lips is desperate, occasionally lilting up in a breathless moan.

Astarion worries his lip between his teeth. The muscles beneath your skin ripple, your blood thrumming so close and smelling so much of you, sweetened with the scent of arousal. If you’d just lean a little one way or the other, he could see who’s working you so… so…

There’s a flash of heat in his core followed by a sparking current of electricity, setting everything alight. He’d been doing his best to ignore the steady swell of his cock, but ignoring it is no longer an option as he goes hard as stone, the length of him straining toward his hip bone. Subconsciously, he cants his hips into the empty air and finds absolutely no relief. He has to swallow back a soft moan of his own.

The rolling globes of your arse are shaped perfectly beneath your thin wool blanket. Sharp, rocking thrusts against your playmate, against whichever lucky wretch currently feels the sticky heat of you while he watches.

Astarion lets his hand drift to the front of his breeches and sucks his breath in through his teeth when his palm grazes firmly over the covered head of his cock.

 You run a hand up your side and feel your own chest, maintaining your rhythm as you whimper.

Astarion’s fingers move to loosen his laces, lips parted as he begins to softly pant.

Your hand moves back down and you’re… yes, you’re putting your fingers between your legs, and you throw your head back with a gasp.

His fingers dip below his waistband and he curls in on himself with a huff as he takes himself in hand and begins to pump. Once, twice… ah, gods, that’s nice.

Though being under you would be even nicer.

Lucky sod. Who is it?

The blanket slips down over the curve of your arse, falling to one side and his breath catches as he realizes he’s about to get his answer.

Fabric falls aside and your incredible arse is grinding back and forth. You’re riding yourself to absolute delirium with…

A spare bedroll.

Astarion’s hand stutters to a stop and he doesn’t even breathe as realization hits him. You weren’t with someone else at all. The whole time, you’ve been furiously fucking yourself, grinding needily against your bedding for relief.

And somehow, some way, that makes him even harder. He mouths “oh, fuck” and goes back to stroking himself with renewed vigor. 

You’re desperately aroused, no longer trying to quiet your whimpers as you work your hips in circles against the bedroll while you rub yourself at the same time, your shoulders flushed with need. Your body undulates in wave after wave and Astarion feels quite certain that if he were inside you right now, he’d have come already. He puts his free hand over his mouth, pressing his palm to his lips to keep quiet.

You make a frustrated noise and swing your leg off the bedroll, and for a brief alarming moment, Astarion thinks you’re about to give up, and there’s no way he could let that stand. For either of you.

But then you shove the bedroll away with a huff and flop onto your back without opening your eyes, which is good news for Astarion, since you’d almost certainly see the silhouette of him outside your tent if you were paying attention. Instead, you spread your legs wide and give him a glorious view as one hand returns to its place between your legs and is quickly joined by the other.

Astarion shudders out a breath, the sound thankfully masked by your own rapid pants as you stroke yourself with one hand and trace around your entrance with the other. When you push two fingers inside and begin to pump in and out, Astarion’s knees threaten to give out as he picks up his pace. The tide of pleasure in his core rises and threatens to crest.

Gods, gods, he isn’t even fucking you and you’re still going to make him come before you do.

Your pretty little moans are too much. Your furrowed brow, your flushed cheeks, the way your thighs twitch and your belly shivers with the pleasure you’re lavishing on yourself. What a beauty you are, what a treat, what a-

“-arion,” you whisper, so quietly that he nearly misses it.

“Hah,” he breathes, his pleasure shuddering right on the edge of its peak. His mind must’ve filled that in. There’s no way you said what he thought you said.

He presses his face to the split in the fabric and leans against the tentpole, jerking himself firmly as he watches you arch your back up off the ground, lifting your hips into the air again, again, again, until your hands slow.

“Oh, Astarion,” you whisper just before you slam back down to earth and groan out your release, your slick making your skin shine in the low light.

“Sh-”

Astarion slams his hand over his mouth and ducks to the side, sinking silently to the ground around the corner of your tent just before he creams himself, a pulse of spend striping the ground beneath him, followed by another, and another. His head hangs heavily before him as he catches his breath and dazedly tries to piece together what the fuck just happened.

He sits back, chest heaving and ears ringing.

Then whips his head to the side when he hears you stir inside the tent and tentatively say, “... Hello? Is someone there?”

Astarion holds his breath, which does not help with his current state of floaty lightheadedness.

Then you say, “... Astarion?”

And the sound of his name on your lips sends another ripple of pleasure through him as his cock pulses and drips one last time for good measure.

It takes a minute, but you eventually convince yourself you were hearing things and settle down to sleep, presumably in a more relaxed state than when you first retired. Astarion waits until your breathing slows before he sneaks away, silently tucking himself back into his clothes.

He holds his breath the entire time.

On the other side of camp inside the safety of his own tent, he releases it in a rush, running his unused hand through his curls as realization finally catches up to him.

“Oh, no,” he whispers.

[reredaydreams]

Red Lace || Jeon Jungkook

Paring: bf!jungkook x f.reader

Summary: on a rainy day, Jungkook has fun with reader in a car.

Warning: this contains mature content, 18+

Content: car sex, public sex, tit sucking, fingering, riding, cowgirl, neck biting, smut, fluff, at the beach, mature, red lace bra, established relationship

Wc: 3.8k

Masterlist, Chapter 2

“Oh, you're back—'' Jungkook began to say as he looked up from his phone, but halts as he takes in your appearance. It wasn’t anything special; your wet hair flying backwards with the slight breeze of the air, a few tiny strands sticking to your forehead. You were just wearing a short-sleeved white shirt, and gray shorts that reached your lower thigh. The shirt, however, was the perfect tightness as it hugged your chest beautifully, while a red, lace bra slightly visible through the thin cotton material.

“Sorry, the line in the washroom was so long. People are starting to leave early today, probably because it looks like it’s going to rain” you say as you take a seat on the lavender picnic blanket, drying your hair with a towel

Today’s weather was amazing. The sun was shining, giving warmth to your skin, but it wasn’t too hot either, as there was a slight breeze of air. To enjoy the day to the fullest, you and Jungkook had decided to head to the beach.

So here you were, after taking a swim in the sea with him, sitting on the blanket, situated near a tree, allowing for shade and air to circulate around the spot.

Jungkook’s eyes had followed your movements, observing every detail. His eyes flicker to your chests, before slowly making their way to your eyes, which we’re already looking at him.

A slight playful smile rests on your lips, as you glance at Jungkook with soft eyes. Jungkook gulps before returning a cute smile, “ are people that afraid to get wet!?” He exclaimed , with an exaggerated expression. “ It's not acid rain or something. These people need to chill.”

You couldn’t help but smile widely at the cute expressions he was making while expressing his disappointment for these people.

“What, why are you smiling? Y/n, babe, are you scared of getting wet as well? Jungkook says, trying to sound serious, but couldn’t fully hide the smile on his lips.

“Ya, I am, and what about it, huh?” You said with a playful, challenging expression.

Jungkook gasped. ”Oh no, you're one of them,” he said, with a shocked expression. “don’t tell me, you're going to stop loving me just because of that?” You questioned back, acting to be hurt.

“No, that’s something that’s never going to happen. However, we will need to get rid of this fear of yours, and what other way than direct exposure.” Jungkook answered with playful eyes.

“No, you wouldn’t do that!?” You exclaimed with an exaggerated gasp. You both stared at each other before bursting into laughter.

“But no, seriously why do people get so wary of the rain?” Jungkook questioned.

“I don’t know? I guess just humans being humans” you replied back, laying on the blanket, while putting your head on his thigh.

Jungkook was already sitting on the blanket, legs extended out and crossed at the ankles. He was leaning on his arms, as his eyes were looking intently at you. His eyes traced every curve of your body, from the legs to the hips to the curves of your chest. The slight red visible through the cloth wasn't helping Jungkook much, it just made the imagination run more wild.

“Jungkook. I can feel your eyes on me. Were you checking me out?” You asked, turning her head to look up at jungkook.

Jungkook flushed a bit, having been caught in the act, before replying.

“Of course I was! Why wouldn't I when you're wearing that shirt.” Jungkook said proudly.

“In fact, I say we get to the car, and take it off, with everything else”

“JUNGKOOK!! Is this all you ever think about?” You exclaimed.

“Hey!! It’s not my fault that my partner is so hot!” He said, crossing his arms around his chest, trying to act serious.

You sat up, putting your hands on either side of Jungkook, and bringing your face closer to his. “Oh really? You always say that as your excuse. Seriously, you ne—“ you halted mid sentence, getting distracted by the people in the back, packing up, hastily making their way to their cars, as it had slightly begun to drizzle.

While you were distracted, Jungkook snaked his arm around your waist, bringing all your attention back to him.

His eyes gazed deeply into you, “seriously, what love?” Jungkook said, his eyes traveling to her lips. He brought his face closer to hers, stopping just inches before their lips would meet.

“Jungkook!” You whined. “Stop, there are too many people here, and I am not an exhibitionist like you.”

“You say? Then who was the one who trapped me between their arms, trying to tease me?” Jungkook questioned.

Getting a bit annoyed Y/N lightly pushed him on the shoulder before getting up and fixing her shorts.

Jungkook held on to Y/N’s hand before questioning her about where she was going.

“No where!” You expressed with slight annoyance. “I’m just going to pack up a few things incase the rain gets worse”

He let go of your hand as you started working on the task, jungkook helping you as well.

Once the stuff was packed up, you and Jungkook sat against the tree that was right next to the picnic blanket. Your head rested on his chests and your arms around his waist. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you warm.

The sight in front of you was breathtaking. The dark clouds shadowing over the ground. The raindrops’ dent gently kisses the waves on the water of the sea. The crisp sound of the light drizzle hitting the ground was bliss to your ears. The environment and the presence of your lover felt calm and just like home.

Until it wasn’t anymore. The thunder started to pick up and the rain came down hard. You and Jungkook collected all your belongings and ran to your car in the parking lot, which was already empty as everyone had already left. By the time you made it into the car, you both were soaking wet.

The car was faint, the mix of yours and Jungkook's heavy breaths from running could be heard scattered with the sound of rain smacking on the surface of your car window, which made nothing outside visible.

Your appearance was a sight to behold, the small wet strands of hair sticking to your forehead, and the red lace bra that was slightly visible through your white shirt beforehand, was now prominently seen along with some skin. Despite the deceived look, you looked rather hot and sexy. A candy for the eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes were on you, devouring the candy they had been given.

“It’s raining quite badly outside and not much is visible. We should stay put for the time being." Jungkook informed you.

You hummed in response, eyes still closed and resting against the headrest. As you caught your breath, you could feel someone staring intensely at you. That someone being none other than jungkook.

Slightly opening your eyes you looked towards him, arching your eyebrow in a questioning way.

Jungkook’s corner lip turned crescent. “Since we are going to be here for a while, don’t you think we should have some fun?” There was a mischievous look in eyes, and you understood exactly what he meant by fun.

“Fun. Seriously, huh?” You questioned “Ya, what do you say?” He questions back, while leaning towards your seat. His eyes traveled to your lips, as he licked his own lips, and looked back into yours.

“No. I’m tired, I’m going to rest for a bit. I don’t want to have fun.” You asserted, closing your eyes and resting your head. Your statement made the playful smile that rested on Jungkook's face vanish.

You could sense Jungkook residing back into his seat, before a sound of an angry exhalation of breath made its way to your ears. Jungkook had his arms crossed over his chest, his lip forming a small pout.

“Jungkook” you called out, looking towards him, only to be completely ignored as he continued to gaze out the window; there was nothing visible outside as the heavy rain made the visibility very low.

“Jungkook” you called out once more, only to be met with his silence once again.

Your arm reached towards him, hand grabbing his neck, fingers wrapping around his throat and pulling him close. So close, that your lips only centimeters away, ready to enclose the others with one's own. The damp strands of hair that stuck to his forehead brushed against yours. Both yours and his eyes locked on to each other, looking intently into the depths.

“Baby” you said, caressing your thumb over his jaw in a soothing manner, yet still, Jungkook remained silent. He continued looking into your eyes, his chest moving up and down with heavy breaths; a result of your actions, as they sent an exhilarating rush through his body.

“Baby” you once again called, tilting your head a little, as your eyes made their ways to his lips. “I was just teasing you, I’m always down to have fun with you” saying that you connected your lips with his. However, as he was about to respond back to the kiss, you pulled away.

“Y/n,” there was a warning in his voice, and an intensity in his eyes. You hummed, in a motion to tell him to continue. ”Stop teasing me” he said, momentarily waiting. “Please.”

There was a desperation in his voice, a want, no, more like a need. A need for you, a need to have you, a need to be tangled with you.

You smiled softly at him, before locking your lips with his, in a real kiss this time. He kissed you back as if it was a necessity to him, as if to dispel a long, fervent thirst. It was almost as if he had been a wanderer in a never ending desert, finally having come across the water he so desperately required.

His arm folded around your back, pulling you even closer. His other hand traveled towards his own neck, holding on tightly to your hand that was wrapped around it, all in an effort to keep you from pulling back again.

The kiss was passionate, so intense that it sent a burning sensation through your body. Your tongues danced and tangled together, fighting the other for dominance.

You released the grip on Jungkook's neck, but his hold on your hand tightened. He knew you were going to pull back, and he didn’t want to let you do that.

You pried your hand out of his hold before pushing his shoulder with a light force. This made him finally let go of the kiss.

You moved back, hand over your chest, as you regained a composed breath. Jungkook was staring at you intensely, breathing deeply himself.

“You really love taking my breath away, don’t you?” You questioned. He remained silent, looking at you with the same intensity.

This time it was him, who grabbed onto your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This time it was slow, as jungkook softly sucked on your lips. He pulled back momentarily, meeting your eyes. “I love making you breathless,” he stated. “Do you know how hot you look in this disheveled look? And knowing that I have as much of an effect on you, as you have on me, just makes me want to worship you, to see even more of this beauty of yours.”

He pulled you in for another kiss, this time it was more intense, more fierce, devouring you in that moment. Your hand went to his muscular bicep, holding onto it tightly, as if to prevent you from completely losing control, though it wasn't helping much. Jungkook rubbed small circles on your neck with his thumb, while the other hand, that was encircled around you, massaged the side of your waist. You loved these tiny physical touches that intoxicated you in his love.

Jungkook pulled back, connecting his forehead with yours. “Y/n. Shall we have some fun then?” he questioned. Your eyes were still closed, as you took deep breaths. You opened your eyes, and looked into jungkooks, his eyes were already locked on to you, waiting intently.

“Jungkook,” you said, taking a moment, while caressing his lower lip. “Lets fuck.”

In the next moment, Jungkook was sitting in the passenger seat, with you on top of him, straddling his waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his one arm encircled around your waist, keeping you close, as physically possible. While another hand held your head, pulling you in, locking your lips with his. You could feel how excited he was sitting on his lap.

“Aren’t you horny? Hmm.” You questioned, as Jungkook pulled away to trail kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. “Getting so hard already,” you teased.

Jungkook moved his head to rest his chin on top of your chest, looking up into your eyes. “Ya, and it's all your fault” he stated. “And you like seeing this, don’t you? The effect that you have on me, hmm?'' Jungkook asked, with a little pout on his lips, while his eyes held a teasing glint, earning a chuckle from you.

A little “ow” left your lips, as Jungkook bit your neck, before softly sucking the area where he had left bite marks. “Hey” you exclaimed playfully. “What? I can’t leave you with bite marks, like the ones you leave on me all the time?” Jungkook poked.

Your eyes narrowed, as you glared at him with an angry expression. “No, you can not. It's my thing” you declared. Jungkook lightly laughed at your cuteness, earning an even more intense glare from you. He gave you a sly smile, before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips, while his hands sneakingly moved your shirt up, leaving it to rest above your chest area.

He pulled, looking down towards your chest, the red lace bar that was driving him wild earlier, teasing him gently with the little hints through your shirt, was now fully seen in front of his eyes. He leaned in, licking the slit between your cleavage, trailing kisses to your boob, sucking on the soft area above your bra lining.

His fingers hooked onto the upper lining of the bra, pulling it down and resting it under your boobs, exposing them to the cool air, sending a shiver down your back. His thumbs went to the now hard nipples, rubbing circles on them, hearing a hum of contentment from you.

His soft lips connected with your nipple, sucking on it tenderly, while his one hand continued to play with your other nipple; he would rub it, squeeze it, pull it, and pinch it. As he carried on this show of affection, the soft movements turned more heated, more passionate, and more intense. He sucked harder.

“You like that, baby? Having your tits sucked by me?” he teased. Though he didn’t get a verbal answer from you, but by the sounds of satisfaction that flowed out your lips, he could tell you were finding enjoyment in this, like you always did.

Jungkook leaned back in the seat, taking in your whole appearance; oh, how gorgeous you looked. Your messy damp hair flowed over your shoulders, a few short strands lingering on your forehead, your wettish shirt resting above your chest area, your boobs laying upon your bra. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed you. Now. The way you were looking at him, your eyes carrying a temptatious look, as if commanding him to initiate what he was thinking, told him that you needed him too.

Your hands probed his chest area, before making their way you to the hems of his t-shirt, slightly pulling it up to make you intentions aware. Jungkook understood, and eagerly complied with your command.

Once his t-shirt was discarded, leaving him only in his shorts, Jungkook quickly went to take off all your clothes, throwing them aside to the driver's seat.

His hand reached down, and began rubbing circles with his gentle, yet icy fingers on your now exposed pussy. The touch sent a cold, yet electric sensation through your body, causing you to grab onto his shoulders.

“Someone was calling me horny earlier, but now they’re wet from just getting their nipples played with,” Jungkook remarked. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Nipples are a sensitive part, but you got hard just from looking at me and kissing me” you countered, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“You’re never going to let me win, are you?” Jungkook questioned, with a lazy smile. “Never!” You declared, shaking your head.

A sudden moan left your lips, your hold tightening on his shoulders, as Jungkook sneakingly inserted a finger inside of you. “Even if it means for me to be a loser, I will always make you the winner” he expressed, moving his icy finger in and out, while rubbing his thumb over your clit.

It felt good, really good, the sounds of pleasure leaving your mouth serving as an indication. The attention on your pussy continued, while more digits were added, making you even more wet, leading you closer to a delightful frenzy. However, his movements came to a sudden halt, earning him a groan of disapproval. “Though, I never said that the win will be easy”

A teasing smirk rested on his lips, keenly gazing at your annoyed expression, anticipating your next move. Oh, you were very much annoyed, and you were not going to let him go so easily for edging you like this.

Your hand grabbed onto his neck, as your lips attacked his jaw, trailing down to his neck, leaving kisses along the way, all the while sucking the skin harshly. Your teeth latched onto his shoulder, biting it with a slight intensity, only enough to cause a tiny sting of pain. Low moans left his mouth, not just from the pleasure, but also from the satisfaction from seeing you behave like this. He loved this side of you. And that bite you gave him, only resulted in a wider smile to play on his face.

You continued to leave marks on him, as your hands roamed all over his chest before making their way to the waistband of his shorts. Without wasting any time, you swiftly freed his hard cock from its containment. Your fingers caressed its length, while your thumb rubbed over the tip.

Strings of moans left his mouth, as he was lost in delight. “Look at you, leaking already” you examined, retreating your hand completely, leaving him to groan in response.

You brought your lower body close to his cock, spreading the lips of your pussy, you rubbed your clit against it. It felt good, not just the motion, but also the satisfaction of seeing the desperation appearing on his face.

With half open eyes, he gazed at you, “babbyy,” the whine left his mouth. “Please” he pleaded. “Please ride me”

With a smirk of victory, you picked up his wallet that was placed in the cup holder. Retrieving a condom from it, you placed it on him, rubbing your wetness on it as a lubricant.

You lifted up your hips, spreading your lips down there apart, lining his cock with your entrance, and slowing moving yourself down. All the while making sure his eyes remained on you at constant.

A moan of contentment left his lips, finally being able to feel himself inside of you, sending him into a bliss. You began to move your hips back and forth, a bit slowly for his liking though, you still weren’t done teasing him.

“Happy now, that you get to feel yourself inside me?” You teased, earning a tiny groan from him as he rested his head against the seat, eyes closed, and lost in the feeling.

After a bit longer of teasing him while riding him sensationally, you picked up your movements, now moving up and down his cock. Your breasts followed suit, swaying in a similar motion. Your movement slowly picked up pace, increasing the sounds that left yours and jungkook’s lips, in amount and intensity. His fingers pinched your clit, adding to your pleasure and soon enough you clenched around his cock, releasing over him.

Just as you finished your climax, jungkook’s hands went to your hips, lifting you up slightly, as he began thrusting into you. A sudden ‘ah’ left your lips, followed by a string of moans. Your arms wrapped around his neck, clutching on tightly, as his movement became more vigorous, leading him to a release soon after.

Jungkook slowly moved your hips down to rest on him, as you slumped over him, still hugging him close with your arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around your back, while his face rested in the crook of your neck. He soothingly rubbed your back with his hands, along with placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder, causing a small smile to appear on your lips.

You pulled back to meet his eyes. There was the most loving look in his shining, doe eyes, as he admired his beautiful partner. “So, did you enjoy having fun?” You inquired.

He rested his forehead against yours, his one hand caressing your check gently. “Yes. I always enjoy having fun with you” he stated. “In fact..” he trailed off. “We go for round two?” He asked, with the mischievous look displayed on his face once again.

“Alright. However, I’m a bit tired, so you have to do all the work” you asserted. “Whatever you wish, my princess” he complied, making you roll your eyes playfully at the nickname, before he placed a small peck on your lips, a smile never leaving his own.

And like that, here you were, laying on the back seat of the car, while Jungkook was on top of you, trusting in you once again. “My beautiful y/n,” he admired, his fingers trailing along your face, pushing aside a few strands, before continuing to graze his fingers down your body, from chest to stomach, to finally resting on your thighs that were wrapped around his waist.

Moans of ecstasy left your lips, as he continued pounding you passionately. His hand made its way to your throat, wrapping around it softly, before connecting his lips with yours. “Do you feel good, baby? Are you enjoying me thrusting into you like this?” He questioned playfully, only to get a hum of satisfaction in response.

“Are you going to cum princess?” He teasingly inquired, hearing your moans grow in sound, along with his speed and intensity. “Let it all out, cum for me baby” he assured, and soon enough you did, followed by him moments later.

As you both had regained your composure, Jungkook cleaned you up and himself with the tissues available in the vehicle. He grabbed a blanket, adjusting the position so that his back rested against the seat, and you were laying on top, followed by him bundling up both of you with the blanket.

Taking time to relax, you nestled up in each other’s warmth, comfort, and love, while waiting for the rainstorm to pass by.