#also I was sitting here having a wonderful time knitting and now a guy behind me is scrolling through tiktok without headphones | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 5 months ago

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↳ Index [Chapter 08 - Lake]

Warnings: good days and good feels and people being happy <3, emotional conversations by a bonfire, this is pure comfort, ah yes there is also skinny dipping by the lake, and a cute picnic date <3

Wordcount: 10k

a/n: now this is the end :( thank you so much for coming on this journey with me, i hope that you guys could find comfort and healing in this story and here to so many more stories about this universe 💙

Taehyung startles awake, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. The latter is standing over him, staring at the peculiar scene with scrunched brows.

“Hyung”, Taehyung clears his sleepy throat and sits up, “what are you doing here?”

They are whispering.

“Just checking if any of you are awake. How did you manage to share this small bed?”

Taehyung looks to his side where you and Jungkook are cuddled together. Jungkook has both his arms wrapped around you. You have your chin against his chest which results in your neck to be bent into a weird position and for your mouth to be agape. Jungkook sleeps with his chin almost swallowed in your mouth and his own lips widely agape.

“These two seem completely gone”, Taehyung stifles a laugh.

“Yeah, doesn’t look comfortable at all.”

“Agreed. Come, let us let them sleep”, Taehyung says and rolls out of bed. He makes sure to tug you and Jungkook back in and leaves the room with Yoongi.

“You look better.”

“I do? What do you mean?”

Yoongi points at Taehyung’s ankle.

“You’re not in pain anymore.”

“I am? Oh! I am!” Taehyung widens his eyes in joyful realization, “oh this is remarkable. I can walk again.”

“Mhm good. You guys were reckless yesterday.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, “why can’t you merely be happy for me once? Why must you always turn everything into a lecture?” he is teasing, which makes Yoongi laugh.

“It’s the age, I can’t help it.”

He jogs down the stairs in a light step. Taehyung does the same.

“Good morning”, your grandmother greets them. She is knitting, sitting on the window seat with a mug of tea by her side.

“Good morning, Agatha. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you for asking, Yoongi dear. And you?”

“Like a baby.”

Your grandma scans her eyes over Taehyung’s ankle.

“How are you doing today, Taehyung dear? ___ told me that you and Jungkook had a little accident yesterday. We were worried.”

“We stupidly jumped down the hayloft.”

“You did? Oh my, oh my”, she gasps, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“Indeed. Jungkook jumped first and I followed in blind worry. Truly, you must know that in the real world we could jump down buildings without hurting ourselves.”

“Oh my, oh my. It was instinct then.”

“Indeed it was and we paid the price. Silly us.”

“But you’re okay again?”

“I am. It feels as if nothing ever happened. Yoongi’s spell truly helped. As did whatever was in the porridge yesterday. I thank you for making it. It was truly remarkable.”

Your grandmother smiles mischievously, “that’s good to hear.”

“What did you put in it for it to taste so healing?”

“Magic, my dear. Just a little bit of magic.”

“I see. Well, it was truly wonderful. Thank you. Like this, I can enjoy our last day here.”

“Is it already the last day? Oh my, time flies by too quickly”, she says and looks back at her knitting, “what a shame, I got so used to having you here with us.”

“We will definitely come back many more times”, Taehyung promises.

“Good, oh that is very good to hear”, she snickers mischievously, “I will have to beat you at Schnaps one day.”

Taehyung laughs, “then I must tell you that I will not lose without a fight.”

She laughs, “good. I wouldn’t want an easy fight either way.”

They exchange a mischievous look with each other and then Taehyung turns his attention to Yoongi instead. The latter is busy making coffee and tea.

Taehyung comes up behind him to hug his middle, resting his chin on his shoulder. The melody once leaving Yoongi’s lips, gets stuck in his throat, his body tenses up.

“What are you doing?”

“Friendship hug. I have a lot of catching up to do now that we are friends.”

“Does it have to be hugs? Can’t it be a handshake or a friendly nod?”

“No. No, it has to be hugs”, Taehyung says and gives Yoongi a little squeeze.

“You’re so weird”, Yoongi murmurs, but gives Taehyung’s hand an awkward pet. Just twice then he already pulls back, “okay enough. It’s getting uncomfortable.”

“You held out longer than I imagined”, Taehyung says and steps back, “you are very huggable, hyung.”

“This feels like a curse when you say it”, he jokes and follows it up with a gentle nudge to Taehyung’s chin and a fond, “brat.”

Then he turns his attention back to the coffee. Taehyung smiles, feeling flutters in his chest.

“Have you thought about our plan more?”

“What plan?” Yoongi asks.

“The plan to find your friends.”

“Ah”, Yoongi says and shakes his head, “not yet. I need time.”

“I understand. Well, if you need company on your endeavours, you can always count on me.”

“Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it.”

The eye contact is fleeting because Yoongi is shy. He clears his throat, scratching the side of his neck.

“Uhm”, he begins and clears his throat again, “carry the tea.”

He walks off with two mugs of coffee and Taehyung is left alone with two mugs of tea. He takes them and follows Yoongi upstairs.

“What are we going to do with them?”

“Wake the others. It’s the last day here, they should spend it well, not sleep till noon.”

“Yes. I agree. Oh hyung, I am very excited. We could take a walk in the forest or make music together.”

“Mhm, sounds nice.”

Yoongi uses his elbow to open the bedroom door.

“Wake up you two”, he says as he carries the coffee to the bedside table. He places the mugs on it then gives you and Jungkook a little shake, “wake up.”

Jungkook wakes first, flinching aggressively which in return wakes you. You whine, rolling to your other side so you could bury your face in the pillow. Jungkook grumbles quietly and hides away in the pillow instantly to continue sleeping.

“No snoozing, wake up”, Yoongi tells you in a soft voice and his fingers tracing your hairline. He is smiling fondly, thinking to himself that you look especially beautiful in the morning.

“Go away”, you mumble into the pillow.

He laughs and bends down to kiss your temple, “I’m not leaving.”

“I was dreaming so well, you’re so mean.”

“And you’re missing out on a nice day. Wake up”, he kisses your cheek then straightens up to reach over you to Jungkook. He shakes him gently, cradling his cheek afterwards, “you too, Kookie. Wake up.”

“Five more minutes”, he lulls.

“You two”, Yoongi laughs and steps back, “you’re gonna miss the entire day.”

“Listen to him”, Taehyung says and throws himself over you and Jungkook. He rolls around on top of you, earning himself loud whines, “wake up or I will tickle you.”

“Tae please”, you whine.

“Get off”, Jungkook whines.

“No”, Taehyung says and pinches his side.

Jungkook squeaks and sits up instantly, hitting his hand away.

“It’s not cool, don’t do that”, he whines with a pout.

“But it managed to wake you”, Taehyung says and pinches your side next.

“Tae”, you squeak and writhe away, “don’t do that.”

“Wake up, darling”, Taehyung coos and tickles you again.

“God, you’re so annoying”, you laugh, swiping his hands away as you roll onto your back.

Taehyung laughs and leans down to kiss your cheek. His hands are still on your waist.

“Are you going to fall back to sleep?”

“No god, just don’t tickle me again.”

Taehyung gets off bed, grinning at Yoongi.

“Mission accomplished.”

Yoongi snorts in amusement, “you definitely did. Coffee and tea are on the bedside table. Come down once you’re ready. We’re making breakfast.”

“Oh brekkie”, Jungkook coos with sparkling eyes.

“Mhm, we’re gonna eat it by the lake”, Yoongi says and leaves the room.

“Oh my god, picnic”, you gush, sitting up in excitement.

“Mhm, come on Tae we have lots to do.”

“Do you truly trust me with the kitchen, hyung?” he is teasing, bumping his shoulder with Yoongi as a snicker leaves him.

“No, but I’ll make sure you don’t burn the whole house down”, Yoongi throws back jokingly, making Taehyung laugh and then hug his arm.

The door falls closed behind them. Only you and Jungkook are left. You exchange a look with him. His hair is messy, the pillow is still marked onto his face in red streaks. He meets your eyes and grins sleepily, leaning in to kiss your lips before moving past you to get the coffee.

He sips on it, turning his back to you so he could sit by the window and look outside.

You take the mug of tea, then climb onto his lap. He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Mhm yeah. My neck’s killing me though. What did I do?”

“Don’t know”, Jungkook kisses your neck as he talks, “probably slept weird.”

“Mhm probably”, you say and take a sip of the tea, “mhm Yoongi definitely made this.”

“Yeah, the coffee too. It tastes Yoongi made.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder again, travelling his hand up and down your waist mindlessly.

“Did you sleep well too?” you ask him.

“Mh-hm so well”, he says, “I didn’t even notice that the bed’s so small.”

“Yeah, it’s probably magical because I also had enough space.”

“Magical. Mhm that could be it”, he says and gives you a soft squeeze, “can’t we just stay like this forever? You’re so comfy on my lap.”

You giggle, snuggling closer into him, “I wouldn’t mind. You’re very comfy too.”

“My knees don’t hurt anymore, by the way.”

“They don’t?” you turn in his lap, “Kookie this is amazing. So the magic worked?”

“I think it did. Look”, he lifts you off his lap and hands you his mug so he can lie on his back and kick his feet into the air, “I can do this and it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m so happy. I was so worried.”

“You did really well”, Jungkook sits up and kisses your cheek, “you’re so cool.”

“Yoongi did most of the work.”

“Yeah, well you helped so this makes you just as cool”, he says with a cute smile.

“Thank you, oh god”, you mumble, feeling shy.

He kisses your cheek, then sits back to sip on his coffee, letting his eyes race over your features.

“What?” you ask him shyly.

“I like looking at you”, he smiles softly, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh god”, you instinctively reach up to fix your hair, “I just woke up though.”

“And? I woke up too and do you think I’m ugly?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re not ugly either.”

“Gah Jungkook, stop it”, you gasp and nudge his chest, having to giggle, “you’re so sweet.”

“Heh, you too”, he says and kisses your cheek.

You wash your face and brush your teeth while Jungkook showers. Once he is done, you are already finished, having left the bathroom to get dressed and leave for downstairs.

Yoongi and Taehyung are in the kitchen. They have the radio running. Taehyung sits by the dining table, slicing fruits while Yoongi is in the midst of filling up containers with breakfast.

“This already smells amazing.”

They turn their heads in synch, looking at you.

“My darling, you are finally here.”

“I am”, you greet him with a kiss, “how is your ankle?”

“It is as good as new. Look, I can move it without pain.”

“That’s so good to hear. Gosh darling you, I was worried yesterday”, you say, ruffling his hair.

Taehyung grins and looks back at the fruits.

“And you”, you walk to Yoongi, hugging him from the back, “how are you doing, my love?”

“Good. I made breakfast and your grandmother made bread which we can take.”

“Gosh, I’m so happy. Where are they anyways?”

“In town again. Deborah needed that favour today.”

Deborah was one of your grandmother’s friends. Last night, your grandmother told you that she met her friend in town and that she needed help with fixing the lightning and that it could happen that they needed to leave for town today.

“I see. Gosh, now I’m sad. It’s our last day here and we can’t see them.”

“They promised to be back before dinner.”

“Good. Yeah. I think I would have cried if we had to leave before saying goodbye to them”, you say and look around the counter, “can I help you with something?”

“No, I’m almost done.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can manage”, Yoongi assures you and leaves the hug so he can store the finished breakfast in baskets.

Now without a task and with Yoongi very obviously busy, you sit down next to Taehyung.

“Can I at least help you with something?”

“No, thank you. I am almost finished.”

“It seems that I’m really useless here”, you joke.

“Not useless. We simply enjoy spoiling you”, Taehyung says with a kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, you guys are all so sweet.”

“Mhm this already smells amazing”, Jungkook comes downstairs, dressed in a modern hanbok and with his long hair in a ponytail.

“You look very handsome”, Taehyung says, gazing at him.

“Thank you. It’s a modern hanbok, I thought I’d save it up for the last day”, Jungkook says, posing for all of you.

“It’s very pretty”, you say.

“It fits you”, Yoongi says.

“You are so handsome, truly”, Taehyung says.

Jungkook smiles, then looks around the cottage.

“Are your grandparents outside?”

“No, they’re in town again.”

“Ah. Sad, I would have loved to see them again before we leave.”

“They’ll be back by dinner”, Yoongi assures him and shoulders one of the baskets, “take the second basket, we’re leaving.”

“Okay, hyungie.”

Taehyung takes the third basket and you are tasked with carrying the fabrics bag. Like this and with good mood all around you, you make your way to the lake. The song of birds and the buzzing of insects accompanies you just like every day and the scent of the forest is especially nice today.

The spot, where you and Yoongi had the picnic last time, is already under the shade of the tree. You like that it is because the sun is very hot today. You and Taehyung lay out the blanket and pillows, while Jungkook and Yoongi lay out the food afterwards. It is also important to mention that Taehyung excused himself for a moment and disappeared into the forest. None of you knew what he was planning to do, but you suggested that perhaps he just needed to relieve himself.

You sit down in a circle, leaving a space for Taehyung between you and Jungkook. Yoongi sits opposite of the empty space, pouring lemonade into four cups.

“You can already start”, he tells you, not looking up.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Tae to come back?”

“We should. Where is he anyways? It’s been ten minutes.”

“Maybe he went back to the house because he needed to poop.”

“That could be it, yeah.”

“When I first met you and you ran away from me, I thought that maybe you really needed to poop.”

Jungkook laughs, while Yoongi glances at you awkwardly.

“You did?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Oh god, this is bad. Now I’m embarrassed”, Jungkook snickers.

“I know better these days”, you joke.

“You guys are weird”, Yoongi murmurs, handing out the cups.

“Hey, I didn’t know that you guys don’t have these urges back then”, you defend yourself, making Jungkook chuckle and Yoongi glance at you.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says dryly and looks up, “where were you?”

You and Jungkook look at the path. Taehyung is walking back to you with his hands behind his back.

“I got something for the picnic”, he says and sits down on the empty space. He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a bouquet of forest flowers.

“Tada!”

“Wow Tae, this is so pretty”, you gasp.

“I plucked them myself. We passed a very big field of flowers when we walked here, so I went back to get some. Do you like them? I thought that perhaps they could add beauty to the picnic.”

“We love them. They’re so pretty. Thank you for plucking them”, you say, pecking his cheek.

“They’re really pretty. Wow, you must have worked so hard”, Jungkook praises him.

“Thanks Tae, you can put them in here”, Yoongi says and fills a fifth cup with water.

Taehyung smiles at all of you with flushed cheeks. You each compliment the flowers one more time and then finally begin with the breakfast. It is useless to say that the breakfast is the best breakfast you have ever tasted. Yoongi’s food has this effect. It is prepared well and it is prepared with love – not only for the food itself but also for the people he makes it for – and one can truly taste it in every bite.

Some time passes where nothing truly significant happens, except that the food gets less and less and your tummies get fuller and fuller. You talk about things just as insignificant and it was so perfectly good this way.

You have reached the sweet part of the breakfast, snacking on the fruits Taehyung sliced when Jungkook lets his eyes run over the wood cutting spot.

“Is this were you cut wood last time, hyungie?”

Yoongi glances at it for a moment, then nods his head.

“Yeah.”

“Nice, that’s cool”, he looks at the lake, “does anyone wanna take a swim later?”

“Definitely”, you say.

“Me too”, Taehyung agrees, “would it bother you if I painted for a while however? The sunlight looks so beautiful right now.”

“Of course not. I could paint something as well”, Jungkook agrees.

And so it happens that the day of insignificant happenings continues after breakfast. Taehyung and Jungkook paint, while you and Yoongi loose yourselves in books. You read and he writes. Truly there is no day more insignificant than this day and that is exactly what makes it so perfect to all of you. It is peaceful, sunny and nice. God knows, you haven’t had such days in a very long time. Knowing that nothing will happen may seem boring to others, but not to your family. Because as long as the most exciting thing of your day is painting and books, it means that the world is at peace and your family is safe.

Jungkook places his pen aside when his drawing is halfway done. He rolls his neck and shoulders, letting out the kind of sound a person makes when they stretch their rusty bodies. Taehyung looks up from the painting.

“Do you want to swim?” he asks him.

“Just taking a short break. I sat in the same position for too long”, he stretches his arms high above his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he groans, “how do humans do that? Aren’t you in constant pain?”

“Are you okay?” you ask him in a chuckle. You are resting with your head on Yoongi’s tummy while the latter uses the basket as a back rest.

“Yeah, just really stiff”, he says mid-stretch. Then he drops his arms again, smacking his lips, “ah, that was nice. What are you painting?” he asks, getting on all fours so he could glance at Taehyung’s painting, “damn, the detail.”

“Do you like it? I find these flowers so beautiful that I needed to paint them.”

“It’s really pretty. Do you wanna see what I drew?”

“I do.”

Jungkook flips his sketchbook. He captured the current moment in black ink. Taehyung with a concentrated pout painting the flowers, Yoongi with the pen between his lips as he thinks of poetry and you with your widened eyes glued to the words in the book. The details aren’t perfect yet, but it is clear which silhouette is supposed to be who.

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Do you guys wanna see too?”

“Of course, show us.”

Jungkook flips the book.

“Kookie, wow”, you sit up, “this is so beautiful.”

Yoongi gawks with parted lips, which means that he is totally enchanted by the drawing.

“Thanks yeah. I still need to draw the details, but my eyes are tired. I need a break”, Jungkook says.

“It’s so pretty, I love it so much. Can I see what you painted too?”

“Of course.”

You crawl over the blanket to look at Taehyung’s canvas. The latter, drapes his arm around your waist and kisses your shoulder.

“Gosh, this is so pretty too. The colours are so nice.”

“Thank you. Do you like the book you are reading?”

“I do. It’s really captivating.”

“I am glad that you do.”

You and he exchange a soft kiss, then you sit back down again, preparing a new cup of lemonade because you feel thirsty.

“Tae, do you wanna take the swim now?” Jungkook asks.

“I do”, Taehyung says and begins undressing himself. Jungkook stands up as well, following his example.

Yoongi glances at them, while you run your eyes over them nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi gasps, ogling their briefs. He regrets it when seconds later, Taehyung pulls it down and exposes everything. Yoongi holds his breath in shock, gawking into his notebook with big eyes.

“Going for a swim”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand, “the last one in the water is a stinky loser.”

“Tae wait, I wasn’t ready”, Jungkook follows him with laughter.

The two men play fight for a little, pushing and pulling each other to stop the other from getting into the water first. Jungkook ends the fight by suddenly wrapping his arm around Taehyung’s thighs and throwing him over his shoulder this way.

Taehyung squeaks, trying to fight his grip, but he can’t. Jungkook walks into the water with him, only letting him down once his head would be under water.

“Now there’s no winner”, Jungkook says.

“You are awful”, Taehyung whines, splashing his face with water.

Jungkook chuckles and drags Taehyung further out the lake with his arm around his waist.

You avert your eyes from them, studying Yoongi. His face is red.

“I didn’t expect them to strip.”

“Me neither”, he says, lowering his book so he could look at you, “I saw Tae’s dick. I didn’t wanna know how he looks.”

“I mean, it’s a good view.”

“You’re not funny.”

You chuckle, “sorry.”

“Brat”, Yoongi says, running his eyes over your hand, “what’s wrong, love?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep touching your neck.”

“Ah that. I think I slept weird. It hurts, it’s giving me a headache.”

Yoongi sits up and places his hands on your shoulders.

“Lie down, I’ll make it better.”

“Really? Oh my god, I love massages”, you say and lie down so your head was resting in the crook of his crossed legs.

Yoongi fixes your hair for you so it wasn’t tugging and pulling, then runs his palms along your forehead and scalp. You grin, closing your eyes.

“This is already amazing.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums and begins his massage. He pays special attention to every inch of your tense neck, traces your features and massages your scalp and shoulders. He even dances his hands up and down your arms. All while the background is filled with Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s inaudible chatter and the song of birds. A slow wind has picked up which makes the leaves dance and babble as well. The sunlight breaks through the canopies, dancing behind your closed eyelids in shades of red and black.

“I can’t believe that today’s the last day. I want this to last forever”, you say after so many moments of nice silence.

“I know. We had a good time here. Although I’m a little sad you didn’t spend the night with me.”

You look up at him.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I looked for you when I didn’t see you in bed, but you were already sleeping when I found you.”

“Gosh no, I’m sorry. The porridge knocked me right out.”

“It’s okay, I figured.”

“The next time we visit, I will make it up to you. I promise.”

“Mhm”, he traces your brows, “I don’t doubt it.”

“Kiss?”

He leans down and kisses your lips, smiling fondly when you caress his cheeks.

“I hope you’re not too sad or angry.”

“No. I just wanted to tell you that you owe me cuddles now”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Min Yoongi, are you actually talking cute right now?”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you fondly.

“Maybe. Don’t tell anyone.”

You roll to your tummy and sit up, resting your weight on your hands so you could kiss his lips. He cradles your cheeks for it, letting you show him the rhythm with a fluttering heart.

You break the kiss with a gentle bite to his lower lip, eliciting a sigh from him.

“My lips are sealed, lover boy”, you whisper, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“That’s a dumb nickname.”

“Yeah? Just like Boongie was?”

“No”, he chuckles, “Boongie was never bad.”

“I see”, you say, closing your eyes when he pulls you into a kiss. He shows you the rhythm this time around, sending flutters through your chest. His kiss tastes so goddamn good. He breaks it with a stub of his nose, sliding his big, tender hands to your neck.

“How’s the headache?” he asks you, rubbing circles on your skin.

“I can’t feel it anymore. You really helped.”

“That’s good”, his eyes soften, he caresses your chin, “princess.”

You lean into his touch, feeling so incredibly giddy.

“Boongie, can you watch me?”

“Sure?”

You sit back and lift your hand, closing your eyes to focus on the energies around you. The trees, the water and sun, the flowers. You focus on the sweet scent and dancing colours, using their good energies to create a flower. You open your eyes, presenting the flower to Yoongi with a blinding smile.

“Tada.”

“You’re such a good girl, princess. Look at you making flowers all on your own”, he praises, making you giggle and do a little happy dance.

“It’s for you”, you say, “can I put it in your hair?”

He tilts his head to you, closing his eyes as you put the blue flower into his hair. You give his ear a little rub before you pull back, gazing at him.

He leans in to kiss you, kissing you on the cheek afterwards.

“My little witch”, he whispers.

“Yoongi, stop”, you gasp, feeling your heart skip a beat or two.

He smiles lazily, tracing your lips before he pokes your nose.

“Boop.”

“Yoongi, oh my god”, you squeak, falling around his neck to cackle into the crook of his neck.

He laughs, hugging you in order not to fall on his back from the intensity of your love attack.

“What’s wrong? I didn’t even do anything”, he says calmly, even if his racing heart gives him away.

“Oh stop it you, you know exactly what you did. You did the boop”, you say, sitting back to poke his nose, “the boop.”

He ogles your finger, swiping it away gently to hold it instead.

“You’re cute.”

“___!”

You and Yoongi turn your heads upon hearing your name being called. Jungkook is coming out of the water with his eyes glued to you, seeming very determined. He is trying very hard to look cool and mysterious, but the slippery stones and pokey roots make it very hard not to wobble. He is definitely cute.

“Already cold?” you ask him.

“You”, he points at you with furrowed brows.

You point at yourself, “me?”

“You’re coming with me.”

You glance at Taehyung in the background, who obviously waits for Jungkook with a mischievous grin. Almost as if these two made up a plan. A plan to get you.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Jungkook reaches your side. He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, giving your butt a playful spank. He flicks water into Yoongi’s face, calling it a “distraction tactic” when the older man complains in a whine.

“Now you’re mine”, he says, walking back down to the lake.

You finally understand. He is going to carry you into the water.

“Wait Kook wait”, you squeak, wiggling in his hold, “let me at least take off my dress.”

The water is coming closer and closer.

“Kookie please”, you laugh.

Jungkook changes his grip on you so you are in his arms bridal style. He steps into the water and squats down slowly.

“Kook, wait my clothes please”, you beg and wiggle in his arms with lines of laughter on your face.

Jungkook snickers and turns to place you on dry land.

“You are lucky that your begs are my weakness”, he jokes.

You slap his chest gently, “you meanie, you”, you snicker and hurry to get undressed.

You drop your stuff on the ground, squeaking loudly when Jungkook sweeps you off your feet again the second you are naked. Now there is no stopping him. He is walking into the water with you in his arms, smiling oh so brightly at the happy squeaks and squeals you let out.

“Oh it’s so cold! I’m gonna pay you back so bad!” you complain and then you are already submerged completely.

“It’s not even that bad”, Jungkook laughs, carrying you further out onto the lake.

“Yes it is. I was forced to my luck, you meanie you.”

Jungkook giggles when you bite his neck gently, feeling his heart skip a beat.

Taehyung takes over for Jungkook, carrying you in his arms and with his lips nibbling on your jawline.

“Hello there, my beautiful. It seems that our plan to kidnap you was successful”, he coos.

“God you two are awful. Brr it’s so chilly”, you laugh, snuggling yourself closer to Taehyung.

“We’ll warm you”, he purrs, snuggling you back.

Jungkook presses himself close to you on your other side so you are cocooned between them. You must admit, their technique helps splendidly. You are so warm and cozy between their heated bodies despite the cold water. The three of you snicker and laugh, exchanging little kisses as you enjoy the carefree moment.

Soon Taehyung lets go of you, giving you the freedom to swim on your own.

“We were thinking of swimming to the middle of the lake”, Taehyung says, “are you with us?”

“Of course I am”, you say and look at Yoongi, “my love, we’re swimming to the middle. Okay?”

He gives you a thumbs-up and lies down, covering his face with the edge of the blanket.

“He seems happy”, you say and look at your two boys, “loser gets his butt spanked. Go!”

You swim off quickly, cackling mischievously when your two boys whine in complaint.

“Spanks weren’t part of the deal”, Taehyung laughs.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready”, Jungkook whines.

They catch up with you soon. Taehyung pulls you back gently by your ankle.

“Come back you”, he warns with fondness in his eyes.

“I was only kidding”, you laugh and slow down so you were swimming between them, “let’s not race.”

“You are just scared that we would have beat you”, Jungkook says.

“Excuse me, mister? I am a better swimmer than you.”

“Mhm sure you are.”

You flick water at his face, earning yourself a flick of water back.

“Okay, okay truce. Truce”, you cackle.

“Fine, truce”, Jungkook agrees and looks around at the scenery, “it’s so nice here.”

“It truly is”, Taehyung agrees, “and it is the perfect weather for swimming. We must arrange more swimming days at the lake once we are home again.”

“I’d be down for that. It’s gonna be hot in the next few weeks, so it’s perfect.”

“I heard that too. I bet the lake’s gonna be really nice”, Jungkook says.

“We must take Jimin with us as well. He loves to swim in the lake”, Taehyung says, feeling nervous for a while because of past distaste between his best friend and the others.

“Sure, the more the merrier”, you agree.

“I won’t go easy on him by the way, so warn him”, Jungkook jokes, “I will beat him in swimming.”

Taehyung relaxes in relief, “he hates an easy win, so this is perfect.”

You stay by the lake until the sun begins its slow decent. You went for two more swims, taking Jungkook and Taehyung with you each time. Yoongi never went into the water and you didn’t pressure him. He seemed very content in lying under the tree and enjoying the silence.

Your grandparents have already cooked dinner when you arrive back home, welcoming you with smiles and amazing food. You talk a lot during dinner, taking more time than usual because nobody really wanted this last dinner together to end. In fact, you take so much time that your grandparents excuse themselves straight to bed after dinner, telling you a good night. You decided to stay one more night and leave by the morning, which is why you were only a little bit sad when you watched them leave.

It is Taehyung, who suggests keeping the night going by having a bonfire outside. You and Jungkook agreed instantly and Yoongi did too after he saw how happy you seemed about the idea.

So now bundled up in warmer clothes, you are outside, preparing the fire.

Taehyung hurries to the pile of wood, picking up as many as his arms can carry. Like this, he waddles to the fire pit, peeking over the pieces of wood.

“Help me. I cannot carry all of it alone”, he says.

“Do you even know how to make a fire?” Yoongi teases, walking to the wood pile as well.

“Of course I do. I was born in a time where the only sources of heat were fires”, Taehyung explains, hurrying back to the pile after dropping the logs next to the stone circle.

“It doesn’t mean that you spoiled brat didn’t unlearn it again”, Yoongi says.

Taehyung sends him a look.

“I shall poke you with a stick soon, hyung” he warns, making Yoongi chuckle.

He squats down next to Taehyung and picks up firewood.

“The question is if you still know how to start a fire”, Taehyung says as he nudges him with his shoulder.

“Why?” there is amusement in Yoongi’s eyes as he meets Taehyung’s gaze.

“Because you locked yourself up for most of your life like a little baby.”

Yoongi laughs and slaps his arm gently, “I think we’re equal now.”

Taehyung laughs and nudges Yoongi’s arm. They did enough teasing for now. They both stand up with firewood in their hands and waddle to the fireplace. Taehyung places his stacks down first, sorting them into a pile. Yoongi goes next, letting Taehyung do the sorting because he seems to have his own technique behind it.

“Where should we put it?” you ask with a pile of firewood in your arms.

Jungkook is beside you, carrying even more.

“Put it aside for now. We’ll use it once the fire’s shrinking.”

“Okie dokie”, Jungkook says and helps you set down the wood. He claps into his hands afterwards, resting his hands on his hips, “what now? How are we gonna start the fire?”

“___ is gonna start it.”

“Me? But I have no idea how to.”

“Yeah, you do”, Yoongi says and snaps his fingers to let a small flame appear.

“Wooah”, you and Jungkook gasp, while Taehyung seems as if he already knew the trick.

Yoongi closes his hand. The flame disappears.

“The important thing about fire magic is to remember that fire will always be stronger than you. There is nothing about fire which doesn’t want to consume you if you let it get out of control.”

“And you want me to do what you just did? What if I lose control?”

“You won’t. It’s fairly easy to create a flame and to keep it small”, Yoongi says and starts a flame again, “it’s also important to remember that for as long as the fire you create is still connected with you, it can’t hurt you”, he explains as he allows the flame to consume his entire hand.

“Yoongi, stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself”, you gasp and try to reach for him.

“I don’t feel it at all. The danger is in setting it free. Once the fire leaves your hand, it will do what fire does best. Consume. That is when you can get burned, so never set it free unless you need to.”

“I don’t know if I can do this. I’m scared.”

Yoongi stops the fire in his hand and brushes your cheek gently. His hand feels warm, but not hot. So it truly isn’t dangerous for the person creating it.

“You don’t feel ready?”

You shake your head, “I, I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

“Okay, then I’ll do it. Yes?”

You nod your head, “yes, please.”

“Good job, princess. A good witch knows when a spell is too difficult for them. You’ve done very well in knowing your own limits”, he praises, sending flutters through your tummy.

“Thanks”, you mumble with heated cheeks.

“So how are you going to light the fire now?” Jungkook asks.

“Easy”, Yoongi says and squats down in front of the wood pile. He lights his hand on fire and grabs one of the wooden logs. He grasps it tightly, infecting it with the hot flames until it glows all on its own. He places the log under the other pieces and grabs another one to light it as well. He extinguishes his hand and stands up. His eyes flash orange for a second as he forces the fire to grow. It pulsates rhythmically like a heartbeat and within seconds, the entire pile is aflame in bright, hot fire.

“And you thought that I could do that? This was seriously so impressive.”

“Seriously, hyung. You’re so cool.”

You and Jungkook gush, making Yoongi’s cheeks flush rosy.

“It’s not even that difficult. Fire magic is actually very easy to learn because fire is such a powerful source. It’s dangerous, but easy, which honestly makes it as dangerous as it is.”

“Because every idiot can learn it, right?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi nods his head, “exactly. Every idiot can learn it and many pay the price because of it.”

“I can imagine. Fire has always been scary to me. I really respect it.”

“And you should. Fire isn’t something to play with.”

Taehyung chuckles, making the rest of you look at him.

“Why are you laughing?” Jungkook asks.

“Just because our dear Yoongi can never stop preaching.”

“Yah, I’m just saying”, Yoongi complains, but relaxes when he hears you and Jungkook snicker. He scoffs, softening his features, “I guess I really can’t stop preaching.”

“You’re like a dad”, Jungkook teases.

“I literally said on Tuesday that he’d be the type of dad who would be overly worried at all times and who’d always tell the kids to be careful.”

“Yes, this would be so him”, Jungkook laughs, caressing Yoongi’s back fondly.

“You guys are brats”, Yoongi mumbles and escapes his giddy feelings by sitting down on the ground.

“Wait, hyung I’ll get some blankets and pillows”, Taehyung says and disappears to run to the house.

“Why’s he running? Dirt never hurt anyone before.”

“You’ll complain about it later”, you say. You stand right behind Yoongi, running your fingers over his scalp in a tingly massage.

Yoongi tilts his head back, resting it against your legs.

“Whatever, brat”, he mumbles and closes his eyes, “that feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re so cool, my love.”

Yoongi hums, but his face stays stoic otherwise. You know him well enough by now, that you are aware that this is his way of showing gratitude for a compliment.

Taehyung soon returns with the pillows and blanket you used for the picnic. You help him set it up, using the tree trunks, your grandfather laid around the fire pit to sit on, as your backrests.

You sit between Yoongi and Taehyung, while Jungkook sits on the other side of Yoongi. You are bundled up like this, sharing both the warmth of the fire and that of your bodies.

“So what are we gonna do now?” you ask into the silence.

“I don’t know”, Jungkook answers you.

“We could roast a few marshmallows”, Taehyung suggests.

“I’m not really hungry though.”

“I must admit, me neither”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath, releasing it with a slight pout.

“What if we read something?” Jungkook suggests.

“But I don’t really want to.”

“Yeah, me neither actually”, Jungkook gives up with a pout.

“What if we play UNO?”

“No, this game is awful”, Taehyung instantly says.

“It’s only awful because you always lose”, you laugh.

“And must there be another reason for it to be awful? It is impossible to win.”

“No, it’s not. You’re just bad at it”, Jungkook teases.

“How dare you”, Taehyung gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls and making you and Jungkook laugh with it.

“Ah, you’re so funny”, you say and sigh contently, letting your eyes run over the endless flames. Their dance is almost hypnotising. Never ending and rhythmic, “have we reached a point in our day where we’re bored?” you ask, eyes still glued to the flame as if you were zoning out. It is so relaxing to watch the fire.

“Maybe.”

“Perhaps, we have.”

“Wow, that’s something new. I genuinely can’t remember a day where we were genuinely bored. Either one of us had to be somewhere or we were fighting some evil or we were too busy hunting shadows or being mad at each other. I don’t think that we had a day where we were all bored together.”

“True, yeah.”

“I must admit that I prefer the boredom.”

“Yeah”, you snuggle into Taehyung, “yeah I kinda do too.”

Jungkook rubs Yoongi’s upper back.

“Do you like it too, hyungie?”

“Yeah, I guess”, he says, touching his own ear nervously.

“You don’t seem like it.”

“N-no I do. It just…makes me nervous.”

“The boredom?”

“The peace said boredom means.”

Jungkook kisses his cheek even if that flusters Yoongi immensely.

“Do you wanna talk about it? We’re here for you if you do.”

Yoongi shakes his head, “I guess I’m just paranoid.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, my love”, you say, caressing his thigh.

Yoongi gives you a shy smile, “it’s okay. Thanks”, he takes a deep breath. The darker aura still surrounds him however. You exchange a worried look with Jungkook.

“I have an idea”, Jungkook says.

“Tell us.”

“How about we each write down something we want to get rid off and then we throw it into the flames?”

“Like a cleansing ritual?”

“Yeah. I think we could all use that. We’ve been through a lot lately and I think we have a few bad things weighing us down. Maybe we could use the last night here to leave the bad things behind.”

“And come back from this journey as people further up their paths of healing”, Taehyung says.

“Exactly.”

“I love this idea very much. I know that I have quite a few things weighing me down.”

“I can think of a few things as well”, you say.

“Me too”, Jungkook agrees, “and you? Do you wanna join, hyungie?”

Yoongi falters for a moment, picking at his own skin.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I”, he says, rubbing his neck shyly, “I want to.”

“Awesome, then we’ll do that. I’ll get the paper”, Jungkook says, leaving the fire.

“Don’t forget the pencils!” Taehyung calls after him.

Jungkook returns very soon, handing out papers and pens. He sits down cross legged, keeping a little distance to all of you so nobody could peek. Soon silence surrounds you where each of you writes down something you want to leave behind. Writing it down already feels healing. It comes easy to Taehyung and Jungkook and feels freeing to you. Yoongi looks around for the first few moments, refusing to write down what burdens him even if he knows every fucking word of it. He repeated it in his head over and over again to the point where he has created its own burdening poet about it. He knows what weighs him down, but is scared to put it on paper. Because writing it down finally makes it real and he doesn’t know if he is ready for that. And so it happens that each of you have finished your papers while Yoongi’s is still empty. You each return to the fire, sitting around it.

“Did everybody write something down?” Jungkook asks.

“I did.”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah”, Yoongi lies, glancing at his empty paper.

“Nice, then let’s gather by the fire”, Jungkook says and stands up to walk to the fire. You follow his lead.

“Can I start?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He lifts his hand over the flames, looking at the dancing fire, “I want to keep the uncontrollable hunger here. I know I’m not at the end of my journey to control and that I still have lots to learn, but I want to leave the uncontrollable hunger here. I want to return as a Ripper, who can kiss his lovers the way he was able to kiss them here. I want to return as a Ripper, who might not be able to drink human blood yet but who doesn’t go crazy at the mere sight of it. That’s what I want to leave here, those uncontrollable surges of hunger and violence”, he looks at you and the others, giving you a smile.

You and Taehyung return it, while Yoongi is too shy to do so. Jungkook looks back at the fire and opens his hand. The paper dances down and down until the flames finally swallow it. Jungkook takes a deep breath, folding his hands in front of his chest and closing his eyes as if he was praying.

You and the others do the same because it seemed important to Jungkook. You only open your eyes once you hear Jungkook sigh in relief. He smiles at all of you.

“That felt good. Who wants to go next?”

“May I?”

“Of course, Tae.”

Taehyung lifts his hand, looking into the fire.

“I want to rid myself of the traumatic memories haunting me. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, I am aware of them, so I want to leave this side of me here as well. I want to return as someone who uses his immortality to do good, to create art and make people happy. I want to be someone who stops doubting his place in this family because I finally became someone whose deeds are worthy of it. I want to return as someone who can heal from what was done to him so that one day I will be happy again. And, I know this isn’t something I want to rid myself of but a goal of myself, I want to help Jimin heal as well. He is my best friend and my true mate and one day, I want to see his smile reach his eyes again.”

Taehyung opens his hand, letting the paper sink into the flames. He folds his hands and closes his eyes, you all follow his lead, keeping them closed until he sighs in relief.

He wipes at his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am more than fine”, he assures you, smiling honestly, “my heart feels lighter again. Thank you, Jungkook. This ritual was immensely healing.”

“I’m glad that it could help you. I like what you said”, Jungkook says, intertwining his fingers with Taehyung.

“My turn next”, you say.

“Go ahead.”

You lift your hand, looking into the flames.

“I was raised thinking that I’m unworthy of love, that I’m a burden and that for as long as I’m useful and make no mistakes, I’m wanted. I want to rid myself of this. Being here with you guys and spending time with my grandparents again made me realise that I am very easy to love unconditionally. I know that I’m far from perfect and that I make mistake or do stupid shit sometimes, but you guys and my grandparents never make me feel as if I’m loved less because of it. So I want to come back as someone who loves herself and who doesn’t beat herself up because of small mistakes. I’m human and humans aren’t perfect, but that doesn’t make them less worthy of love.”

You open your hand and let the paper fall into the flames. Just like Taehyung and Jungkook, you fold your hands and close your eyes, thinking your wishes far, far into the endlessness of the universe. Your boys only open their eyes once you sigh in relief.

You smile at them, “I feel so light all of a sudden. This really made me happy.”

“I’m glad it did. You also said really nice things”, Jungkook says, holding your hand as well.

When Yoongi doesn’t immediately start, you all look at him.

“It’s your turn, my love.”

“I know”, he whispers.

“We’re ready whenever you’re ready.”

“I know.”

He lifts his hand. He hesitates. He lowers it again.

“I lied. I didn’t write anything down”, he confesses, showing you the empty paper.

“Why not? Did you not think of anything?”

“I did, but…”

“But what?”

“If I write it down it becomes real.”

“Exactly and then you can throw it into the flames and watch it burn. You could try, maybe it will help.”

“I don’t know”, he looks into the fire with furrowed brows.

“You can also just tell us and throw away the paper as a symbol”, Jungkook suggests.

“I guess I could do that, yeah”, Yoongi whispers.

He needs a few moments to gain courage and when he finally does, he has crumbled the paper in his damp hand.

“I’m scared. I’m not nervous, I’m scared.”

Yoongi’s confession hangs heavy in the air. You are all looking at him. Yoongi doesn’t often confess that he is scared.

“Why are you scared, my love?” you ask him, holding his hand.

“Because one day you’ll have learned control and then we can create the cure.”

Taehyung and Jungkook exchange a look.

“And that means we have to see Namjoon again”, you say.

“Yeah”, Yoongi whispers, nodding his head and squeezing your hand, “I’m scared of that.”

“Because he’ll be mean to you?” Jungkook asks.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Are you scared that he might break free and use it on you?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi shakes his head again.

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to do it and I guess…I guess I’m also scared that it might kill him.”

“Why are you scared of that? He deserves it”, Taehyung says snappishly, but flushes in embarrassment when you nudge him in warning.

“It’s because he was his best friend once. Let’s try to see his side as well”, you say.

“Is that so?” Taehyung asks, glancing at Yoongi.

Yoongi nods his head, staring into the flames.

“What if it kills him? Then I’m so alone.”

“No, you’re not. You will always have us”, Jungkook says.

“I know, but nobody who gets how it is to be a Creator. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Oh, my love”, you get out, hugging him from the side.

“I’m so angry at myself. I know that he is a monster and that he is everything which makes vampires wrong. I know that he tortured too many people and killed far too many and yet I still don’t want him to die. I’m so angry at myself for feeling this way, for being so scared and, and being a, a fucking hopeful coward. I keep wishing that the cure will bring him back, that he will become the gentle, kind man he was in the past and I know that this is wrong of me to wish. He became a monster, he hurt people I should wish him dead, but I can’t. Why can’t I fucking want him dead?”

“My love, stop that. You’re being really mean to yourself right now.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m the worst.”

“No, you’re not”, you gasp.

“Yes, I am. I’m the reason why so many people burned in the Eternal Scorch, why we were cursed, why vampires exist. I’m even the reason why we are hated. Because I lost control we became hunted, my friends died and Namjoon was shot in the head. He became a monster because of me. I’m the fucking worst.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook exclaims in shock.

“Yoongi, please don’t say that”, you exclaim, “your past mistakes don’t define you anymore. Yeah, you did a lot of shit, but you learned from it and not everything bad which happened was your fault.”

“I can’t feel this way.”

“Do not speak like that”, Taehyung gasps, “you are so very far from being the worst”, he says, hurrying to Yoongi’s side so he could take his hand. Like this, they are clutching Yoongi’s crumbled paper together.

Yoongi glances at him shyly.

“I have learned a great deal about you during this holiday. You are so very far from being the worst. You love people and you show it through a multitude of ways. Eventhough you always say that you seem cold and rude, you aren’t. You love to cook because it means that your family is fed well, you love to help because you cannot stand to know that people struggle alone, you always carry a fond word on your tongue because you want the people around you to feel good about themselves. You are filled with so much love, hyung, with so much love that you cannot shake the love you once felt for Namjoon.”

Yoongi tightens his jaw, trying so hard to keep the burning in his eyes from producing tears.

“___ always says that I’m full of love”, he whispers.

“Because she speaks the truth. You are. You are full of it and you will never be alone. I understand your hesitation and your fears, so do not struggle alone for you have people by your side who are willing to help you as well.”

Yoongi smiles, “thank you, kiddo”, he whispers and slides his hand out of Taehyung’s gentle hold. He lifts it over the flames.

“I’m scared, but I’m not alone. I guess, what I want to burn is my self-loathing. I get so angry at myself whenever I feel something unpleasant and instead of looking for help, I blame myself for my emotions to the point where I start hating myself. I guess, I don’t wanna hate myself anymore. I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.”

“Trying already means that you are beginning to love yourself. If you still hated yourself, you wouldn’t want to try”, Jungkook says.

“Yeah, yeah I guess it does. Fuck, you guys, stop making me fucking emotional.”

You all laugh fondly, cuddling closer to Yoongi.

“Fuck, this is so stupid”, he says, but continues, “I want to burn my self-loathing and the fear of stuff I can’t control. As much as I try to control the outcome, some things are out of my control. Maybe Namjoon will die, but I can’t control this outcome so instead of being scared of it, I have to learn to live with it.”

He hesitates with opening his hand.

“Can I still wish that he doesn’t die?”

“Of course you can.”

“Then I wanna wish that he doesn’t die and that he becomes the gentle, kind man of the past again”, Yoongi says and opens his hand.

The fire swallows his paper, Yoongi squeezes your hand and Taehyung’s, staring into the flames until the paper is truly gone. He takes a deep breath, releasing it through his mouth.

“How do you feel?”

“Light.”

“I liked what you said, hyungie.”

Yoongi smiles at Jungkook.

“Thank you, kiddo. You had a good idea.”

“I’m grateful that you guys did it with me. Hoseok and Seokjin always do it with me whenever summer ends, so this tradition means a lot to me.”

“Maybe we can do it with them this year. We’ll include Jimin and Emma as well and have a barbeque in the garden”, you suggest.

“I love this idea so much, wow baby”, Jungkook gushes with sparkly eyes.

“I like it too. I wanna make the food”, Yoongi says.

“I bet it’s gonna be so delicious, my love.”

“And we shall each bring our instruments and make music until late into the night”, Taehyung says.

Yoongi smiles, “that’s a good idea, Tae. You know what we could do right now?”

“Tell us.”

“Make music.”

“Hyung, yes!” Taehyung exclaims, “we haven’t made music together in too long!”

“Okay, we’ll do it”, Yoongi says and reaches into the air to pull a guitar and violin from nothing.

“Woah, did you just pull a guitar and violin out of thin air?”

“Yeah”, Yoongi says, handing the violin to Taehyung, “manifestation magic. The object’s not really permanent, but it’s gonna stay long enough to have fun with it.”

��What do you channel for that to work?”

“Yourself in a sense. You reach into your imagination and pull out whatever you imagine.”

“Wait. Like this?” you ask and try it only to fail, “well, bollocks”, you pout, sagging your shoulders.

Yoongi chuckles fondly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“You’re cute. That’s difficult magic to learn, give it time.”

“I see. God, you’re so cool Yoongi.”

‘Mmh”, another kiss then he sits down on the ground. He looks at his guitar and begins tuning it. Its soft clinking and strumming fills the air together with Taehyung tuning his violin.

The rest of you sit down next to them.

Yoongi relaxes after a few moments by lying down and resting his head on Jungkook’s lap. He is playing the guitar softly, gazing up at him.

“Hey there, hyungie”, he says, combing his fingers through his bangs.

He blinks his eyes at the younger man slowly and gives him a toothless smile. Jungkook continues to play with his hair as Yoongi strums the guitar and gazes at him.

“Done. Your magical violin was terribly out of tune”, Taehyung says and lies down as well, resting his head on your lap.

“Mhm”, Yoongi hums.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, retorting his smile.

“Comfy?”

“Very, you have comfortable thighs.”

“You’re cute”, you say, combing your fingers through Taehyung’s soft locks.

Taehyung lifts the violin to his chin and begins playing.

Something truly magical happens then. Yoongi and Taehyung sync within seconds, complimenting each other’s melody until it becomes one lively song. You imagine flowers blooming in spring and the beginning of a trickling stream. It is soft and gentle like a new beginning which will turn into something bigger with them. For now it dances shyly through the air, making the fire shine brighter and the scents of the night stronger. You glance at Jungkook, exchanging a fond smile with him. Life is well. Life is truly and honestly well.

The next song is lively, showcasing the happiness of life being so, so well. Yoongi and Taehyung have to sit up for it, matching each other’s tempos and supporting the other’s melody perfectly. There are parts where Yoongi’s guitar shines and others were Taehyung’s violin has its moment, while other parts are there for them to harmonise.

You think of running through fields or dancing in pubs when you listen to the melody.

They must have played together like this countless times before. Yoongi knows exactly what notes to play to support Taehyung’s vigorous play and Taehyung knows exactly when to slow down to give Yoongi his time to shine. You never figured that guitar and violin go so well together, but they do. Oh you want to jump up and dance.

“Kookie, do you wanna dance with me?”

“Dance with you?” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “yes. Oh my god, I would love to dance with you “

“Awesome. Come on”, you say and pull him up by his hands.

And so it happens that you and Jungkook dance under the forest trees while Yoongi and Taehyung accompany you with music. The melodies and your squeaky laughter echoes through the forest, letting every way of life know that time together was a wonderful time.

It will always be a wonderful time.

62 notes · View notes

slippinninque · 11 months ago

Text

Winter With Fontaine

The feeling of your finger tips dusting cinnamon and sugar away from his lips is just as addictive as all the sweets you make. He also takes his baking assistant duties very seriously, everything must be tasted.

Despite the chill that overtook most during the winter season, he was shocked to see you get a near boost from it.

He loves the excuse to put his cold hands beneath your big-ass sweaters, holding onto you as you squirm and squeal.

Helping you deliver scarves, hats, and socks that you've begun knitting/gathering up to those who need them. Fontaine discovered that he likes giving gifts to the elderly the most.

Winter used to be bad for him. Cooped up in his darkened home, kept at bay from his only family by a single door. Cold from the drafts he never bothered to fix. Now he is excited because your home has become a winter time oasis, filled with warmth and new beginnings.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He woke to the feeling of your icy little feet sliding back into bed. He tucked closer, pressing his face against the softness of your breasts and inhaling the warm vanilla. He curled up and around you, throwing a leg over for good measure.

"Who said you could leave the bed?" He could feel you laughing as your arms came around him, "You took my heat, woman."

Your answer was to pepper his face with slow, soft kisses until the frown on his face turned into a sleepy pout.

In this little wonderful space of calm, the sounds of rain and wind dancing outside his window, Fontaine hoped you knew he loved you before slipping back into sleep beneath your lips.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You're still laughing."

"I have been sitting here in literal silence."

"I see it in your eyes."

A snicker rocketed out of Fontaine's mouth and your whined, trying to move away from where he was so tenderly disinfecting your knees.

"Don't be like that, I fell too, baby!"

"Yeah, 'cause yo' ass was laughing so hard at me!"

There you were, trying to mind your business and be a good girlfriend to take out the trash! Then an ice patch purposefully formed right in front of your trash can.

One minute you were admiring the frosted branches, the next you were on your stomach Family Guy Style both of your knees on fire. Before you could clear your dizzy, you heard a terrible yelp and the ground near you shook as the love of your life slipped and fell right onto his ass.

And here he was again, laughing again in your face. You tried to repress the urge, but the memory of seeing Fontaine lift his head and look around as if he were pushed...

You curled in on yourself, holding in your snickers as best as you could.

"I should be the one up on the sink, g'damnit. Fell all on by back an' shit, trying to make sure yo' lil' ass was okay." Fontaine shook his head and went back to dabbing your knees.

"You did fall kinda hard, didn't you?" You straightened back up with a sigh, "How fast were you walking down the stairs, anyhow? You should know better when it's icy like that."

Fontaine's head tilted to the side and he stared up at you so miffed that you lost it again. He slapped on the band-aids and began packing up the first aid kit, only adding to your amusement.

"My black ass was only out there 'case someone just had to take out the trash! What do I tell you?"

After tossing the first-aid kit beneath the sink, he put his hands on either side of you. All trace of humor has left his face and to anyone else, he would have appeared thunderous.

You hopped off the sink to go toe-to-toe with him, wearing your own sneer.

"I couldn't leave it, I was the last one to stuff something in it!"

"What do I tell you, woman?"

Fontaine was now nose to nose with you. The sudden eye contact was going to trigger your giggle and the fucker knew that was the only way he could win.

"You claim...that bad things happen when I take out the trash."

"You got chased twice. By the same racoon, mind you."

You took a deep breath to extinguish your laugh, hiding your smile behind a dramatic frown.

"Way to bring up my trauma. Why don't ya just tell me to stay in the kitchen and make sandwiches while you're at it?!"

Fontaine's expression rippled, you nearly had him, "Women ain't supposed to take out the trash, I been told you that. It's bad luck!"

Your expression slipped at his theatrics and you couldn't catch it. Fontaine broke quickly after with a snort. Your own chuckles flowed out and you eventually admitted,

"I was scared of that raccoon, though. That's why I only take the trash out in the daytime now."

Ever the gentleman, Fontaine turned away but you could still see the bastard's shoulders trembling in the mirror.

"Baby, if you could have heard the-the way you said--

You already knew what he was going to bring up your panicked cry of old and you confirmed,

"It came straight at me!"

Fontaine laughed. Folding over you so you both leaned against the sink. You laughing into his crewneck, unable to stop yourself from hugging him. If he laughed like this every day, you'd get chased down by every raccoon in the Glen

In there, that small upstairs bathroom with the loose tile, with the snow falling steadily on the world outside, you understood devotion.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Together you sat on the front porch of your home. It was getting rather chilly, but Junebug insisted that you 'witness greatness'.

"Our block's kids got winter beef with the kids a few blocks over, 'specially with Maeve's boys." You explained to Fontaine who only got up to make more hot chocolate.

It was rather great, though. Once school was let out, it was like a great battle of old. Next Block Kids vs. June n' Da Gang. Snowballs and kiddie curses went flying, but by the time Fontaine returned with enough hot chocolate for a hockey team--a truce was reached.

You passed out the mugs together, enjoying the sounds of the tired but delighted little warriors that defended your home turf. Fontaine tucked you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He looked as happy as you felt, watching as one of Junebug's friends gleefully broke the peace treaty by shoving snow down one of Maeve's boys pants.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

end notes: thank you for reading! I needed to get this out to make room for my other fics lmao.

Tell me what you think! (More to come? 🫣)

#fontaine x black reader #fontaine x blackfemreader #they cloned tyrone #fontaine #i had to get these out so i can focus on other things phew #they cloned tyrone fics #winter fics #most likely more coming lmao #fontaine x black!fem!reader #fontaine x fem!reader

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burning-fcols · 10 months ago

Text

Husker was near clawing down the walls of the hotel, the sudden ban on booze driving him out of his fur in the worst torment possible. Pacing about the lobby, his bar now empty (which he swore was meant to mock him, seeing as Alastor very well could have just gotten rid of it all together instead of clearing it out), his paws were beginning to hurt in a near manic need to move. "This is fucking bullshit, I'm losing my fucking mind over here!" Turning to Angel, Husk's arms moved about in tandem with his words, hoping knowing that the spider would be one of the only ones there that might understand what he was going through. "My fur's fucking crawling, a-and I can't stop fucking shaking!" Sure enough, there was a constant tremor to his body, a feather breaking loose from his vibrating wings every so often to flutter about the floor where it would soon be kicked up by his pacing. "I can't fucking think! Everything just feels, fuck I dunno, warm? No, fucking burning all over, a-and tingly. Even when I was alive, it never felt like this when I was dry..." - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ʜᴇʟʟꜱ-ꜰᴠʀʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 This has to be one of the STUPIDEST ideas yet... and that's including the whole premise for the hotel. Angel can understand the logic behind wanting a squeaky-clean persona for the place. It's sort of hard to preach ❛ redemption ❜ and freedom from vices when actively PROVIDING one right in the main lobby. Yet it hardly matters how well they practice what they preach if no one is around to learn. Angel knows that he's just there to fill a bedroom, ❛ progress ❜ or not. It's a pipe-dream with him, and it's not even his unattainable fantasy. Dreaming of angel wings sprouting from his back and a glowing halo hovering above his head is Charlie's schtick. Pentious is no better, the snake starved for praise not piety.

No, he can't imagine it working for either of them... Or anyone else, if he's being honest. But especially not the patrons they currently have. Lack of liquor isn't going to have people breaking down the doors to get in. It's also not going to stop Angel from indulging in his desires elsewhere, dangerous a decision as that may be. It's a shame, really... He had been enjoying having a place he could grab a drink without wondering when it was going to be spiked. Bartender is pretty cute too.

Speaking of which...

Sitting on a stool by the booze-less bar, he watches Husk practically wear a hole in the floor with his pacing. Gaze follows a feather's sad descent as it shakes lose from a trembling wing. Brows knit and a concerned bite to his bottom lip, Angel's fingers drum on his crossed arms as he mulls over the most delicate way to clarify the others... situation. It's painfully apparent that Husk has no clue what's going on. An affliction that Angel's enhanced senses had pegged as soon as he got near the fidgeting feline. It was overwhelming, the fog of pheromones surrounding the poor guy. Were it when Angel only recently arrived in Hell, he'd have gotten dizzy from how thick the air became... Thankfully, he has a better hold of himself now.

Practice makes perfect, he guesses. That and overexposure to the stuff thanks to a certain aphrodisiac-addled moth. ❝ I, uh... I got a pretty good idea why that is. But you ain't gonna like it, Whiskers. ❞ Angel begins when Husk has finished spewing his shaky woes. One leg crossed over the other, he bounces his knee in a small fidget. ❝ When you were alive, I'm guessin' you weren't exactly... a cat. ❞ A finger lightly motions at Husk with the statement. ❝ An' bein' THIS comes wit' a few— eh, let's call 'em complications. ❞ Normally he'd jokingly refer to it as a ❛ perk ❜ , but now isn't the time. Not with Husk.

Standing up from his seat, Angel then rips off the bandage with a blunt, ❝ Sorry tomcat, yer in heat. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」#hells-fvry #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴀʀᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Husk 」#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Husk 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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rugtopper · 1 year ago

Text

CONFESSIONS OF A FETISH BARBER

BY RUGTOPPER

Sam picked up the telephone after it rang the second time.

“Adonis Hair Replacement Salon, Sam speaking.”

“Sam? This is Troy. How are you?”

“Troy! I’m fine. Good to hear from you. Why are you calling? Your regular appointment is still three weeks away.”

“I have finally decided to take your advice and change pieces. Is there room on your schedule to see me at 2:00 this afternoon? I’ll be through at the station by then.”

“Sure, Troy. I have an appointment at 1:00, but he is my last for the day. My afternoon is yours. I’ll see you at 2:00.”

Sam hung up the phone in the waiting room and went back into the styling room. He picked up a broom and finished cleaning the hair clippings on the floor. Sam had a very traditional barbershop right down to the black and white linoleum tiles on the floor. In the center of the room taking its pride of place was an enormous chrome barber’s chair with fire-engine red leather on the seat and back. This was the chair that Sam’s dad had used for nearly fifty years. This was the chair where Sam had his first haircut. But Sam didn’t have time to dwell on that. He had to finish cleaning up, have a small lunch, take care of his 1:00 appointment, and prepare for Troy. Troy Duncan. What a great guy. Everyone loved Troy. Everyone thought they knew Troy. He had been a fixture at the local TV station for nearly twenty years. Now he strictly did the morning and noon-time broadcasts, but was still a well-known local celebrity. “I wonder what made him decide to switch from a toupee to a full wig,” thought Sam. Troy Duncan had worn a toupee for nearly twenty-seven years. In fact, Sam’s dad had actually done the first fitting on Troy when he was only twenty-two years old. “That was just before Dad retired to Florida,” Sam said out loud to no one in particular. After Sam finished sweeping, he checked his own hair in the mirror before he went back out to the waiting room. Every silvery hair was in place. Of course it was; it never moved. It was made and styled that way. Still, before he left the room, he did give his hair a quick mist with wig hairspray. He knew Howard, his 1:00 appointment would notice. Howard noticed things like that. Howard was a relatively new type of client for Sam. In the last ten years, Sam had had an increase in clients who wore toupees or wigs. Among those were several who were a somewhat unusual because they really wanted to wear a toupee or a wig. In other words, they had no physical lack of hair precipitating the need to cover it up. Howard was one of those men.

As Sam was finishing his lunch at the reception desk, Howard walked in to the salon. He was early.

“Hi, Sam,” Howard said as he closed the office door behind him.

“I know I’m early. I'll sit over here while you finish your lunch.”

“Thanks, Howard. That would be great. I’ll be done in just a bit.”

Howard walked over to the sofa, tugged up his pants legs, and sat down. When he did this, he crossed his right leg over his left knee flashing a short jet-black sock, and the clip of his garter. Howard loved to do this. Sam chose to ignore it. Howard Gunson. Howard was only thirty-one, but he did everything he could to look like a man over sixty. Howard had on his usual barbershop attire. He was wearing hideous pale yellow beltless slacks, a thin-knit white short-sleeved dress shirt, and white patent leather loafers with a gold bar. This would have been marginally okay except that Howard was wearing an athletic undershirt which was clearly visible through the top shirt. Other undergarments were noticeable as well. When he sat down, Sam observed the knee-length boxer shorts with the tiny multi-colored diamonds underneath the beltless slacks. Also, the short dark socks held aloft by garters were clearly, but unnaturally outlined through the pants. Sam had given up trying to figure out why Howard wanted to look like this.

“Okay, Howard, I’m ready if you are.”

Howard came into the styling room.

“Howard, before we get started, don’t you think you’d better undress so we don’t have an accident like the last time?”

“Sure, Sam.”

Howard went to bathroom and undressed. When he returned, he was wearing only his undergarments. His tiny dick was already trying to poke itself out of the oversized boxer shorts that were hiding it. Howard walked across the room and got into the chair. As Sam put the cape around Howard’s neck, he looked at Howard’s hair. It either had to be the worst looking thing Sam had ever done for a client, or the best job Sam had ever done in making something nice look cheap. Howard’s toupee was coal black with a sheen. It covered most of his head. There was a left-sided part, but it was only simulated. You couldn’t see the scalp at all. Sam called this type of part a “pillowed part” or a “carpet part.” Basically, it looked like where two pieces of carpet came together, like on a staircase. The base of the toupee was mostly mesh with just a strip around the circumference for tape. The front of the rug almost embarrassed Sam. There was no lace-front hairline or anything fancy. This was old-school front under venting. Even at 100 yards, you knew this thing wasn’t real. Howard was sheepishly proud of this.

“Okay Howard, let’s get started.”

Sam put both of his hands on the base of Howard’s neck. Just above the neckline he felt for the plastic strip and loosened the tape. Howard moaned just a bit. Sam knew what was happening and stopped for just a moment to give Howard a chance to catch his breath. He put his hands at the base of Howard’s toupee and slowly peeled the toupee forward. As the toupee was removed, Howard moaned again and shot a tiny wad onto the underside of the cape.

“You know, Howard, if you were married, your wife would be so disappointed. We haven’t even started, and you’re already finished.” Sam laughed as he said this. Howard only gave an evil little smirk.

“Don’t ask me to explain it, Sam, I can’t. Just trim what I have and put me back together. I have to be at the newsstand at the airport by 3:00 this afternoon. I’m working a later shift today. You know how much I love working at the airport. It is the best place for rug spotting.”

This was something else Howard loved to do: look for toupees, and be spotted as well. Sam got the hot-lathered foam and put it on Howard’s stubble. He observed the flawless, but man-made Norwood seven horseshoe pattern on Howard’s head. With several quick strokes, Howard’s faint shadow of hair was gone. Sam trimmed the fringe with a four guard as Howard always requested. After this, Sam picked up Howard’s toupee, and placed it at his forehead. He slowly rounded it back into place. He did his best to comb the synthetic hair over the real, but too-short hair. This look made it even easier for it to be spotted.

“By the way, Howard, I hope that at your next appointment we can finally start on your laser hair removal. It will make the mpb ring look more natural when you remove your toupee. Now, up, out of the chair. Get dressed. I have another client coming at 2:00, and I need you to be gone.”

Howard got dressed, paid with a huge tip, and left. Sam swept up and waited for Troy.

Straight up 2:00, in walked Troy Duncan. To the unknowing, one might think he and Howard were alike. They both wore toupees and had the same fetish for undergarments, but that was where it ended. Troy was 48, handsome, fit, well-read, and a genuinely interesting person.

“Get in here, Troy. I did not expect to see you for three weeks much less get a call from you today.” Sam said this as he sat down on the sofa. “Sit down,” Sam said as he patted the sofa. Troy sat down and crossed his left leg over his right knee. Unlike Howard, he did not flash his garter clip even though he was always tempted to do so.

“Now Troy, why have you decided to go with a full wig? I’ve only been trying to get you to wear one for over a year.”

“Well Sam, I remember when you told me that I was losing more hair, that I was slowly but eventually going to move from a six to a seven on the Norwood scale.”

“Yes, and at that point you really need a custom-made piece. Granted, the stock pieces I get for you are good, but they won’t cover the baldness when you get to a seven,” Sam intoned.

“I know,” agreed Troy, “but my reason has less to do with a custom piece and more with the custom price attached to it.”

“You know I’d cut a deal for you. You are one of my most loyal clients . . . and most famous, well, even if no one knows that you are a client.”

“Well, I don't know about people not knowing, but I’m going to make the transition because of work.”

“Work?” Sam asked.

“Yes, work. You remember a while back I sent an audition tape to San Diego for that network job? Well, I finally heard from them yesterday. They went with Justin McKay.”

“Justin McKay? Wasn’t he that kid who interned for you a few years ago?”

“Eight years ago to be exact. Justin McKay interned for me and then the station manager actually hired him to be a researcher before he went to Atlanta. Anyway, when I found out about losing the job in San Diego, I decided just to stay here.”

“What do you mean stay here?”

“The station manager has been wanting me to sign a ten-year contract for over a year. I haven’t because I kept thinking I would move up in the market to a larger network. This was the fourth time I have been passed over. That is one of the things I hate most about news broadcasting: always having to look for the next market job. Anyway, when I signed yesterday, I just decided that now was the time. I have a worn a toupee since I was 22 years old. I just want something that's a lot easier to take care of. I'm getting older. It is time to graduate, so to speak, to a full wig.”

“I remember Dad telling me how nervous you where when you came in for that first fitting.”

“I was a wreck, mainly because I didn’t know what I was getting into. I really wasn’t that interested in wearing a toupee at that time.”

“Really, Troy, I didn’t know that. You seem so comfortable wearing one.”

“Your dad, and later on you, really helped me get comfortable wearing a toupee. My advisor was the one who really guided me to get one. He told me that if I wanted to move from behind the radio microphone to being in front of a camera, I needed a full head of hair. I didn’t think I was that bald, but I was lying to myself. By the time I decided to deal with my hair loss, I think I was almost a four on the Norwood scale with a lot of fuzz. Your dad just shaved me clean so I had a smooth surface for my first toupee. I can tell you I walked out of here with my head held high for the first time in nearly two years. When I made that first appearance for the campus news, I felt like a million bucks. I realized that I had been hiding under a silly plaid riding cap. Anyway, after I lost the job in San Diego, I signed the ten-year contract with the station. It is the same pay, but with lots of bonuses. Also, on the bright side, a full wig every two years costs far less than a toupee every six months.”

“I want to hear more about this Justin what’s-his-name. You said he interned with you?”

“Yes, about eight years ago. I guess the people in San Diego wanted someone younger than me. They can have him and his overly-permed hair.”

“Oh, my! Did you say it was Justin McKay?”

“Yes, what about him?”

“Now, I remember him. Troy, that’s not a perm.”

“What! You mean that awful hair is natural?”

“Only part of it,” Sam hinted.

“You mean Justin McKay wears a rug?”

You got it, Troy. He was one of my first fetish clients,” Sam confessed.

“Fetish clients? What on earth is that? What do they do, suck their toes or something disgusting like that?”

“Well, not exactly that. Nearly ten years ago, I started getting phone calls from men who wanted to be fitted for a toupee. It was only a few, but when they would show up for the consultation, I would discover that they had a full head of hair.”

“You mean these guys were not bald? They weren’t losing their hair at all?”

“No. They just wanted to wear a toupee.”

“I can’t imagine someone who had hair wanting to wear a toupee. I understand being bald and wanting to cover it by wearing a toupee, but to make yourself bald on purpose just to put on a toupee is a little too farfetched for me.”

“You would be surprised, Troy, just how many men actually want to do just that. My last client, just before you came today, is one of them. He is 31 and has worn a toupee on purpose since he was 25. Justin is the same way.”

“Tell me more about Justin and this other guy.”

“Let’s move to the studio so I can start on your new wig while we talk.”

“Okay,” Troy said, but neither of them moved from the sofa.

“Less than a month after you told me Justin had been hired as a researcher,” Sam continued, “I got a call from him. He told me that you had recommended me. He told me he wanted to be fitted for a toupee. I asked him how bald he was. He told me that I would need to remove a lot of hair in order to have a proper fit.”

“How did he find out I came here? Did he follow me? I know he was always asking me where I got my hair done and then he would correct himself by saying, ‘I mean. . cut.’ That always bothered me. Well, keep going.”

“So the day of the appointment came and Justin arrived on time. He had all this unruly hair. He also had a very expensive toupee in a box. He told me that he wanted to wear a toupee and that he had always wanted to wear a toupee. I told him that I just couldn’t wave a magic wand and make him bald. He got hard as a rock when I said that. I told him it would be unethical to make someone bald on purpose. I told him that he was being silly, that he didn’t need a toupee. He was not moved. He just kept begging. Finally, I told him to leave. I told him that I would think about it. He called me the next day crying. He told me that his therapist had suggested that he get a toupee to face his fears of going bald. I told him he wasn’t going bald. He said that he was. I asked for the name of his therapist. He wouldn’t give it, of course, because there wasn’t one. The day after the phone call, he showed up here in a baseball cap crying. He had shaved the top of his head. He was crying and begging me to fit him with the toupee. So, I did.”

“My God! I knew he was a little off the beam, but nothing like this. So, you fitted him with the toupee?”

“I had to. I couldn’t let him leave looking worse than Larry from the Three Stooges. It was awful. He had basically taken a beard trimmer and mowed down the middle of his head. I told him to get in the chair.”

“How did the fitting go?”

“The fitting was routine once I got his scalp prepared. He had buzzed himself to a Norwood four, but the toupee was sized for a five. After I shaped it to a level five, I was ready to shave the stubble. I got the hot-foamed lather and quickly removed all the stubble. At this point he was totally into the whole process. The boy had a ton of hair. When I turned him toward the mirror with his curly toupee setting there on its stand, he made the strangest sound. He actually shot a load in his pants. I wouldn’t let him get up. I made him sit there in all that goo while I finished. I got the toupee off the stand, put tape on the underside, and attached it to his head. The next bit took forever, and I do mean forever, over two hours. I hate working with curly hair. He kept telling me to keep his fringe longer. It really wasn’t all that long, but I did as he asked. It looked well blended, but I knew that without the toupee he was going to look like a clown. He ended up coming back every four weeks for a trim before he got that job in Atlanta. When he moved, that was the last time I saw him. Well, that is the whole saga of my first fetish client. I am sorry you lost the job to him. You are a great reporter.”

“Thanks, Sam. Can we start on my wig now? You can tell me about that other guy then. What’s his name?”

“Yes, we can start. You had better undress. These wigs are long and loaded with tons of hair. They make them that way. They come fuller than necessary. Anyway, the guy’s name is Howard. I’ll tell you about him when you get back from the bathroom.”

Troy got up and went to the bathroom to undress. He always did this whenever he had a new fitting. It was easier, cleaner, neater, and just more comfortable. As Troy walked across the room to the bathroom, he moved various items from his pants pockets to his suit-coat pockets. He also thought to himself, “How many times have I done this? How many toupees have I gotten since I was 21?” Today was something new for Troy. When he got into the bathroom, he removed his coat and hung it on one of the pegs inside the door. He closed the door and looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He loved how his tight athletic undershirt looked beneath his crisp white dress shirt. He removed his tie and hung it up. Off came the shirt and down came the pants. They slid off easily over his wing tips which he liked to keep on. Seeing himself in his tight undershirt tucked into his knee-length boxer shorts, thick-n-thin socks and garters, he gave himself a queer little smile. He said out loud to himself, “And now off goes the hair, old man.” Troy walked out of the bathroom, sat down in the barber’s chair. Sam put a fresh cape around his neck and slowly lifted the back of Troy’s toupee. Same removed it from front to back. The extent of Troy’s baldness was overwhelming to take in. Sam had been right. Troy was almost a full Norwood six. His peaks and his temples were completely gone.

“Are you sure you want to do this,” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“Sideburns as well,” Sam asked.

“Sideburns as well. There is too much gray in them, and I never really liked them anyway. Shave it all. It will be easier in the long run.”

Sam turned on the clippers and removed Troy’s sideburns and all of his fringe. Next, he got the hot-foamed lather and the razor and removed the stubble. Suddenly, there sat Troy Duncan - Channel 14’s lead anchorman totally bald and slowly getting a massive erection.

“Oh, God! I knew this day might come, but I wasn’t really prepared for it. I’m totally and completely bald. I don’t believe it. I am completely bald.”

“Okay, Troy. Get over it. You’ve been bald most all of your adult life. Now, it is just a greater level of baldness. Welcome to my world," Sam said as he laughed. Troy lied, as well.

Now Troy, I have two styles for you. There are four wigs, two in each style. One is a traditional left-sided part, just like the toupee you’ve been wearing for several years. The other style is slightly fuller with a casual, brushed-back look to it. I really think you should go with that. I think it looks better with your facial features. Also, with this youth-obsessed market, I think it will be more attractive. What do you think?”

“I think I need to go with the hipper, brushed-back look. I’m changing from a toupee to a wig. I might as well get a better looking style as well. I also want to stop talking about my hair so you can tell me about Howard and some of your other clients. Confession is good for the soul. Confess!”

Sam put the wig on Troy’s head and turned him toward the mirror.

“I’m not going to leave it like this of course. It will be over the ears and above the collar - very professional, but casual. Okay, now about Howard. I think you might know who he is. He has a newsstand at the airport. He runs an okay business, but with him, everything is about toupees. He loves spotting guys who wear them. He also loves being spotted. He really gets off if someone notices his rug. He actually gets sweaty palms if someone stares at his hairline while they are talking to him.”

“Really? I think I know who are talking about. Maybe I should chat him up sometime just to mess with him. He’s not dangerous, is he?”

“Howard! No, he’s harmless. If you do decide to chat with him, you might pull back your coat so he can see your undershirt. He has a real underwear fetish as well.”

“Should I flash him a glimpse of garter,” Troy asked as he kicked his gartered leg out from under the giant barber’s cape.

“No, Howard might soil himself right there in the airport,” Sam laughed.

“Okay, who else is there? Keep going.”

Same continued cutting and thinning and styling Troy's new wig as he proceeded to "confess" about more of his clients.

"Well, there is Larry, the used car salesman."

"Don't tell me. He's overweight and wears a lot of gaudy jewelry?"

"No. Larry hates jewelry. Plus he is somewhat trim, even if it isn't totally natural."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I happened to notice that he looked like he had lost weight, so I complimented him. He informed me that he got tired of dieting and had gotten one of those girdle shirts that flattens everything."

Troy laughed. "So what about his hair? Is he one of your fetish clients, too?"

"Yes. He had always wanted to wear a rug, so he started tweezing his hair out. However, he quickly discovered how tedious and painful that was. He had me laser his hair off so he could permanently wear a hairpiece."

"You mean you destroyed his hair? I didn't know you were licensed to do laser hair removal, Sam."

"I've been licensed to practice that for years. Anyway, Larry had found this blond synthetic hairpiece online that he really liked. His bio hair is almost white, and doesn't match the hairpiece at all. Still Larry loves it and the attention he gets. Anyway, I have had quite a few clients over the years who have had me do laser hair removal. One of my clients is a security guard at one of the casinos here in Vegas."

"You mean some guy had all his hair lasered off?"

"Yes. He said he was tired of shaving it all the time. He's huge and muscular. The look works for him.

"Okay, Troy. I need to rinse this wig, remove it, and begin on the other one."

Sam rotated the barber's chair and lowered it. He gingerly rinsed all the loose hair from Troy's new wig. He raised the chair and gently applied a towel to Troy's head. He took a blow dryer and began styling Troy's new wig. He knew Troy wanted a hipper version of his old style, but he knew Troy's conservative tastes. He styled it off the forehead, with an easy, brushed back look. He turned the chair toward the mirror.

"So, what do you think, Troy?"

"It's perfect, Sam. Just like what we have discussed a few times over the past year. There is just enough up-sweep which I like, but not a retro pompadour. Now, any more stories? The confessional is still open."

Sam removed Troy's wig and placed it on a stand in front of the mirror next to the other, uncut model. Suddenly Troy felt vulnerable, as he always did without his hair. He shouldn't, but he did. He had been bald for half his life, hiding it under a rug. He liked to think he was fooling most of the people all of the time, but deep down, he knew most people strongly suspected that he wore a hairpiece. Yes, this new wig was nice, but it was even more obvious than his toupee. He knew he would get tons of junk emails commenting on his new look. He didn't have any fringe in which to blend it, and now no sideburns. Sam had done a great job thinning out the wig, but the temples were obviously taped to his now totally hairless scalp. His fringe before had been thin and wispy. He knew this fuller wig would look a lot better. Sam put tape on the second wig and put it on Troy's totally bald head. He liked the tight grip of the tape on his scalp. Since that first day he had put on his new toupee in his dorm room, he had always enjoyed how it felt sitting on his bald head.

"Well, Troy," Sam said as he began cutting on Troy's spare wig.

"Well what, Sam? Are you going to continue with the confessions?"

"Let me make a quick phone call, and then I'll give you an exclusive confession that will snap your garters."

Sam quickly returned a few minutes later with a smile on his face.

"So, what makes this next confession so much better than the others you have shared?"

"Well, this one is about me, Troy."

"You? I thought you were naturally bald. When I first came here all those years ago, you were already wearing a toupee. If I remember correctly you're only four years older than me. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Troy. I just turned 52. And, yes, I was wearing a toupee when we first met, but it was partly due to my desire to be like my dad."

"I don't understand, Sam."

"You knew my dad along with two other barbers in town kept all the male stars and celebrities looking their best when they would perform at the casinos. Whenever one of the barbers would order a new wig for a certain tipsy member of the Rat Pack, he would also order one for my dad. My dad really liked that full style. All the Hollywood stars had their own barbers or used Max Factor. Here in the desert, if a man was going bald, he either went without hair or went with second best. Anyway, I'm getting away from my story. When I started working here, sweeping up after school as a teenager, I noticed that a lot of my dad's customers were uncomfortable with me around because I had a full head of hair. One day after work I asked my dad if I embarrassed him because I didn't wear a hairpiece like he did. That really upset him because he said that I could never embarrass him. That's when I told him that I really wanted to wear a toupee like he did. He said that I was being silly. He said there was no way he would let me wear one when I didn't need to wear one. I asked him if he would let me wear one if I did need one. He said he would. So, I took the clippers and gave myself a tiny bald spot. He couldn't believe I did it. He made me wait until the next day to fit me with a little slider that he had in a drawer."

"A slider? What's that?"

"Oh, that is a little piece for the crown area. It can be worn with clips or glue."

"So, you're telling me that you had a toupee fetish just like some of your clients?"

"Yes, Troy, I am. I started wearing a rug when I was still in high school. By the time I graduated and went to beauty school, I was a full Norwood five."

"What did your friends at school think?"

"Those that knew, thought that my dad made me wear one for his business. I couldn't let people think my dad was that cruel. I told them that I was losing my hair and didn't want to be bald. Remember Troy, this is Los Vegas. Everyone cares about how they look. Half the girls in my graduating class wore extra padding in their bras!"

As Sam was finishing his confession to Troy, the chime on the front door rang.

"I thought I was your last client, Sam. I can't let anyone see me. The public may suspect that I wear a hairpiece, but I don't want them to have a face-to-face confirmation."

"He's not coming in here, Troy. Let me rinse and style this wig while I explain. Now, he is a long-time client, but he's not here for an appointment. You see, I have a second confession to make. You probably don't remember Sean Dugan. He was a professional bodybuilder and model, but after a car accident, he was working part-time as a security guard at your station when you were having all those issues with Justin. He found out that Justin was the one who kept sabotaging your network chances.

Sam turned Troy around in the chair, rinsed all the loose hair from the spare wig, and then began styling it like he had the first one.

"Troy, Sean, was the one who brought Justin here. He hated how Justin would talk about you behind your back at the station. Sean hated the snide comments Justin made about your toupee. Sean put a stop to it by convincing me to teach Justin a lesson with my laser. He didn't have to work very hard."

Troy got up out of the chair, took off the barber's cape, and walked into the lobby. He didn't say anything. He just walked up to Sean, softly put both hands on his face, and kissed him the way he had always dreamed of years ago when he would see him at the station.

After that long, passionate kiss Sean just looked down at Troy Duncan's old-fashioned undergarments and smiled. Troy just smiled as he glanced up at Sean's light cocoa colored toupee.

Later, the two of them went out to eat, but ended up back at Troy's condo for dessert and more.

(You can fill in the rest!)

#cheap toupee #hair replacement for men #male transformation #toupee for men #voluntary bald fringe #men's tank tops #men in boxers #vintagemen #men's sock garters #men's wigs #a-shirt #boxer shorts #sock garters #traditional men #becoming traditional

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neteluvr-library · 1 year ago

Text

OKAY ITS ME IM BACK AT MY RE-READ OF CARDIGAN...i thought i would be able to knock out the entire cardigan series in a weekend but i just realized its gonna take me longer than that AHAHA anyway im just really excited so without further ado...

This place filled you with so much warmth. It was clear to you the bond these people had to each other, to the clan, to the nature surrounding them, was something you will never experience for yourself, something your mum talked incessantly about every day, and you suppressed a small cry at the sudden loss of a connection you didn’t even know you longed for until now.

I feel this exact same way except its about the fact that i live in a non-walkable city 😒 AHAAH just kidding...but not really. i want to hold atan and tell her everything will be alright. BABY YOU GOTTA LET YOURSELF BE PART OF A COMMUNITY THO!!!!! i cant imagine how alienating (get it..) it must feel to grow up so close to such a tight knit community, but not be apart of it. it's like being a fish in a glassbowl.

“Y/N! I have missed you so muchhh, you have to ask mum and dad to let me come to the lab more often, I never get to see you anymore!!” She cried in your neck, still holding on to you for dear life.

TUK WILL ALWAYS BE THE CUTEST!!!! i love their relationship throughout the entire cardigan saga. i will be really sad when the next movie comes out and tuk is grown ):

HONEY YOU GOT A BIG STORM COMING!!

Neteyam couldn’t stop staring at his baby brother’s back as he carried you in his arms, and he couldn’t stop the twinge of jealousy that bubbled deep beneath the surface.He got to carry you, he got to touch you, he got to laugh with you every damn time he pleased, and now he gets to introduce you to your new life.

WELL THATS TOO DAMN BAD NETEYAM I WONDER WHOSE FAULT THAT IS!!!!

“Guys, I know I have not reacted in a way appropriate for the sheer insane size and meaning of this gift, but I promise that despite my very slow processing times, I am incredibly grateful and happy for this. I cannot believe something like this is even possible, and I can believe even less that it was done for me! But while I struggle to comprehend the magnitude of what’s going to happen to me, let’s open some presents!!”

THIS ALWAYS MAKES ME GIGGLE...like atan just got a life changing gift and the only way she can respond is with this formal ass thank you. NERD ALERT!!!!!! but also i don't like opening gifts in front of people because i cant hide my facial reactions so this is valid.

You may think you know everything because you sit here hunched over books written by humans who couldn’t see even if it hit them in the face with a stick, but you know nothing about the real world. Nothing about what’s waiting for you starting tomorrow, if you do this. Tell Norm no.”

BRO HE MAD!!!! SUCK MY DICK NETEYAM...the audacity of him to think he can leave atan behind then tell her what to do. i know its his defense mechanism but DAMN!!!

I always expected you to outgrow me. I just had an ounce of hope you would have enough decency to do it while looking me in the eye. I felt like I earned that, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you.”

): ): ):

andra bb i always feel like im in your mentions, replies, inbox, and likes and i feel so annoying AHHAAH but please excuse me because im going to try and annotate chapter 4 and 5 (its 12 am so i might not finish) BUT I REALLY WANT TO ANNOTATE MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS SO IM PUSHING ON

Illicit Affairs | Chapter III: Exile

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader (later Avatar!Reader)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Your 18th birthday has finally arrived, and with it, a gift that will change your life and your relationships - forever.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, cursing

Word Count: 3,9k words

A/N: Hi Guys! The 3rd chapter is finaaally here, and 'm happy to say that whilst so far everything's been mostly intro and world building, things will be picking up very quickly. Hope you enjoy this story of two very broken people finding each other <;3

"You were my town Now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before So I'm leavin' out the side door"

You didn’t dare look back at Neteyam. No, you kept a straight face and your gaze forward as you walked towards the village, engaging in small talk with your 3 friends, who were more than willing to fill in the silence by themselves. They knew you liked to keep to yourself and knew better than to take it personally.

Your friends also knew, despite not mentioning, that this is a colossal feat, getting you out of the lab, getting you to leave your comfort bubble that you, willingly or unwillingly, built for yourself the past 18 years. Kiri fondly remembers you as a child, wild and free, running around barefoot on the grass and mud as if Pandora and her trees were just your own personal playground. She took a small gander at your feet, now safely covered with a pair of black Converse sneakers, the likes of which she’s seen other humans wear before and tried not too dwell on all the moments that lead you here.

You arrived at the village after a long, pleasant walk. You were fascinated with the Pandora flora, and wondered if you were ever going to get used to it, ever not have your breath hitch in your throat at its beauty. You hoped not. Your heart started to race as the sound of people idly chattering filled your ears. Soon enough, you began to see fire and tents, as the Na’vi were making their way back home at the dusk of another day. You saw some of them removing game from the back of their pa’li, others filleting a huge fish that you recognised as a dinicthoid, and as you walked further in, saw kids running around playing with toy ikrans and laughing amongst themselves, as their mothers lay on the ground watching them in adoration.

You made your way to the biggest tent you could reasonably see, one that you quickly recognised as the Sully family tent. It was ornate and adorned with intricate designs and two large fire lamps framing each side of the opening. It was a sight to behold, and you realised that it hasn’t changed much since you last visited. You also started to take note of the stares boring into your side from all around you and felt grateful at how close you were to the tent’s entrance.

Almost on command, Jake Sully peered out of the tent and you watched as a wide smile replaced his previously confused expression. He was a handsome man, as much so now as he was in the still frames of your past. He was dressed in celebratory garments, a fiery red loincloth dropping from his waist and a dazzling beaded neck piece that matched. He had several arm bands circling his arms, and you took note of the way the colour palette matched that of Toruk, and how well that seemed to compliment him. He was a handsome man, you thought to yourself. Damn the Sullys and their genetics.

“Y/N, my God you’ve grown. What the hell happened??” He said, enthusiastically. He circled you curiously and eyed you intently. You tried not too blush at the sudden scrutiny and how it mirrored your own just a few moments ago. “You have time to lift weights in between experiments??”

You let out a small laugh. “Hi, Jake. It’s good to see you, it’s been a while.”

“It’s been too long. You never visit, but we’re hoping that will change soon.” He said, then eyed the kids behind him, and whatever expression he was met with made him quickly bite on his bottom lip and turn around, as if to stop himself from saying any more.

A small shriek came from behind him, one that you instantly recognise and you smile widely at the little girl, who, since you last saw her, somehow became as tall as you.

“Tuk-tuk”, you say warmly and watch the animated figure jump up and down and encircle you roughly in a bear-hug. Damn, she’s stronger than you already, you sighed.

“I know, dear girl. I missed you, too. I’ll make sure it will never be this long before we see each other again, how does that sound?” You speak to this child you love like your own sister in Na’vi, her English skills the least proficient. She nodded her head vigorously and with that, let go.

She took your hand in hers and made her way into the tent, and you felt relief flood your being at finally being out of people’s sights. Two majestic women, tall and mighty as the Valkyries in your mum’s Norse Mythology books stood by the fire. They were chatting softly to each other and stopped as they heard you come in.

Neytiri and Mo’at looked at you intently and you felt yourself cower under the intensity of their gaze. Neytiri slowly approached you with movements so nimble and fluid you were thinking she could have made a career as a ballerina back on Earth.

After a while, she kneeled on the ground in front of you and placed her long, toned arm on your much tinier shoulder.

“My Child, you have grown so much.” She smiled kindly at you, and you felt yourself tear up at her choice of words addressing you.My child…

Before you could stop yourself, you felt your arms cross the space between you and circle her neck. The necklace she was wearing scratched your skin painfully, but you didn’t care. “I see you. I’m sorry.”

Neytiri’s arms tightened around you and you heard a smile in her voice as she said “Oh, my sweet child, you don’t have to be sorry.”

You spent the evening catching up. You told them about your work in the lab, about how you all scrambled to find any cure or at least partial treatment to the illnesses that seem to have escalated recently among the tribes’ people. They tell you about training, Lo’ak and Neteyam’s training as well as Kiri’s, who has been spending most of her time learning the ways of the Tsahik, having a natural skill for it.

You find yourself drooling at the delectable food, and are happy when Mo’at calls everyone to the meal around the fire pit in the centre of the tent. You wait for everyone to get a portion first, and smile fondly when Neyriti passes you a leaf with all the goodies on it. You dig in, realising how famished you actually were.

“So, Y/N”, Jake starts, “how does it feel being 18? I remember turning 18, don’t remember much else about that day though”, he says, smiling proudly to himself.

“Feels just the same as being 17, I’m afraid. Was really hoping the Universe might give me some sort of sign or epiphany or, anything, really, but, in reality, I feel the same as I did yesterday, and all the days before that. The food’s much better today, though” You finish with a grin, as you dig into another piece of teylu.

“Right, well, about that.. us and the kids thought, with you spending so much time on your own, you deserve a special birthday and some special gifts. Now you can see them in the corner of the tent there, but I warn you, you’re not allowed to open them until back at the lab.”

You peered over his shoulder curiously, and were again disappointed to have to wait for a surprise you didn’t want in the first place.

“After dinner, we can all go back to the lab, and you can open them in the hub while we watch, we know how much you love being surprised!”

“Wow, going out after curfew, I actually do feel kind of special.”

“You should, kid.”

Putting all the wrapped objects on the back of a Pa’li, you watched as Jake mounted his own and motioned for you to get on, in front of him. You did as you were told quietly, and the entire family made its way towards the lab. It was a much quicker journey back, and soon enough you found yourself dismounting in front of the cold heavy walls of the hub. Before you could enter though, Lo’ak passed you a cloth of some sort, and wordlessly asked for you to tie it around your eyes.

“Oh, come oon!”, you said with a deep groan, but obliged regardless. What was the point of resisting now. You knew one thing though, you were very excited to go back to bed tonight, as the emotional toll this day was taking on you was, although not worse than expected, heavy enough for you to feel its weight for days to come.

As soon as you entered the lab and removed your mask, you put the covering over your eyes, and felt Lo’ak, you knew, pick you up from the ground and carry you bridal style through the halls of the hub. You couldn’t quite tell where you were going, but you heard snickering behind you, and soon enough, Lo’ak put you down carefully and turned you around to face him.

“Now, Y/N, you’re gonna turn around and we’re going to need you to not pass out. Deal?”

“What? This is strange, guys.”

You felt him turn you around and felt gentle hands unwrap the cloth covering your eyes. Your eyes took a minute to adjust to the bright artificial light of the lab, and then pause.

One. Two. Three.

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was clearly displayed in front of you. You recognised your surroundings quickly enough. The Morgue, the other humans called it. A room where the avatars of the dead humans, now serving no purpose, were kept in their respective incubators. Your eyes were immediately drawn, as if on instinct, to your mum’s avatar. You never came here, you couldn’t. Your gaze then shifted to the incubator to the left of your mum’s, the one that hosted Grace Augustin, Kiri’s mum. On the right of your mum, though, there was usually an empty incubator. There, now floated and twitched a body, blue, tall and strong, connected to an artificial umbilical cord. You peered at it intently, something about it making you shift uncomfortably towards it. Suddenly, you felt yourself stiffen in shock, and heard a loud thud as the mask and the connecting oxygen pack dropped to the ground. The new blue body looked like… you.

Neteyam, just like the rest of his family, has known about this for months, maybe longer. Norm, his dad’s closest friend, came to the village one day and announced to the family that him and the rest of the scientists worked tirelessly for years to figure out a way to make you an avatar, and with a lot of help from your deceased’s mother’s work and research, as well as some of her DNA, they cracked the code. The newly made Avatar was a miracle of sorts, nobody having thought it would be possible to create on Pandora, so far from all the resources normally used to make one back on Earth. But they did it, and it will be ready in time for your 18th birthday. Norm wanted to make sure, if it succeeded and you accepted it, they will in turn accept you in the village, just like they accepted Jake so many years ago. He wanted you to be able to have a life, not just a body, and be able to finally be free of the shackles you have created for yourself for years on end.

Neteyam couldn’t tell how he felt about it, partly due to the fact he’s stopped himself from thinking about it since he’s found out. Whilst his siblings and even parents were buzzing in excitement, he was scared. If you were to now be there, in the village, in his life, every day, he will be forced to deal with you, with the two of you, and the feelings he knew were buried in him for a reason. He stopped at the top of the stairs of the room where he knew the Avatar lay. Nobody cared about him at the moment, and, as a result, was relieved to figure out he doesn’t have to join you in the room and see your future body, currently inanimate and floating in liquid he didn’t know or didn’t want to know the origins of. If this was to happen anyway, he’d rather meet you properly, and see if the same flicker of curiosity and unruly smile could ever reflect in the same way it does on your current face, the one that still haunts his dreams.

You couldn’t formulate words… or thoughts, for that matter. You stared at the Avatar for what it feels like hours, and finally, Norm cleared his throat and spoke.

“I know this is a lot to take in. But we wanted your 18th to be special, Ace. We have been working in secret for years to get this done, because you deserve it. You deserve the world, and you can’t have it in this lab. This world also deserves you. So now you can go and show it what you’ve got.”

“We’re so happy for you to join us, my child.” You heard Neyriri join in.

“Do you want to see the gifts we made for you?” Tuk jumped in, enthusiastically.

With a last look at your Avatar, you turned around and faced the people you knew would be looking at you expectantly. You didn’t know what the feelings you were feeling were, but they were all fighting to take over, and you felt yourself becoming dizzy. Steading yourself, you recognised that words will have to appear on your tongue sooner or later, and you managed to get out a whisper “Sure, Tuk-tuk, let’s go!”

Everyone around you exchanged weird looks; they really thought you would be a lot happier about this than you were. You tried your best to put on a happy smile and react in the way you knew people would be wanting you to; after all, this was indeed an incredibly nice, thoughtful and attentive gift, not to mention damn fucking impressive, and whatever trauma the thought of having to pilot this Avatar brought in you, it was something you were going to have to deal with by yourself, later.

You made your way slowly towards the recreation hub where all the packages were placed on one of the long tables. You chuckled awkwardly and took one of them in your hands. The wrapping, you realised, was the same material like the one used to make the Na’vi loincloths.

The one you held in your hands currently was blue. You unwrapped it, careful as to not damage it at all, and was shocked to see a dazzling necklace, one of the most beautiful ones you have even seen. It was a leather chocker, which adorned green and red stones, and it reminded you a lot of the bracelet you were currently wearing. You turned around and looked at Kiri, whose masterful hands you knew crafted it. She was sitting on one of the benches and you couldn’t help become emotional looking at your friend, your amazing friend, who you have known all of your life, and who always collected trinkets from the woods, trinkets that now will decorate your new body.

The next package was heavier, and upon opening it, you were shocked to discover a rider’s mask, like the one the Na’vi wear when flying an Ikran; it was brown and braided and had bones adorning it. The lenses were translucent and shone in iridescent hues as you looked at it from all angles. You were in awe at the inadvertent admission that someone thought you capable of one day passing the Iknimaya, and you felt quite confident in saying Lo’ak was the master behind this gift.

“I thought, you will definitely need it one day, and I wanted to get a jump start.” He says, as if reading your mind. “You may not know it now, but I think you were born for this, Angel.”

You had no words to say to that, but were touched at how Lo’ak always seemed to believe in you more than you believed in yourself. You took a silent oath to try to live up to the version of you Lo’ak kept with him in his heart.

The second to last package was also quite small and seemed to rattle as you picked it up. As you unwrapped it, you didn’t quite make sense of the bundle of feathers and chains, but eventually Neytiri kindly stepped in and untangled it, and you realised it was a top, a beautiful, sheer top, and you found it hard to believe this will actually cover anything. You were excited to put it on though, and felt a tingle of anticipation for tomorrow that was not there before… these were yours, for your body, for your future, a future where riding your own Ikran might be more than just a dream of an out-of-reach fantasy.

“Thank you so much.” You wanted to say more, you wanted to tell them the turmoil in your heart and how scared you truly were, and how you wish they would understand and reach over and heal the broken mess that was your mind so you could finally just go, get out of this place and make your life something actually worth living, but you couldn’t make any other words come out. So you just said thank you.

As the family and the scientists continued chatting, you managed to slip by unnoticed out of the recreation hub and made your way down the hall, looking for the missing Sully you knew would be somewhere in here, by himself. You were so mad at him, so much resentment had built up in you from the year you’ve spent apart, from the less than ideal reunion, and from his continuous attempts to avoid you at all costs. It was your birthday, for god’s sake. He could at least pretend to be happy to be here, even if only for the sake of the memories you shared.

You found him in your room, looking over the books in your makeshift library, mindlessly playing with something in his large hands. His ears twitched as you approached, an obvious sign he heard you, but made no effort to acknowledge your presence. You half smiled at the view, and tried not to remember all the other times he has been in your room, just like he was now. You sat on your bed and waited patiently for him to speak, like you once used to do. It might take some time, but he always spoke.

“I don’t think you should do it.” He says, without looking at you.

“You think I shouldn’t do what?”

“This, the Avatar thing. I think it’s a bad idea.”

You sat there, in silence for a while while his words twirled in your mind like his green bracelet was twirling in his hands. You didn’t realise your mouth was wide open until you felt it dry up and you swallowed involuntarily in response.

“Excuse me?”

He turned around to face you and you saw a hard look mark his features, the old Neteyam, your old Neteyam merely a long-forgotten dream.

“You’re not going to make it, Y/N. You haven’t spent more than a week outside in the past 3 years. You may think you got this, cause you work out in a dark stuffy room with some weights and jump a rope, but it’s not going to mean jack shit when you’re out there, in a wilderness so harsh it claims brave Na’vi men and women’s lives every day. You may think you know everything because you sit here hunched over books written by humans who couldn’t see even if it hit them in the face with a stick, but you know nothing about the real world. Nothing about what’s waiting for you starting tomorrow, if you do this. Tell Norm no.”

The rage you felt blossomed like deadly nightshade and you knew whatever it was you once felt for Neteyam was dead and buried six-feet-under in that moment. You let out a bitter chuckle and rose up from the bed, placing your body in front of him.

“You know, when I saw you standing here, in my room, after all this time, I felt some sort of sick hope. I hoped you had finally come to your senses and decided you would apologise for the way you’ve treated me. For the way you left. I’m not stupid, believe it or not. I never expected whatever we had to last. After all, it was only a matter of time before the mighty future Olo’eyktan realised his attentions are better focused on more worthwhile things, like training, or, I don’t know, finding the best future Tsahik. I always expected you to outgrow me. I just had an ounce of hope you would have enough decency to do it while looking me in the eye. I felt like I earned that, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you.”

“You know, I fucking hate surprises. I just never thought you’d be one of the reasons why.”

The silence felt heavy and all you could hear was your panting breath, as you were trying to reign in your tempestuous emotions and the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Neteyam.”

You found yourself forcefully taking the bracelet from his much larger hand and removing yourself from his path, motioning towards the open door. He left without saying a word and you shut the door behind you with a loud thud.

So far 18 was not your favourite age.

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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—the love bug. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you

⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog!

You see Jungkook every night without fail.

When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.

Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.

You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.

This night isn’t any different.

You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.

You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.

“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”

The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.

“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”

Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”

Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”

“No thanks.”

“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”

Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”

The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”

“She said she’s not interested.”

The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”

Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.

“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”

You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.

“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.

“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”

Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”

“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”

You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.

As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.

“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”

“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”

The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”

Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”

“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”

“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”

He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.

“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”

Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.

“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.

As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.

You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.

Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.

You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.

You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.

You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.

You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.

“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”

Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”

Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”

Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”

“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”

The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.

“Well, anyone, for that matter.”

The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?

“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”

The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”

Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.

“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”

You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.

“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.

But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.

Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.

“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”

“It’s you!” You exclaim.

“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”

Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”

You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.

When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.

The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.

Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.

Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.

“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.

“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”

“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”

“You have? Who told you?”

This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”

A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.

“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”

Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”

“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”

“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.

“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”

Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.

Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”

Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.

“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”

“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”

“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”

Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.

That night you can hardly sleep.

You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.

It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.

A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.

“You again?” You ask humorously.

“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”

“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”

The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”

“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.

“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”

“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”

“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”

“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”

“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”

“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.

“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”

“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”

“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”

You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.

The days pass in a very typical blur.

Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.

It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.

“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”

Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”

Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”

“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”

“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”

As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.

“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”

Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”

And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.

Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.

If only he could be so brave without that mask.

On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.

Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”

As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”

You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”

“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”

When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”

“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I can name a few. Like the police.”

“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”

You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.

“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”

Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.

“Jungkook, I━”

But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”

“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.

You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━

“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”

You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”

“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”

Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”

The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.

“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”

“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”

The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.

“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”

You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.

Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.

In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.

On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.

You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.

You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.

“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.

His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”

“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”

His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”

You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?

It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.

Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.

You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”

“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”

You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.

“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”

“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”

The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.

“To add to the mystique?” he says.

“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”

“They would never be able to catch me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”

You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.

“What fame? People want to lock me up.”

“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”

“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.

“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”

A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.

“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”

“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”

He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.

“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”

When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.

“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”

This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.

The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.

Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook.

The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.

The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.

Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”

“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.

“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”

His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.

He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.

“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”

The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.

“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.

He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I show you something?”

You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”

“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”

You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.

You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.

You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.

It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.

The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.

You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.

You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.

A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.

“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”

His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”

He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”

The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.

He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.

There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.

You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.

You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”

Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.

“What’s up?”

Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”

Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”

Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?

“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.

“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”

Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.

“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”

Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”

“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”

“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”

A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”

Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then you’re kissing him.

You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.

You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says weakly.

You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”

“No.”

“What?”

You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.

“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”

You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”

“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.

Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.

“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”

Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”

When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”

“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”

“It’s not that simple━”

“It sure seems like it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.

“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”

“But I can handle it,” You insist.

“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”

Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.

You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.

In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.

It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.

There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.

“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.

“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”

Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.

“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”

“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”

“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.

“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”

You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”

You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━

“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”

Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.

He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.

You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.

Red and blue.

Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.

Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god! Jungkook!”

Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.

“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”

His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”

“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”

A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”

Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.

Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.

When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.

“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”

Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”

He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.

There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.

You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.

Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.

Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”

You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.

“Come here,” he mumbles.

You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.

You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”

“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.

“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.

“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”

He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.

“Really?”

Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”

He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man is cool.”

“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”

A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.

“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”

“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”

The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.

“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”

You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”

“I’m listening.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”

He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”

You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.

Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.

“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”

The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.

“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”

God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.

Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.

He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”

His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.

“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”

Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.

“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.

He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”

Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”

He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.

“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”

For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.

“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”

You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.

“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.

He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.

Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.

Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.

“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.

“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”

And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.

“Like this?” You gasp.

He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”

“Tell me,” You breathe.

Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.

“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”

You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.

You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.

So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”

He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.

Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.

He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.

When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.

“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”

Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”

“I know that,” he chuckles.

“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”

Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.

Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky in Love

Pairing: poly!Dream Team x gn!reader

Summary: [Soulmate!AU] It’s one thing to meet your soulmate in a lottery, and another to have more than just one. But when you end up winning Dream’s Minecraft Manhunt raffle, you find your world turning upside down in ways you least expect.

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: behold, my first commissioned story! this story has been altered from it’s original form so everyone can read it, but the majority of the plot and writing remain the same. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all like it! <3

You stumbled into your bedroom with a yelp, your thumb flying across your phone screen to the home button and pressing gently. With a gleam, the time flashed back at you, and your eyes shot wide open.

You were going to be late.

Leaning forward on one leg, you pushed the door behind you shut with your foot, bouncing forward as soon as you heard it click shut. Your eyes swept across the room, your gaze catching on a swath of black cloth sitting at the foot of your bed. With a quirk of your lips, you tugged the shirt off the mattress before turning on your heel. Darting to the other side of the room, you easily settled back into your desk chair and let the shirt drop onto your thighs.

Grabbing your mouse, you moved your cursor to the YouTube bookmark at the top of your screen, your computer screen instantaneously flooding with light. You scrolled over to the left side of your screen, your mouse hovering over a familiar green icon before clicking, a new box popping into view.

Stream starting in 60... 59... 58... 57...

You felt your lungs tighten within your rib cage, your toes curling ever so slightly into the floor. It had been a nerve-wracking month of waiting and pacing, crossing each day off the calendar with an anxious grin. You almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Letting out one last breath, you leaned forward, the t-shirt feeling heavy in your lap.

3... 2... 1...

All of a sudden, the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you from the dim screen, your excited eyes peering back at yourself with a curious glint. Reaching up, you brush an unkempt lock of hair away from your forehead, just in time for two familiar faces and a lime green icon to appear.

The Dream Team.

“Hey, guys!” Dream said, his voice sounding like a breath of fresh air. “How are you all doing?”

A flurry of hearts flew across the live chat screen, the lines moving by so quickly that you couldn’t tell when one message ended and another started. Practically bouncing in your seat, you couldn’t help the smile that skittered across your cheeks.

“Good,” you whispered aloud to yourself in the quiet of your room. You knew that they couldn’t hear you when you talked like that, that they wouldn’t know you had even replied at all, but it made their streams feel a little more lively nonetheless.

After a brief pause, Dream’s voice filtered through the air once more, just as bright and eager as it was earlier. “Good? I hope the answer is good.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart flipping in your chest as your fingers curled into the shirt in your lap. That sort of thing happened sometimes: a streamer would say something and your verbal response almost made it feel like they were actually holding a conversation, like they were actually with you right now. These sorts of things were always a coincidence, but when everything in your world was connected by fate, sometimes you let yourself be a little hopeful, let yourself imagine that maybe it wasn’t dumb luck—that maybe it actually meant something.

Hell, maybe it meant you could be soulmates.

Soulmates were a tricky thing to think about, really, even if everyone knew they existed and that one day, they would meet theirs. No one could pinpoint when exactly soulmates came to be, but no one rejected their presence either way. It wasn’t like they wanted to, anyways. To have a person who was perfect for you linked to you by the universe—it was no wonder people were more than pleased to discover they weren’t just some old lover’s tale.

But even then, some were skeptics. How would you really know when you had found your soulmate? What if you missed them by accident? For you at least, you already knew what it would feel like. You couldn’t count just how many times you had asked your mother that very question, but you could practically rattle off her words by heart.

“You’ll know exactly when it happens, I promise, sweetie,” she would murmur, stroking your head with a gentle hum and soft eyes. “When you first touch, it feels like... like you’ve been struck by lightning, and you’ll be tingly all over. Something inside you just sort of clicks when you look at them, and you’ll just—you’ll feel it right here.” She tapped her finger over your heart, a wistful expression settling across her face. “It’s... it’s magical, and you’ll never forget that feeling—not for the rest of your life.”

The smile that would tug on your mother’s lips made you all the more hopeful, a heavy yearning settling deep into the crevices of your heart as the years went by. Even now, as you sat watching Sapnap and George bicker with each other while Dream chimed in with a snarky remark, you felt that same fleeting hope rising up in your chest, warm and soft.

Maybe—just maybe—they might be your soulmates.

Not that they actually were, of course. You knew better than to get your hopes too high.

But as you watched Sapnap’s lean a little closer to his camera and listened to George’s breathy laugh, you felt your heart swell the tiniest bit.

Connected by fate or not, these boys were special to you, even if you had never met.

Sapnap blinked as his eyes darted across his monitor, raising his eyebrows with surprise as he let out a short whistle. “Oh, wow, we’re pulling... holy crap—over seven hundred thousand viewers, right now.” You could vaguely hear the scrolling of his mouse, his lips twitching. “Everyone sounds so excited in chat, too.”

George’s eyebrow quirked. “I mean, of course they are. Manhunts are loads of fun—who wouldn’t want to be a part of them?”

Sapnap’s face split into a teasing grin, and he leaned back in his chair. “Ooh, you sure sound cocky, George.”

George blinked once, then scowled. “Wha—shut up, it’s true! Why else would there be so many people here?”

A devilish gleam flickered across Sapnap’s gaze. “To see your pretty face, maybe.”

George’s frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together into a glower. “Sapnap, you—”

“Look, look,” he cried, wagging his finger at his monitor, “even chat agrees!” His lips curled up into a smirk, mischievous and amused all at once. “You’re not gonna say chat is wrong, are you, Gogy?”

You could have sworn a hint of rose flushed across George’s cheeks as he averted his gaze from his camera, his voice coming out softer than before. “W-Well, I—”

“Boys, boys,” Dream suddenly cut in, George’s words trailing off in an instant. Despite the firmness of his words, there was an amused lilt to his tone, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re both pretty, alright, but can we please move on? I bet everyone’s dying to know who won.”

George opened his mouth, then let out a sigh, shaking his head with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “You know what, Dream’s right. Let’s move on.”

Sapnap snickered on his side of the screen, still grinning widely. “You just can’t handle the truth.”

George groaned, deadpanning into the camera. “We are not starting this, again.”

Sapnap smiled, but didn’t get to speak before Dream cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, sounding a tad more hurried than before, “we’re not, because I’ve got the results, right here.”

You suddenly sat up, your heart stuttering. That same spark of hope fluttered up between your lungs, and you found yourself shuffling your chair forward, squinting in anticipation. Curiosity quivered around the edges of your mind, a certain eagerness pawing at your side as you watched a white pop-up fill the stream.

Everybody had an equal chance of winning—you knew that. That everyone may include you, but it also included every other person who bought one of those shirts. It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren't going to win. After all, not everything was guaranteed like having a soulmate was.

“And,” Dream began, dramatic and slow, “our winner is...”

You squeezed your hands, clasping your palms together with a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

“...shirt number 267815!”

You blinked, your brows furrowing together. That number sounded... oddly familiar. Your eyes flickered down to the shirt in your lap, the white tag peeking back up at you.

It couldn’t be.

All of a sudden, Dream’s voice rang through the air once more, sounding even clearer than ever before.

“Oh, and the name connected to the shirt is... [Y/N]!”

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your eyes shooting wide open as your jaw dropped.

I... won?

You gaped at your screen, only half-registering the sight of Sapnap and George clapping. The chat had become a blur of words you couldn’t bring yourself to read, your vision growing hazy and unfocused with shock. I must look crazy right now, you thought to yourself distantly, rubbing at your face. This can’t be real.

George’s gaze locked directly onto the camera, and for a second, it almost felt like he was speaking directly to you. “Congratulations, [Y/N]!” He wrinkled his nose with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m saying that, right. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

Sapnap chuckled, shooting him a devious grin. “Knowing George, he’s probably wrong.”

Your lips twitched at the frown that flitted across George’s face before Dream took over again. “Ignore them—they’re being dumb.” Before either of them could protest, he quickly added, “Anyways, welcome to Minecraft Manhunt! We’re looking forward to meeting you. We’ll send you an email soon, and you can give us some more info there.”

You nodded at your monitor, your lips still parted in surprise. “We’ll be ending the stream now,” Dream continued, “but thanks so much for everyone else who participated. Your love and support mean the world to us!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and it sent a rush of warmth shooting down your spine. “[Y/N],” he murmured, suddenly sounding soft, “we’ll see you soon.”

As George and Sapnap waved one last time at their cameras with excited grins, you swallowed. Your heart rattled in your chest as the screen faded back to black, and you found yourself sitting face-to-face with your reflection once more.

You were right—you looked just as dumbfounded as you felt.

Slowly, you closed your mouth, lowering your gaze to the shirt in your lap. The axe that was laid out across your thighs somehow seemed brighter than it did before, almost as if someone had painted over it with a newer, shinier layer of white.

Lifting the shirt to your chest, you felt a wide grin tug at your lips—wider than any grin you had ever smiled before.

Maybe you were luckier than you thought.

Your finger hovered over the left button of your mouse, your breaths coming out shaky and short as they pumped through your lungs. The Discord call already had three icons waiting for you, and all you had to do was click to join them.

Breathe, [Y/N]. You’re only about to talk to three of your favourite content creators on the planet. It’ll be easy.

You paused, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not fooling anyone.

A groan rose in the back of your throat, and you hung your head in your hands for a long moment. “C’mon,” you whispered to yourself. “You can’t keep them waiting forever.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, then lifted your head, nodding once, then twice. Yes, okay—calm. I can be calm. Your finger twitched. Let’s do this.

Your hand reached back for your mouse, the cool plastic melding against your skin as your cursor hovered back over the call. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a second, you let your finger press down, a familiar ping echoing through your headphones. There was a beat of silence. Then, someone spoke.

“Hi! Hello!”

You jumped at that sound of Dream’s voice, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly reoriented yourself again. “H-Hi, there,” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]! I’m Dream.” There was a slight pause, then he added hesitantly, “Did I say that right, by the way? Your name, I mean.”

Your lips curled up into a smile, and you felt the tension seep out of your shoulders. “Yes, you got it right.”

You could almost imagine him grinning to himself triumphantly. “Perfect.”

A new voice suddenly jumped in, just as eager as Dream’s. “Don’t steal the spotlight already, Dream,” Sapnap whined, his icon flashing green. “There’s three of us, not just you.” Ignoring Dream’s quiet apology, he quickly moved on. “I’m Sapnap—it’s great to have you here.”

“And I’m George,” another voice added, his prominent accent sounding like honey in your ears.

Every ounce of anxiety you had been feeling earlier felt so far away now, their voices carrying your worries off over the horizon. “It’s nice to meet you all, too. My name’s [Y/N], but you already know who I am, don’t you?”

“Well,” George said, drawing out the vowel, “we may know a few things about you, but we don’t really know who you are—that’s something we want to hear from you.”

Sapnap made a noise of confirmation, his mouth moving at lightning speed as he suddenly began to fire off question after question. “Yeah, like, what’s your favourite flower? Or season? Which one of us do you think is the most handsome? Ooh, what about—”

“Woah, woah,” Dream cut in, wheezing ever so slightly, “one thing at a time, to start. Let them breathe, at least!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the hints of laughter tinting his voice. “It’s okay!” you said, your lips splitting into a crooked grin. “Although I don’t know if I can answer those questions.”

George let out a confused noise. “No? Why not?”

You hummed, swinging your legs around your chair. “Like for my favourite flower, I think they’re all really pretty and look nice, in their own little ways. Same thing for seasons.” You chuckled. “I’m too indecisive to pick just one.”

“But who do you think is the most handsome out of the three of us?” Sapnap prodded, excitement seeping into his tone. “It’s definitely me, right? Come on.”

“Hey,” George suddenly quipped, rushing through his words, “no flirting yet! We only just met!”

There was a brief second of silence. “I mean, isn’t that technically the best time to start flirting?”

“Sapnap.”

“Fine,” Sapnap sighed. You could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Friends first, flirting later.” You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when he added, “Carry on, though. I still want to hear your answer.”

Chewing on your lip, you stiffened, drumming your fingers against the side of your keyboard. “I’m telling you,” you sighed after a long moment, “I really don’t think I can pick. As a matter of fact,” you pointed out, raising a finger. “I don’t even know what one of you looks like.”

Now, it was Dream’s turn to speak up. “Then, talk about attractiveness, in general. It doesn’t just have to be about looks.”

You froze, your posture going rigid. Attractiveness in general…?

How could you possibly encapsulate their attractiveness just like that? Dream was so incredibly clever, and you loved to hear him talk about his passions. George was smarter than he let on, and you could see it in the way he coded their videos, working relentlessly to make them work. Sapnap was beyond affectionate, and just hearing him share his affection with those around him made your stomach melt. They were just handing you a recipe for disaster with a question like this, you knew it.

“This question is impossible,” you blurted, a gentle panic seeping into your tone. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned closer to your mic, adding with a teasing lilt, “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t,” Dream hummed, chuckling at the small whine that escaped your lips. “Either way, it’s cute to hear you struggle.”

Your breath suddenly hitched in your throat, but Sapnap was quick to leap forward. “Hey, what did we say about no flirting?”

Another beat of silence. “Killjoy.”

“Okay, moving on from that,” George said, quickly diverting topics, “how are you feeling, [Y/N]? Are you looking forward to the manhunt?”

You looked back at the call, your eyes locking onto the three Discord icons sitting next to your own. “Yes,” you admitted, “but I’m also very, very nervous.”

“Nervous?” Dream repeated slowly.

“Nervous,” you said again, “but a good kind of nervous.” You opened your mouth, then closed it. “Actually, I think excited is a better word to use. You guys always just seem like you have so much fun when you’re around each other, and I’m just...” You waved your hands in front of yourself, feeling your heart beat faster and faster while your face grew hot once more. “I’m just really excited to film with you all and play Minecraft together.”

Silence washed over the call, and your cheeks felt like they were about to burn right off your face. “Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassedly. “That—that probably sounds really dumb.”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap said suddenly, making your gaze grow wide, “not at all.”

“Yeah,” George added with a joyful hum. “I dunno about those two, but I’m also excited to play with you, [Y/N].”

Dream guffawed, a scoff escaping his lips. “What do you mean you don’t know about us? Of course we’re excited! [Y/N] is great!”

You nearly fell out of your chair. “H-Huh?”

Dream’s voice was suddenly soft again, both parts soothing and cheerful all at once. “We might have only known each other for a little while, but I’m telling you, we’re beyond happy to have you here, and we want you to have a good time, too.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” George said straight-facedly into his mic. “I’d trade you for both of these nerds in a heartbeat.”

Just like that, Sapnap was yelling as you heard Dream smack his desk. “George, what?! How could you say that?”

Giggling, you sank into your desk chair with a relieved smile, pressing a hand over your eager heart. “Thank you,” you murmured, only hoping they could hear the sincerity in your words. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”

Their raucous bickering suddenly died down at the softness in your tone, and three voices spoke at the same time—each one sounding more honest than the last.

“You could never.”

You leaned forward in your desk chair, your eyes glued to your screen as you watched Dream’s avatar stand as still as a rock, frozen and entirely unmoving. Your finger hovered over your W key, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as your tongue darted out to flick over your bottom lip.

Manhunts may be stressful, but you were more than ready to tackle this one headfirst.

It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it. In one moment, Dream was standing in front of you, stock still as you stared him down. In the next, he was darting off in the opposite direction, already a whopping ten blocks away.

Sapnap’s voice shot through your headset like a bullet as he shouted, “After him!”

He didn’t need to say it again before the group was already dashing across the grassy field, boosting each other forward every other block. You clicked frantically at George’s backside, your lips twitching in glee as he shot the slightest bit closer to Dream. With each passing second, they ran further and further, Dream lying just a few steps out of reach. All of a sudden, he leapt off the side of a cliff, vanishing from sight in an instant. Coming to a screeching halt atop the hill, you watched as Bad peered over the forest, Sapnap and George hot on his heels.

“Where’d he go?” George muttered, confusion clouding his voice.

You shifted your mouse left and right as your gaze darted across your screen, scanning every pixel for even the tiniest hint of neon green. Just then, a gasp flew from your lips, and you caught Sapnap jolting in your direction at the sound.

“Look!” you cried, clicking to point over at the greenery. “He’s on the right—on top of the trees!”

Without missing a beat, everyone was leaping off the hill and barreling across the trees, ignoring their fall damage as they jumped over small gaps. “What is he,” George grumbled under his breath, “a monkey?”

You let out a tiny giggle at the genuine annoyance in his tone, but didn’t stop chasing after Dream’s running figure. Suddenly, he just barely missed his jump, bouncing twice on the same leaf block. He had only stalled for a brief second, but that was more than enough time for you to spam click your mouse. In a flash, Dream was tumbling off the tree, with you trailing right after him.

“I hit him off!” you shouted in glee, elation making every one of your syllables soar in your throat. “He’s on the ground.”

“Nice one, [Y/N]!” Sapnap chuckled with delight. “Now, don’t let him get away!”

The praise made the triumphant feeling that had unfurled beneath your ribs spread even farther under your skin, warming you from head to toe. Pushing forward, you nodded and slammed your thumb down on your space bar.

You had no plans of letting him escape.

You pulled your water bottle from your lips with a gasp, quickly screwing the cap back on before setting it down on your desk. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turned back to your monitor, your gaze focused on the anvil a few blocks away. To your left sat the portal, and to your right was a wall of obsidian.

You were four hours into filming now, but you still weren't tired. How could you be, when you were so close to the end?

Clicking on the anvil, you dragged the diamond axe in your inventory into the first slot before reaching for the enchanted book sitting just beside it. Forty-two levels—you would need forty-two levels to enchant your axe with Sharpness IV.

You glanced down at the space above your hotbar and grinned.

Luckily for you, you had forty-three.

Clicking once more, clanging echoed through your ears, and you placed your newly enchanted axe in your hotbar with a proud smile. It was an absolute pain having to kill as many mobs and loot as many desert temples as you did, but for this, it was absolutely worth it. Now, it was time for the rest of the plan.

“I have no idea how you came up with this,” George said earnestly, his character facing yours, “but I love it.”

You grinned, opening up your inventory and removing your amour. “I just got really, really lucky.”

Grabbing an invisibility potion, you suddenly paused, a hint of uneasiness sinking in your gut. If Dream noticed any particles, you would be dead in an instant, and your plan would be blown to smithereens. You would have to move quickly to make it work—almost ridiculously quickly.

Swallowing, you opened your mouth. “Do you guys think we can really pull this thing off?”

Sapnap let out an easygoing chuckle, your shoulders relaxing in an instant. “Oh, I know we can.”

Letting Sapnap’s confidence run through you, you held down your mouse’s right key, downing the invisibility potion in one go before turning to rush out of the portal room. Through your headphones, you heard Dream let out an inquisitive hum, curiosity flickering through his tone. “Just what are you guys up to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Sapnap fired back without missing a beat, his voice swimming with mischief.

While George let out a wheeze and you giggled at Sapnap’s sharp quip, Dream sighed, muttering, “So much for asking.”

Huffing out one last quiet laugh, the smile fell from your face, your eyes narrowing as your expression grew serious. You moved ever so carefully through the stronghold, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine halls like a snake on the hunt. Your gaze darted back and forth between the compass in your hotbar and your screen. With each sharp swing of the compass hand, you held your breath, turning until it was pointed forward again. You had been searching for a few minutes when suddenly, you spotted it.

A glimpse of green.

Dressed head to toe in enchanted iron armour, Dream’s avatar stood in front of a wall of furnaces, smelting away as he turned from one to the next. On the same wall was a crafting table and a chest. He was planning something, you just knew it, but you didn’t have the time to question what. After all, he was facing the wall opposite from you, completely unaware of your presence.

This was the perfect chance, and you weren’t going to waste it worrying.

Creeping forward, you stopped only when you stood just a single block away from him, switching from your empty hand to the enchanted diamond axe in your hotbar. With Sharpness IV, it would only take three critical hits for you to take him down.

For a second, all was still.

Then, you were pressing down on your space bar and clicking your mouse a half second later, watching with bated breath as Dream’s avatar twitched from your attack. One.

He had barely managed to turn around before you had already landed another hit on him. Two.

By the time he had pulled out his own axe and began scanning the seemingly empty air in front of him, you were slamming your finger down one last time. Three.

With a shout, Dream dropped dead before you, his inventory exploding into a mess on the floor at your feet. You blinked once. Twice.

Then, the call burst into a mess of screams and shouts.

Dream’s yell rang through your ears as George and Sapnap hooted in delight, Bad and Antfrost following with their own victory cheers. “What the heck?!” he cried, shock filling his every word. “[Y/N], was that you? Oh my god, where did you even come from?”

Practically gasping for breath, you nearly collapsed on top of your keyboard, the adrenaline slowly wearing off as you smiled triumphantly to yourself. “[Y/N], you did it!” Sapnap shouted, just as loud as before. “You—you just—holy crap!”

“I was so stressed,” you breathed, sagging against the back of your chair with a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You were awesome, so awesome,” George managed between giggles, his own voice sounding giddy and positively overjoyed. “I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks half-felt like they were about to start hurting from how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Dream’s tired laugh filled your ears.

“Congratulations, [Y/N],” he murmured fondly. “You won.”

Just a week and a half later, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you scrolled through the comments section of the new video.

[y/n] was so funny omg

They made this manhunt feel so much more special

Their chemistry as a group was so good wtf!!!??!

please bring [y/n] back I am in LOVE

[Y/N] SUPREMACY

With each new comment you scrolled past, you felt your heart swell more and more in your chest with a mixture of joy and pride. You didn’t expect people to respond so positively to the video—to you.

You had barely made even a dent in the hordes of comments about you when a Discord notification popped up on your laptop screen. In a flash, you were pulling up Discord, quickly clicking on the appropriately named group chat, [Y/N] KILLED DREAM!!

Sapnap: hey

Sapnap: hey did you read the comments

[Y/N]: i did! people were so positive!!

[Y/N]: i wasn’t expecting it

George: You weren’t?

You furrowed your brows, reading George’s question twice before typing once again.

[Y/N]: of course not??? i’m just some person

[Y/N]: you guys are the dream team

George: Don’t put yourself down like that

Sapnap: yeah everyone liked the video because they liked you

Dream: well then

Dream: how do you feel about coming back to film again?

You stared at your screen in awe, something hopeful and weightless rising in the expanse of your chest. Filming another video? With them?

You didn’t even have to think before your fingers were typing out a response.

[Y/N]: i would love to

Peals of laughter tumbled from your lips as you rolled over on your bed, your phone perched beside your head on your pillow. A split second later, a loud whine echoed from your phone speaker, and you found yourself laughing even harder, your lungs gasping harder and harder for breath with each giggle that was pulled from your throat.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you would be here.

It had been nearly a year since the fateful day that brought you and the Dream Team together and a little over ten months since you had first filmed together. Now, three videos and countless streams later, you were closer than ever before, cracking jokes and pushing each other’s buttons like you had known each other their whole lives—maybe even longer than that. It took some prodding, but you even called Dream by his real name, now. As much as you liked the name Dream, Clay sounded much nicer, in your opinion. Texting daily was practically a sacred ritual now, and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t get spammed by their texts at least four times a week. Even now, as you lay on your bed with your phone connected to Discord at your side, you were chatting with them, grinning as wide as ever. It was a comfortably pleasant lull you had fallen into, the four of you—one that you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life sinking into.

It was comfortable indeed, but even as complete as you felt now, you felt like there was something missing—like there was a hollow cavern in your chest just waiting to be filled.

Yet another shout suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, the noise sounding even more astounded than it had before. “How was I supposed to know that that was Russia?”

The sheer amount of shock in George’s voice immediately made you burst into another fit of giggles, throwing your head back. “There was Russian on the sign!” you managed between breaths. “It was so obvious!”

He sputtered at the sound of your laughter, sounding absolutely appalled by your reaction. “You can’t just expect me to be able to read Russian!”

You grinned, your voice dropping the tiniest fraction. “You act as if you don’t know how to say a few things in Russian.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, Sapnap whistled. “Touché, [Y/N]. You’ve got him there.”

While George groaned, surely smacking his palm into his forehead, Clay spoke up with a teasing hum. “You should play some GeoGuessr with us more often. You’re way better at this than George.”

“This is bullying,” came a distant complaint from George, his voice coming out muffled through his mic.

“It’s the truth,” you corrected with a cheeky grin. “You cannot deny that.”

There came a snort, followed by Sapnap’s gentle laugh. “Look at you, [Y/N], being so mean all of a sudden.”

You smiled lopsidedly, trying to push back the shiver that ran down your spine at the way his low voice made your insides melt. “You know you guys love it.”

“We do.” Clay’s voice almost sounded far away, muffled and hazy. “We really, really do.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as a soft silence washed over the four of you, your chuckles dying down and fading into the quietness of your bedroom. Sighing deeply, you picked at your nail, silently begging your heart to calm down again. It was right then when George softly piped up.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he said quietly. When you let out a small noise, he continued. “We… you would call us close to you, right?”

You laughed at the hesitancy in his tone. For a second, he almost sounded shy, and it sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. “Do you even have to ask? We’ve been friends for months—of course we are!”

You could make out the faint sound of shuffling from Clay’s end, his icon flashing green. “Are—” He coughed. “Does that mean we’re close enough to ask you a… somewhat private question?”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone, your curiosity piquing. “Go for it,” you said gently, letting your eyelids flutter comfortably shut.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

In an instant, your eyes shot wide open again, and you lay frozen in your bed. In all the time you had known each other, not once had you brought up the topic of soulmates. It was almost as though you had simply skirted around it, too shy to press on about. But right now, with the topic lying right in front of your face, you couldn’t just avoid the topic.

Your fingers twitched as your mouth fell open. “N-No,” you stammered, the butterflies in your stomach going oddly still. “I, um, I haven’t. Have any of you?”

There was a pause. “No, none of us.”

You thought for a moment, your heart mulling over those four little words. Then, you exhaled and let your shoulders relax against the mattress, your nails curling into your palm. “I’m sure you guys have nothing to worry about,” you murmured almost hazily. “There are probably thousands and thousands of people who would love to be any one of your soulmates.” You chuckled, but it tasted bittersweet on your tongue. “Heck, there’s probably at least half a million fans who would be dying to take my place, right now.”

On the other end of the line, you were met with silence, but it was fleeting. “What about you?” Clay suddenly asked.

You blinked, your palm going slack. “Me?”

“You,” Clay affirmed, sounding more serious than before. “If you were one of our soulmates, how would you feel?”

The words left your lips before you could stop them. “Happy,” you blurted, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, so happy. I—”

You suddenly slapped your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off with wide eyes. Realization struck you like a lightning bolt, and you could feel your blood run cold in your neck. I did not just say that.

“What—” George stopped. Then, a second later, he continued. “Which one of us would you want it to be? To be your soulmate?”

With trembling fingers, you moved your hand away from your mouth, your voice coming out small. “Are you asking me who I like most?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You almost felt your heart drop, bolting upright until you were sitting atop your sheets. Wrapping your hand around your phone, you balanced it on your lap, uncertainty springing up in your gut.

Who... I like most?

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Sapnap, Dream, and George.

To think that just a year ago, you had never spoken to them—had only ever known them as three strangers through a screen. Yet here you were now, their voices soft against your ear and your heart aching at the sound of their laughter. They made you smile beyond belief, and you wouldn’t miss a call with them for the world, even if it was three in the morning and you were dead asleep. Although you had spent time with each of them individually, just as friends did, you loved spending time with all three of them together far more, and you didn’t want to imagine having them any other way.

George, Sapnap, and Dream.

Who did you like most?

You swallowed, then opened your mouth. “I,” you choked out, “I don’t—I wouldn’t—”

You stopped, your heart pounding like a drum between your lungs. You could feel them waiting for you, as patient and caring as ever. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Screwing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath and whispered.

“I don’t think I could ever pick just one of you.”

The silence that filled the air as you closed your mouth was tense. A million unspoken words ricocheted off the insides of your mind, your heart racing within the confines of your chest. The air suddenly felt too hot, and you kicked the covers off your legs, curling your knees closer to your chest and resting your burning cheeks on top of them.

“Maybe this is a sudden thing to say,” Sapnap whispered abruptly, his words coming out slurred as he broke the silence, “but I really, really want to know what you look like right now, [Y/N].”

You felt your arms go limp around your legs. “Me, too,” George added, thoughtful and faint. “I bet you’re beautiful.”

Resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands, you ran your finger along the edge of your phone screen, the glass pressing against your hot skin. “I—um,” you began shakily, “you’ll see when we meet, okay? This way, two of us can stay a mystery.”

Clay’s soft chuckle rippled through your bedroom once more, bouncing off the walls and making your chest ache even more. “Alright.”

You felt your chest constrict with heat, feeling like you were almost about to burst at the seams from the way they were speaking. “W-Well,” you laughed, trying not to sound as panicked as you felt, “on that note, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.” You opened your mouth to continue when a yawn cut you off, eliciting a string of laughs from your phone speaker. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

“Sweet dreams, [Y/N],” George murmured tenderly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed with your heart battering against your ribs. “Goodnight!”

Reaching over, you pressed your thumb over your phone screen, exiting the call just as swiftly as you had joined. That had been hours ago now, and while you were tired, you couldn’t shake the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach—twisting and turning as you laid back on your bed. You slipped your phone onto your nightstand, plugging it in in a forlorn haze before lying back once more. Staring up at the lonesome ceiling, you frowned, your heart suddenly feeling like an anchor in your chest.

Without even an inch of doubt, you knew: you liked them—all three of them.

And it was going to be the end of you.

Having a crush was a dangerous thing in a world full of soulmates, especially if they were online—even more so if you had multiple. You could only ever find out if someone was your soulmate if you met them in person, and you had heard far too many stories of couples meeting in person, only to learn that they weren’t fated to be. Combining that with multiple soulmate bonds slimmed the chances even further. Multiple soulmate bonds weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were rare. You had never met anyone who had one, and you doubted that you would be the first you’d know to have one.

You suddenly felt it—that familiar spark of hope you felt all those months ago when you sat at your desk chair with a shirt on your lap. The hope that drew you to them now was the very same hope that connected you in the first place. Your heart leapt, lapping up every last droplet like a man dying of thirst, yet with each new spark that rained down in your chest, the thought clawing at the back of your mind loomed larger and larger.

Just what exactly were the chances all four of you would be soulmates? It had to be next to nothing if it wasn’t zero already.

This wasn’t like the manhunt raffle—lady luck could only be so generous.

Rolling onto your side, you felt something deep inside you reach its hands up and wrap around your lungs, squeezing as tightly as it could. The ache that shot through your insides stung like a hot coal, but you knew there was nothing you could do to soothe its hungry flames. Unshed tears pricked the back of your eyelids like silver needles, and you squeezed your eyes shut, choking back a muffled whine. Your bedroom suddenly felt too big, your bed too empty.

Hope could be beautiful, but it could also destroy you from the inside out.

“Do not leave the call.”

Clay’s chuckle sent a frown skittering across your face, and you let out a small whine as you leaned forward in your desk chair. “Aww,” he crooned, teasing and light, “are you jealous, Georgie?”

“N-No, what?” George sputtered, and you could almost envision the way his cheeks would flush a pretty shade of baby pink. “Just—just don’t hang up.”

“I’m telling you,” Sapnap laughed with a sly lilt, his voice sounding a little more distant than Clay’s, “he’s jealous.” You vaguely could make out the sound of his signal light from inside his car, a muffled car horn echoing from outside. “Or at least if he isn’t, [Y/N] is.”

At that, you whipped your head up, blinking wide as you shot a glare at Sapnap’s Discord icon on the side of your monitor screen. “Well, [Y/N]?” Clay drawled, a flicker of mischief dancing in his tone. “What do you have to say about that?”

You curled your fingers into your hands, a small pout settling onto your features as heat shot across your face. “I—I am!” you said, your voice coming out a fraction louder than you intended. When the other line went quiet, you shuffled back in your seat, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I am jealous, okay? It’s... it’s just not fair that you two get to meet before we do.”

There was a brief moment of silence. You were being childish, you knew, but at least you were being honest. Suddenly, Clay spoke. “We know, sweetheart,” he said gently, not at all realizing how your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “But you’ll be able to meet us soon. Just wait a bit longer, okay? I’ll buy you both plane tickets if I have to.”

You pouted with a dejected whimper, your finger drawing small circles onto the side of your desk. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so sad,” Sapnap chuckled with a soothing coo. “As soon as we can get you two over here, we will.”

You let out a sigh, swinging your chair from side to side with a frown. Was it so wrong of you to want to meet them so badly, to want to see them and hug them? Part of you didn’t even care if you were all soulmates at this point—you just wanted to hear them laugh in person. You wanted to make them smile. Was that really so much to ask for?

“I see him!” Clay suddenly shouted. Your head shot up faster than a bullet, and you heard the sound of a front door opening and slamming shut. “Oh, Sapnap.”

“Oh, Dream,” Sapnap called mockingly, his smile shining through in his voice. There was the sound of the car engine stopping, then a car door swinging open. “Holy crap, you’re way taller than I expected.”

You chuckled at the surprise in Sapnap’s voice, hearing George laugh along with you. “Jeez,” Clay muttered, his voice overlapping ever so slightly with the mic on Sapnap’s phone. “It’s so weird actually seeing you in person, oh my go—”

All of a sudden, Clay went silent, cutting himself off with a strangled noise of surprise. On Sapnap’s end, there was a muffled choking sound, then nothing. In a flash, you were upright, your eyes wide and your hand flying to your mouse.

“Sapnap?” George called, his tone soaked with worry. “Clay? Are you two alright?”

There came a gasp, and you could make out the sound of Sapnap struggling to search for words. “You’re—Clay’s my—”

Just like that, it clicked, like a switch had been flipped inside you. You felt something in your chest deflate, and you opened your mouth.

“Soulmates,” you whispered so quietly that you would have missed it yourself, had you not been the one to say it. “You two are soulmates, aren’t you?”

George fell silent. “I think so,” Clay mumbled, his tone coming out as if he were in a daze. “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life—it definitely feels like what everyone says, you know? Just, really warm, and.... and...” He trailed off, ending with an enamoured sigh. “Yeah.”

Your mouth felt as though it had been sewn shut, like you wouldn’t have been able to force the words from your lips even if you tried. “How did we not know after all these years?” Sapnap giggled, his voice swimming in a mixture of disbelief and affection.

“We’ve never met in person up until now,” Clay mused, his sentence rising at the end. “This is the first time we’ve ever seen each other, let alone touched.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sapnap murmured back wistfully. The call suddenly went quiet, and a deep, disappointed quiet fell over the four of you. Not a word was said as the harsh reality slowly settled into your hearts.

Clay and Sapnap were soulmates.

Only Clay and Sapnap.

“I’m happy for you two!” George suddenly shouted, startling you in your chair. He sounded oddly chipper—too chipper. “I wish—” He suddenly choked, pausing for a moment to catch his breath again. “I wish I was already friends with my soulmate. Meeting new people is hard.”

“Who knows?” Clay chuckled. His words were teasing, but even they couldn’t mask how crestfallen he sounded. “Maybe [Y/N] is yours.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap hummed in agreement, the hopefulness in his voice sounding just as forced as his soulmate’s. “You hear that, [Y/N]? Maybe you and Gogy were meant to be.”

Your vision was hazy and unfocused, your gaze focused on the window in your room. In the corner of the glass was a small spider web, just barely the size of your palm. You watched with blurry eyes as a fly caught in the sticky web beat its wings in desperation, struggling helplessly as a spider crawled out from behind the windowsill. You distantly wondered how trapped that fly felt—if it knew that there was no point in hoping for anything better, now.

Turning away from the window, you focused your gaze down at yourself, down at the black shirt you were wearing. A clean white axe stared back up at you, and you felt a bittersweet smile stretch across your face as you uttered a single word.

“Maybe.”

A loud beep echoed from the ceiling speakers, and you jumped at the sound. All around you, people were bustling in and out of gates, towing luggage behind them as they rushed down the crowded pathways and between loitering groups of people. You whipped your head this way and that at the sight, your head spinning with all the new sights and sounds.

It was still hard to believe that just a few months prior, you wouldn’t have been able to step foot in an airport like this.

To see people move from one place to the next, seeing loved ones and meeting new people for the first time was almost exhilarating, especially after all that had happened with the world. You liked it, and you certainly hoped that it was here to stay.

You had just started walking down the main path when you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Fishing it out, your face lit up at the caller ID, and you picked up without waiting another second, pressing the cool glass to your ear with a smile. “Hi, George.”

“Hey!” he greeted with a cheerful tone. “Did you get here safely?”

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you curled your fingers a little tighter around the handle of your suitcase with a hum. “Yep.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and it sent a familiar tingle of warmth bouncing down your spine. “How are you feeling?”

You paused, your steps faltering for a brief second as you pondered. “Nervous,” you said after a moment or two, “but a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he repeated with a fond tone. “I think I know the word you’re looking for.”

Your lips curled up at his words, your mind flashing back to a distant day from long, long ago. “Yes, George, I’m excited.”

The laugh that fell from his lips sounded like pure music to your ears, and you caught yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound. “Me, too.” As you wove between a few sectioned off groups, George added gently, “You know where to meet us, right?”

You nodded with a small noise of confirmation, making a sharp turn down yet another long hallway. “Yeah—I’m pretty sure Clay and Sap are already waiting for us.”

George snorted, both affectionate and teasing at once. “Oh, I know they are. I’ll see you there?”

You grinned, bobbing your head along to the beat of your suitcase wheels rolling across the polished tiled floors. “For sure. See you there!”

Lowering your phone from your ear, you pressed your thumb against the screen before letting it drop into your pocket once more. A sigh escaped your lips as you let the ache you had been suppressing tumble loose, throbbing and gnawing away at the shaky shards of your heart.

How long had they known that Clay and Sapnap were soulmates, now? Five months? Six? You weren’t sure if you could even bring yourself to keep count, anymore. It hurt too much to think about. You were happy for them, you really were. But the selfish part inside you still longed for their touch, even if they wouldn’t ever truly be yours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like George, but you meant what you said—you couldn’t pick just one, and you wanted all of them, as greedy as it was.

Shaking your head, you pushed forward, your gaze darting up to the navigational sign hanging from the ceiling. No matter how painful it may be, you weren’t going to let your own heart get in the way of how amazing today was going to be. You were meeting your favourite people in the world today, and nothing was going to take that away from you.

Not even heartbreak.

Glancing briefly over at a map on the wall, you huffed as you dragged your suitcase up a set of stairs and through the corridor, chewing on the inside of your lip. George’s gate was on the opposite side of the airport from yours, and Clay and Sapnap were waiting in the middle for the two of you. His flight had arrived a bit before yours, so you knew you were just going to have to find all three of them together.

After another few minutes of walking, you found yourself walking into the central dome of the airport, the glass ceiling filtering natural light into the room as you wheeled your luggage in. Your lips parting in awe at the sight, you swept your gaze across the busy room, scanning over every head you could find. You had only been looking for a few moments when a head of dark sepia hair caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes, you shuffled forward carefully. Then, your lips split into a triumphant grin.

There they were.

In a heartbeat, you felt your insides melt at the sight. Sapnap and George looked as handsome as ever, their lips curled up into dazzling smiles as they spoke, and Clay—oh, Clay. This was the first time you would ever be seeing each other’s faces, but you didn’t have to see him to know that he was pretty. With tousled golden locks and emerald green eyes that flashed like gemstones, he was everything you could have asked for and more.

Chatting casually with one another, all three of them were dressed in comfortable clothes, and you wanted to fling yourself at them and bury yourself into their warm touch. Sucking in a deep breath, you marched toward them, slinking around so that you were facing their backs. Hugs could come later—right now, it was time for a surprise.

Treading slowly and carefully, you only stopped when you stood a foot behind them, the giddiness rising in your chest as you finally opened your mouth.

“Sapnap was right. You are tall.”

The three of them immediately whirled at the sound of your voice, their eyes as wide as saucers as their gazes locked on yours. The grin on your face only grew wider as you watched their faces light up in unison, like a set of stars coming together in the night sky.

“[Y/N],” they said at the same time, blinking wildly as you sent them a small wave.

You laughed. “Here I a—”

“We were right, too,” Clay suddenly blurted, bending over slightly. “You are beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed with bubbling heat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. “I—ah, um,” you stammered, taking a step back. “You look good too, Clay.”

Sapnap took a step forward, reaching his hand out toward you with a soft smile. “So, we finally meet,” he hummed, a brilliant gleam flashing across his eye. “Does this mean I get to hug you, now?”

You grinned, and with a giggle, you were leaping forward, your suitcase wobbling behind you as you let go. The moment you felt warm arms wrap around your backside, you felt yourself relax.

Then, your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Warmth surged up your spine like a rippling flame, your eyes shooting wide open as you gasped, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. In an instant, you were stumbling back, clutching at the space over your heart. You could feel it going absolutely haywire in your chest, pounding like never before. Your entire body felt as light as a feather, and your mind felt strangely hazy.

Impossible—it had to be.

“Sap,” you choked out, your eyes locking onto his own wide ones, “you—”

“George, Clay,” he suddenly said, reaching a hand out toward the two boys, “get over here. Right now.”

The two of them had been standing stock still just a few steps away, their jaws dropped and faces contorted with surprise as they watched you and Sapnap tremble across from one another. Swallowing, George took the first shaky step forward, reaching his hand toward yours. The moment your fingers brushed, the same tingling warmth crashed over you like a wave, and you let out a soft noise, happiness blooming in your throat like a blossom in spring. You watched with earnest eyes as George’s expression mirrored yours, his rosy lips parted in surprise as his fingers latched onto yours. The hope you had locked away months ago came pouring out of your glowing heart like a waterfall, overwhelming every inch of your senses.

“It’s not just us,” you whispered, your voice brimming with nebulous hope. “It’s George, too.”

George lifted his head, his breath hitched as he turned. “That just means...”

All three of your gazes landed on Clay, who was still frozen in place, stock still with shock. Your eyes darted to Sapnap’s, then George’s. You nodded in unison, and without saying a word, you stepped forward. You slipped your hand into Sapnap’s, your heart trembling with adoration at how big and warm his palm was against your own. Sharing one last glance with one another, you nodded. Just like that, you were slipping your hand into Clay’s, George following suit while Sapnap grabbed his.

In a heartbeat, everything felt perfect.

The empty cracks in your heart no longer felt as wide as they once did, instead flooding with burning warmth and something that felt like love. Your head spun with dizzying affection, and you felt your vision grow watery, but for an entirely different reason, now.

God, you loved them, you loved them, you loved them.

At your side, Sapnap’s hand shook in yours, surprise lacing his every word. “I can’t believe it.”

“A four-way soulmate bond,” George breathed, his own mouth twitching up into a lovestruck grin. “I—I never thought we’d have one. I mean, I always hoped but—”

Suddenly, Clay spoke up, his voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “W-Woah, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

In a flash, their eyes were on you, who had let go of Clay’s hand to press your palm against your eye. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” you said, your voice shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I’m just—I’m so happy.” A quiet sniffle bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “I liked you all so much and I was so scared that only George was going to be my soulmate, because you’re all so important to me, and I couldn’t just give you guys up like that.”

“[Y/N],” Clay choked out, his own voice starting to wobble, “stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”

Laughing, you leaned against him, soaking into the warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you. “Just—just cry with me, okay? We can all cry together.”

You didn’t need to say it twice. Not even a split second later, and you felt two more pairs of arms snake up around you, a nose burying itself into your hair as a cheek pressed against yours. “It looks like you won more than just one lottery then, huh?” Sapnap mumbled from above you, his chest rumbling against your back.

“Yeah,” George chuckled, his fingers lovingly rubbing small circles against your arm. “First the manhunt, now this. Just how lucky can one person be?”

You smiled, rubbing your head against Clay’s shoulder with a loving hum. “I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as you gently rocked back and forth together, “but I’m glad I won. You three are the best prize I could have ever asked for.”

You felt a pair of lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, your heart sighing in your chest. “I love you,” someone whispered, too softly for you to tell who it was.

All around you, the bustling airport kept moving, full of life and bursting with energy as the crowds flowed around you like a river. The world was still moving, the planet still turning beneath your feet as you embraced one another, warm and safe in each other’s arms. But in that moment, none of that mattered. A dazzling spark danced along the crevice of your heart, bright and warm and oh-so full of hope as you opened your mouth to whisper back.

“I love you all, too.”

2K notes · View notes

v-hope · 4 years ago

Text

With You

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, College!AU, established relationship

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Although trying to fight it, Jeongguk can’t help but become insecure about your relationship after your ex best friend starts filling his head with lies about you and Taehyung, his best friend who you just so happened to be out with that day. Good thing is, you’re right there with him to reassure him you want him and only him.

—Alternatively, the one in which during a heated make out session you find out your boyfriend is a virgin, and decide to help him get himself off.

Warnings: Heavy making out, light body touching (?), dry humping, confident Guk and shy/awkward Guk keep switching places, handjob, blowjob. And yup, Guk’s (still) a virgin.

A/N: Helloo, this from part 28 of my Social Media AU ‘Tiger Flower’, but I guess you can still read it if you haven’t read the full story lol. So this was supposed to be a 2k drabble like the ones I always write but I got a bit carried away 🤡 I hope you enjoy! 💕 ALSO, someone asked me to bold the beginning and ending of the smut part(s), so if you don’t wanna read the smut just look for the bolded words and skip what’s in between lol.

Running his hands through his face as the elevator’s doors opened, Jeongguk started walking through the hallway to his place, head lowered as he absently looked in his pocket for the keys to the apartment.

The conversation he had with Sooyeon was still going through his mind over and over. Although he had managed to sound confident enough through the texts they had exchanged and he had put her in her place —along with blocking her ass just like he had wanted to ever since the first time she brought you up into the conversation—, he could not deny her words did hit home.

Taehyung was definition of your type. Outgoing, talkative, funny, handsome. The life of the party, in other words. Something he was not, and something he would never be, considering he did not show up to parties at all if it wasn’t because he was either forced to by his friends or because you would be there.

Taehyung could most definitely show you a good time, whereas he, on the other hand…

No, fuck that. You were dating him. He was your boyfriend. He, Jeon Jeongguk. That was all he could find comfort in.

Then again, you were not with him right then. You were somewhere else with Taehyung. As friends, but still. And then again, just like he had a high school crush on you and found himself falling all over again three years into college, so had you with Taehyung right before dating him. Would it really be that hard for you to fall for him a third time when the two of you were still so close?

He shook his head, as if trying to shake his thoughts away. Don’t let Sooyeon get to you, Y/N’s with you for a reason. Don’t let Sooyeon get t—

“Hey…”

Before his head could keep on torturing him, your voice brought him back out of his small trance, fixing his wide doe eyes on you for two seconds before he took in his surroundings, only then realising he had already reached his apartment’s door.

Staring back at you, his eyes lit up.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What… What are you doing here?”

You shifted nervously in your place. “You sounded kinda off through texts, so I just wanted to check up on you”.

He nodded quietly, fighting the huge smile that was threatening with forming on his lips.

Because you were there. With him.

“You didn’t, um…” his eyes travelled to the door for a second before they were back on you. “Joon-ie hyung didn’t open the door for you?”

A small laugh escaped your lips at the way his eyebrows had furrowed, ready to fight his roommate for leaving you waiting out there for God knows how long. “I didn’t call on the door” you explained, causing his eyebrows to knit further together in utter confusion. “I didn’t know if you wanted me here at all, so I thought I’d just wait outside in case you wanted to be alone and asked me to g—”

Your words were cut off by a sweet kiss being pressed to your lips. Although taken aback the first second, you smiled when he cupped your face to press his mouth deeper against yours.

“What was that for?” you smiled once he pulled away, eyes still closed as you felt his nose gently bumping yours.

“I’m just happy you’re here” he breathed contently.

“That’s good to hear” you sheepishly admitted, resting your hands on his chest. “I honestly thought you would ask me to leave”.

He shook his head no, pecking your lips before he pulled you into his arms. “Don’t be silly, you know I always want to be with you”.

You took in a shaky breath, feeling all the tension you had been building up until then leave your body for good, and then wrapping your arms tightly around him as well. “Yeah, but you sounde—”

“Shh,” he hushed you, pressing a brief kiss to your neck. “I want you here”.

You let out another laugh, not only because of how happy his words made you, but because of the way he later grabbed your face once again to start peppering kisses all over it.

“Yah, Jeon Jeongguk!” you called him out in between giggles. “We’re in the middle of the hallway”.

He laughed, pecking your lips one last time before he pulled away. You just didn’t know how much it meant to him having you there with him right then when he needed you the most.

Without another word, he took his keys out of his pocket, like he had intended to minutes ago, and finally opened the door.

Stopping in his tracks, he turned around to look at you with a raised brow. “You’re coming in, right?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, since you ask so nicely…”

Rolling his eyes at your overdramatic ways, he grabbed your hand, pulling you inside his place with him, not giving you time to even take a look around as he dragged you into his room.

“I don’t even get to say hi to Joon?” you teased as you closed the door behind you and he went to lie down on his bed.

“You can go say hi if you want” he replied simply, resting his weight on his elbows so he could properly look at you.

“Nah,” you shrugged, watching his nose scrunch up as his lips parted into a big smile when you started walking towards him. “I came to see you after all”.

“That you did” he contently affirmed, that being all he needed to let go of his intrusive thoughts.

Letting his back fall on the bed once again, he stretched his arm out on the mattress for you to go over there. Without another word, you crawled in bed with him, resting your head on his arm just like he wanted you to, scooting closer to him when his hand rested on your shoulder, and then resting yours on his chest.

“So how was work?” you tried to initiate small talk, tenderly running your fingers in circular motions from his chest to his abdomen.

The sigh that had escaped his mouth let you know not so well.

Work itself had been alright . What happened afterwards when he was heading home and Sooyeon texted him? Yeah, that had been shitty as hell.

“I blocked Sooyeon” he let you know.

Your head snapped up. “Hadn’t you already done that?”

“From Instagram, yeah” he nodded. “I blocked her phone number now. It can be a little awkward tomorrow when I see her but it’s the last day of filming, so I couldn’t care less”.

Although wanting to laugh —because, let’s be honest, that new piece of information could only bring you joy—, you ended up pouting in confusion.

“Something happened?”

“The usual,” he took in a deep breath. “She was talking shit”.

You nodded understandingly. Although wanting to know the details, you understood he didn’t really want to talk about it, for otherwise he would’ve told you by then. So, you said nothing, settling for pressing a lingering kiss to his shoulder instead.

“Is that why you were upset?” you wondered.

Jeongguk stayed quiet, both in awe at how you could tell he wasn’t feeling his best just by a couple of texts, and once again upset at the conversation he had held with Sooyeon earlier that evening.

“Kinda” he tried to shrug it off.

You puckered your lips, stopping your soothing motions on his torso and resting your palm on it instead so you could support your body up as you looked for his chocolate eyes.

“Was it because I went out with Tae?”

The way his body had tensed was all the answer you needed. However, he surprised you by shaking his head no.

“It wasn’t… I mean,” he sighed, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You guys are friends, it’s okay”.

You stared at him intently. Maybe he claimed it didn’t bother him, but his eyes right then, which remained fixed on the ceiling instead of your concerned ones, told you otherwise.

Placing your hand on his arm and giving it a light squeeze, you leaned in to briefly press your lips to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” your sincere words managed to catch his attention. “I should’ve asked if you were okay with it”.

He shook his head no immediately, sitting up and resting his back on the headboard. “You don’t need to ask for my permission to meet up with people, petal”.

“I know, but,” you shrugged, sitting up as well by his side and focusing your eyes somewhere other than his. “Everything is still kind of recent, I should’ve been more considerate of your feelings. I’m just so used to hanging out with mostly guys that I forget I have a boyfriend now and you—”

You caught on the way he had —teasingly— raised up a questioning eyebrow, making you mentally go over the words you had just said and panic once you realised how wrongly you had worded them.

“Wait, no!” you tried to correct yourself immediately, as he could no longer hold his serious semblance and started laughing. “I don’t forget I have a boyfriend, I meant that I forget you might not be very fond of—yah!” you called him out when his laugh did no longer allow your words to be heard.

“I know what you meant, petal” he reassured you, grabbing your hand and gently running his thumb on the back of it. “You look so cute when you panic”.

“Aish, you’re so annoying” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Chuckling at your cute annoyance, he took advantage of your folded arms to pull you towards him by them, having you instinctively straddle his lap after his lips collided with yours.

“You’re really okay with it then?” you asked one last time, cupping his face as he opened his eyes; watching the way they smiled right before he nodded.

He trusted you. Both you and Taehyung. He really did.

He knew the two of you were just friends. After all, he had told Taehyung it was okay for him to hang out with you from time to time back when they had The Talk. And he was truly okay with it. It was just that he couldn’t help being insecure sometimes, and Sooyeon’s words had only managed to increase that feeling.

He needed some reassurance from you, that was all.

“Just…” he licked his lips as he tried to find the right words. “You want to be with me… right?”

You answered his question with a slow, lingering kiss. One that left him aching for more, lips slightly puckered when yours left their touch. “I’m with you for a reason, bun” you cooed. “I mean, I am your girlfriend after all, am I not?”

He smiled blissfully, still feeling a wave of heat run up his body whenever that word was mentioned in reference to you, as he was not quite used to it yet. “Don’t go forgetting I’m your boyfriend then”.

Just as a light laugh escaped your mouth at his mocking remark, he entangled his fingers in the hair at the back of your head to pull you back into his lips, resting one of his hands on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck the way he loved it, slightly opening your mouth to give him easier access to it.

And maybe it was the loose fabric of the oversized hoodie of his you had kept and were wearing that day, that made it so easy for his hands reach for your naked body underneath, or maybe it was just the way he had been craving you for so long, what made him dig his hands inside of it without a second thought — fingertips hesitantly tracing your skin and thumbs drawing circles on your waist for a couple of seconds before they trailed all the way up to the hem of your bra, where they stopped in their tracks and travelled to your back instead, as he didn’t want to overstep any more boundaries than he already thought he had.

Earning a small protesting whine from him when your mouth let go of his, you surprised him by digging your own hands under your hoodie and grabbing his wrists, causing a shaky break to abandon his mouth when you placed his hands on your breasts, just like that, giving him the last little push he needed to do what he was dying to.

“You can touch me all you want” you managed to say a little out of breath, not having time to feel shy at your own words under his piercing stare before his mouth was once more smashing on yours.

Enjoying the spoken consent you had just given him, he wasted no time in cupping your breasts, smiling in between your kisses at the way they felt so perfect in his hands — imagining how much softer they would feel without the lacy fabric in the way.

Letting go of one of them, he placed his hand on your bare back to pull you closer against his chest, giving the one still in his hold a firm squeeze that had you moaning against his lips.

And right then, he felt something he had not quite felt before. It was the way he felt his blood boil and the way he wanted more. He wanted to hear more of that melodic sound. He wanted more of you.

Only, the next second, it was you the one making a raspy moan come out of his mouth, when you grinded against his lap, providing him the friction he didn’t know he needed so bad.

Removing one of his hands from underneath your hoodie, he cupped one of your cheeks to keep you steady as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, tongue tracing its outline so you would open up. Doing as he wanted, you felt his tongue pleasantly massage yours, deciding right then you also wanted to feel his bare skin against your fingertips, not letting any other second go by before your hands were already making their way inside his black sweatshirt, feeling goosebumps form on his skin as your faint touch inevitably tickled his abdomen.

Letting go of his mouth, you planted a kiss to his jaw before making your way down to his neck, getting a gasp out of his mouth when you started sucking at the sensitive skin.

With the intention of keeping you still on his lap as your hungry lips worked on his neck, he placed both of his hands on your hips — momentarily forgetting about his own strength and ending up pulling you down roughly enough for you to unintentionally rub once more against his already hardening member.

“Fuck” he rasped, feeling you smile agains his neck before you rolled your hips one more time just to get another moan out of him.

Not letting go of your hips, if anything grabbing them tighter, he turned both of you around so he could be in control now. With your head hitting the soft pillow, and still taken aback by his sudden actions, you allowed his needy lips to attack yours once more for a while before they peppered small kisses all their way down to your neck.

“Jeongguk” you moaned when he thrusted his hips against your center.

He smiled, loving the tone his name had just came out with from your pretty lips. Wanting more of it, he did it again, going back to your mouth right in time to muffle the moan that had just escaped your mouth, as you could not be anything other than grateful at the fact he had decided to wear a pair of dark joggers that particular day, allowing you to feel his stiff member with little to no restraints.

With one hand holding onto your hip and his other one making its way back inside your hoodie and up to your breasts, he cupped one of them — his thumb giving attention to your nipple by making circular motions over the thin fabric of your bra and having you bite your bottom lip to hold back a moan.

Losing yourself into his pleasant touch, you rested your hands over his back, wrapping your legs tight around his waist, pulling his hips once more into your center. A satisfied smile curved up your lips at the way he had to let go of your mouth and buried his face in the crook of your neck to muffle the quite loud moan that had just escaped his lips — thrusting into you one more time just as you rolled your hips up to meet him there.

Breathing heavily at the ongoing friction, you let your hands travel down to the waistband of his joggers so you could pull them down and feel him up.

And although for just a second, you felt his lips abandon the spot they had been teasing on your neck — an almost inaudible gasp escaping his mouth as his body tensed up.

That was all you needed to stop.

“What happened?” you worried.

“Nothing” he was quick to try and brush it off, going back to pepper wet kisses to your neck.

“No, Guk” you lightly pushed him off you, cupping his face in your hands so he had no choice but to look at you. “If you don’t want t—”

“I want to” he stated before you could even finish your sentence.

Fuck, he wanted to.

“Then?”

Jeongguk sighed in defeat, managing to break free from your hold and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. “It’s embarrassing…”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not understanding where he was trying to go with this at all. “You can trust me”.

He took in a deep breath. He knew he could trust you. He knew you would never make fun of him for such a thing. However, to him, his lack of experience, especially since you did have some of it, could only be something he felt insecure about.

“Bun…” you tried to reassure him, wrapping your arms around him and planting kiss after kiss to the side of his head.

“I’ve never…” his voice came out muffled as he spoke against your shoulder, making it harder for you to hear.

“What?”

“I’ve never had...” he spoke louder this time. “You know…”

He found delusional how hard it was for him to admit it. He had never really minded, to be honest. Whenever his friends teased him because of it he would just brush it off. It wasn’t that he was not interested in having sex, he was a young man with many needs after all. And it wasn’t that he didn’t feel ready either —or well, that until that evening, because it was fair to say he was freaking out now that it was you the one he was about to be with—. It was just that no one had ever caught his attention the way you had. There was never someone he felt the need to have this kind of intimacy with, until you.

That’s why, unlike with his friends, he did mind when it came to you. It was hard for him to admit it to you because, although he knew you’d understand, you could always be disappointed at his lack of experience, and it was precisely not being good enough for you what worried him the most, what had made him hesitate before.

“You’ve never… had sex?” you softly finished for him.

He nodded shamefully, and for a good couple of seconds you couldn’t believe him. Yes, he had told you once he had never been on a date, but dates are different than sex. For starters, you didn’t need to really talk during sex, which was what you knew troubled him the most about dates and just meeting people in general. Besides, with a guy as handsome as Jeongguk, you had been positive he must’ve been with someone at least once.

However, opposite to the disappointed reaction he thought you would have, he found himself relaxing under your touch when you pressed a kiss to his head.

“Gotta say I can’t believe and am kinda disappointed that no one ever tried to jump your bones before” your bold words had him laughing in a second, pinching one of your sides to call you out on them. “Seriously, bun. I mean, look at you!”

“Shut up” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment.

You chuckled, gently shoving his face with your shoulder to let him know you wanted him to look at you, making him feel at ease just by seeing the smile on your lips once he did as told. “It’s okay”.

“It is?” his voice came out uncertain.

You nodded, cupping his face. “Of course it is. I’ll wait for as long as you want me to”.

“But I want to” he pointed out embarrassingly fast, earning a light laugh from you.

“Then I’ll just wait until the moment’s right and you feel like going through with it without hesitating” you kissed his pink lips briefly — as if on cue, your heads snapping to the next room after hearing Namjoon drop something and cursing at it. “And until we’re alone and won’t risk being heard by our roommates, maybe”.

Jeongguk laughed at your last addition, leaning in to peck your lips three times. “I like the sound of that” he smiled, only for it to be erased when his eyes instinctively went down to the problem he had just been left with inside his pants. “I should probably, um…”

Your eyes followed his as they glanced down to his still hardened length. You had been too caught up on kissing him before to pay attention to it. But now, watching the outline of his erection poking through his sweatpants, you found yourself wanting more of him all over again.

“I can help you with that if you want” you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, having his attentive eyes lock with yours in a second. “We don’t need to have sex for that”.

Jeongguk licked his lips, deep in thought over something he already knew the answer to. “Don’t feel like you have to...”

“I want to” you stated.

Simple as that, he found himself nodding — your determined eyes being the last push he needed to let go of the shyness he had suddenly been filled with and just give in to what he wanted, to what he needed.

With a smile curving up your lips, you gently stole a kiss from his mouth, sweetly pecking it a couple of times before you finally sucked on his bottom lip — a muffled moan coming out of his mouth when you gave it a teasing bite right as your hand palmed him over his pants.

“You have to be quiet” you reminded him with a light laugh. And for a second there you were kinda glad it wasn’t you the one on the receiving side, for you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep it down either at all.

Not being able to say anything in reply, he just nodded — a pretty eager nod that seemed more like one to move on from the topic already than one of agreement. Nevertheless, you had no intentions of stopping, (un)luckily for him.

Pressing another kiss to his swollen lips, you fidgeted with the waistband of his joggers just like you had intended to before. This time, he didn’t tense up, and you took that as your green light before you dug your hand in them.

“M—Fuck” he mewled when you took a hold of his cock, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you guided it out of his clothes.

Letting go of it for a second, you helped him on his back so you could sit up into a more comfortable position before wrapping your hand around it again, and right then you could’ve sworn you would never get tired of the pretty sounds that escaped his lips every time you touched him.

Gently, as you were just then discovering what it was he enjoyed the most, you started giving him a few pumps, trying to find the right pace for him and his needs.

“Baby, fuck” he breathed out, leaning his head deeper againt the pillow as he looked for some kind of support.

And it was the way he faintly thrusted his hips up into your hand, what let you know he was craving more. Not having to think twice, you sped up the pace of the way your hand moved up and down his length, tightening your hold on it just a little bit more.

“Mm… Just like that,” he let you know softly, as if suddenly remembering about the whole being-quiet-thing. “Just like that”.

“Feels good?” you wondered, enjoying the view of his furrowed eyebrows and closed eyes as he gave in to your touch.

“So good” he agreed.

Licking your lips, you stared down at his hard cock in your hand, giving it one last pump before your thumb slowly spread his precum over its tip.

“You alright with just my hand?” you asked and he was nodding before you could finish the question, which made you wonder if he had even heard it at all or was immersed enough in his own pleasure to agree to anything. “Or would you enjoy my mouth being wrapped around you better?”

His eyes opened as soon as the word ‘mouth’ was on the table, studying your face for a couple of seconds to make sure you were not playing with him in his vulnerable state. At the sight of your lustful eyes on him, however, he knew you were indeed very serious. And he’d be damned if he ever turned down such an offer.

“I want your mouth” although determined, his voice came out shakily.

Nevertheless, you were willing to comply with his wishes.

Jeongguk was on the edge of losing it when he saw you smile and make your hair out of the way right before you leaned down, removing your thumb from the tip of his cock so you could replace it with your tongue instead — a hiss escaping his mouth when you licked the traces of the precum you had just spreaded over it.

Giving him two small pumps, you allowed yourself to take him in your mouth; far from being able to take his entire length, yet enough for his body to tremble out of utter pleasure.

“Y/N…” he whimpered, fingers entangling in your hair as he desperately tried to control the overwhelming pleasure your wet mouth and tight lips wrapped around his cock were giving him.

Not once had he ever felt this good before, both your hand and mouth taking him places his hand alone could’ve never taken him to. And he was afraid he would come in your mouth anytime by then.

Pulling it out of your mouth, you threw him a small glance before you carried on — your tongue tracing all the way from the base to the tip, hearing him moan when you took him in your mouth a second time.

“Fuck, baby, you—ah,” he moaned when you swirled your tongue over his tip. “You feel so good”.

Enjoying way too much being the reason behind how good he was feeling, you decided to do him a favour and push him closer to his release for once and for all.

Slightly tightening your hold on him, you started once again moving your hand up and down his length, switching between the ministrations both your hand and mouth were applying on it, and knowing you were driving him over the edge when his hold on your hair tightened and his body trembled ever so slightly.

“Y/N…” he panted. “F-Fuck, I’m—”

His words were cut off by the heavy breath he had to take when you gave him one last particular pump, trying his best to hold on. Noticing that, you gave one of his thighs a squeeze to let him know it was okay for him to let go. And he was so desperate to reach his high right then, that your small gesture alone was all he needed to do so.

Closing his eyes, he found himself having to cover his mouth with his arm not to be too loud when his orgasm hit, feeling his warm release spreading into your mouth. Moving his hand up to cover his eyes as he came down from his high, letting himself get lost in the aftershocks of it, he missed the way you tasted his release in your mouth.

Cleaning the small stains of it left on the tip of his member, you adjusted it back inside his pants and went to lie down next to him, smiling adoringly at the way his chest moved up and down as he tried to catch his breath and tenderly removing his arm from his face, having his eyes find yours in a second.

“Was that okay?” you asked, softly removing a few strands of hair that had gotten stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead.

Jeongguk smiled incredulously, gently running his fingers through your hair to try and fix the mess he had made on it. “You even have to ask?”

And somehow that was all you needed to hear for the heat to reach your face, suddenly feeling shy at what you had just done.

Catching up on that, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a couple of kisses to your cheek before moving them to your mouth, where they remained for a little longer.

“You’re amazing” he said truthfully — the way he had said it, letting you know he did not just mean it when it came to sucking him off.

You smiled wholeheartedly. “Yah, don’t” your eyes focused somewhere else, feeling your face burn.

Jeongguk smiled sweetly, managing to draw your attention back to him by ever so tenderly caressing your cheek. Fuck, he loved you. And right then, with your eyes looking at him in a way he thought they had never when you were just friends, although unspoken, delusional even, he really felt like maybe you felt the same, too.

Tilting your face up just enough, he connected his lips with yours for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. “I’ll be good to you, too”.

You chuckled, loving the idea of it and kissing him briefly to let him know you did. You knew he would.

“When we’re alone, though. I won’t have Joon hear from me what he probably just heard from you”.

Jeongguk laughed, deciding to say nothing and instead pull you tightly into his chest and rest his chin on your head. And although he knew he might never hear the end of it from his friends, for once, he did not care what the rest had to either think or say.

6K notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years ago

Note

Hey bb! First of all, let me just tell u how much I love your writing! You're fabulous, love. Don't ever doubt yourself. Secondly, I wanted to know if u could do a college professor! Jungkook and pretty student reader where Jk is absolutely enamoured by her.. (also, with a bit of the good ol smut🤭) It's a-okay if u can't tho! Just know that you're appreciated!❤️

the probability of us

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 6k

glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories.

notes: there’s something so warm about this request that it made me write it as an actual fic and not a bullet one!!! i did alter it a little bit but i was genuinely so happy writing this so thank you sO much for this babe :D // gif from pinterest!

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university.

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class.

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him.

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk.

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?”

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn’t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?”

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.”

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?”

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.”

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways.

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either.

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly.

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed.

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are.

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head.

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.”

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I wanna be with you.”

#fEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U :D #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic rec #jungkook fic recs #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fluff imagine

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helloalycia · 4 years ago

Text

teenage dirtbag [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: Wanda's boyfriend continues to be an aggravation in your life, causing some distance between you and Wanda

warning/s: none

author's note: i really appreciate the feedback you guys gave in the last part – it’s always motivating to read your reactions/comments 🥰

Sorting things out with Wanda made everything return to normal in no time. So much in fact that she decided I was worth inviting to her and her brother's birthday party.

Never in a million years did I expect the most popular girl in our grade to know who I was, let alone invite me to her birthday party, so to say I was surprised was an understatement.

"It's not a big deal if you can't make it," she said when she handed me the invitation in class. "I mean, I'd love it if you could, but yeah, no pressure."

I was in awe, accepting the invite and reading it quickly. It must have been a pretty expensive party if she was giving out special invites, that's for sure.

"You want me to come?" I asked, still unsure whether this was a joke or not.

"Only if you want to," she said quickly, eyes darting around the room and anywhere but at me. "Like I said, you don't have to. It's not a big deal and– I– yeah." She pressed her lips together and stopped rambling, offering me a small smile.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slotting the invite in my notebook. "I'll, er, I'll think about it."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and faced forward, nodding. "Yeah, sure, no rush."

After that awkward conversation, I discovered she'd also invited Y/BF/N, the two of them developing a little friendship the more she'd hung out with me. He didn't mind going, but only wanted to do so if I went.

"I feel like I kinda don't wanna go," I admitted to him after school as we were studying in the library.

"Oh?" He rose an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

I played with the pencil in my hand. "I don't know, it's just– it's gonna be full of all of her other friends. And they don't really like me. Plus, her dick of a boyfriend is gonna be there. I just think she might have invited me to be nice. Like she might have felt like she had to because we sit together, y'know?"

"I think you know that isn't true," he said knowingly. "Maybe, just maybe, she actually wants us there, wants you there, to celebrate her birthday."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, giving it some thought. But the idea of going to Wanda's house party and seeing a bunch of people I didn't care about getting pissed wasn't comforting. Besides, even if I went, I'd probably see Wanda once before she'd get scooped away by Nate. What was the point?

"Nah, I don't think I'm going," I decided. "She won't notice. I'll just get her a present instead."

Y/BF/N sighed, clearly not impressed with my answer. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay, suit yourself."

"You can go if you want," I added, knowing his presence wasn't linked with mine.

"No Y/N, no party," he said with a dismissive shrug, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Such a good friend," I said teasingly, but there was truth to my words. And I knew he knew that.

When I saw photos and videos of Wanda and Pietro's party all over my social media the day after, I knew I'd made the right choice in not going. It was the same visuals of everyone getting drunk, doing stupid shit and making a mess. Call me a loser, but that wasn't really my scene. Pietro and Wanda both seemed to enjoy it though, judging from the pictures.

Instead, I bought her a birthday present, knowing I didn't have to but I kind of wanted to, and planned to give it to her when she turned up to class. It was her birthday today, despite throwing the party over the weekend, so I hoped it would make up for my absence (thought I doubted she noticed).

She showed up and settled beside me as I was writing the date in my notebook, making me look up to see she'd made an extra effort to dress up for her birthday, looking fancier than usual. I couldn't help but smile at the giant '18' birthday badge pinned to her jacket.

"Happy birthday, Wanda," was the first thing I said when I saw her. "You look amazing."

A bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you, Y/N."

"I hope your party went well," I said, giving her my full attention whilst trying not to drool over how beautiful she looked.

Surprisingly, her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, it did... could you not make it? I tried looking for you and– yeah..."

I opened my mouth to speak, admittedly a little embarrassed that she'd caught me out. I was sure she wouldn't notice – the pictures made it seem like there were loads of guests, I'd definitely have blended in if I were there – but clearly I was mistaken.

"I just thought–" she began, before shaking her head. "Never mind."

"Sorry, I thought–" I started, but like her, didn't know what to say. "Parties aren't my thing," I admitted truthfully. "But it looked fun. You enjoyed it, right?"

She nodded, a small forced smile on her lips. "Yeah, right. It's cool. No biggie."

I swallowed awkwardly. It seemed like a biggie and now I felt bad.

"I, er, got you a gift," I blurted, hoping to change the subject. Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out the terribly wrapped present and held it out nervously. "I hope you, er, like it."

Her eyebrows raised as her eyes flickered between the present and I. "Oh? You didn't have to. I wasn't expecting anything."

Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I pulled my collar away from my neck, hoping to circulate some air. "I wanted to. It's not a big deal."

She accepted the gift, fingers brushing mine and making me even more nervous, before opening it up. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she revealed a brand new leather paintbrush carry case.

"The one you always carry around is tattered and falling apart, so I thought I'd get you a new one," I explained, feeling like I had to. "I mean, unless the other one has some sort of sentimental value, then in that case, I can just return this."

"Are you kidding? I love it!" she exclaimed, looking to me with a grin. "It's beautiful, Y/N. I don't even know what else to say."

My shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile tugging at my lips. "Good. Th-that's good. I'm glad you like it."

Without warning, she moved forward off her stool and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I was startled, unable to think straight with her body pressed so close to mine and her floral perfume wafting into my nose. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Thank you," she muttered, pulling away but not quite letting go. Her eyes were glowing as they watched me carefully, accompanying her weak-in-the-knees smile. I was sure I'd melt. "It means a lot."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak for fear I'd say something stupid. I resisted the urge to look down at her lips, which were pulled into a small, appreciative smile. She let go of me, looking to the case again and unravelling it. I caught my breath meanwhile, my senses still on override as her perfume lingered.

She was just so damn beautiful.

—

"Okay, how about this – robotic or organic aliens. Which would you rather invade our planet?" Y/BF/N asked.

I chuckled at his question. "Definitely haven't thought about that one, but let's see..."

We were hanging in the bleachers out near the football field as we waited for football practice to end. Y/BF/N had a Film project to do and needed to film the field, so I offered to help like the good friend I was.

"Probably organic," I answered as I balanced on the bleachers, standing up and tiptoeing down them like steps. "At least we could reason with them if they tried to kill us because they'd have a conscience. Robotic aliens would just be programmed to take over and that's it."

Y/BF/N seemed against the idea as he played with his camera. "Yeah, but if they were robotic, all we'd have to do is launch a missile at them and they'd explode. You can break metal. It's harder to break organic matter."

I stifled a laugh. "You've given this much thought, I see."

He gave me a knowing look. "You telling me you don't think aliens exist?"

I stopped tiptoeing and stood still as I looked down at him with humoured eyes. "You know I know aliens exist."

He waved his hand like that was enough reasoning. "There you go then!"

I laughed, wondering how he thought of this stuff, then continued to balance as I walked down the bleachers. Probably the wrong choice as when I heard a voice call me, I looked up, saw it was Wanda, then proceeded to miss a step and fall onto my arse.

"Oh God, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, moving forward to help me.

My face heated up as Y/BF/N laughed his arse off beside me. I accepted Wanda's hand and let her pull me up, before letting go immediately when I could handle it myself. Her presence always made me nervous, but this was just terrible.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said, glancing at her and freezing at her piercing gaze and suppressed smile.

"You sure?" she asked, glancing at Y/BF/N, before trying to hide her own laughter.

Fuck me, why was I such a mess whenever she was around?

"Very sure," I said, though my back began to ache from where I hit it. "What's up, anyway?"

Y/BF/N finally shut up, to my relief, and Wanda minimised her laughter before scratching her head.

"I'm waiting for practice to end so I can take Pietro home," she said, nodding to the field. "I saw you both sat here and thought I'd say hi. Are you guys watching practice?"

"Not really," I answered, before tilting my head to Y/BF/N. "We're just waiting for it to end so Y/BF/N can film for his project."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting," she said, intrigued and looking to him now. "What's that about?"

As he caught her up on it, I found myself checking Wanda out without realising. She was animated as she listened to Y/BF/N talk about his assignment, eyes giving him all of her attention, and a permanent smile was fixed on her lips as she listened to him. Though it wasn't directed at me, I felt butterflies swirling a storm in my stomach and clutched it, hoping they'd go away. I loved and hated the feeling all at once.

Breaking me from my reverie, a football flew past all three of us and hit the bleachers, startling us all. We looked in the direction it came from and saw the football team looking back at us, some laughing and some disgruntled. Two players ran towards us and when they got close enough, I made them out as Pietro and Nate.

Nate was laughing as he looked between us all, before his gaze fell on me. "It's Y/N, right? I feel like I'm always throwing that thing at you. Sorry about that."

But his constant laughing and lack of guilt refuted his words. I merely clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes his way, not that he seemed to care nor notice. I was a mere fly in a world that revolved around him. He'd never notice.

"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were over here," he added, looking to Wanda. "You okay?"

Wanda crossed her arms and seemed frustrated. "I'm fine, Nate. Just get your ball."

He shrugged and grabbed his ball. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to Wanda's cheek which made me wince, but she made no attempt in enjoying it. He didn't seem to care as he took off running back to his team. Pietro smiled apologetically at the three of us.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "He can be such a dick sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century.

With that, he turned and ran back to his team to finish up. Wanda sighed, running a hand through her hair, as Y/BF/N and I exchanged glances.

"I should get the car running," she said awkwardly, pointing a thumb over her shoulder and towards the car park. "Good luck with your assignment, Y/BF/N. And I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

Waving goodbye with an awkward smile, I watched her leave and wondered the same thing I always did whenever Nate decided to make an appearance in my life.

How could she be dating such a dick?

—

Apart from the birthday party I didn't go to, I'd never been invited (or had a reason to go) to Wanda's house. I'd seen it, rode my bike past it, but never actually been in it. So, when she invited me to her place to work on a project we'd been assigned in class, I was unsure how to feel. She was adamant though and I had no reason to say no, so the only thing left to do was say yes. Even when she offered to drive me there after school.

"This is your car?" I asked with disbelief.

I knew absolutely nothing about cars, but I wasn't blind. Hers was a gorgeous deep red colour with a convertible roof that was currently lowered so anyone in it would feel the sun on their back and wind in their hair.

"Yeah, you like it?" she asked as she got into the driver's seat.

I gulped and sat in the passenger's seat, throwing my backpack at my feet. "It's so nice. You sure you don't mind me drinking in this?"

I had a Pepsi bottle in my hand and was deathly afraid of opening it now in case I spilt it and the cleaning bill would be more than I made in a year at the pizza parlour.

She laughed, already pulling out of the car park. "Of course. Don't be silly."

I glanced in her direction, trying not to get distracted by how good she looked in the driver's seat. She was wearing a red leather jacket, funnily enough, matching the exterior of her car, and she had dark eyeliner around her eyes, accentuating the shape and colour of them and leaving me speechless whenever she looked my way.

"There's CDs in the glove compartment," she was saying as she focused on the road. "Or you can mess around with the radio. It's up to you."

"CDs?" I asked, it piquing my interest. I reached into the glove compartment, adding, "What is this, the 2000s?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, accepting my teasing, as I flicked through the small stack of albums.

"I don't know, I guess I just like having the physical version," she said with a shrug. "It's kind of like a collection."

I chuckled at her need to explain herself, watching the way she rubbed her neck nervously, smiling with embarrassment. Looking back to the albums, a particular one grabbed my attention and I plucked it out with raised brows.

"Oh my God, you like Paramore?" I asked, looking to her with surprise. "Now it's definitely the 2000s."

Her cheeks flushed as she grew flustered. I nudged her in the side gently, getting her attention briefly.

"I'm kidding," I reassured, tilting my head her way playfully. "I actually love Paramore. They're my favourite band."

"Really?" she asked with surprise as I put the CD in her car. I hummed in response, to which she continued, "Have you ever seen them live?"

As For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic played quietly in the background, I nodded my head. "Yeah, once. It was a few years ago, but the tickets were shitty and I could just about make them out on stage in the distance."

Wanda laughed, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "No, that's so sad!"

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah. It was, but oh well. They have a tour coming up this summer, right? Maybe I can get better tickets this time 'round... what about you? Have you ever seen them live?"

She hummed, making a turn at some traffic lights and chewing her lower lip as she focused on doing so. It was definitely the wrong time, but I found myself admiring how attractive it was, especially when her jaw tensed and her defined jawline was on display.

"Yeah, I saw them a few times," she finally responded, pulling me from my stupor. "Some really good seats, some really shitty ones." She giggled at the end, making me smile. "Maybe we could go to that concert in the summer. If you're up for it?"

This seemed like one of those times where you made plans with a friend that you knew would never happen, so to not cause an awkwardness in the conversation, I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe."

She glanced at me and I mirrored her smile, the flash of excitement in her eyes knocking me breathless.

When we reached her house, I was awestruck at how big it was from the inside. I mean, it looked huge from the outside, but the inside was even better. Her family were rich, I knew that, but this was some other level of rich.

"Here, c'mon, I'll get you a drink, then we can go into the dining room to start," Wanda said, failing to recognise my amazement and instead leading me to the kitchen. "We have tropical juice, apple juice, water, Sprite, Cola... which d'you want?"

I settled at the island, taking a seat and subtly admiring her kitchen. "Er, apple juice is fine with me."

She smiled brightly before pouring me a glass, whilst pouring herself some Sprite. Standing opposite me, we both took a moment to have a drink, but didn't get chance to exchange words as her mum entered the room and noticed me instantly.

"Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" she said kindly, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the fridge. "You girls hanging out? Studying?"

"We have a project," Wanda filled in as I nodded in agreement. "We alright to claim the dining room?"

After grabbing some water from the fridge, Wanda's mum pressed a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Sure thing, sweetie. If you need anything, just let me know." Smiling once more at me, she said, "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," I said with a friendly smile before she left.

"Come on," Wanda said, motioning for me to follow. "We have tons to do."

The next hour and a half was spent with Wanda and I planning out our project, our work sprawled along the dining table messily. We were making progress, until she got a call suddenly. It seemed serious as she gave me an apologetic glance and excused herself. I let her go and leaned back in my seat, wondering what I could do as I waited for her to return. That thought was resolved quite quickly when Pietro popped his head in the doorway and spotted me.

"Y/N! What an honour to welcome you to our humble abode," he exclaimed, entering the room fully. "What brings you here?"

Pietro's presence always brought an amused smile to my lips. "Wanda and I are working on a Chemistry project. She's just nipped out for a phone call."

He tutted dramatically, crossing his arms. "Well, well, well. We can't have that! Wanda needs to learn to entertain her guests. C'mon. I was about to head to the gaming room and could use the company."

I was visibly surprised. "You have a gaming room? Dude, that's awesome!"

He laughed. "C'mon."

Joining Pietro, the two of us headed to this so-called gaming room and I was not disappointed. There was a huge TV with a PlayStation and Nintendo Switch connected to it, a snooker table, a foosball table, a dart board, some old arcade games – it was amazing, any gamer's biggest dream.

"What you feeling, princess?" he said with that flirtatious smile of his.

I rolled my eyes playfully. He was being overtly flirty, more so than his sister was – was it a Maximoff personality trait or something? – and I wasn't sure whether he meant it or was just being his usual self.

"Are you flirting?" I deadpanned, tilting my head curiously. "I can't tell."

He pocketed his hands, swinging back on the heels of his feet. "That depends. Is it working?"

Despite my lack of interest in him like that, I felt my face heat up at the attention. "Pietro, I must tell you that any moves you attempt to make kind of won't work."

"And why's that?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the snooker table with a cheeky smile on his lips. "Am I not your type?"

"Unless you change into a girl, then no," I played along, making him flush with embarrassment. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm gay."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled to himself, before sighing and meeting my eyes. "We can still be friends, right? Or is that forbidden since you're already friends with my sister?"

I laughed and approached him. "Friends works. I don't think Wanda will care. I certainly don't."

He grinned. "Awesome! Well, d'you wanna play a round of foosball?"

"Sure," I said with an amused expression. "Bet I can kick your arse."

He pushed himself off the table and feigned surprise. "Oh? Game on, Y/L/N."

I didn't realise how long Wanda had been on the phone until I managed to get through three rounds of foosball and was in the middle of a snooker game with Pietro.

"You may have beat me at foosball, but you're terrible at this," he pointed out with stifled laughter.

I'd missed my third shot and it was more funny than it was embarrassing.

"Your talking distracts me," I said dismissively, before lining up the next shot with my cue.

He watched as I tried to take my shot before sighing loudly. I glanced at him with a quirked brow.

"You have a thought you'd like to share?" I asked playfully.

He hesitated, moving forward to correct my posture. "Look, if you just aim it like this–"

"Don't even think about it, Romeo," I said jokingly, standing up straight and pushing him away gently. "I know what you're thinking."

He laughed. "What? I was just going to help you aim!"

I gave him a knowing look. "So holding me close is just a bonus?"

"Fine, take your shot without my help and see what happens," he said dismissively, waving his hand.

"I'll do just that," I said with confidence, before bending down and taking my shot. The ball hit the other and neither were pocketed, which was an achievement as I'd got the cue ball in several times before, but still pretty shit as I didn't score any points.

Pietro smiled with satisfaction, leaning on his cue. "You happy with that?"

I held in a laugh as I looked to him. "Shut up."

He chuckled before bumping me out the way. "Now for the professional."

Bending down to take his shot, he pulled back his cue before hitting the balls. They rolled around on the table and one ball was about to go in, but I quickly grabbed it before he could get the point.

"Y/N!" he shouted between laughter. "That's cheating!"

"Technically we didn't establish rules," I pointed out, before moving backwards as he tried to grab it from my hand. "What do you say to calling it a draw and playing something else?"

"I say that's a childish way to admit you've lost," he responded, before moving forward quickly. I dodged his attempt and he pursed his lips. "Y/N."

"Pietro."

He smirked. "Seriously?"

I grinned.

He tried to grab it again and ended up chasing me around the room as I avoided giving in. Taking the piss out of Y/BF/N enough times had prepared me for moments like this, so I was able to avoid Pietro long enough to run into whoever walked through the door.

"Shit, Wanda, I'm sorry," I said between laughter, steadying both me and her.

She smiled with confusion, about to speak, but Pietro caught up to me and lifted me up, throwing me onto the couch before I could protest.

"No more cheating," he said sternly, as I lifted my head from the pile of cushions on the couch to look up at him.

"You're an arse," I said, pushing myself up off the couch.

"And you're a sore loser!"

We had a mini staring competition before the two of erupted into laughter.

"You're not half bad, Pietro," I complimented as he helped me up.

"Thank you, princess," he said, the flirtatious smile on his lips again.

I shoved him in the shoulder playfully before looking to Wanda, who was chewing on her lip as she looked between Pietro and I with an unreadable expression.

"So, what prompted you to leave Y/N alone for an hour?" Pietro asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, making me shove him away. He grinned at me before looking to Wanda.

"Nate called," Wanda responded carefully, arms crossed as she continued to look between us. God, I hoped she didn't think Pietro and I liked each other. That would be embarrassing.

Pietro scoffed from beside me, making Wanda sigh with annoyance.

"Don't start, Piet," she said and gave him a look which he seemed to understand.

By the sounds of it, Pietro didn't seem to like Wanda's dick of a boyfriend either. That was strange since wasn't impressing the brother the first part of being in a relationship with someone? And they were on the same football team, so I figured he'd at least tolerate him.

"Are we alright to get back to studying?" Wanda asked, directing her stare to me. The annoyance she held for Pietro was still present in her eyes and I suddenly felt nervous when she looked my way.

"Yeah, of course," I said, before giving Pietro a half-smile. "Rematch at snooker next time. Sound good?"

"Try to keep the balls on the table and we'll see," he teased, before nodding to Wanda. "You should get back to your project before Wanda kills us both with her deadly glare."

I smiled awkwardly, looking back to Wanda as she was indeed glaring at her brother. Clearly there was some sibling rivalry going on here, and I definitely didn't want to get in the middle of it, so I headed to Wanda, signalling I was ready to leave.

The two of us headed back to the dining room in an uncomfortable silence. I felt like I'd done something wrong and she was giving me the silent treatment which was strange. Then I figured it was probably something with Nate that made her annoyed, so didn't question it too much.

We sat back down and I looked at what we'd done so far to try and pick up where we left off, but then she spoke out of the blue, taking me by surprise.

"Do you like my brother?"

It was so abrupt that I took a moment to acknowledge it, blinking. "What?"

"Pietro," she clarified, saying it with such dismissiveness like it wasn't a big deal. Her attention was on the books before us as she continued, "Do you like him?"

I tried not to laugh as I shook my head. "No, Wanda. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. But yeah, no, I don't like him like that."

She chewed her lip, nodding, but I swear I saw a hint of a smile on her lips. I hoped it wasn't the thought of Pietro and I that made her annoyed. I wasn't that bad, was I? I know she cared about her brother and was probably overprotective, but me being his girlfriend couldn't have been that bad, right?

We got back to work in no time, getting a lot done. I didn't realise how late it was getting until Wanda's mum poked her head in, asking if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Dinner?" I asked, eyebrows raising with surprise. I checked my watch and realised how long I'd been here. "Damn, maybe I should head back."

"Nonsense, you must stay," her mum insisted. "Y/M/N won't mind. A daughter of hers is a daughter of mine."

"You can even sleepover if you want," Wanda offered, and I almost choked on my own spit. "It's getting pretty late."

I shook my head, forcing a small smile so they wouldn't get offended. "Honestly, it's fine. I can head back."

"Please?" Wanda asked with a hopeful expression. "It's the least I can do. I kinda wasted your time for an hour earlier..."

"I should ask my mum," I said, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

"Oh, I'll ring and let her know," Wanda's mum said breezily, before looking to Wanda. "D'you think you can clear your things up? Your brother is gonna set the table."

"Sure, mum." Wanda smiled her way as she left, before looking to me. "I've got clothes and a spare toothbrush you can use tonight."

I smiled awkwardly, nodding. Sleeping over at my crush's house wasn't how I thought I'd be spending my Wednesday evening, yet here we were.

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