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mickyschumacher · 11 months ago

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𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!

Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).

As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.

"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of

You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.

Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."

You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.

Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."

You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...

Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"

Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.

While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.

While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.

You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.

Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?

Wait what?

"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.

You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"

Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.

APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.

Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.

Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."

Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...

A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"

Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.

The best chocolates for sex in 2023!

Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!

Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.

You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"

You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.

Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.

You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.

To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.

Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).

Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.

But all goods things must come to an end.

Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.

With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"

A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.

His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.

Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.

Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.

In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..

"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.

You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"

In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.

You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.

A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.

Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.

Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.

His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.

You had completely lost yourself.

Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.

Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.

You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.

Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.

You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.

Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."

You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.

You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.

He was distracting you.

"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."

Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.

You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."

"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.

His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"

You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"

The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."

"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.

"Yep! Precisely."

Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.

His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.

You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."

Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.

His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.

Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."

"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.

Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.

He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.

Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...

"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.

But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...

Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.

You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.

Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"

Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.

"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.

For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.

You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.

"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.

"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.

"Oh..."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #formua one smut

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elodieunderglass · 8 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.

long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!

(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)

That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.

I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.

but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.

(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)

You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.

However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.

Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.

Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.

Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.

You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.

Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.

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kindred-spirit-93 · 20 days ago

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600 strike storyboard concept idea thingy

research suggest listening to epic while trying to study is a very bad idea. but that wont stop me because i cant read muehehe.

creative liberties taken so keep that in mind. forgive the awful art lol

aight so starting off with get in the water, poseidons trident to me can control the movement of the water. now poseidon being the personification of the sea itself uses it to streamline his movement but also bc it looks badass. anyway

the trident summons a whirlpool thingy (imagine cool visuals pls)

the currents are unforgiving and the tides are furious, ody is being slapped around, salt in his eyes (ouch). "maybe you could learn to forgive"... a moment of calm (silence before the storm ayy). "nah son"

"die" poseidon spears ody into the water, parting the ocean with the sheer force of the throw, ody is unharmed by the trident lol dont ask me how or why. anyway the pressure difference is quite literally making his head implode he passes out for a lil while

boom trauma trio. more cool visual imagining pls

polites and eury each have a hand on his shoulder, anticlea meanwhile cradles her sons head gently, singing softly into his ear. his men join in calling out to their captain. entire lifetimes of camraderie and love arent ended by death.

heres the kicker; poli and eury look at each other and back to their men, preparing one final attack to aid their captain. thie idea here is sort of reminicent to survive back when they faced polyphemus.

the trio open the wind bag together and the crew takes it from here. anticlea guides ody to the surface while his men form a tsunami that rises and rises, towering over poseidon

all throughout their chorus its just tidal wave after tidal wave. now ofc the water itself isnt dealing damage, theyre just buying their beloved captain time so he can catch his breath and regain his wits. (anticlea pats him on the back while he coughs out the saltwater in his lungs. yk for futher emotional damage) their waves bring them all closer to the shore while keeping good distance between the raft and the god

ody sees the trident and something sinister washes over him, this could either go horribly wrong or horribly wrong. but danger is his friend after all and it was nerf or nothing. ithacas famous coast is in sight and he has an idea. time to make use of those jagged rocks

aight now the ghosts... ghost (sorry i had to) and poseidon whos a little out of breath calls ody out on his stupidity which is funny bc he didnt open the bag AGAIN but this time around its in his favour anyway.

he points his own trident at him (again theres a lot of distance between them and ody here has the upper hand). poseidon realises this and yells wait (pathetic. i love him) a n y w a y

with each strike the waves rise and crash into poseidon and hes like metaphonically impaled on the spiky rocks and idk how godly pain receptors work but im giving him all the agony and hes going to feel it all. this is where he cries out very melodically lmao

"next to my wife". the man the myth the mango master

ur spinach puffs nasty af. it was funny in the moment okay

#the raft has more plot armour than ody lmao #if the worst comes to the worst he could always give poseidon a splinter. that ought to teach him #epic the musical #the vengeance saga #600 strike #storyboard #concept art #but like just barely #decided to spare yall the horror of this in colours lol #my art

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lumi-nescentt · 11 months ago

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What A Blessing To Feel Your Love

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Reader

Warnings: a few sex jokes here and there bc they like to tease each other

Words: 6k

Summary: You and Pierre have been dating for a few years and he always loved spoiling you so when Max tells him about his stay in st barts, Pierre decide that he has to take you there.

A/N: I did ended up quoting the song Red Desert by 5sos... couldn't help myself :)

Being Pierre's girlfriend was already a great life experience during the season, the man loved to have you with him as much as he could whether it was in the paddock, in his Milan apartment or in whatever place he had to be for work or pleasure.

Since you had to work with his schedule, yours was a little less busier, it was simpler that way. Pierre insisted on paying for everything when you travelled to meet him. You had tried arguing with him but whenever it happened, Pierre just shut you up with a kiss and told you that whatever he was paying for was worth it if he got to see you a little more often.

It was hard to argue with that logic, especially when he smiled so fondly whenever you agreed to come with him. Despite having this kind of intimidating aura, Pierre was the kindest and most thoughtful boyfriend you ever had. Being with him felt like coming home in a way and that was the most comforting feeling.

When the summer break came, you usually tagged along to wherever his friends had planned to go that year. It usually circled back to the same three locations: Greece, Italy and the South of France. All three destinations were great: beautiful landscapes, clear waters and warm sun. It was the perfect destination to get a good tan for both Pierre and you.

The Frenchman knew how much you loved your summer trips so when he had heard Max talk about this beautiful island he had gone to for New Year's, he had immediately booked a trip for the both of you during that same time.

Keeping it a surprise had been the trickiest part. He wanted to surprise you but he needed to be sure that you were free during that time. In the end he settled for just telling you that he was taking you somewhere right after Christmas until after New Year's. You had tried to get more information out of him but the little fucker had kept his mouth shut, no matter what sneaky tactics you had tried to use.

That’s why you were currently sitting in a private jet, still clueless about your destination. Pierre had only told you to let your best friend pack your suitcase because it was the only way to keep the secret for this long. The only thing you knew was that the flight was going to last around 9 hours so you were prepared to be a little bored.

Pierre hated flying, he had told you countless times, when it was just the two of you laying down in bed at night. How, even with how much he did it, he couldn’t shake how terrified he was to crash. A 9 hours flight meant that you were most likely crossing the Atlantic ocean and that took a lot out of your boyfriend so, even though there were a lot of seats you could have taken, you sat on the one right next to him, holding his hand and letting him rest his head on your shoulder.

You knew Pierre had relaxed a little when his breath evened and the death-grip on your hand loosened slightly. A wave of relief washed over you as you saw his peaceful face, brushing a strand of hair away from his face before resting your head on top of his, finally allowing yourself to rest now that Pierre was fast asleep.

You woke up a few hours later to Pierre trying to remove his head from under yours without waking you up. Noticing he had failed, the Frenchman offered you an apologetic smile that you brushed off with a soft press of your lips on his cheek. Since you were now both awake and still had time to kill, Pierre got his laptop out so you could watch the latest show you had been watching together.

The both of you got so lost in it that you didn’t notice right away as the plane started to go lower. Pierre was the first one to realise, his whole body tensing and gripping the arm rest as discreetly as he could. However, you knew him too well not to see that so you put his hand back in yours and started to trace random shapes on the back of it until the plane finally came to a stop.

The first thing that hit you when you got out of the plane was the heat. Gone was the December cold and the snow you had experienced in Europe, you felt the heat envelop you and your sweatshirt was gone the second you put one foot outside.

The second thing that hit you was that you weren’t heading towards the terminal and instead you were being led to an even smaller private plane. You looked at Pierre with a questioning look on your face but all you got in return was a cramped smile.

The Frenchman tried to look as chill as he could but Max had told him that the plane ride from St Maarten to St Barts was one of the scariest he had experienced. And that came from Max Verstappen so Pierre took it more than seriously.

Once you were back in the air, you watched in awe the crystal blue water that seemed to stretch forever as Pierre tried his best not to let the fear take over. Luckily for him, the flight barely lasted 15 minutes and soon the both of you watched as the plane’s nose dipped towards the earth at a rapid pace. Pierre watched terrified as the plane manoeuvred between two mountains before dropping down on the runway he could see from the plane’s windshield from where he was sitting.

As soon as the doors were opened, Pierre was outside with his bags. He ran towards the minuscule airport, giving you a sorry smile as he bent over the edge of the closest bin and finally released what his stomach had tried to hold onto during the short flight.

After passing the border control surprisingly fast, it only took you 2 minutes from the moment you crossed the first door to the moment you were back outside, Pierre stopping to the bathroom to brush his teeth, the Frenchman looked at you with a brighter smile.

-“ Welcome to St Barts mon coeur”

-"Pierre, this is beautiful. That's the best surprise ever." you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck

-" Wait till you see the place we're staying at, it's even prettier."

You had trouble believing Pierre but the moment your boyfriend stopped in front of the hotel, you knew he might actually be right. The hotel was overlooking a beautiful white sand beach with red sunbeds and a few swings. Pierre went to grab the room key and as he did a quick room tour, you let yourself crash onto the bed, groaning into the pillow.

-“ You should really get up and take a look at the view, you know ?” Pierre chuckled as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand coming to rest on your lower back

-“ I will in a minute, I promise. I just need to rest my neck for a second.”

-“ Are you feeling alright ?” Pierre asked, sounding a little worried as you shifted on your side to face him

-“ Don’t worry about it, I’m just a little tense because of the flight but I’ll be alright.”

-“ Come here, sit up please.” Pierre said as he patted the space in front of him “ Tell me if I’m putting too much pressure on it, okay ?”

-“ You don’t have to give me a massage Pierre.” you affirmed but as soon as his hands were on your neck, you couldn’t keep the sigh of relief from leaving your mouth

-“ First off, I’m doing this for both of us because I’m not going to be able to enjoy myself if you’re in pain and you should know that. Second, I won’t miss out on having my hands on my beautiful girlfriend.” Pierre smiled cheekily, pressing a kiss on your cheek

-“ Well, when you put it like that.” you said, not able to keep a laugh from escaping your lips

After Pierre’s massage that had inevitably turned into a quick and needed makeout session, you finally got to do your long awaited room tour. The bedroom was facing an enormous window with a sea-view and over your own private little infinity pool. The next room was a walk-in closet made of oak with a glass sliding door that opened on your terrace with a little table and two sunbeds.

Finally, the bathroom was separated in three parts: the toilet room that was just what it seemed only expensive looking, the double sink part with a marble countertop and a mirror that reached the ceiling and finally, the italian shower that was entirely covered in black stone tiles with a small square window that, of course, showed you a clear view of the beach and the never-ending ocean in front of you.

You were still looking at the bathroom when Pierre sneaked his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder which made you jump slightly.

-“ So, what do you think ? Is that a good surprise ?”

-“ It’s perfect, I couldn’t dream of a better place to spend the holidays.” you smiled, caressing his cheek softly

-“ What about the company ?”

-“ You already know what I think about that, Pierre. You only want to hear it again because it flatters your ego…”

-“ Maybe I just like to make sure my girlfriend is as in love with me as I am with her.” Pierre retorqued, kissing your shoulder

-“ The company is the best. Thanks for bringing me here, darling.”

-“ It’s my pleasure.” the Frenchman smiled “ Do you want to have a quick nap or do you want to go explore a bit ?”

-“ I don’t think we came here to sleep so let’s get ready, Gasly.”

-“ I mean, I wouldn’t mind a little time on the bed but you’re the boss so let’s go.” Pierre winked, unwrapping his arms from your waist

-“ Get your mind out of the gutter and get out so I can shower please.” you laughed, grabbing the nearest towel, fakely hitting your boyfriend who started laughing

-“ You’re no fun, you know that ? If you change your mind, just yell. I’ll come in a sec.”

-" It won't happen but alright, now go please." you smiled, kissing Pierre tenderly

Now that you were finally free of your very loving boyfriend who had gone on the balcony to lay in the sun, you finally got ready to go explore the island a little before jetlag caught up with the both of you.

When Pierre showed you the car he had rented, you couldn’t help the laugh that got out of your mouth. The car was cute but it was a bright orange small open car that looked straight out of a cartoon. It definitely wasn’t something you had expected your boyfriend to drive but with his white linen outfit, he weirdly fit in this beach day paradise picture.

Pierre seemed to know where he was going, reading the indications on the signs and smoothly manoeuvring the car on the tight roads. The drive wasn’t long and yet it seemed like you had travelled elsewhere. Gone was the busy hotel and the white sandy beach full of tourists, you were now faced with an empty beach covered with rocks and waves crashing on the shore in intervals.

You were rendered speechless by the view, turning towards Pierre to say something, anything, to tell him that it was the most beautiful place you’d ever been to but there was no word to describe exactly how magical the moment felt. Especially when the sun was slowly getting down and casting a warm orange light on Pierre who was just smiling at you with so much love. The whole scene made you want to do a single thing and you quickly did, pressing your lips against Pierre’s as a way to express the tumult of feelings you were feeling inside.

The two of you sat on a small stonewall overlooking the beach as you watched the sun descend behind the horizon line, your head on Pierre’s shoulder and his hand on your thigh. Neither of you said anything until the sun was completely hidden and Pierre tugged on your hand, motioning for you to get off the wall.

You could have stayed there forever with him but if you were being honest, the jetlag was starting to catch up with you and you were getting hungrier by the minute. Pierre was well aware of the last part as your stomach grumbled rather loudly during the car ride back to the hotel, making the both of you laugh.

Despite wanting to discover the island a little more, you decided to order room service for the night, too tired to go out. Plus, eating in your room wasn’t a bad thing at all, you got to eat while listening to the peaceful sound of the waves crashing and nobody would be telling you anything about decorum if your body was leaning and desperately clinging onto Pierre.

The Frenchman wasn’t complaining at all about that last part, happy to have you close and even happier when you agreed to go for a quick swim in the pool with him before bed. Well, swim was a big word because you were mostly hugging Pierre the whole time as he tried to move around before giving up and sitting on the stairs to cuddle in the water.

You could have dozed off right there under the pale moonlight and the warmth of Pierre’s skin but he wouldn’t let you because he knew better. You were tired and not used to the temperature yet so that could make you get sick easier than usual and Pierre didn’t want that at all. Knowing that you’d be too tired to do anything now that you were almost asleep, Pierre just dragged you to the bathroom, washing your face and rinsing the chlorine off your skin before giving you one of his shirts to sleep in.

Between the softness of your boyfriend’s t-shirt, the weight of his arm around your waist and the AC softly blowing air in the room, you could definitely say this was one of the best nights of sleep you got in a while. Pierre would have honestly said the same if he hadn’t been woken up by the feeling of your finger poking his ribs and tickling his neck. He tried to feign annoyance and act grumpy but the act was dropped the moment you started peppering kisses all over his face until piercing blue eyes were looking at you with an infectious smile.

Breakfast was eaten in a hurry, Pierre telling you he had planned a whole day of activities and that you needed to be ready soon. His warning would have been nice if he had actually said what you were doing so you knew how to dress but he was adamant on keeping it a surprise, only telling you to wear a swimsuit. When he jokingly complained that you were taking too long to get ready, you reminded him that looking this gorgeous took a little time, teasingly adding that he wouldn’t know about that as you came out of the bathroom.

When your eyes fell on him, your urge to tease him completely melted. His body was resting against the door frame, lazily playing with a few unruly strands of hair and he couldn’t have looked more attractive to you. It didn’t even look like he was trying hard to look good too with his crisp white linen shirt and those orange swim shorts you had found horrendous at first. Now you couldn’t help but notice how it complimented his already tanned skin and toned body.

-“ You like what you see, mon coeur ?” he exaggeratedly winked

-“ You don’t look too bad for someone who took 5 minutes to get ready.”

-“ What can I say… Some of us are just naturally breathtaking.” he laughed as you pouted

-“ Some of us ? Should I feel insulted ?”

-“ No, never. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No matter what you’re wearing or not wearing.” Pierre teased, putting his hands on your hips, pulling you against him to kiss you slowly

-“ Alright, as much as I love what we’re doing right now, you said we couldn’t be late to what you had planned so we need to leave now.” you mumbled, lips inches away from his as he grunted, knowing you were right

The drive to the mysterious spot was nice and despite how short it was, Pierre’s hand was on your thigh as you watched in awe the turquoise water that seemed to stretch for hundreds of miles and the trees full of colourful flowers. You were so focused on the scenery around you that you almost didn’t notice when he stopped the car and came round to open the door for you.

You looked around, trying to guess what you were doing today and when your eyes fell on the yachts lined up next to each other, you turned towards your boyfriend with an excited look on your face. Pierre nodded before wrapping his hand in yours and walking towards one of the boats. Since it was only you and him, you expected to go on the smallest one but instead Pierre marched towards the biggest one and saluted the man waiting in front of it before climbing aboard.

You knew Pierre was rich. You had been dating for years at this point and you had witnessed his financial growth first hand, going from quick and cheap cinema dates in small towns to expensive restaurants all over the world but this was something else. Pierre had always been pretty quiet about his wealth, he knew you didn’t exactly come from money and hated to feel like you were just leeching off him when there was a cheaper equivalent that was just as good.

However, this was different. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy the luxurious boat you had all to yourself. Not when Pierre was looking all too happy to show you around, explaining how he had asked for this specific boat and why. It was endearing really, the way he seemed so happy to please you and treat you like a princess. In all honesty, he was probably enjoying the smile and the kiss you gave him as a thanks more than the actual boat he had paid thousands to rent.

Your day on the water started on a high because as soon as you were out of the marina, the boat threw the anchor down and suddenly jet skis were dropped down in the water for you and Pierre. The Frenchman tried to convince you to try it on your own first but when he realised that having you on the same one as him meant having you as close as possible, he stopped arguing and almost jumped on the jet ski with a sly smile.

You spent about an hour and a half hanging onto Pierre for dear life as you let out screams of pure adrenaline when you jumped over the waves at high speed, crashing with brutal force, knocking the air out of your lungs for a few seconds before you laughed. The sound was music to Pierre’s ears and you could tell he was doing his best to pull it out of you as often as he could by showing off and going as fast as he dared.

When you finally came back to the yacht, someone was waiting to tell you that lunch was ready whenever you were. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were until you saw the table filled with your favourite things and in quantities you could never ingest, even with a boyfriend that could eat his own weight in food easily. Nevertheless, you sat down on the bench determined to honour the time the people who cooked must have spent making this.

You realised you had eaten too much a bit too late so when Pierre asked what you wanted to do after lunch, you just shrugged, wanting nothing more than to sleep until you were feeling less groggy and full. Without you having to say a word, Pierre understood and took your hand so you followed him towards the front of the boat where the sunbed was. It was the biggest one you had ever seen, taking most of the place there and it looked so comfortable you couldn’t help but sigh expectantly.

Pierre lied down first, spreading his arms out as he settled on his back with one hand behind his head. He looked almost unreal like that, all flushed skin from the sun, shining with what you assumed was a thin layer of sweat from the sun that peaked above you. You didn’t ever care about the heat or the sweat as you joined him on the bed, half on top of him, your cheek resting on his chest, his chin on the top of your head.

You hadn’t even realised you were starting to fall asleep until you felt something cold hit your back, shrieking at the feeling. You looked up when you felt Pierre laugh softly, glaring at him menacingly to make him stop whatever he was trying to do.

-“ Relax princess. I’m just putting sunscreen on your back so you can sleep without looking like a lobster tomorrow.”

-“ Oh, that’s really nice of you. Thanks.”

-“ Wouldn’t want you whining about how your back hurt the whole trip now, would we ?”

-“ I don’t whine, Pierre.” you huffed, rolling your eyes as he smiled even bigger now

-“ You’re a terrible liar but it’s okay, I still love you.” he tried to kiss you, chuckling when you pulled back, still acting offended

-“ Even if I did whine, which I don’t… I thought you liked hearing me. Isn’t that what you said last time in your driver’s room ?” you asked, looking at him with the biggest doe eyes you could as his whole face flushed red

-“ You– You’re going to be the death of me one day, you know that ?”

-“ It’s okay, we both know you love it.” you winked, pecking his lips before stretching and settling down against him again, ready to nap for real this time

-“ Oh no no, mon coeur. You don’t get to tease me like that and then just fall asleep after you reminded me of this. If I can’t sleep, you’re not sleeping either.” he promised, shuffling under you, picking you up with ease

-“ Pierre. Put me down.”

-“ What’s the magic word, princess ?”

-“ I’m not calling you daddy, if that’s what you were asking for.” you teased, knowing it would rile him up

-“ For the last time, y/n, I do not have a daddy kink so please for the love of God, stop saying that every time we’re in public because people are going to actually start believing it.” Pierre blurted, his face flushing

-“ But you’re so cute when you blush. How could I resist when teasing you is so fun and so easy ?”

-“ Who are you calling cute ?” he tried, flexing his muscles as he tried to pull you towards him, attempting a biceps curl

-“ Slow down big boy, I don’t want to fall face first and whine all week about how much it hurts.” you teased back

-“ You know what ? I was going to be nice and just put you back down but I feel like you’re a little too feisty today and maybe you need to cool down a bit.” Pierre nodded to himself, walking closer to the end of the boat as you wiggled in his arms, demanding that he put you down with screaming giggles

Pierre liked to think he was a nice boyfriend or at least nice enough to make sure he warned you before jumping so you could close your mouth before entering the water. The water wasn’t particularly cold but you definitely felt a rush of blood course through your entire body from the suddenness of it . You tried to look mad when you looked at Pierre but between his goofy smile and the water dripping from his hair onto his nose and his lips, you didn’t last a second before pressing your lips against his. This may not be heaven but it felt pretty damn close to you.

After kissing for a bit in the water, Pierre letting you control the pace and how long you did it for, claiming it was his way of apologising when you both knew he was enjoying this just as much as you, you finally got your nap in the sun. You were still laying on top of Pierre and as time went by and the sun slowly got down, you could feel your boyfriend grow restless under you. You tried to ask him if he wanted you to move off him or if something was wrong but he just told you not to move and that everything was perfect.

You didn’t quite believe him but you knew he would tell you at some point if something was really bothering him so you let it slide. Still wanting to show that you were there for him, you tightened your arms around his body and started playing with the hair at the back of his neck just the way he loved. It seemed to make him relax a little because by the time the captain of the boat came to tell you they had to head back to the marina, Pierre was smiling again.

After spending your whole day outside doing activities, you expected Pierre to want to rest for the evening and have dinner in your room but as soon as you were back at the hotel, he was off to shower telling you that he’d leave you the bathroom once he was done so you could take your time to get ready. Before you could even say something, he told you that the restaurant was a surprise and that it was a pretty fancy place so you could dress up if you wanted to.

You tried to drag your boyfriend on the bed when he came out only wearing a towel around his hips but despite giving you a long and languid kiss, Pierre didn’t give in. He was adamant that the plans he had made needed to happen and that even his drop dead gorgeous girlfriend, his words, couldn’t convince him to be late. Since he was never one to turn down such an offer to have fun, you couldn’t help but grow suspicious at his behaviour.

Just when you were about to say something about it, Pierre pushed you towards the bathroom with a kiss, biting your bottom lip and playfully slapping your ass before leaving you to get ready. Now, that was more like the Pierre you knew so you brushed off your previous feeling and started getting ready.

The restaurant was more than beautiful. Pierre had picked a place straight out of a fairytale with that one. It was on the beach, dim lights everywhere that created an intimate ambiance paired with the sound of the waves crashing and the low jazz music playing in the background. You expected to be seated at one of the tables you saw but the waiter walked a little further away on the beach, revealing a secluded table surrounded by palm trees and what looked like fancy fairy lights.

You let Pierre drag your chair for you as you took in your surroundings. The Frenchman was watching you with a soft smile on his face, a clear affection written all over his features.

-“ So, do you like it ?” he asked as he anxiously sat down

-“ Pierre, this is perfect.”

-“ Really ?”

-“ Yes, I couldn’t dream of a prettier place to eat with you.”

-“ I’m glad you like it, I had a bunch of options but this restaurant was the only one that felt right, the only one that felt like us.” he admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck

-“ You made a great choice but you really don’t have to stress yourself over this. I’ll be more than happy to eat junk food sitting on the pavement if that means I get to spend time with you.”

-“ I know, I just like spoiling you and showing you off I guess.” he smiled brightly as the waiter came back, stopping the moment you two had been sharing

It was a dinner filled with good wine, exquisite food and even better company. Despite having the waiter come back a few times to ask if everything was alright, it truly felt like you were the only two in the world right now. Pierre was a little touchier than usual, keeping your hand in his whenever you didn’t need it and scooting his chair closer to you so he could rest his hand on your thigh when you nodded both hands to eat. It was endearing and you couldn’t do anything but smile back and melt into his familiar touch.

You knew your boyfriend too much not to notice he was growing antsy as the meal was getting closer to the end but despite moving around a lot, he was still smiling and he seemed happy so you let him be again, not wanting to ruin the romantic atmosphere. When the dessert finally came, you dug in with appetite in the beautiful tiramisu as Pierre laughed at your behaviour before moving his seat back a little.

-“ I’m so happy to be here with you, mon coeur.” Pierre started while you were still looking at your plate and eating, your full focus on the food in front of you “ We’ve been together for almost 5 years now, you know ? I wish I could say that I find this crazy but I really don’t. I feel like I’ve known you forever and 5 years seems way too small compared to what I want with you.”

-“ Oh Pierre…” you started, finally looking at him as you felt your voice quivering with emotions

-“ I’ve thought about us a lot recently and there isn’t a single moment where I’d want us to be apart. You’ve been there for me at my worst and yet you still found it in yourself to love me for who I am and I don’t want to imagine where I’d be without you. I know I’m not usually one to talk about feelings and stuff like that but you make me feel safe enough to do so just by being yourself because you’re the most understanding, loving and caring person I know.” he declared, wrapping his hand in yours before continuing “I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else on this planet because I truly believe we are made for each other. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else and that’s why I actually wanted us to come here because you deserve to know how much you mean to me and how much I love you.”

-“ I love you so much, baby. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else ever either.” you murmured, fighting back tears as you watched Pierre slowly grab something in his pocket

-“ I’m glad you said that actually because I wanted to ask you something.” he smiled, letting go of your hand to grab the velvet box in his hands

-“ No, you didn’t !” you exclaimed, slapping your hand over your mouth while Pierre dropped to one knee in front of you

-“ Y/n, mon coeur, you’re the love of my life and there’s nothing I want more than to be able to call you my wife and grow old with you. Will you give me the honour of calling you my wife ?”

-“ Yes, God, yes I’ll marry you. I love you so much.” you cried as he put the ring on your finger before kneeling down on the ground and kissing him with all the force you had

-“ I love you too, amour. You have no idea how much.” Pierre smiled, tears wetting his cheeks too while you rested your forehead against his

-“ I think I do after your big speech.”

-“ That was kind of the point of the whole thing.” he laughed, the sound making your heart soar with love so intensely you felt a sob wash over you at thought that this beautiful man in front of you was now your fiancé

-“ You’re such an idiot making me cry like that, you big dork. I must look awful with the tear stains.” you sniffled, Pierre pulling you in for a hug before helping you sit back on your chair again

-“ You look perfect, I promise. You look like someone who just got engaged.”

-“ It’s not fair, you look beautiful as always and not all snotty from crying like me. I hate you so much. I hope you know we’re not taking engagement pictures with me looking like that.” you scoffed, hiding behind your glass of champagne that was now empty

-“ Don’t worry, I’m not crying much now but the day we get married I’ll be a crying fountain and you can laugh all you want then.”

-“ I still can’t believe it, you’re going to be my husband. Oh my God, I’m going to be your wife.”

-“ You’re not already regretting it, are you ?”

-“ Of course not. I know it doesn’t look like it with all the tears and the teasing but there’s no word to describe how happy I am that you proposed. You’re the love of my life, P. I mean it. You’re my person, always and forever.”

-“ Good because I might have invited our families and close friends to celebrate with us here for New Year’s.” he admitted with a grin, making you laugh

-“ You were that sure that I’d say yes ?” you teased him with a nudge of your shoulder

-“ I was just really hoping you would because it would’ve been really uncomfortable otherwise.”

-“ Well it’s a good thing I’m head over heels in love with you then.”

-“ The feeling’s more than mutual mon coeur.” Pierre smiled, pressing his lips against yours, pouring all the love he felt for you in that slow kiss

The days between your engagement and the arrival of everyone had been spent in a daze. You and Pierre were completely immersed in your own bubble and everything felt like the beginning of your relationship again. Whatever Pierre said made you blush and he couldn’t help but feel the need to impress you and make you fall in love with him all over again.

Seeing the ring he had chosen on your finger was making him feel all kinds of things and it seemed like being apart from you for two seconds was now impossible. He was always touching you in a way and he gave you nothing short of the princess treatment.

It was endearing and you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel the exact same way as you took pictures to share the news to everyone around you. Pierre was beaming with pride whenever he caught you looking at the ring with a smile or when he looked at his own. There was truly no one else he’d want to spend his life with so he was relieved you said yes.

The day you finally got married, Pierre kept his promise and wept as you walked in and as he read his vows, taking a deep breath before saying the last sentence of his carefully written text. Holding your delicate hands in his, Pierre said: “ You’re the only one I'd do this with, what a blessing to feel your love, mon coeur.”

That last sentence was engraved in your head and in your heart, probably resonating deep in your soul until you’d give your last breath and leave the love of your life before he joined you into eternity. Because you knew Pierre and you were bonded by something bigger, you were twin flames, two parts of one being separated in two bodies, destined to find each other in every life, no matter what form that took. You were sure of it, it was the reason you agreed to marry him, he was your person, always and forever.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader

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da3dm · 1 year ago

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In the deep blue sea, there isn't a place for me

—

Yeah I got that title from the same thing sloth sent brick...but I changed it a bit! Here's the result of that mystery poll from before—Sloth kinda half helped with editing this...this is a oneshot with two parts to it bc it'll be super long otherwise and then brick would never read it

It feels rushed to me but maybe not to you guys! Also my askbox is always open

Taglist: @brick-a-doodle-do , @i-am-beckyu , @justarandomsloth , @awkwardgtace , @rosewriting-ao3 (and look rose, gentle giant!!)

If you want tagged you gotta tell me or I can't

TW: Unintentional fearplay, character believing they'll die, begging to die (won't die), blood, mild cursing there's like one curse word bc Irza is Irza, character thinking they might be eaten, mention of suicide. (If there's more please tell me)

Word Count: 4.3k

Part 1/2

Well, this was by far not how he expected his day to go, but...he never did like boring things. But maybe even this was a little too far a stretch to be seen as boredom relief. His time would've been better spent not getting in this situation. Honestly, the last thing he remembered was the pod of mer he lived with outcasting him by using a prank. He was brought out to the middle of nowhere and ditched. With that sort of result he didn't even bother trying to return…he'd had enough and been planning to leave soon anyway. Seeing as he didn't have any possessions, he simply swam away.

Then everything had started to darken. It hadn't been too concerning because looking around…there really wasn't anything there. No predators. So he continued on his way to the shore, hoping to travel through the shallows to find a new home rather than the open ocean. Only a pod could somewhat safely be in the open like this, not a lone mer. It hadn't been too long after until he discovered the water was shoving him around strangely. Lightly, at first. Then it quickly started to increase and his panic rose rapidly. If only he'd noticed that the oncoming darkness was the omen of a storm.

It swept him away helplessly, flailing through the water like a loose piece of kelp. He could faintly recall that it pushed him roughly in the direction of shore, yet another thing only making the water's abuse even worse. It was fully expected that the water's torrent would smash his rather frail body into the rocks lining the edges. Leave him stranded in a tidepool where he'd be picked at by predators. Maybe bury him in the sand where he'd have no hope of escape. It was at that point he'd crashed into something big and smooth, with a lot of clattering sounds all around him. Then it had gone black, the impact too much to withstand.

And that brings him to now. The sun was hot on his exposed skin, the water level steadily getting lower, and hotter. It felt like he was being boiled alive. He was trapped inside something. Something clear, that shifted and crinkled when he moved, and was rather uncomfortable. Sure, it had probably saved him from outright dying, but now he was too far from the water to even attempt tipping the thing over to escape. This was a rather precarious situation to find himself in. After waking up in here it had looked to be sunrise and the container was half full…but now the sun was directly above him, beating down on his vulnerable form while the water was so low he couldn't even fully submerge.

While half his body was in the water, he shifted around to try and rearrange a few more times and only got the same results each time. It was hopeless, so he worked on keeping his tail in the water as much as possible, refusing to believe he'd simply die here. There had to be a way out, even if that meant waiting for night to fall, when the tide would be higher. He might be out of water by then, but…it was likely his only chance of survival. Being out on the sand in the hot sun would both cook him and let his predators see he was there. That would be his end right then and there with how far he was. He may want out, but he wasn't suicidal.

Trying to think of what to do, more time was passing and the water was getting lower. It was maybe an hour or two later of him attempting to figure out freedom when there was a change. He was noticing that it was a little cooler, sparing him of losing all of the water, but that wasn't all. There was a new tremor motion the water reacted to. He blinked at the tiny, extra ripples his body wasn't causing. The ripples stayed that way but soon he realized they were getting bigger. Not long after, it came to his attention that he could feel a vibration traveling from the ground through the rest of his body. A rising dread filled him and he scrambled to try and see, holding himself up.

He couldn't see anything. Well…to be fair it looked like he was in a ditch, it'd be hard to see anywhere from this angle. The vibration stopped and he held his breath. Nothing. Was it gone? In his distraction however, he failed to notice that all his movement had drawn something after him. All of a sudden something crashed into his prison and he barely avoided calling out, biting his tongue and flailing for balance. He looked up in a hurry to face his attacker and froze. A bird. What even was this thing?? It was white but he didn't recognize it from the usual pelicans he'd seen where he used to live. Still, it was eyeing him like a new meal.

Stopping to wonder what it was might not have been his brightest idea as it was now sticking its beak inside the small opening, wings flapping wildly. The webbed feet pushed at the clear walls as he hurriedly pushed himself down, away from the threatening beak. He bared his teeth uselessly, but it made him feel a lot better. Truthfully all the motion was sickening and too chaotic to make right from left. It even made a loud, overbearing sound that made his head ring painfully. The noise echoed in this small space way too much and he slapped his hands over his ears reflexively. This was too much for him. He hadn't even started to escape yet…and he was being attacked.

Then the vibration from earlier came to his attention, much heavier than before. It made him bounce in place and even the bird reacted, looking at the cause and calling out again. Before much else happened, a new sound came to him, sounding like words, but way too loud to be words. It made the space around him shudder and the bird had left. He had to breathe for a moment before he even dared look up, bracing himself against the slick walls and gazing up just as a new shadow fell right before his clear cage. In some ways he'd wished he'd never looked up.

The owner of the massive shadow was just as huge, towering over him in a way he'd never seen before. His mind immediately supplied the word human. He'd been told about them, seen them from a distance…he knew they were bigger, but not like this. Why would he get stuck on the beach and run into one of them?! Did the world really hate him that much?! Unfair! Not to mention, humans were supposed to stay away from the area he'd been heading for. Had he really been swept so far off his intended path?? Anything was possible at his size in a storm that nasty, but going from stormy waters, to a bird, to a human, wasn't even bad luck. That's like an outright curse.

His thoughts were cut short when the giant being took a step closer to him, shaking the entire space and making him scramble to prevent faceplanting. It was coming closer. His dread didn't have time to build up before a hand came rushing towards his trap, one way too big for what seemed natural. Though he clawed at the smooth surface surrounding him, it was hopeless, the hand closing around it. He shuddered at the realization the hand went all the way around the bottle…he could see the fingers nearly connect. That was to say…he forgot what would happen when it's being grabbed.

Not even a second later, he was hoisted off the ground, making his stomach do a wild flip while he forced himself to stay calm. What if it wanted him to be scared? But when the space was tilted and the water began to flow away from him, he gave an involuntary yelp of surprise and looked around frantically. The tilt suddenly stopped and it went back to how it had been before, the water returning. This time when looking at the human, he found bright green, huge eyes that were both locked right on him. He fought back a shiver, meeting that, admittedly, intimidating gaze. The eyes widened and he froze up.

Way too dizzying fast, he was racing skyward, stopping only once level with the way too big face. Out of pure instinct he bared his teeth with a growl, pushing himself back against the opposite side. He pointedly ignored that the hand was on that side of it and that he could feel the warmth it gave off from inside. Except when he growled, he noticed a responding movement from above and his eyes snapped to it, only to go stiff and regret showing aggression. Those weren't the right ears. They were like triangles and kept swiveling around. Listening, he thought. He suppressed another shudder, instead choosing to glare at this giant and those horribly observant eyes.

He knew he was being stared at, his every move kept track of, but he was trying to wrack his brain for why those ears and unnerving eyes were familiar to him. There wasn't much time to think as that loud sound came at him again—the voice. Definitely a voice. He ignored the words. They were too distorted and loud to understand while stuck inside this thing anyway. Besides, he didn't want to hear the taunts or what it might be planning to do to him. He'd rather seem boring and be tossed back to the ground and ignored.

Except those eyes changed and almost looked…worried? He scowled at it, but the voice returned and everything was turning sideways at an agonizingly slow pace. His slow slide felt like torture, especially with how fast the water was already pouring past him, tugging him along faster than it was tipping. At this point all he could do was weakly scratch at it, feeling like he was being played with on his way towards the only opening. The last thing he tried was spreading his arms too wide to fit while trying to turn to keep his tail inside. If it fell out, the weight would just drag him down.

When he hit the opening he stuck, just as intended. A grim, victory smile plastered on his face as he fought to keep himself in this same position while looking to the side at the human. What he found was a look of surprise, but nothing happened. It was held in the same position, not moving even slightly. He thought he'd be shaken or something, but it never came. Instead, the voice came again, still not understandable from his position. It got quiet and motionless, as if the human was just waiting for him to change his mind or something. Not happening! That was when he noticed he was slipping. The giant jerk was waiting him out.

He growled in real anger at being treated this way, noticing those creepy ears moving as he made the sound. All he could see in those big eyes, was patience. A steady, calm, patience. Like this human already knew they'd win this. And they would, which only upset him even more. The problem was that he was still slipping, and steadily feeling like he needed to catch himself. Was he just going to fall to his death or what? Was the human dumping him out of the way? It was hard to say, but he was about to find out for himself. There wasn't even a shred of hope in his mind of holding on for longer than the human could wait…the surface and angle were simply too much and only half his body could be used to prevent it.

With one last squirm in an attempt to stay inside, he finally couldn't stay splayed anymore and fell headfirst out of the thing. His eyes screwed shut, certain he would plummet to his death…only for the result to be much less dramatic. The impact was muted, interrupted maybe only a second later by something soft that smelled heavily of herbs. For a moment all he could do was breathe, his heart racing painfully as his chest heaved from the scare. He didn't waste much time and after only a few breaths, he moved to figure out what exactly happened. Seeing it made him freeze up, his eyes landing on the tan colored, patterned floor beneath him. Skin.

Looking up while already know what would be there, his almost weary gaze trailed up the length of an arm all the way to the human's face. He was in the damn thing's hand. He inwardly groaned and pushed himself up while taking a deep breath, glancing at the fingers towering over him. A threat. It was mostly behind him and he let his head hang so he could simply see past his arms without it knowing where he was looking. It was hard to know what would happen if he was caught staring, and honestly? He'd rather be ended because he fought back, not for looking at something. That would be even worse than having been abandoned by his own pod using a prank. So he held his breath and looked up at that face again.

Then he immediately bit the hand beneath him. Hard. His aim was to draw blood at the very least, and he needed to do it before the human could stop him. The only response he seemed to get was a quiet whine of pain and a harsh flinch that nearly sent him off the hand. What stopped such a fate were the fingers, curling up over him. Without delay, since the other bite was already bleeding, he whipped around and sunk his teeth into one of those massive digits instead, his arms wrapping around it so his claws could dig in as well. He was fully aware that he couldn't win this, but that didn't stop him from trying.

What did make him pause was that finger separating itself from the rest slowly, followed by that much too loud voice ringing out above him. "Uhm…will you please let go…? That…it kinda hurts?" The voice was still too loud for him, but he could for the first time understand the words being spoken, even even what sounded like hesitation in the tone. Of course, his response to this comment was to bite even harder and snarl while he did, moving his head a little to trying twisting and make it worse. The human winced in pain, those ears drawing back as it instead muttered, "Yeah, okay, that's fair." He wanted the human to feel pain, why was it saying this was fair?!

His anger was boiling over and he grabbed onto it, using it to bury all the fear as he snapped his head to the side with an angry hiss, clawing at the finger he'd been biting before it bending forced him to let go. He fell back onto the palm, not really able to support himself with his tail. Wait. The human had a tail too. He narrowed his eyes while keeping his teeth bared as a few things clicked into place. He remembered an animal that had those ears, eyes, and tail. It was also very sharp in his mind that he'd seen it swiping fish out if the water and chasing any mer that got close. He didn't know the name, but this human looked like they were part animal. That animal. That eats fish. And probably mer too.

A very brief look of terror flashed through his eyes and he dug his claws into the palm a whole lot more to hurriedly turn it into anger. He looked this giant in the eye with as much Hate and rage as he could muster, his mind simmering as he ignored how the sun was slowly making his skin itch as it dried him out. With one deep breath, he practically screamed out, "THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO?! STOP STARING AND JUST DO SOMETHING DAMNIT! YOU'RE TOO LOUD AND TOYING WITH ME! IF YOU'RE GOING TO DO SOMETHING TO ME, JUST DO IT!" His sudden volume was plenty loud enough to make those freaky animal ears go down and it felt like his own personal victory.

Until the hand finally moved. He was going up, being brought right to that face. It was impossible to fully get rid of a shudder as his eyes widened. Was he going to die now? His mouth did usually get everyone mad at him. He'd actually asked for this one though, but…he looked at the closed mouth of the face he was rapidly approaching. Was the giant going to eat him like that animal did that fish? He turned his head away to hide his face while not wanting to see what would happen to him. It was over. He'd purposely yelled at the human and said to get it over with. It was only a moment later that he felt the huge digits behind him start to close in on him. He didn't even flinch.

He was expecting to die somehow, but the human decided to speak again. "What?? You…do you think I want to hurt you? I'm sorry I was too loud…did I really scare you that badly? I wasn't trying really hard not to—" Why was this stupid giant prolonging his death? But they just continued their ramble. "—but I…I messed up? What did I do? How do I fix it? Is there something you want?" The voice was growing increasingly higher pitched and they were talking way too fast. He growled inwardly, despising that he had to listen to such idiotic lies after begging to die. Did it really thing he was that stupid? That he wasn't just some fun creature to toy with and leave to die? Lies.

He raised his head back up to stare his likely killer in the eyes, only to find out they were right in front of him. He had soared past the mouth and even the nose, being held so perfectly level with the eyes that he couldn't avoid noticing their emotions. With a shiver he didn't even try to contain, he scrambled backwards only to realize those fingers were holding him in place. His eyes were rounded at this revelation, merely glad to see his tail was at least still against the palm and not just hanging. If relieved was the right thing to feel, rather, when he was terrified. What else could he feel when staring into eyes each bigger than his head. Happiness??

Finally though, the hand moving snapped him out of it right as the human softly asked, "Hey, are you okay? Can't you speak?" Alright, so now he was going to be seen as some stupid animal that didn't even have intelligence? Like he'd allow that.

With yet another ferocious snarl, he growled, "Get the fuck away from me." His voice felt despairingly weak and he swallowed hard. Having to meet these eyes like this was…so uncomfortable. It frayed his nerves and played with his mind. The eyes looked too guilty. He leaned away. "Just…just leave me alone or kill me already. I don't want to play these games anymore." He was scared, but his tone still came out full of rage.

The huge eyes only got bigger as they widened, full of what looked to borderline horror. "Kill you?! I'm not going to kill you!" The human shouldn't be sounding so scared of his words. They should be getting mad, yelling at him, hurting him. But nothing was happening. Instead, he rapidly found himself tumbling back down into the hand, which now became two, simply cupped together. It wasn't right to be held like he was breakable. He glared at the human. They just wouldn't stop trying to mess with him.

Without thinking it through, he snapped, "Why not?! You're bigger than me, you're a predator, I shouldn't even still be alive except to be a handy little plaything for your own entertainment!" Nothing was said in response, everything going quiet. The human was…silenced? By his worthless and weak voice? This game was getting absurd and the look of pity he was receiving only served to make him retaliate with anger. He bit the hand again, trying as hard as he possibly could to be dropped or finally killed or something.

A wince of pain, but then nothing. He growled and twisted his head, eliciting a gasp and a following whine from right beside him. "Please don't do that…" Not long after, the other hand stopped being a floor for him and tilted up to cover him from above. He stopped and bit a different spot, feeling his eyes burn from tears he refused to allow free. This was it. The human was finally going to end it, by…crushing him. He finally got what he wanted…why did it make him want to escape from it? To never have asked for this? But no pain came. It was darkened, but stopped there, the other hand harmlessly held over him, making it almost reminiscent of a cave…if the walls were made of tanned flesh that kept moving around him. A muffled voice came to him next with, "I'll just put you back in the ocean…"

A spike of fear at the thought of returning, and yet he could already feel the human moving, making him roll slightly while struggling to stay in place. He stopped biting, now more intent on keeping himself still and not being given back to the ocean. Sure he'd been planning to escape there, but if he was for some reason getting free transport he wanted something else. A river or stream, something to make his boring life have some sort of meaning to it. This felt more like he'd be discarded this way than freed into it. He wasn't going to say or do anything, but his racing heart won. "WAIT WAIT WAIT!"

Everything immediately stilled and he had to cling to the skin under him to not go rolling away. He wanted to relax and maybe try to figure out why he'd said to wait, but the human of course had to butt in on it. "Don't you live there? I'll put you back, are you sure?" He inhaled sharply, thinking about being in the exposed shallows with the sheer number of those strange birds from earlier hanging around. He'd seen how many there were already. If he was put back in, not only would he be back in the place he'd grown to hate, he'd become food. Dying by the hand of a giant sounded much better than temporary, fake freedom, followed by being eaten.

He moved a bit, wincing silently at how dry his tail was feeling. "...I don't want to be in the ocean. Do whatever you want with me, just get rid of me already, but not the ocean…" He should've been asking for the ocean, not to stay away from it. This was stupid. Why would the human even listen? All he did was give it a new way to hurt—

"Okay, I won't." He stiffened greatly. Won't what? The voice sounded almost resigned with those words, making his already raised guard bristle with discomfort. Before he could demand an answer though, they spoke again, "I'll just…take you home. You're probably needing some water about now and my skin can't be helping that, not to mention it's really hot out today, huh? And it's not like there's any other water sources around…I don't even know what else you want if you don't want the ocean. Maybe you'll tell me once you're not so dried up?" He blinked at the half darkness as he listened to the disembodied voice from beyond the walls of hand.

The human was…just going to keep him? Probably to be able to toy with him better. Tools and other gadgets at their home to make his fate even worse. With an air of defeat over knowing he couldn't possibly claw his way out of the prison of hands, he hung his head. "...fine." His voice was quiet but with those ears? No doubt the human heard him. Fine. He'd accept this fate, but he'd go down fighting. He could already feel this giant moving again. For now however, he let his eyes drift shut, exhausted from his struggle and not sure if he'd even wake up later. Not without digging his claws in for good measure, smiling in grim satisfaction at the pained response he got.

Words rang out above him, "Alright, then let's go! I'll take and get a good look at you to make sure you're not injured and try to find a good place for you to stay!" That cheery voice was going to be the death of him, in more ways than one. Yet, that was the last thing he heard before his mind shut itself off. Oh well. Time to leave his fate to the mercy of this strange, giant being…even if it meant he'd die.

Maybe he wouldn't.

———

Part 2

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your-littlesecret · 6 months ago

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so.

haven't done this in a loooooooooooong time

there's a whole ass outline of this fic but I don't think I'll ever sit my ass and write it so here is the beginning and ending of cursed piarles. vaguely inspired by 'guilt as sin?'

107 BC - Ancient Greece

Charles always remembers the beach first. The beach and the happiness.

There was sand under his feet and laughter bubbling out of his mouth, the ocean water was warm when it covered his feet from time to time.

At first, it’s just that one scene, that one memory: Charles is running on the beach, laughing and looking back to where Pierre is chasing him, the feeling of his hands on Charles’ almost bare skin when he finally catches him. They are happy there and Charles can almost touch that happiness, the ease they have with each other.

And then everything else comes crashing down when fragments of other memories show up in quick succession.

The emergency meeting, where Zeus had told them Pierre would need to marry another lesser God, the protests, the hurt in his face and his denial. He kept a tight hold of Charles’ hand at all times.

It was dark when Pierre appeared at his doorstep, only the clothes in his body and asking Charles to run with him. Charles felt both alive and terrified at the same moment – disobeying a greater god, running away from the fate imposed on Pierre, on them.

Pierre had slipped a necklace in Charles’ neck, had kissed the pendant and demanded Charles not to take it off, ever. “This way they won’t be able to find us.”

He had taken Charles into the abandoned temple and made him feel worshiped like a God should be in such places.

And then he did that every night after, for the next three months. The days were spent either on the beach, skin going red and golden under the sun, or in the forest, picking small fruits and whatever they could find to eat.

It had been 3 months in their small paradise until she showed up, dressed in her sharp white tunic, the face of beauty that carried anger and despair this time. Charles trembled at her sight, and Pierre turned to look what could have caused that.

He looked back at Charles with desperation etched in each small crevice of his face, eyes apologetic and a ‘i love you’ being desperately pressed against the skin of Charles’ face.

Aphrodite is not merciful. She might be the goddess of love, but she uses that and her immaculate appearance to her advantage – no one would expect the viciousness and the harsh punishments that hide behind a sweet voice and kind smiles.

This… Charles can’t even begin to formulate a good enough punishment for what they have done. All this time he knew, deep down, that their time was limited, but he never thought it would be so much.

3 months was all they had, but whatever happens, Charles will always cherish the time they got to be together.

At first, she was silent – if this was anyone else, they would’ve started to beg, to profess their undying devotion just to get a lesser punishment. But Charles has come to terms with his fate.

And fate is, ironically, her own reasoning for the curse – they can’t deceive fate just because it isn’t working alongside their wishes.

Charles can see, though, deep in her eyes – a hint of pride, of astonishment, and Charles knows why.

Love.

Whatever they did, it was purely in the name of their love, and that she can respect – it is her specialty, after all, and she would be damned before she would let it slip unnoticed. Charles thinks she might have asked for this, to be the one to come to them.

Maybe she knew Charles would understand what it meant.

It had been bright and sunny before, but as Aphrodite spoke, the sudden darkness enveloped them slowly.

--------

Charles is just so tired he wonders if it’s worth it – any of this, a thousand lives lived only to die once more, in the arms of his love.

Not Pierre. He knows Pierre is worth it, he has died a thousand times to meet him again, and he would do a thousand more just to feel his hands on his one more time, his soft lips trailing paths on his skin one more time.

Charles had cried countless times, had tried it all to break the curse. Aphrodite’s words still rang in his ears now, even if it’s been milenia since he last saw her on that deserted beach, even as the water level increases and the boat sinks ever so lazily.

It was a desperate attempt, Pierre had pressed a kiss to the place he does every lifetime – the crease of his thigh, right on top of that birthmark that vaguely resembles a heart – and had whispered into Charles’ skin everything Charles had been feeling too.

“I am so tired, so empty. There is only one thing I am always certain of, one single feeling that fills my whole being and keeps me from ending every life earlier on my own terms. I love you, Chares, I adore you and I would live an endless life if I could worship you as you deserve for all of it.

But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep living when the only certainty I have is that I’ll see you die in my arms, over and over and over.”

Pierre had been sobbing by then, face pressed against the warmth of Charles’ skin and there was nothing he could do besides run a hand through his hair and hug him closer.

“I wish we could end this. I would do anything to stop this, for our essences to find peace together. I would give up not being able to touch you again if it meant you found peace.”

Charles hadn’t told Pierre just yet how he managed to regain his powers in this life, he was waiting for the right time to do so.

Except the right time was right then, when Charles used the strength within himself to open a crack in the yacht’s hull and let nature do its job.

Pierre had been asleep by then, arms tightly secured around Charles.

“I will protect you with all that’s left of my being, I will die trying to find you peace.”

The first thing Charles sees when he opens his eyes is the sun, shining through the yacht’s little window.

The second thing Charles sees is Aphrodite.

#bubbles posts #bubbles write tag #piarles #f1 rpf fic #f1 rpf #piarles fic

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wh0-1s-m1aaaa · 2 years ago

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Js a lil treat for my scream 1996 lvrs :)🤍

Notes: this is my first time writing on here pls be nice :( ANYWAYS here’s a lil blurb of them at the beach :D

Honestly kind of randy centered for plot sake and a bit of sarcastic bimbo reader sprinkled in for flavor and like I didn’t really finish this so I mighttttt make this 2 parts (pls don’t murder me pookies💔)

Platonic!AFAB! reader x main 5

Word count: roughly 1000

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• in a world where they (sid, tate, billy, Stu, and ray) where all *platonic* besties: they plan a beach day in the nearest town with a beach about 2 hours out.

•Tatum has Sidney and randy in her red buggy. While stu has billy and y/n in his Nisan skyline with his serf-board zip tied uptop.

•The reason they ride in separate cars in both due to space and Stu’s music taste💀. Tatum and Sidney have every piece of beach equipment known to man settled in her buggy and this takes up about 3/4 of a car by itself, leaving Sid the passenger seat and randy stuck between 3 sets of chairs and an umbrella. As for Stu, he listens to the trashiest, cheesiest, pop music you have ever heard on full blast the ENTIRE time. Even with you and billy complaining (billy isn’t so much complaining as he is annoyed and turning the volume down and Stu keeps turning it back up) and swearing your ears are bleeding the entire time😭.

•Once you guys FINALLY get to said beach randy is forced to go and find a spot for y’all to set up base. (through vigorous complaining ofc, but he gave in after Sidney asked) he then proceeded to search for all of 5-7 minutes before picking a spot randomly after getting tired of stepping on seashells and almost tripping on what used to be a sand castle and is now a lump of sand. He comes back to you guys (out of breath and on the verge of death bc he is a lanky babygirl of a man) and tells u guys to scope out the spot he found.

You all decided it was good enough and started unpacking the hoard of beach equipment, well you, Sidney, and Tatum at least. Randy is turning red already and was forced to put on sunblock. Billy is just standing off to the side with his arms crossed watching you guys set up, so helpful right? And Stu ran to the water the second he dropped the umbrella and god knows what else he carried in the sand and left with a simple “see y’all byeeeeeee” (and he was gone😔💔)

After what seemed like at least a millennium you guys where finished unpacking. Tatum was trying to tan, Sidney was on a towel under the umbrella reading a book, billy found the boardwalk through his smartypants context clues and like the incel teen he is went on his merry way to find some girls (and possibly a guy) to talk too. Randy is basically off at sea searching for Stu bc he needed him for something or other. Meanwhile Stu is nowhere to be seen in at least a 30 mile radius (why randy is searching for him? Let alone In the OCEAN? You have no idea.) you where simply watching randy in the water slowly drifting farther from your home base with no sense of direction (genius huh?) and laughing at him to yourself.

After randy wandered WAYYYYY too far out you got up to yell for him because if he goes out any further he will be in the news by tomorrow morning as the dumbest man in woodsburo. He heard you after about the 7th call and yelled he was looking for Stu, intriguing to you considering he and Stu never really actively go on hunts for each other, but regardless, you call out to him saying he’s too far out and as if you said the magic words a big fat wave crashed down on randy. And like the smart cookie you are decide to ALSO get in the water and save him from drowning (super sexy hot funny life saver y/n🥰🥰😻) so you Scurry up to the water in your hot pink 2 piece bikini (or wtv you want ofc) and like the badass you are, you don’t find him, BUT he does find you. “JESUS randy you scared me, I thought you where like a kraken or something” “y/n were in knee deep water your fine” randy said to which you replied and ended the out of breath conversation with a simple “still”. Both of you are looking like wet poodles and the rough waves crash against the 2 of you for a hot second before the seemingly second sense kicked in and you both look to land only to find yourself on (seemingly) the “other side of the damn world” as randy stated.

“Do you know where we are now y/n” randy said “no…..BUT I don’t think we could have drifted to far from our little camp. And uh Sidney or Tatum probably saw so no need to worry” “okay then so we should probably get out of the water and start trying to find them or the camp” he said casually slightly calmed from the reassurance you laced your words with “that would probably be a good idea” (and so you and Mr Meeks are now slowly but surely making your way onto the hot sand to hunt down the wizard of ozz and find your way home😻).

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Okay so yea this is a 2 parter I’m srry my brain is having the worst writers block and I’m running off 2 hours of sleep,a granola bar, Wawa cold brew coffee, and hopes and dreams. Anyways to the porn bots and my 5 real followers I love yawl 😻😻♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

#scream #stu macher #scream 1996 #Sidney #tatum riley #billy #billy loomis #randy meeks #scream 1996 x reader #beach fic #x reader #platonic #could be more later on but I’m lazy

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strawberry-seal77 · 2 years ago

Note

What’s Endling even about? *Hands you a ticket that says ‘Insert Rant (/pos) here*

OHOHO A RANT TICKET YOU SAY WELL

Fair warning, this is a 3 book series, so uh itll be long I'll split the books into different posts maybe

Also there's death. Like a good amount of it

Endling (as it starts) is about a Dairne named Byx!

Dairnes are like dogs, but are bipedal, have thumbs, and have glissaries (bits for gliding).

They're one of the 9 leading species, which are those that can both perform theurgy (magic) and speak common tongue.

Byx, like any other of her species, can tell truth from lies, in the same way you can hear when a note is off in a scale. If someone does not believe what they're saying, a dairne can tell.

And this makes Dairnes dangerous.

(rant continues below hehe)

The books start in a place called Neddara, bordering Dreyland as well as a large ocean

And the Murando, the ruler in an England sort of way, is trying to exterminate Dairnes. Lying is no good when a dog can call you out, yeah?

(this is introduced really well, by showing how Dairnes have changed from their traditional life of nesting in trees and living diurnally, so nocturnal and constantly moving in hiding.)

so anyways Byx is the runt of her litter, the weakest, always distracted. And she wanders off into a nearby forest. She's never seen the ocean before, just a quickkk peak!

She hears a classic dairne call, but catches a falseness in it. Continuing on, she sees the super cool view of the ocean! And also a band of hunters! Whoops!

So anyways theres just a WOBBYK in a TINY BOAT which is gonna SMASH INTO THE ROCKS OH NO

Byx, on one side hunters, on the other a hungry ocean, takes a leap of faith and grabs the wobbyk, using the force of her dive to just BARELY make it to another landing place. Sadly, the hunters saw.

(side note, wobbyks are these guys)

gonna move quicker soon I swear

ANYWAYS

Turns out the Wobbyk is named Tobble! Also the hunter's pathfinder sees them through a bush and does a little thing called not snitching.

They run back to Byx's pack but OOPS all dead! Murando soldiers, in uniform (obviously on the clock) murdered them!

Byx is obviously distraught, angry and devastated and guilty and a lot of other stuff! However no time for that! there's an arrow in her side! the hunting group's little pathfinder boy has caught 'er, and is taking Byx! Oh no!

Blah blah, tied up on a horse, cutting the arrow out (it was barbed 3:), going back to a cave. The dairne and human get aquainted.

Human's named Khara, weird name for a boy, right? THATS BECAUSE SHE ISNT :D. Classic crossdressing in medieval times to get a job.

Byx tries to escape with Tobble, gets captured by snakes, Khara saves them with the bargain that Byx needs to not try to escape again, and they're on their way!

hehe okay now we'll be a bit more zoomed out

So they get going to La Cora Di Schola (aka the heart of scholars, bc it's shaped like a human heart) And waddaya know, there's a eulogy! For dairnes! A 'mourning' (psscht, more like celebration) for the death of Dairnes. Which is a bit conflicted considering Byx is a dairns

So they go to meet this one scientist, but he's actually chaotic neutral so he tries to have Byx killed so she doesnt crash the Eulogy. She meets Gambler (Felivet, pretty much a panther) and they escape and crash the party. Also Khara and some apprentice pretend to be in love to escape guards.

Everyone's on the run, eventually they get to the Murando. they get put in prison btw, because the apprentice was a meanyhead and tattled to the Murando.

Byx does a thing called Lying to the authorities (good for her) and gets them a royal guard to go find more dairnes. Which is good bc there's a knight with living fire as a friend trying to kill them.

They get the fire knight and the other guys to fight, and run away. Back to adventure, yippee! btw they're looking for this one living island because it's where they think they can find more Dairnes. Anyways they get really really close to finding it

but then the fucking fire guy with his stupid fire magic is STILL following them, so they build a trap in record time and he falls into it because he's showy and burned down a vine wall before looking past it. he falls on spikes and dies :3

Tobble gets his tail braiding ceremony, a show of respect when a wobbyx performs an act of bravery. He's really happy!

Anyways that's as far as I for about 2 years, because my school library only had book 1. And then I got back into it recently, I'll explain more if you want :3

Also im making an entire other post for Khara because I want to >:3

#death tw #death #animal death #all the things im warning for are under the cut btw #katherine applegate endling #khara is getting her own post because shes just cool like that #owl idk if this is what you asked for but uh I like endling

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meatriarch · 2 months ago

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same anon that was talking about raph earlier but if you’re comfortable with it i’m just being curious about him. did he have a fascination with the ocean when he was younger and that’s why he wanted to do underwater welding or was that a direction someone pointed him to? has he ever wanted to get any tattoos? what type of music does he like (doesn’t have to be time period related because if i could i’d introduce the lad to korn)

oh id love to yap more about my son, nonnie! ♡ thankyou for sending these!!

so raph initially started here as danilo ( now his middle name ) or, my version of danny gaines. and partly due to that and bc while i dont necessarily outright ship danny x julie i did attribute both pre-raph dan & julie to ocean aesthetics together! where julie was more those bright, soft blue shorelines and coral reefs and gentle crashing waves to raphs' harsher storms at sea, the dark depths below the surface, the unknown and unpredictability that comes with descending deeper into the darkening blue.

now that i have him separated from that tie back to gaines and hes an oiriginal character in his own right? his connection to the ocean i feel came from when his mom was still in the picture. raph is mexican-colombian and most of his maternal side of the family lives there still, hes never met them. but i imagine they live close along the coastlines of colombia - possibly around / nearby barranquilla! but i imagine his mom used to tell him all sorts of stories from home, of the beaches and the seaports, of the magdalena river ( smiles in maria alias mention ), all kinds of things. i think part of him, as much as raph puts on a good stone-face and doesnt show or speak on his family alot - i do think he misses his mom, more than he lets on. and the ocean in part is a small reconnect back to her, the family he never got to know, the younger half-sister he only recently found out about before the house events happened.

i think those connections drew him to the ocean first and foremost. and then, after graduating hs, which he just managed to given his history, he didnt feel confident he would make it into any proper university, like maria did. he didnt trust that his past wouldnt bite him in the ass. so, when he gotten information on trade schools, he went that route. and when he saw mentions about welding generally? that caught his attention. the port & underwater welding came after that, and although it drives him away from the flores', although it draws him hours from austin & his friends, he found a love in what he did with his trade. he enjoys it, it has the potential to earn real good. hes found something that to him, gives him purpose to a point. its something hes achieving, something he can be proud of for himself. and something that, though he doesnt admit it, makes him incredibly happy when he hears those same sentiments from maria, from ana, from mama flores. from their friends.

so i think its a mix of both! he had a pull to the sea bc of his mom as a way to connect back to her, even subconsciously. and was specifically pointed towards underwater welding as he was looking at different trades to work towards instead of fighting to get accepted into a uni!

he does have some tattoos!! i do fear i may have to go looking for specific ones to kinda reference to but! he has bergamot flowers on his left shoulder silhouetting an elk - which, elks have several meanings / myths regarding topics like strength, endurance, survival, protection, and devotion even if it brings death. bergamots are often used as a reminder that you, alone, are the only authority over your life. it serves to reaffirm to the receiver that they are empowered to their own free will as they navigate through life. and its a flower that maria, when he was released from juvie following his arrest in his teens had added into a 'welcome home!' type-bouquet she'd picked to give him when he got out. they're now a reminder for himself to keep that meaning in mind. his right arm also has a somewhat more light-hearted possum tattoo. he likely has more but those are some of his more notable ones ^_^

and for music yesssss!!!! raph would definitely listen to korn LMAO he's got at least one of their songs on one of his playlists im sure! he's definitely more inclined towards rock / metal / etc than anything! ^_^ which bc im silly & like to share, i'll list some of his playlists here :

mixtape - what plays through his radio. ode to maria - to be as soft as you. general raph vibes - throat-torn dog. dire verse - choke chained.

& then for the real funsies of it all,

raph & johnnys friendship vibes - raphjohnathan. all the boys - boys night!

raph is generally the kind that listens to rock but also especially angry rock LMAO guy uses it to yknow. let off steam without punching something.... or.. someone-

#[ ♡ ] ── * raphael a-o. / 𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦.#<3 hehe thankyou for these questions i had fun answering them for my boy nonnie!!

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opulentcherries · 8 months ago

Text

i’ll look for you in the waves

asked my gc to give me a prompt bc i was itching to write and this is it:

warnings: drowning (kind of???), female ocs, sapphic, mermaids, supernatural, deep ocean, mentions of drinking (i can’t think of anything else fr) lowercase intended!!!

playlist

hope u guys like it i haven’t posted writing on tumblr in like 6 and a half years omfg

before

they knew they shouldn’t be out here. they knew the tide was too high, knew their parents would be mad. but the way the wind whipped against the bedroom door was too inviting.

they’d been laying in the same twin bed as always, tiny bodies pressed tight, talking about the future when it happened. when they shoved their feet in their flip-flops and snuck out to the sea.

they’d always loved the ocean. growing up with the beach in their backyard had made them addicted to it. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the feeling of floating and feeling like such a small, weightless thing in a vast ocean— even the way they could feel every single granule of sand between their toes. It was magical.

“I wish we could stay right here forever.” says sloane, arms wrapped around her legs, cheek pressed to her knee.

“we’re always here, anyway.” celia says, looking at her best friend a little funny.

“that’s not what I mean.” sloane, the slender, tall girl with deep brown hair and dark skin explains. “I mean right here. In this moment.”

“you big sap.” celia says, auburn hair falling down in ringlets around her chubby face. even with those words, she slides closer to her friend, her best friend, and puts her head on sloane’s tiny shoulder.

they watch the moon with peaked interest. they’d been friends all their life. since the moment they’d come into this world, it’s been them; celia and sloane. sloane and celia.

“the moon is extra bright tonight.” sloane observes in awe. she’s entranced by it. something about it is pulling her in.

“extra full too.” celia replies. they stay there a little longer.

suddenly, sloane watches as her friend jumps up, kicking up sand with the movements. celia laughs her signature laugh, loud and bright, before taking off toward the water.

“celia!” sloane calls her best friend, voice being swallowed by the wind. “we can’t swim! the tide!”

“oh come on, berry,” the nickname only celia could use sounds so convincing to sloane’s ears. “nobody knows the beach like we do. we’ll be fine.” there’s no pause in her movements. just the sound of maniacal laughter and splashes.

sloane feels her skin prick with nervousness. their parents had always told them to watch the tide. to be careful, because as beautiful as it is, the ocean knows no bounds, and takes no prisoners.

before she knew what was happening, the girl is chasing her best friend fast and deep through the water, trying to catch up as quick as she can. she calls celia as she sees her dove under, over and over again, but can see and hear nothing except the roar of the waves in her ears.

she starts to panic.

“celia! cee, where are you?” she’s sifting through the water with fervor, thinking it’s been a little too long since she’d seen her friend.

just as she’s about to scream again, she feels arms around her back, and someone pulling her up and slightly out of the water.

“gotcha!” celia says as sloane turns when she’s dropped. celia’s ringlets cling to her pale face haphazardly, and her mouth is open in a wide grin. with sparkling eyes, she says, “you were totally scared.”

sloane doesn’t know why, but tears prick at her eyes. she’d always been the softer, shyer one. always been the one that took things a little more seriously. which was a concept that never affected celia.

sloane shoves her best friend, eyes wide. “that’s not funny! I thought you fucking died!” it’s frantic, from the way sloane’s breathing to the way that she keeps pushing. “i couldn’t see you, I couldn’t hear you! I mean god, celia I couldn’t find you. what is your problem?!”

celia didn’t think she’d react like this. she almost makes a joke about how much she thinks sloane is overreacting, but the way the girl’s bottom lip quivers stops her. she really scared her.

“i’m sorry, berry.” she swims forward, wrapping her arms around the most important person in her world. “i didn’t mean it. i’m okay. don’t cry. i’m right here.”

they float there for a second, water to their shoulders, waiting for sloane’s racing heart to slow.

“i’ll kill you myself if you ever do that to me again, shells.” the girl mumbles. celia pulls back and smiles. sloane could never stay mad at her. especially if she used her nickname.

“celia! sloane! get in here now!” the girls look over across the beach, seeing celia’s now open door, her mom standing with a cardigan wrapped around her to shield herself from the harsh winds.

they groaned in unison. they were so grounded.

then, the inexplicable happens. one moment, they’re moving towards the shore to their inevitable punishment, the next, sloane is screaming celia’s name.

a wave, bigger than the girls had ever seen in their entire lives, barrels through the water, coming right toward them.

“sloane! sloane we need to swim right now!” celia grabs her arm, yanking her through the water. but sloane had always been a little slower in the water than celia, and celia still can’t touch the floor.

so when the wave finally reaches them and slams them under water, their hands are ripped apart and their bodies sent tumbling.

celia feels the water filling her lungs, feels the tide pulling her under, but she doesn’t care. all she can think about is where sloane is. if she’s come up for air yet. if she’s okay.

celia kicks her legs, clawing to get back to the surface. when she breaks it, she coughs and sputters. “sloane!” she screams. “help! please sloane, where are you?”

there’s nothing but high pitched frequency, then a pained, terrified plea. she sees sloane further back, flailing her arms rapidly. her eyes look haunted, like she’d seen a ghost. “shells, i can’t stay up anymore. i’m so scared.”

celia is crying now, “i’m coming, berry. i swear i’m coming. just keep floating.”

but just as fast as the last wave, another comes. and no matter how fast she is, how much she wants to get to her friend, the ocean doesn’t wait for anyone.

the wave hits.

then there’s nothing.

celia wakes up a little bit later, soaking wet and freezing cold, in her father’s arms, right there on the beach.

her mother’s crying on the phone and sloane is no where to be seen. she feels the pit form in her stomach. one look at her dad and she knows.

the beach would never be the same again.

now

the wind is unrelenting as she drives through town. she pushes her hair out of her face, for maybe the sixteenth time in the last ten minutes, fingers anxiously tapping the wheel.

the music is a low hum, not nearly loud enough to drown out the thoughts in her head. she wants to turn it up, but she deserves to drown today. so she doesn’t.

ten years. ten years to the day she lost her best friend to the ocean. ten years, and celia can feel the pain all the same.

her life changed that day. it’s funny, really. the way that she’s spent the entire first twelve years of her life at the beach every day. soaking up the sun, playing in the sand and wading the water.

now, she can barely look at it without her insides trying to come up.

for the first year, she went outside every day. searching. when the water would still, she would walk the expanse of the shore, until there was no where left to look. she’d even take her surfboard out and sit, in the middle of the ocean and wait. wait for sloane. for her sweet laugh to sound through the air or her pretty hair to pop up from under the water. she’d sit out there and call to her.

there was always nothing. the police looked. the coast guard was called. helicopters, search boats, the whole nine. she knew it was unrealistic, but something in her heart was convinced that if anyone was going to find sloane, it’d be celia. it was always like that. they’d find each other anywhere.

despite the facts, nobody blamed her. they were curious kids in love with the ocean. sloane’s parents, who’d basically raised celia too, still loved her to bits. they still sent cards and gifts on her birthday. still called on sloane’s. they came to her graduation.

but celia could barely face them. no matter how many times they’d talked about it. their love was unwavering. celia wished they hated her. she told her mom, a little after her seventeenth birthday, when celia was a little too drunk to stand.

“i’m fine, theo.” celia slurs, feet shuffling on the floor. her older brother held her up as her head rolled side to side.

they’d seen each other at some party. celia usually controlled herself better in public, especially since the incident. gone was the wild child that threw caution into the wind. she was careful, concise. she planned everything out to the last detail. recklessness did not equate to freedom, and since that day she lived by that.

but one thing since then that had not changed was her unrelenting stubbornness. she tried not to let the whispers get to her. after the first year, they’d mostly stopped. she’d learned to fold the looks and wicked jabs down until they were tiny enough to store in her heart for later. and only until she was in the quiet of her room, would she unpack them and fall apart. it’d been five years now. she wasn’t naive. she knew that what happened to her best friend was the biggest news to happen in their small beach town. she knew that even if she didn’t hear it, people still talked.

what she didn’t know, is that the words of some drunk bitch new to town would cut her deep enough to dissipate the iron clad resolve she’d built.

“that girl’s hot,” some guy said, as celia walked through the door of her lab partner’s house.

she didn’t pay him or the group, four guys and three girls, any mind as she searched for a friend anywhere.

one of the girls scoffed. another girl said, “i wonder if she’s okay. the anniversary just passed.”

celia felt her shoulders tense. she didn’t know if they knew she could hear everything. “what anniversary?” the last girl asked.

one of the guys interjected. “i always forget not everyone grew up here.” there’s a pause. and then, “five years ago last week, celia and her best friend sloane were swimming at the beach behind celia’s house. well, the tide was high, waves were gnarly and sloane got swept under. never seen again.”

“what the fuck?” the girl gasped, and celia could feel the eyes on her.

“yeah, it was wicked sad. they were close as close could be. basically girlfriends. celia used to be super crazy and loud and shit. and after that, she was always quiet.”

then he laughed. the fucker laughed. as if it was funny that celia’s days were haunted by the stupidest decision a person could make. as if she didn’t feel a sloane sized hole in her heart with every night she cried.

and because being stubborn came so easily to her, and so did drinking after the first three shots, she set herself on a vindicated mission of self destruction.

next thing she knew, theo is helping her up the steps of their house, and her mind is spinning. they walk past the living room and the last thing she expects to see is tamela baylor, sitting with a glass of wine next to her mother.

“celia? oh my god,” her mother scoops her from her son’s arms, arms on her waist to steady her. but celia could stand now. she was wide awake. too aware for her body.

she stared at sloane’s mom with wide, doe eyes. tamela stands, coming towards her with a gentle sadness in her eyes.

“some assholes were talking about her and sloane.” she hears theo say, and she wants to scream at him to shut up, but the words won’t come. “i found her on the floor of the kitchen like this.”

“celia, honey. it’s okay, let’s get you to bed-“ tammy says, but the girl is rooted to her spot. she’d seen her countless times since it happened. talked to her even. but she never said much. what could she say to the only other person who knew how badly this hurt?

“shells, i think-“ and that set her off. she doesn’t even know who said it, but it was too much. she rips herself from her mothers hold.

“do not fucking call me that.” her voice is loud, too loud for the room.

her grief is palpable. it spins through her stomach and clouds her eyes, making her blink rapidly. “i don’t deserve that name anymore.”

“oh celia.” someone is crying.

“it’s my fault. i was so stupid.” celia’s body shakes viciously.

“you were a child, honey.” her mother says. trying to reach to her. celia backs away. she didn’t deserve to be held.

“i was an idiot.”

“let me take you to your room, cee.” theo grabs her, and it feels like drowning all over again. she falls to the floor then, vision going slightly black again.

“no. no. no.” she’s hyperventilating now. “it should’ve been me. it’s my fault. she should be here. it should have been me.”

and then sloane’s mom is sinking to her knees in front of her, holding her as she sobs and sobs. as she kills herself in her mind over and over again. as she brokenly apologizes over and over for taking sloane from her. tamela only strokes her hair and tells her how much sloane loved her. how much she was loved.

it haunts her memories for the remainder of time.

celia doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting in front of the baylor house with her engine off. she can’t make her legs move as the memory comes and goes. she shouldn’t be here. and even though she knows they’d love to see her, she can’t be in the same room as her best friend’s parents without feeling like something akin to the grim reaper.

but today isn’t a day to feel sorry for herself, not when she’s in front of sloane’s parents house. so she grabs the flowers, and the two gift boxes and trudges out her car.

she has a key, but she never uses it. she knocks the same every time, three short raps, to let them know who’s here.

it’s a blur of pleasantries and soft sadness when they open the door. celia hugs them, a little tighter than normal, handing them the flowers that have become a bittersweet routine. she hands them their gift, because she always gets them and sloane a gift on anniversary days. teary eyed, they thank her and tell her they love her. she whispers it back, before heading to sloane’s room.

it’s completely untouched. the only new additions are the multiple gifts from celia over the years. birthdays, christmases, friendship anniversaries. the custom graduation sash and cap that celia made for her when she graduated high school.

a lot of people spend time at sloane’s grave. celia hasn’t been there since the funeral. she doesn’t remember her friend like that. she prefers to stay right here, holed up in this room.

celia sinks her now adult body in the small bed, holding the stuffed tiger shark plush she got sloane when she turned fourteen. most times she talks to her. but today, today celia’s body is so heavy that all she can do is cry.

she’s back in the ocean. the same wave, the same terror, the same weight in her chest.

“sloane!” she screams. “help! please sloane, where are you?”

it’s all painfully the same. the same defeat in sloane’s voice, same heart wrenching look in her eyes. “shells, i can’t stay up anymore. i’m so scared.”

celia is crying again, “i’m coming, berry. i swear i’m coming. just keep floating.”

this part is different now, though. cause when the last waves hits, and celia is pulled under, her eyes are now open. the water is so dark and she can’t get her eyes to adjust. she’s not the same kind of scared anymore. there’s something pulling her deeper, but her lungs aren’t burning like before.

there’s a faint shadow in the gloom of the water. a radiant, bright yellow and orange silhouette swimming towards her.

she can make out an arm reaching for her, and every bone in her body propels her forward to grab it. she’s fighting and clawing to swim forward, but she’s cemented in place.

“celia..” a voice says, and the girl swears her heart falls to her ass. she knows that voice. could pick that voice out anywhere.

celia tries to call for her. tries to scream sloane’s name, but only bubbles come out. her vision is starting to blur at the lack of oxygen.

she refuses to give up. she needs to see sloane, her berry, even if it’s the last time. just one more time.

the arm has reached her now, smooth, dark skin that she recognized. it pulls her slightly, and the last remaining air that celia has in her body is stolen from her as she sees sloane, several years older staring back her.

“i’m still here, shells. look for me in the waves.”

she’s been running since then. she ran out sloane’s house and to her car. drove twenty over the speed limit the short distance home. ran out her car. she’s running towards the ocean.

she’s glad her parents and her brother aren’t home. but it wouldn’t stop her if they were. she hasn’t been in here in nine years, but as she tears her jacket off and throws her phone down on the sand, she runs like she never left.

she knows it’s crazy. she knows the sun is close to setting and the tide is high and this is dangerous, but she felt it. she felt sloane. she’s here. she’s still here.

celia dives down, swimming out as far as she can. past the sandbar, past the dingy tower that tells you to be cautious, past the point any sane person would with waves like this.

she’s swimming, swimming, swimming. until her lungs burn and her head throbs but she doesn’t care. the waves are knocking her body around relentlessly but she’s still calling sloane’s name.

“sloane! i’m here!” she twists and turns her body in circles, whipping around to look in every direction. “sloane! please. please be here.”

there’s nothing but water and wind, not a soul but her. she dives down again, trying to open her eyes but there’s nothing. when she breaks the surface again, her sobs are wretched and heavy.

“berry please! i’m here. i came back for you!” she’s exhausted, and a particularly bad wave knocks her under the current again. she can feel the fight leaving her body. she can’t even swim back to her house. she’s much too far.

“sloane… i’m so sorry.” she sputters out water between words. “i didn’t save you then. and i couldn’t find you now. i’m so sorry.”

she’s done then. a wave similar to that night is racing towards her, and she doesn’t care to combat it. sloane still isn’t here and she’s still half a person.

she mumbles a sickly sweet and terribly sad declaration of love to her best friend before she’s swept under yet again.

for the second time in her life, celia can feel lips on hers and hands on her chest. she’s not conscious yet, teetering on that thin line in between. an orange haze is bleeding into her black vision, and she feels something clawing up her throat.

seconds later she’s convulsing, throwing up water, while her fingers grip the sand.

her eyes are barely open, and she squeezes them tighter. she can’t bear to see the look on her parents face.

“you always were one for dramatics, shells.”

no matter how warm the setting sun is, her body goes ice cold. time slows and stops. she wants to open her eyes, but she’s terrified to.

she’s hearing that voice, the one that is in all her earliest memories, speaks in her dreams at night and haunts her daily; the voice that kept her alive all these years.

if she opens her eyes and it’s not her, she doesn’t know what she’ll do.

“open your eyes, celia.”

and she does. her eyes fly open and connect with the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. in all her soft, sweet glory, is sloane, ten years later.

immediately, the tears are falling. celia scrambles up to her knees, hands shooting out and running all over her face.

“sloane?” it’s the only word she can say. the only word that comes out over and over again like a mantra. like the holiest prayer from the most desperate man.

“it’s me.” she’s crying too. so hard.

and celia pounces then, because she still can’t quite believe it. she doesn’t know if she’s dead or if this is a dream or what. but she needs to hug her. and when sloane hugs her back just as hard, celia knows it’s real. because like any wretched thing, she only knows she’s real when she’s being touched.

“how-where- what- how the fuck are you here right now?” the words are a jumbled mess. tumbling out before celia can control them.

“it’s a hell of a story but-“ sloane starts.

celia sobs, “i thought you were dead-“

“-i’m here.” sloane is gripping onto celia so hard, if it was anyone else, it would hurt.

“-i’m so sorry, it’s my fault. i’m so fucking sorry-“

“celia, no. god no-“

“i’m sorry, berry. i’m so sorry.” she can’t control the flurry of emotions.

“you looked for me. you came back for me.”

celia nods. “every day for a year.”

sloane shakes her head. “longer than that. you came out here at night. talked to the ocean. looked for me in the moonlight. i saw you. you never stopped looking for me.”

another sob. “how could i ever stop looking for you? you’re everything to me.”

the girls hug again, for how long, nobody knows. celia feels everything in this moment. every ounce of guilt she’s felt in the last ten years. every grain of sand in her skin. the wet mats of hair stuck to her face. the drops of water on sloane’s skin. the scales on her waist. the way-

celia pauses.

“what the-“ she looks down at sloane’s entire body for the first time since she’s been awake. she blinks. once, twice, three times. she lets go of her friend and rubs her eyes.

“berry…?”

“yeah, shells?”

“why the fuck do you have a tail right now?”

sloane laughs, a sound that reverberates on loop in celia’s ribcage. a sound that breathes the life she lost so long ago back into her.

“well…”

and she tells her everything. from the moment she got lost in the waves. the last ten years and how she was saved by the full moon and the high tide. how there were more people, mermaids, just like her.

she tells celia about the price of the moon and tide. how the only reason she couldn’t let her know she was still alive, still right here, was because of her debt.

sloane looks up, pointing to the bright full moon. when celia lifts her head, it’s a carbon copy of the moon on the night sloane disappeared. celia’s skin breaks out in goosebumps.

“do you remember how mesmerized i was with the moon that night?” celia nods. “it was a blue super moon. extremely high tide. blue super moons are even rarer than regular blue moons. once every ten years. sometimes even twenty.”

“the day i went under, the moon was the only thing that guided me to find the others. they told me that i wouldn’t and couldn’t be seen until the cycle completed. called it the bittersweet blessing and curse of the moon and the tide.”

celia didn’t know what to say. her best friend, who she thought she basically killed, who’d been missing for ten years, was a mermaid.

“so what happens now?” the question terrified her. she couldn’t lose sloane again.

“now i’m free. now i’m back.” sloane smiles at celia like she built the sky for her. and celia’s heart calls sloane’s name with every beat.

“do you get to have your legs? is this an H20 situation where you can’t ever get wet again without your tail coming out?”

sloane laughs. “yes i get my legs, idiot. and no, it’s controllable.” she looks at the ocean. “well at midnight it will be. i can go between any time i like, except for super blue moons. then i have to be in the water.”

celia nods. the information sits in her head like a brick, but nothing matters. sloane is back. her sloane.

“i missed you so much.” celia whispers, thumb tracing sloane’s cheek in awe. “you’ve always been beautiful, but you’re breathtaking now.”

sloane puts her hand over celia’s. “i’m so sad i didn’t get to see you grow up. we lost so much time.”

celia shakes her head. “we have forever now. our second chance.”

all they do for the next minute is stare in each other’s eyes. there’s a charge between them, hopeful and tender, something that binds them. and maybe all celia wants to do is close the distance. maybe that’s part of the reason sloane’s disappearance hurt so much. not because she was in love with her, but because in the back of celia’s head, she always knew she could’ve fell. that they were closer than anyone and anything in the world. she was her best friend in the entire world. with time missing or not. her sloane, sweet as berries.

and maybe all sloane had thought about while she was away was celia’s face. celia’s laugh, her smile, her spirit. maybe her entire life, she had always paid more attention to her best friend than she should’ve. maybe not because she was in love with her, but because she wanted to be. she was everything to her. whether celia knew it or not. her celia, pretty as shells.

so, the girls sit and watch the sun and moon pass each other and the sky grow dark. watch the waves still roar and crash against the shoreline. they’re wrapped up so tightly in each other, nothing else matters.

tomorrow, they’ll have to explain to everyone how the fuck this was possible. they’ll have to spin a story so airtight and unbelievable. tomorrow will be stressful.

but tonight? tonight is for two girls to sit on their favorite beach, with their favorite person, and start to fall in love.

end

#sapphic #mermaid #au #alternate universe #female original character #original story #writing #oneshot #gxg #supernatural #best friends to lovers #oceancore #beach

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1nan0th3rl1f3 · 8 months ago

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well fuck. this vacation is going horribly so far...

woke up, slept like a rock yeah, but it wasn't enough, and GOD was that house disgusting as fuck. I was awake H O U R S before everyone else so I couldn't even comfortably scroll on tiktok bc there was a CHILD ON THE TOP BUNK. I tried watching stuff with another one of the kids but NONE of them will Ever. Sit. STILL. and they didn’t even try to watch the movie THEY PICKED OUT. then ofc everybody woke up and SO MANY KIDS ALL DOING EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. then we had to pack everything up again(+new swimsuit didn't fit me +new sandals didn't fit me) and almost IMMEDIATELY leave for the beach which I almost had a panic attack on the way there bc CAR CRASH TRAUMA, YAAAY✨️. and yeah, I will admit, the beach was good- really good. it was fun going in the ocean(even if it was FREEZING-), and I got to dig a giant hole in the sand with a bunch of other kids!! and we didn't get to shape or detail but we made someone into a mermaid!!! and the SHEEELLLLSSS!!! and pigeons were flying near us under the pier!! if that's not a sign of safety and comfort considering my life I don't know what is. but then we were headed to our hotel and again(✨️trauma!) I nearly had a panic attack on the road. we stopped somewhere but I couldn't get calm enough to feel comfortable with driving away again(which btw. FORGOT MY DAILY ANXIETY MEDS. took them the morning but left them.) so my mom tested a half(quarter?) dose of her own panic attack meds and I am GRATEFUL because the entire rest of the ride was smooth and nonstressful. anyways we got to our hotel and my aunt(??) brought my anxiety meds and everything was FINALLY okay, so I sleep..........AND WAKE UP BECAUSE MY STOMACH HURTS BEYOND HELL.

but, I should be okay for right now. if things go even more screwball I'll blab abt it here lol

#vent #tw car crash #tw panic attack

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slashersangel · 3 years ago

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im gonna boop you now-

uwu

Lets get down to business..to defeat thw Hanssss :D I wanna request poly!lost boys(pls include pretty boy michael uwu) with a fem s/o who is COMPLETELY human BUT ..She was the only one in her family that was human, born with superpowers. I would say elemantal control bc it's pretty cool admit it- ..so what if i watch the avatar or legend of korra ?! Sheesh, enjoy this should be fun

The usual elemants would Fire, Earth, Water, Wind. I would also add lava, metal, ice, snow..BUT WOAH SLOW DOWN, there is a catch here ya see? She doesn't know how to control her powers AT ALL and she has had a few problems in the past and currently atm.

Bye, have fun! Also, if u had a superpower what would it be? Mine would be dark matter or something that involves like dark witchcraft..not bc Im emo I- nvm lmao but have fun with this! ♡♡♡

*hug*

Ooh this is a good one! And if I were to have a power it would definitely be either energy manipulation (like wanda from marvel) or uhm… definitely control over nature like plants and animals and stuff! <3 and wow i haven’t thought of avatar or legends of Korra in forever! Thanks for jogging that memory.

these kitten gifs make me feel better because my cat ran away a few days ago 😭😭

Ploy! Lost Boys + michael with s/o who has powers! (fem)

• it started off with it raining whenever you were sad, thundering when you were angry or upset. At first it was very broad things that the boys thought maybe it was just a coincidence. But the other night, it was completely clear outside, not a cloud in the night sky, but after you had finished a sad movie (spoiler the dog died) you were trying to hard not to cry, they could tell, thats when the clouds rolled in, and when you started crying after Paul asked you what was wrong, the rain started.

• David and Dwayne looked at each other but the others didn’t seem to notice, too busy taking care of the crying you. Now, David and Dwayne have heard of witches before, never actually came across one before. They wouldn’t have even thought you were one until tonight.

• The six of you were over on the beach after chasing out a couple of people from their bonfire. It was chilly out due to the up take in wind, you had a shaw to keep you warm, key word is had. Paul and Marko took it from you to hit each other with.

• you were upset because you were cold and instead of asking for one of their jackets, you pouted and stared down Paul and Marko as they went ankle deep into the ocean. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared harder, which David noticed and he was about to hand you his jacket or make Michael do it, but there was a flash in your eyes that made him wait, and he’s glad he did because not a second later, a huge wave came crashing down on Paul and Marko.

• the boys laughed and you smiled before asking if they were okay. When you were asleep on David’s lap that night, he talked to Dwayne about it. Wait— he thinks you what? Made the wave? Sure… ya know David, you should get some rest with y/n

• David wasn’t as sure as he liked, so he brushed it off as a coincidence. Then Dwayne started think about it as well, maybe you were a witch or something without knowing.

• and the next night, they were all in your house and Paul, Marko and Michael has made it their mission to see which one was the better flirt, you wouldn’t give them an answer so they just decided to use their best pick up lines on you. It didn’t help that you were also making some food and at the end of Marko’s line (one of very many) he kissed you. When that happened, the eye you were boiling your water on caught fire. You quickly extinguished it and blamed it on the heat being too high, hiding the real truth.

• A few days later, they talked to you about it, to which you were completely surprised at, but you answered them. You were born human but had abilities, you could control the elements, the only one in your family with that could, and you didn’t know how to control them very well, explaining the fire incident. But you couldn’t control it, and you didn’t mean for the wave to hit Paul and Marko, but you were just so upset that it just happened!

• They all silently took it in, well Paul immediately asked if you could make lighting hit someone to which you shrugged at but Dwayne shut it down immediately. They asked you all sorts of questions about it too. Hey y/n can you light this on fire? Hey y/n, can you make an earthquake? Y/N, could you grow weed? Hey y/n, say someone was in the ocean, and you didn’t like the person could you— No Paul.

• they’s definitely try and help you control your powers so there isn’t a hurricane every time you cry over your favorite character dying. Baby, it’s okay, it’s not real, please don’t wipe out the whole western seaboard.

• they wouldn’t know what to do really, they associate controlling your powers like controlling their blood lust or mastering their mind tricks. With David, he tries and get you to master the harder elements like fire, metal or air. Yeah it might suck really bad whenever you don’t get it, or god forbid accidentally get hurt while doing it, (if that happens then you’d be banned from ever using that element) But he’d basically tell you to suck it up and continue and give a really shitty explanation of how to do it, because hey, he doesn’t know either. but you’ll end up getting distracted because he get’s frustrated that you’re not getting it.

• with dwayne, he takes a slow approach, he’d definitely find a book about it (how?), or about learning control and read it so he could teach you. He’d be one of those teachers where he’d put a cup of water in front of you and be like, now do something. Like what do you want her to do sir? SiR? If you want help, definitely go to him, he’s most likely to actually get anything done.

• Michael will try and mimic what Dwayne is doing to help you without the reading portion. He’d end up getting distracted and asking you to do something with your powers for him. Like, hey y/n, can you fill up my water? And you get confused when he spits it out. Y/N this is salt water???? Sorry babes. That would start a lesson on making drinking water and salt water, so at least you can do that now!

• now onto the terror twins. They’d definitely try and teach you together but end up getting absolutely nothing done except terrorizing people on the boardwalk. Like, hey y/n blow that girl’s hat away, she was looking at you funny. Y/N blow up that dude’s drink in his face, he was staring at your boobs earlier. You end up doing half of what they say, minus the more dangerous ones like lighting a girl’s scarf on fire, striking someone with lighting. (Paul >:()

• Paul would definitely ask you to strike Marko, come on y/n, he can take it! Then Marko would be all like, maybe i can take it… no Markie, you cannot take it.

• you’d run into the cave one night, excited, bouncing off the walls and when the boys would ask you what got you all happy, you’d show them. After a few deep breaths and a few moments of concentration, snow started falling inside the cave. When you opened your eyes, you saw the boys standing there dumbfounded, completely surprised that you could do this. You laughed and giggles with joy.

• I headcanon that since Michael went from Phoenix to Cali, he has never seen snow, but he knew from the moment it landed on him what it was and he was genuinely shocked, but he enjoyed it with you as you smiled and laughed in excitement. They loved how joyous you were about this and couldn’t help but smile along with you and your uncontainable excitement.

i really liked making this :), lemme know if you want a part 2??? also i’d love it be a witch? mostly because i grew up watching charmed but also because that’d be so fun?? whatttt

#the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #dwayne x reader #marko x reader #michael emerson #michael emerson x reader #paul x reader #david the lost boys 1987 #david x reader

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yuzukult · 4 years ago

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no blueberries (m) || kth & reader

title: no blueberries pairing: kim taehyung x reader genre: angst, fluff, minor smut, romance, college!au, minor artist!taehyung word count: 12.3k prompt: no more!taehyung gets his heartbroken to the point he doesn’t even love his favorite fruit, blueberries, anymore. then he meets you, the complete opposite of the girl of his dreams, and suddenly, blueberries taste sweet again. warnings: explicit smut,,, but short :) a/n: she/her is no more!oc :) also, thank you guys for your support for no more & for the interest of the spin-off for taehyung !! (also don’t come at me at the end if i made any mistakes bc i gave up on rereading any of my work LOL i’ve sat on this too long)

His love for the color blue dissipates along with her slipping through his fingers.

Clear blue skies, ocean saltwater crashing alongshore, and the fresh picked blueberries are the three memories he has grown fond of. Without any gloomy clouds in sight, he gets the best view of her underneath the sunlight; her dress matches the powder blue that coats the skies on the day of the dinner with his estranged father. He longs for those beach days again; the crystalline waters flow past his hands when he dips them in the ocean, soothing all his nerves along with that smile that’s plastered on her face that beams brighter than the stars late at night. The saccharine laugh is parallel to the sweetness of the blueberries, his favorite treat, but the fruit has become sour with time, along with his feelings for her because she isn’t his.

Taehyung hates the color blue.

He despises that the skies are similar to the dress she wore at the dinner she accompanied him with his estranged father. The royal blue that he paints on his walls had been his favorite, simply because it’s what she suggests, but since that very day, it doesn’t appeal to him in the same way it had before. Blue was the color of the ocean waves on the trip that the two of them went on together; toes dug into the warmth of the sand, sound of children cheering and laughing in the background with the sun’s rays heating their skin, and despite the scorching weather, it was still a moment he loved. But just like the consequence of being under the daylight without sunscreen, he burns. He’s burned and hurt from his love for her.

Taehyung doesn’t like blueberries anymore because of her.

There's a shift in the mood around Taehyung. When she gets with Yoongi, it’s apparent that Yoongi isn’t who he used to be; he’s nicer, warmer, and gentler even, despite his consistent icy cold exterior, there’s now a crack in his facade and it’s because he has you. In contrast, Taehyung sets aflame from losing you.

He’s sour like blueberries when they’re picked too early; attitude tart because he recognizes how he feels for her too late. It’s why Jungkook makes it his priority to get Taehyung out of the shared apartment; both his current and past loves reside in that space with his friends.

Pushing his friend to work on his artwork proves to be strenuous. “I’m not creative enough,” Taehyung admits sadly. “I lost my muse.” Or when Jungkook suggests playing basketball for the afternoon, Taehyung counters back that he’s tired. Dressing up and hitting the club for hot girls doesn’t even get him to flinch like it used to—the boy is officially heartbroken.

“How about a job at the library?” Jungkook urges another day, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s slowly running out of options here, but he isn’t ready to give up on Taehyung just yet.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Are we still doing this? Why can’t I just… mope.”

“You can.” Jungkook nods, pursing his lips in thought. “But, the grace period for moping is over. Now, we have to be proactive.”

After some continuous jabbing, Taehyung agrees to take the job.

He works there mostly at night, spending the late hours of the day filing books away in their designated spots on the shelves. It’s quieter during these shifts; the remainder of students that occupy the tables are often silent, ears covered with their headphones or buds, blasting music away without a care for their surroundings. Taehyung prefers this, simply because his own home has become a place of discomfort; giggles from the rooms next door that pierce through the thin drywall, soft whispers and nudges in the hallways, and movies blaring on the TV during their double dates. He often feels like a fifth wheel in his apartment; a useless accessory that hangs at the back of a vehicle, only desperately needed in an emergency.

This is nice. He could get used to this.

But he doesn’t.

Crunch, crunch. The crackling of the toasted bread echoes throughout the entirety of the room, bouncing off the walls in elevation, causing Taehyung’s skin to crawl. He knows who the culprit is because it’s the same one every time. If he was a hero that saves the library, you were without a doubt, the villain.

You’re an enemy in his eyes disguised as a co-worker. Your course load prohibits you from having a normal schedule, so you’re stuck on these later shifts with Taehyung, and more often than not, he ends up despising it. There’s something about you that he doesn’t like, and he can’t quite pinpoint it but everything about you triggers his anger too easily.

Pushing his cart of books to you, who sits calmly by the front desk with the sandwich in hand, he rolls his eyes. “You realize we’re in a library, right?”

“I do,” you hum, taking another crispy bite of the banh mi sandwich. It’s your go-to order, Taehyung learns, and you gravitate towards that specific meal at least once a week. And for some odd reason, you favor bringing it here, a sacred place where silence is imperative. “It’s also my break.”

“It’s always a break. We barely have any work here.”

You raise a brow at the male questioningly. “Okay, but according to labor laws, if we’re on shift for eight hours, we deserve at least a ten to fifteen minute break. And, well, I’m going to be here for eight hours.”

Taehyung doesn’t like you. He thinks you’re snappy, groggy, and overly confident for someone who should be a bit kinder. You never care about what people think of you, frequently having a rebuttal for every argument and comment that might stab your pride, but you never show signs of backing down. You don’t look offended or hurt, just annoyed that whomever it is even had the courage to say anything remotely close to trying to insult you.

You do what you want, and other people's feelings don’t matter.

Strangely, you’re not narcissistic either. He’s confused with how he feels about you because he can’t seem to figure you out. You’re different from her, he thinks to himself, and Taehyung finds that he compares you to her whenever you do something that causes his fists to clench and jaw to tighten.

“And you chose to eat a loud sandwich in that span of fifteen minutes?”

“What’s up your ass? Why do you keep bugging me?” Your finger loops underneath the soda can tab, and it pops obnoxiously loud with a sizzle, earning a groan from Taehyung. How could someone who works at the library tell the students who attend it to stay hushed when they’re the ones making the noise themselves? “Don’t keep it up. That’s how the last dude lost his job. By being annoying.”

“You’re the one being annoying,” he spits, huffing heatedly. “I swear you only bring the most deafening types of foods to eat here. Why can’t you eat like… kimbap or something? It’s rice, not crunchy, and it tastes good.”

“Mm, but potato chips are so good. And toasted sammies. How about those spicy seaweed snacks?”

Taehyung grimaces. “And all you eat is junk food. Ridiculous.”

“You want me to eat a salad?” You query, leaning back in your swivel chair. Even in a quarrel, you manage to stay serene, as if Taehyung didn’t take a jab at your eating habits only seconds before. “Kinda raucous if you asked me.”

Kim Taehyung hates you, but he deals with you anyway. He’s met worse people in his life; people who steal the girl he’s in love with, and people who get the dream girl when they don’t deserve her.

When she comes in a pretty pink dress, Taehyung’s breath is stuck in his throat. He feels his heart flutter, skip a beat, and his intestines tie in a knot, anxiety flooding through his veins like he shot it up his bloodstream to feel the high.

But he doesn’t feel high. He’s just incredibly nervous. Whenever he sees her, it’s a constant reminder that his heart’s shattered like broken pieces of dropped china. It was too late when he realized his true feelings for her, and it’s when she’s already been scooped up by another, someone who isn’t even worthy to receive her love.

“I borrowed this book last Wednesday,” she grins cheekily, waving a copy Of Mice and Men, a novel by John Steinbeck that you recalled was Taehyung’s favorite (from overhearing a conversation with him and some other chick who was also checking out a book). “Which… by the way, was the last time I saw you, and it was in passing. What’s been up with you lately? You never want to hang anymore.”

Taehyung rubs his nape, chewing on his bottom lip awkwardly. He doesn’t want to confess that it’s because of his infatuation with her, that watching her be lovey dovey with a guy he resents isn’t how he wanted to spend his free time. “Sorry. Been caught up here lately.”

“At… the library?” She quirks a brow. She’s too smart, Taehyung thinks to himself, because she catches him in his own lies routinely, especially with how things have been lately.

“Uh, yeah. Guess everyone’s doing their book reports and just cramming in for midterms.” Yeah. That sounds like a solid excuse. He gives himself a mental pat on the shoulder for coming up with a half-decent reason. Maybe it’ll be enough to get her off his back for a little while.

“Right…” Her voice is saturated with skepticism, and if she was truly doubtful, she doesn’t act on it right away. “I guess… I’ll be returning this.” She slides the slightly worn paperback book across the wooden receptionist desk, and Taehyung does his job of inputting it into the system. There’s a brief moment of silence between them, two friends who used to be close but grew distant, and there’s no one to blame but Taehyung.

“Are… are you sure you’re alright?” She questions again, trying her best to observe his expression. “You’ve been acting weird lately. Like you’re avoiding me or something. I barely see you over at your apartment. Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” Taehyung says, voice pitched higher than usual. It earns a contorted look from you, who also works behind the counter, arranging the books into their specific piles. He scoffs, stuttering over his own words when he talks to her, obviously caught red-handed. “W-Whaaat? Of course not. I’m just… super busy lately, trust me.”

She sucks in her cheeks. “I really don’t believe you, but I won’t probe any further.” Sighing, her shoulders drop along with the expression on her face. “I know that interrogating you won’t make it any better, and I want you to confront me with what you’re going through when you’re ready.”

When she says her goodbyes, Taehyung tosses his body onto the nearest chair and slouches. It took a lot of energy within him to lie because he’s never hid the truth from her before.

“So she’s the girl you’ve been in love with?”

Taehyung freezes momentarily. “What?”

You pop a yellow sour patch kid in your mouth. It’s your second favorite flavor just behind the orange colored one, but Taehyung isn’t really sure why he knows this. “The chick. I remember that tall pretty boy coming by the other day and mentioning her. She’s the chick you’ve been in love with?”

The boy scowls. “What’s it to you?”

You hum dismissively, “I’d be a better girlfriend.”

Taehyung doesn’t like you very much. And truthfully, he thought the same feelings were reciprocated. You eat loud food purposely in a library, have no regard for others, and you love fueling the fire with him.

So when you say those words, he thinks it’s a prank. “What?” He laughs in disbelief, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’d be a better girlfriend for you. Let’s date.”

Taehyung still can’t get over that day.

Your words haunt him worse than the aftermath of a horror movie; those ghostly words repeating in his ears and continuously on repeat like an endless time loop. I’d be a better girlfriend for you. Let’s date. Did you actually mean that?

Seconds after you said those very words, he was left speechless; words caught in the passages of his airways and he truly didn’t know how to respond. And with that, you shrugged before walking away without anything else to say, leaving guilt to gnaw on his insides.

He doesn’t know. Your comments are often sharp like the edge of a knife, quick and pierces through the skin easily, but that one time didn’t feel like it normally does. Did you truly mean what you said, or was it another practical joke?

The next shift he has with you, you’re rather calm. You don’t show any signs of dejection, but truthfully, you never do. If you had any, you were a professional at masking it and he makes a mental note to suggest an acting career. Seated in front of the library’s check-out computer with your laptop beside it, you stream some drama that he’s unfamiliar with. You have an airpod in one ear, the other one without, in case a student comes by to borrow a book. Peering over your shoulder, he furrows his brows in concentration, trying to make out what you’re so engrossed with.

“I still want you,” the subtitle reads underneath the scene of a woman that’s close to your age, her eyes teary with a quivering bottom lip. She’s looking at a guy who stands before her with his gaze averted from hers, trying his best to not fall for her tactics. Taehyung expects you to showcase some type of melancholic emotion, to appear sympathetic for the character but instead, a soft chuckle escapes from your chest.

“Funny,” you mumble to yourself, fingers reaching over to grab a bag of chips from your backpack. Was this what you found… amusing? Without the slightest care you loudly tear open the bag, earning a groan from Taehyung.

“Seriously?”

“Oh.” You turn to look at him. “You’re here? You want some?”

“We’re always on shift together. What makes you think this time is any different?”

Twisting your body back to your computer, you tap the spacebar to continue the drama. You shrug nonchalantly. “Just figured since my confession, you’d be scared to work with me.”

Appalled, his mouth drops open in complete incredulity. “Wh-what? You were actually serious? I thought you were doing that thing people do in Punk’d. The whole ‘Ashton Kutcher does something outrageous and tricks you’ act. You can’t possibly like me… right?”

Even though the back of your head is facing him, he could already sense your eye roll. Taehyung may not understand you entirely, but he can almost predict that attitude you radiate on a perpetual basis. “Well, obviously I do. I mentioned to you last time that I thought I’d be a better option for you and we should date.”

“But you didn’t sound sincere—”

“Kim Taehyung.” Your chair swivels around abruptly, and his heart nearly drops to his ass. Voice stern, and stare hard, he admits that although he often retaliates to your quips, he still fears you to a certain extent. “I said, ‘let’s date.’ Not, ‘let’s date, haha, JK.’ Otherwise, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now, would we?”

He gulps.

Quite frankly, you’re very beautiful. Even on days where you’ve wholly given up on life and opt for looking like a bum, you’re still breathlessly gorgeous. There’s something about your demeanor that is evidently intimidating but you’re that girl, the one people flinch when you glance over in their direction and because of that, Taehyung never really considered you as anything other than an acquaintance.

Really, you’re quite the opposite of her, and the thought of you potentially being a girlfriend never crossed his mind.

“Well, I mean…” Taehyung puffs his cheeks briefly in thought. Coming to terms that you, the girl who is definitely the most adverse to his usual type, are crushing on him… doesn’t seem very realistic. “I think I need time to sit on it.”

“Sure,” you state coolly, like nothing affects you at all. If you were infatuated with Taehyung and had your heart broken just now, he would never know. You hold yourself so well, face solid yet at the same time lax. He’s lost when it comes to you. “Let me know what you think. I’ll be here, as usual. But don’t let me wait long.”

Taehyung quirks a brow. “Why do you say that?”

“As scary as you think I am, it doesn’t mean I don’t have a queue of people wanting to date me.”

There are a lot of things that Taehyung doesn’t fully grasp. For one, he doesn’t get the whole ‘physics’ thing. Who is Newton and why does he need three laws of motion to elaborate that things that move just… move? Not to mention, old literature makes absolutely no sense to him. Who is Julius Caesar and why did he have to die? Can’t the writer just… keep him alive?

You call Taehyung an idiot majority of the time, and he doesn’t deny this. And yet, he’s confused because you’re the one who professed feelings, so… why are you into a guy that you claim is an absolute doofus?

For someone who knows a lot of these things and works in a library, you don’t read often. But Taehyung doesn’t either. Albeit, he’s clueless as to how you’re so knowledgeable in these topics, especially when you’re always fucking around half the time.

“How do you know so much about… everything?” Taehyung blurts one day randomly, halfway through your shift at 11:00PM. It’s your break, he recollects. Practically every time the clock strikes that time, you don’t fail to mention it and he figures it’s a good moment to crack the silence to interrogate you a little. You don’t talk about yourself regularly, and how’s he supposed to come to the conclusion of making you his girlfriend when he barely knows you?

“Excuse me?” You’re mid-bite into your kimbap, which he takes note of that you took his suggestion. Maybe you do listen to things he says. Despite the fact you’re eating it like a hot dog instead of cutting it into pieces, he appreciates the effort. “Know everything about what?”

“Like… I don’t know. Stuff.” He shrugs, not entirely sure what he was asking anyway. “You know. You seem to get the whole science stuff and books or whatever. But you don’t read.”

“... And?”

“Well like… how?”

You blink blankly. “Well, I could say the same for you. How do you paint and stuff?” You’re mocking him, something that he’s grown accustomed to, and it earns you a sigh. “I don’t know how to sketch, paint, or draw. So how do you do that?”

He hums in thought, leaning back against one of the bookshelves behind the counter. “Inspiration sparks, and I just… get in the zone. Paintbrush in hand, tubs of paint lined up in front of my canvas—it’s kind of hard not to paint.”

“Right,” Tapping your fingers against the wooden desk, you tilt your head. “So, how do you paint? How do you make it look good, and how do you make things the way that they seem?”

“P...Practice?”

“Sure. Let’s say practice then. I don’t willingly learn about stupid things like integrals or The Great Gatsby, and they’re merely just assignments that I so-called ‘practiced’ in order for them to make sense. But—not everyone gets it and that’s okay. You’re just… one of those.”

Taehyung snorts. “O-One of those? You make me seem stupid.”

“I mean… you are, don’t waste your time denying that.” Just when Taehyung makes an attempt to interject to defend himself, you’re faster at responding, “But, you’re very talented. You’re not smart in those other things, but you’re smart with art. I’m not. So don’t think that you’re the full hundred percent stupid.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever complimented him… well, sort of. Maybe you’ve got a sweet spot that people don’t know about.

There’s that tall-pretty-looking guy again, asking for Taehyung on Monday night with a blazer in hand. He’s got his hair slicked back with a heavy amount of gel, a kind smile on his face, and a soothing voice that questions where his friend is.

“Is uh… Kim Taehyung here?”

You click your tongue. “What’s it to ya?”

Taehyung grumbles from behind, shoving you aside to make way for himself. Frowning, you let him get away with it for now, and possibly show him what karma means later, so you head to the backroom in the meantime. “Sorry, hyung. She likes to play around a lot. What’s up?”

Seokjin raises a brow teasingly. “What? She’s got a little crush on you or something?”

Taehyung exhales a sharp breath with a glare. “Yes but I don’t want to get into the details. You brought back my blazer?”

His friend is tempted to probe for more, but he has his reasons for being here. “So uh, thanks for lending me this. The one I had was for… the fourteen-year-old version of Kim Seokjin. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Taehyung grins cheekily, turning over to hang it on the door handle. “Appreciate you giving it back to me.”

There’s a minor pause between the two. Seokjin quietly rolls his lips as he bounces on the tips of his shoes with his hands dug deep into the front of his pockets. Deciding it was time to confront his friend, he finally breaks the silence. “... I heard some rumors going around that… you’ve had a thing for uh,” he clears his throat uncomfortably. “Her.”

The name doesn’t need to be said for Taehyung to know; practically everyone in their mutual friend group is aware of his evident feelings except for the couple themselves. “And what did those rumors say exactly?”

“You might’ve, well… had feelings for her. Even though she’s with… Yoongi. Not to mention that one time you tried setting her up with Namjoon—” Taehyung scrunches up his nose as he waves his hand in front of Seokjin in dismissal. “Eugh. Don’t continue, please. I already know.”

“Well, dude. Spill. What’s up?”

Sighing frustratedly, Taehyung runs his fingers through his disheveled ebony locks. He’s been meaning to go for a new look lately, especially since he’s been planning on starting over a new leaf after getting his heart broken. “I just… I’m over it, alright? I realized that I loved her but by the time I figured that out, Yoongi already mended the broken heart that he caused. Either way, it’s not worth it to think about it again. It’ll only make me feel shittier.”

Seokjin gives Taehyung that look—the look that all his friends have been giving him when they realize that the girl he’s been in love with has found love in another. “How about we hit the club on Friday?”

Taehyung winces. “Friday? I have work on Friday.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “You’ve been so caught up in work that you forgot Friday is a holiday. All of the University closes that night. That includes the library.”

“Dammmnnn, Taehyung!” Jungkook hollers, whistling between his two fingers. Taehyung’s cheeks are rosy from his friend’s actions, and he’s thankful that the music in the club is blasting or else heads would, without a doubt, be turning in his direction. When in reality, they’re turning to see him anyway because he does look really good tonight. “You clean up nice. Looking for a girlfriend?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at his friend, a trait that he realizes he’s slowly stealing from you. Were you really that contagious? “Seokjin invited me to come, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Let’s at least get you a girl to go home with tonight,” Jungkook winks, and Taehyung’s nose twitches in response.

“Chill out, will you?”

The club and party life has never been Taehyung’s scene, but coming out here tonight is a nice change of pace. He’d been working endlessly throughout the past month, spending incessant hours in between bookshelves, organizing said books, and sitting in a library full of at least four people during those nights while dealing with your boisterous chewing.

Speaking of you….

Why is that even on a day where he doesn’t have a shift with you, he still runs into you outside of work?

And—why do you look like… that?

“Guk,” You grin, hand on his shoulder. Although your makeup isn’t heavy, it still emphasizes your beauty and he’s not sure if he’s used to this side of you. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Jungkook twists himself around, a bright smile slapped across his face, and Taehyung nearly catches a glimpse of the hearts in his eyes. Does Jungkook have a crush on you? Is that why the two of you are so close?

“Hey… Hey!” He greets, recognizing that it’s you standing by him, all confident in your black, skin-tight dress that hugs your body well. Taehyung has to avert his gaze momentarily, sipping on his glass bottle of beer before you catch him in the act. He knows that he won’t hear the end of it if you knew he was checking you out. “I’m always here on Fridays. Gotta occupy my free time with something, right?”

“Evidently not in the library with your face in the books, it seems.” You joke, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. That’s when you see him, and Taehyung almost chokes on his beer when your lashes flutter in his direction. “Oh, lookie here. It’s the artsy boy.”

“... Yeah, uh that’s me. ‘Sup?” Why’s he suddenly acting weird now that you’re all dressed up? He has to shake his head from these weird thoughts. It feels that he’s been identified for his strange actions because you let out a sweet laugh that pulls on the recoil start in his chest like a lawn mower, and his heart stutters.

You don’t say anything in return, an eye-smile upon your pretty face before saying your goodbyes. “I’m just uh, gonna head back to my friends. Good seeing you… outside of work, Tae.”

Tae. Is that how you would’ve referred to him if you weren’t co-workers?

Jungkook snorts, snapping Taehyung out of his trance. “Dude, you good?”

“Uh, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Mm,” Jungkook hums teasingly, swirling the drink in hand. “So… what’d you think of her since you guys started working together?”

Taehyung eyes his friend suspiciously. “She seems… alright. Why? You into her? Why don’t you date her?”

Jungkook bursts into laughter, on the verge of slipping off the stool he sits on. “Simple. Because she’s a friend, but also too bold for me. I like shy girls. But you… you should go for her. She’s not your type, yeah, but you might find something worthwhile if you date her.”

“That goes the same for you.” Taehyung quirks a brow.

“That… yeah, that’s true. But she’s cool and I only see her as a friend.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs, taking another swing of his beer, basking in the loud music and lights that flicker around the venue. “But she’s just… not my type.”

“Not your type, or… not her?” Jungkook grabs his drink, prepared to turn away but not before he says, “Maybe you should give her a shot.”

That statement haunts Taehyung for the rest of the night.

You’re so… pretty, he notices, watching the way your eyes get sparkly underneath the club’s lights. Reds, blues, greens—there isn’t a shade that can unflatter you; in fact, you’re even… prettier? He’s left in awe, watching the way you sway to the music in the midst of the crowd, and still manage to capture his attention in a way his professors never could.

Then the image of you devouring a bowl of noodles at work appears, slurping away while twirling in your swivel chair in an attempt to challenge yourself to see if you could prevent the soup from spilling.

Of course. Why isn’t he surprised?

Embarrassingly, he and Jungkook get a little out of hand with the alcohol consumption that night. It’s so bad that it gets your attention, the girl that he’s supposedly irked by.

“I’ll call them an uber,” you assure one of their friends, Seokjin, who looks at you uneasily. “I’ll even ride with them.”

That night, Taehyung’s memory about what exactly happened is a bit foggy. But, he arrives home safely after punching in his address messily into your phone, mumbling the numbers incoherently while Jungkook is completely knocked out on the bench outside of the club.

He doesn’t remember, but you do. Taehyung looked adorable with his burning cheeks; giggly and in a daze from all the alcohol in his system. He mutters a handful of things, but the one that piqued your curiosity is when he leaned close, mouth twitching with a soft chuckle with a tap of your nose as he whispers, “you’re pretty.”

Kim Taehyung thinks you’re pretty.

Taehyung feels absolutely disgusting. He’s on the verge of wanting to vomit yet at the same time pass out. He’s paler than he is normally, lips blue like he just drank a whole 62oz of blue raspberry Slurpee, and he currently has his hands on his stomach while sweating profusely. He’s already drenched his shirt and he’s only a ten minute walk to the library.

“Eugh.” Startled, you stumble back against the counter when Taehyung walks in. Initially, you traded a shift with one of your coworkers today, supposedly getting off around the time of Taehyung’s arrival. “You look… gross. What’s up with you?”

“I think I have the stomach flu,” he says weakly, leaning against the wall for support. “But no one can cover my shift.”

“Eugh,” you reiterate, scrunching up your nose in repugnance. “That’s gross. You gotta head home.”

“No one can cover for me—”

Pushing him off the wall, you guide him into the direction of the front door. “Eugh, please do me a favor and get your disgusting ass out of here. I’ll stay for your shift.”

Taehyung is way too sick to even notice how nice you’re being, despite the harsh words coming out of your mouth.

It gets even worse when you get off his shift, standing at his doorstep with a bag of food in your hand. He has tissues shoved up his nose, a loose tee on with holes at the neckline, and sweatpants that drag across the floor because they’re two sizes too big.

“What—what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?” he sputters like the engine of a broken car. “It’s like… five in the morning.”

“Yeah, I got that, I have a phone that tells time. I should be asking you since you responded to my text so quickly? Also, how did you think you got home that night at the club?” He’s confused. Why are you at his house? Did you give him a ride? Then, your expression changes to an annoyed one within seconds, and he almost hears the growl coming up your throat. “Well? Are you going to invite me in or what? I got you food.”

He doesn’t know how he got to this position, but he’s sitting on the floor of his living room with you, a space in his own apartment that he hasn’t been in since she started spending time here with Yoongi to hang out. You’ve pulled out containers full of congee and side dishes, laying them out on his small coffee table before handing him a disposable spoon. “Eat.”

“Uh…”

“No, I didn’t poison it. And yes, I know… sadly it’s not crunchy but you’re sick so just deal with it.”

Dipping your spoon in his congee, you lick the contents off cleanly, showcasing that it is very much not poisoned. “Eat. Then we can sit and let your stomach digest it. Solids aren’t good when you have a stomach flu.”

“What about the rest?” He queries, shoulders dropping at the thought of missing out on such delicious looking side dishes.

“Mm. Sucks. Guess I’ll have to eat it all,” you shrug calmly, diving straight into the kimchi. He can’t help but stifle a soft laugh at this, remembering how gorgeous you looked at the club that night, dancing your problems away with the flickering colorful lights, and how you are now, underneath the fluorescent light of his living room, crunching on your kimchi pieces at five in the morning.

And weirdly enough, you’re still gorgeous even now.

“Wanna watch something?” You ask, breaking the silence while gesturing to the TV with your head.

“Sure.” His voice is still groggy, but he’s already feeling a bit better after a couple mouthfuls of congee. “What did you have in mind?”

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine?”

It’s sort of nice having you here like this: in his apartment, dressed snugly in your most comfortable clothes while keeping him company in spite of whatever bug he has in his system. You look lovely like this, even though your eyes are slightly sunken from the extra hours at the library, with smudged mascara that was applied yesterday. And honestly? Taehyung’s slowly seeing you in a different light– he’s unsure what’s got his stomach churning, but it’s definitely not the stomach flu.

There’s definitely something in the medicine that you force feed down his throat after one of the episodes, because he knocks out cold on the couch for three hours straight until startled awake from your abrupt movements.

“Hey.” He tries shaking you, eyes barely open but he manages to steal a glance at the hanging analog clock. “Go home. It’s eight in the morning. I’m gonna get you sick.”

You shove his arm away, snuggling close to the corner of the sofa. “Whatever, I’m fine. My immune system is built like a Transformer, I used to volunteer at nursing homes and daycares.”

… A weird response, indeed, but Taehyung is too sleepy to even care, to the point that he doesn’t realize that he’s fallen asleep with his arm wrapped around you, and you must’ve twisted your body around in your slumber because your head is resting cosily on his chest.

“Oh, this is cute.”

That voice sounds familiar to Taehyung’s ears, and it stirs him awake. That’s when he notices her, a sight that has him staggering out of this awkward yet comfortable position, forcing a limp body off him that it earns a scowl from you. “Kim Taehyung.” You grumble, hair disheveled and covering your field of vision.

There she stands, between the kitchen and the living room, in that powder blue sundress that Taehyung used to love. He could already imagine himself at the beach like that very day; toes buried in the warmths of the sand, skin absorbing the rays of the sun, and heart feeling full because he’s with her. Her hair is done nicely today, seemingly for a special event that he’s unaware of, and the smile that tugs on the edges of her lips is only proof of it.

“H-hey. You look good. Heading out?”

Even when she adjusts the strap of her bag over her shoulder it takes the breath out of Taehyung’s lungs. And that’s not because he’s sick. “Yeah. Yoongi and I are heading to the beach today to have a picnic. I heard the weather is nice today, so we figured it’d be cute.”

Hearing Yoongi’s name instead of his own drops his heart. It was supposed to be him. It was supposed to be him that got to love her in that way, to hold her hand and call her his own. “Wow, that’s uh… that’s sweet. You guys have fun.”

She gestures to you, who finds home in the corner of his couch again, hugging the armrest restfully. “So… is she your girlfriend?” Her gaze shifts to the table where a bag of trash from your meal this morning resides. “And I see she brought you food. Were you sick, Tae?”

It’s different, the way she says Tae in comparison to how you did on that Friday night. This time, it doesn’t sound as honeyed. There’s something about you when you say Tae instead of a stern version of Taehyung, like night and day, or even like those sour patch kids that you love so much—sour first, then sweet. But what he’s detecting is that her version doesn’t cause his heart to skip a beat like it used to.

“Uh, yeah. We had some congee and I drank some medicine. But… uh, we’re not dating, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just a coworker.”

Right. That’s who you were. Just a coworker. A coworker who wants to date him.

Taehyung tosses a mysterious brown paper back onto the receptionist desk. “Here.”

Watching him carefully, you furrow your brows curiously at his unfamiliar behavior. “What’s that?”

“It’s to pay you back,” he says, clearing his throat afterwards, in hopes of releasing whatever awkward feelings reside inside him. “For, uh, checking in on me. Getting me food and whatnot. It was… pretty helpful. I didn’t eat that day and I couldn’t gather enough energy to cook for myself.”

Reclining in your swivel chair, you’re still not convinced that this isn’t some prank. You don’t trust Taehyung, despite your current crush on him, because he doesn’t like you that way or he just doesn’t show it. Taehyung doesn’t like that you’re bold, he doesn’t like that you laugh with your entire body, and he hates that you do everything on his pet peeve list without having to look at it. “Open it.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “You don’t trust me.”

“Hell no I don’t.”

Taehyung inhales deeply, opening the bag before peering in. “For someone who says they want to date me, you really don’t act like it.”

You’re intrigued. “What do you mean by that?”

As he’s pulling out boxes of takeout, your mouth begins to water from the aroma that ghosts under your nose. “Well, for one, you’re not very nice to me despite this… crush,” he says, waving one of the boxes in front of you in an attempt to get his point across but you’re too infatuated by the smell. “And when I tell you I don’t like something, you still do it anyway. You know it’s my pet peeve right? The whole loud eating?”

“I don’t eat loud, I just eat loud food,” you correct him, scooting closer to the counter. “Plus, why do I have to cater to your interests? It’s who I am. Anyways, what did you get me?”

Fried chicken. It’s five different types of fried chicken with coleslaw and mashed potatoes doused in gravy, and if you're being quite frank, you’re a bit taken aback that he chose this since fried is often associated with… crispy. And crispy? Crispy is noisy. “Wh—Why fried chicken?”

“Cause yeah, it’s annoying to hear the crisp when you first bite into it but it’s not as irritating as toasted bread. Plus, I heard that fried chicken is your favorite.”

“From who?”

“Jungkook.” He folds the paper bag, tucking it underneath one of the containers. “So uh… speaking of Jungkook, did you… did you guys ever have a thing? I mean… feel free not to answer, I was just uh… curious.”

Already shuffling to open the boxes, you’re prepared to haul all this food into your black hole of a stomach but you pause your movements when you hear his question. You can’t help but snort. “Why? Are you jealous? I don’t think you have the right to be, though. You never gave me a straightforward answer. We should just date so you don’t have to worry about Jungkook snagging me.”

That green little monster full of envy that everyone’s always talking about? Taehyung used to feel that when he saw her with Yoongi, so he’s quite familiar with the creature. But what he’s not used to is that it’s popping up while he’s thinking of you and Jungkook possibly being a couple.

Taehyung swallows, turning his head away, striving to hide this weird thing going on in his chest. “You don’t really like me, do you? You’re just saying that stuff to make me uncomfortable because you like teasing me.”

Crunch. Taehyung grimaces at the sound, but that cute, joyous smile on your face makes up for it.

“True. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not serious when I say that I’d be a better girlfriend for you.”

He chokes on a breath, punching his own chest in order to regain himself. “What? You can’t just say stuff like that!”

Confused, you tilt your head. “And why not?”

“Because you don’t really like me.”

Rolling your eyes, you clean your chicken wing bone of its meat in seconds, and Taehyung truly thinks you’ve got a talent for eating. Throwing it onto one of the lids, you let out a sigh. “I don’t know how to get it through your head. But Kim Taehyung, hear this and let it get through your head, will you? I think we should date. You should be my boyfriend. So, take it into consideration or just… date me.”

Taehyung loves to paint. He still doesn’t understand the differences between affect or effect, but he knows that azure and cobalt are two vastly disparate shades of blue. The color wheel is practically engraved into his brain, and he’s got a skill when it comes to mixing colors to the ones that match what runs through his imagination.

He finds it calming, letting the bristles of the brushes glide on the canvas, like ice skaters that dance across the smoothness of the rink, the paint blending with the other shades that resemble the ones in the sky, just like that day at the beach with her. Taehyung doesn’t know what hits him, this urge to impetuously grab his tools and start creating art. Nothing has spurred him recently, revving the artistic side of him that he so desperately craved for motivation for. Usually, heartbreak does wonders to the imagination. But for some reason, it hasn’t stimulated anything.

Then, in the midst of being in the zone, he groans.

One of the hairs on his brush sticks out from the rest, causing a small line of blue marks on another part of his canvas, where blue isn’t supposed to be.

Taehyung hurls the brush into his cup of water, feeling discouraged. Maybe if he had saved up enough, he could afford that expensive brush set that he’s been eyeing for years. But from having to pay rent, groceries, other basic necessities and books, there doesn’t seem to be any room in his budget to purchase such an outrageously overpriced painting bundle that… only… the pros have.

And coincidentally, it’s time for his shift at the library.

You’re beginning to grow on him, he thinks, but he shakes off the thought. You’re still you, nonetheless–a very blunt, aggressive and bold person who obviously says things that they don’t mean… unless, did you really mean it when you said you wanted to date him?

Taehyung is torn. On one hand, he thinks you’re out of his league—not in the way that you’re too cool for him, but rather that you’re on the complete opposite spectrum of him. You’re not artistic, you don't have a creative bone in your body, and you’re often fascinated in things that he doesn’t find much interest in, such as conspiracy theories or how steak is dry aged (what does that even mean?), and true crime podcasts (was he going to die if he flat out rejected you?)

He’s never dated anyone remotely close to you, but then again, he hasn’t had any successful relationships in the past with the girls he’s been with that all sort of had the same traits. Is going out of his comfort zone the answer to his troubled love life?

Letting out a heavy sigh, Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair. He’s been on shift for hours, and for some reason, you’ve randomly called out. Namjoon comes in as your replacement, and there’s nothing wrong with the dude but he’s just not… you. There’s no loud chewing, sharp insults and rebuttals, but… silence, just as a library should be.

Did he strike a chord and you finally decided that he’s been taking too long and you’d rather work somewhere else or with someone else? Or did something happen to you? Were you sick maybe? Caught in an accident?

Before his thoughts can continue to run wild, he almost mistakes reality with a dream because you walk through the front doors of the library, two drinks in hand with your hair let loose and out of your usual low bun.

“Sup.”

That’s it? You call off your shift without telling him prior, and the only thing you say is ‘sup’?

He doesn’t know what takes over him, but he jolts up from his seat with the fronts of his brows dipped down in anger. “Sup. That’s all you have to say? Why didn’t you come in? And why didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

You shrug nonchalantly, handing over one of the iced coffees. “Needed a bit of a break, so Namjoon over there said he didn’t mind covering,” you turn over to wave at the boy in between the shelves placing the books back to where they belong, “... and I felt a bit burnt out to be quite honest. Working here at night while all your friends are having fun really takes a toll on you. I needed a mental health day, so.. Hope you don’t mind. But, if you agreed to be my boyfriend, maybe I would’ve seen you at home instead. That way you’re not missing me all day.”

Speechless, his jaw drops at your intrepid response, unable to formulate a proper answer to that.

“Well… gimme a second and I’ll be back, yeah? I’m gonna give this coffee to Joonie for covering my shift for me.”

Watching you walk away confuses him even more. Did he like you? Why was he so… worried just a second ago? He feels the heat creeping up, lingering around his neck and his face is probably flushed pink by now. Settling back into the swivel chair that’s technically yours (you’ve claimed it for yourself and it’s off limits to everyone), he’s perturbed. Taehyung was definitely sure that he wasn’t into you, especially since you seemed standoffish, but since your unforeseeable confession, and nontraditional at that, it’s like… you sparked something in him, as if you’re… inspiration?

“Hey.” You’re back, and Taehyung hasn’t even fully regained himself yet. “So uh, how’s your painting going?”

“My painting?” Right. He realizes that he briefly mentioned it on the last shift you were on together. “Uh, it’s alright. Struggling a bit since my brushes are getting old so they’re not in the best shape to create a masterpiece. But that’s where everyone starts off, right? Not with the best tools but their works still look great. I just wish it was… perfect…” Taehyung carries on into a tangent, talking about his favorite painters and what he wants to go for plus that stupid brush set that’s unreasonably priced, and somehow after twenty minutes later, he stops when the clock strikes 1:00AM.

But you stayed. You listened quietly, intrigued by his findings and stories, his dreams and aspirations, nodding along without much comment.

Maybe when you’re not munching on potato chips, you’re slightly bearable. After all, you even got him a cup of coffee to make it through the night.

“Do you like blueberries?”

“What?”

It’s three in the morning and there’s only two hours left before your shifts are over, so when you ask such a random question like that, Taehyung thinks you’ve lost your mind.

“Blueberries,” you reiterate, tearing off the head of your orange sour patch kid. “Like… the fruit or whatever. It’s blue, tiny, round like a little ball. Sometimes sour, sometimes sweet, depending when they’re picked. Blueberry harvests are around April to late September—”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I know what blueberries are. Why are you asking me this?”

You shrug. “I dunno. I remember seeing you hanging around at the quad about a year ago. Saw you carrying a ziplock bag with blueberries like some kindergartener eating snacks his mom packed for him. You don’t eat them anymore.”

“You knew me then?”

“Eh.” Your legs are resting on the receptionist desk, despite Taehyung repeatedly telling you to not do that. “I may have noticed you then. Jungkook liked to talk about you a lot and we hung out sometimes. But you don’t eat blueberries anymore. Did you get tired of them?”

“I’m surprised you knew about me before the library,” he admits, pushing the empty cart into the backroom. “But sort of. They started tasting bitter to me after a while, sometimes too sour. I could never find any that were sweet.”

“Why didn’t you just… bake them?”

“What?” He says this a lot when he’s with you because you never fail to surprise him. “I don’t get it.”

Dropping your feet onto the floor, you brush your hands off to the side and crystals from the candy fall onto the ground. He mentally groans at this because it’s just attracting more ants, but you disregard his constant complaints anyway so he remains silent. “Bake with the sour blueberries. Eat the sweet ones. Why just stop eating them completely when you could just… bake them? You like them, don’t you? So just find an alternative way to prepare them.”

You make a pretty good point. In fact, the next time you work with Taehyung, you bake him a blueberry crumb cake.

He stares at the little baggy in your hand, bemused. “What… what’s that?”

“Okay, hear me out. It’s not pretty, so to speak, but it’s really good. I’m still trying to work out the recipe so that it keeps the same taste and sweetness but it’s so hard to make it… solid? It’s a blueberry crumb cake. But too crumbly. Not efficient to eat.”

Taehyung observes the bag of the broken treat. Before he even opens it, he notices something familiar that peeks out of your backpack, something that someone like you would never be in possession of. “Wait. What’s that?”

“What’s what—oh,” puffing your cheeks, you sluggishly reach into your pouch, then handing the mysterious item to Taehyung. It’s the brush set. Encased in a wooden box, he doesn’t even need to question if this is it because the logo that’s engraved in the bottom right corner says it all. “Here. It was supposed to be a surprise, but oh well. I got you that brush kit you were talking about—the whole set or whatever. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be restricted in what you create because you don’t have the resources to create.”

Taehyung doesn’t like blueberries. But Taehyung doesn’t like you either. You’re sour like the blueberries, just as he’d been when he lost her, but you’ve… somehow become sweet like honey, like this blueberry crumb cake. Sweet like blueberries get when you pick them at the right time.

“You didn’t have to get me this. You realize how expensive it is, right?”

You shrug. “I mean, yeah, I know how much it costs. I was the one who swiped their card, right? But… you deserve it, Taehyung, for all the work you’ve done. I’ve spent hours here, and I made some extra cash helping Namjoon out with his shifts a couple times. Don’t worry about it.”

Before he dives into the dessert and into his new toy, a sudden wash of confidence hits him, and the very thing he didn’t expect himself to do, he actually does. He learned a couple things from you, one of them being bold, and he’s finally able to put it to use. “Let’s… I want to take you up on the offer.”

“What offer?” Your face contorts into a perplexed one.

“Let’s go out on a date.”

You’ve briefly brought up your interest in “dry age steak” before, and Taehyung doesn’t quite get it, but it's his mission to find a restaurant that serves it.

Taehyung has a feeling that you’ll like the menu. You eat pretty much everything, inhaling in food like a vacuum but the way you talk about how chefs prepare this “dry age steak” that you’re obsessed with, kind of gives it away that you might bask in the flavors to truly appreciate the work behind it instead of engulfing it in one go. You’re strange. But amusing.

“W-Wow, who are you even?” Other than food, you’ve managed to suction the air from his lungs. He’s breathless, enamored by the way you look tonight, never expecting that you’d put this much effort.

“Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” With a little twirl and a soft smile, Taehyung chokes on his saliva at your unpredictable shift in personality. Skirts didn’t seem like your thing, but you really knew how to make something so simple look so good. “Something off?”

“You just look different,” he blurts, speaking his mind without hesitation before quickly correcting himself. “I mean, a good kind of different, don’t think of it the wrong way.” Taehyung winces, slightly fearing that he’ll be met with the impact of your hand, instead, he’s met with that melodic laugh.

“So, where are you taking me?”

It’s a nicer restaurant than you thought it’d be, mainly because Taehyung hasn’t made it clear if he had any feelings for you to even go to this extent. The lights are dimmed, candles are lit, and all the waiters and waitresses are in vests and blazers—and you can confidently say that this isn't seen often on your previous dates. The tables are draped with white cloths, silverware out by the plates with clear glasses for wine with a view out the window of the city lights.

Your hypothesis is right, Taehyung has to admit. You would be a better girlfriend, and after barely ten minutes of conversation over a basket of the complimentary bread and butter, he’s already determined that he might have a teensy weensy crush on you.

The bread cracks when you pierce your thumb through it, in an attempt to open and smear the insides with the little square of butter, and Taehyung suddenly doesn’t mind the sound. Then you do something he least expects—you’re handing it over to him.

He furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“For you, obviously. Take it first.”

Did you just give Taehyung your food first? Before yourself? The person who wouldn’t even share her bag of sour patch kids because they were ‘too good to give to other people?’ It’s a change of pace, and Taehyung isn’t sure what to do with this newfound information. But… admittedly so, he’s enjoying this.

Just then, a notification goes off on his phone.

Her.

She’s got a flat tire in the middle of the highway, and her frantic texts allude to the fact that she can’t get ahold of Yoongi, so the first person that comes to mind is Taehyung. And if Taehyung was being truthful to himself, he’d confess that the lingering feelings he had for her was fogging up his vision from his new ones for you, because he drops his linen napkin on his plate abruptly in the midst of standing up from his seat.

“Heading to the bathroom?” You ask, taking a sip of your iced water.

Taehyung shakes his head. “I gotta go. She’s got a flat tire.”

You pause, cup near your face but never reaching your lips again. “What? Doesn’t she have a boyfriend to do that? Or… I don’t know, AAA? Insurance?”

“She texted me. I should be there.” He shuffles on his coat that hangs on the back of his chair, sifting through his pockets for his car keys. “You should stay. Enjoy dinner—maybe even pack mine to-go so you can have it later. I’ll pay for the meal on the way out.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologizes delicately, as if he doesn’t have any options. “I’ll even get you dessert.” You don’t respond. “She needs my help.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, whatever.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Taehyung.” Your voice isn’t soft like it has been recently, only stern and firm, gaze still never meeting with his. “You’ve made your decision. You should go.”

Taehyung says your name, tone full of penitent but you weren’t having any of it. “I said, go. You’ll keep her waiting.”

When Taehyung arrives where she is stranded, he feels awful. Absolutely awful. Not even just because he ditched you in the middle of a date, but because Yoongi is there, already on his knees with the car on the jack, loosening the bolts of the tire.

“Oh, Tae, you’re here!” She exclaims, and the always grumpy Yoongi does a little wave in Taehyung’s direction. “Wow, and you look great! Was I interrupting something?”

Yes. “No, hah, I just… was at an event and you saved me from it.” It’s a lie that slips through his gritted teeth because he was truly enjoying the date with you until she messaged him. “See you got here on time, Yoongi.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, popping off the tire in the process. “But she’s fine, at least. I didn’t get a chance to text her back immediately when she told me because I was rushing over here so fast. Remind me to teach her how to change into a spare tire, will you? Feels like she’s spoiled for us both coming to the rescue—” He doesn’t even get to finish when she slaps his shoulder.

“Well, sorry, Tae, for rushing you here. I appreciate you coming, though! It means a lot, knowing a friend would come save me when I needed them.”

Taehyung used to think that Yoongi stole the girl that he was in love with and didn’t deserve her.

He’s starting to believe that Yoongi does deserve her, and it’s you that Taehyung doesn’t deserve.

You don’t answer his texts nor his calls, and he speculates that he hasn’t angered you enough to warrant blocking his number. Yet, you don’t show up to your night shift on Monday either, and Namjoon isn’t sure why you asked to switch shifts when Taehyung queries. Instead, Taehyung spots you while he’s clocking out in the morning, torn between feeling frustrated that you return his calls or sorry for cutting the date off short.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asks the moment you step into the library.

Blinking blankly at the boy, you toss another potato chip into your mouth from the bag in your other hand. “Uh, no… I’m standing right here in front of you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but you never responded to my texts or calls.”

You hum disparagingly, hurling your backpack over the desk. “Come on, Taehyung. Do you really think I want to reach out to you after what happened?”

“But I wanted to tell you how bad—”

“Taehyung, I don’t care.” You interrupt, rounding the counter to plop into your designated chair. “It’s done. It happened, we tried it and I guess I was wrong. I thought I’d be able to prove to you that I’d be a better girlfriend—your girlfriend, but it’s fine. We didn’t click, I got the hint and I’m not gonna push you.” Then, you casually throw your feet onto the table. If Taehyung broke your heart, he can’t tell at all. “Assholes that ditch their dates do that because they’re not interested. Could’ve just said that instead of constantly brushing off the topic, and even agreeing to go on a date with me. Ooo, you stooped low, pretty boy.”

He sighs, fingers carding through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not interested—”

“Did you forget that I said I didn’t care? Now git. I got work to do.”

“You’re just sitting—”

You pull a lollipop from your pocket, waving it in his direction. “Busy. I’m on the clock.”

“Then I’ll come back after,” he states, but you only shrug in return.

“Whaaaaatever.”

Taehyung actually keeps his promise, because eight hours later, he’s standing in front of the receptionist desk where you’re logging in returned books. “Uhhh, yes? How can I help you?”

“I came back to talk.” Eyes wary, his shoulders fall along with the frown upon his face. “I want to tell you that I am interested, and this isn’t a hoax. I genuinely think we’d be good together—that you’d be a great girlfriend for me, but I’m starting to realize that I’d have to be better to be a great boyfriend to you.”

“Cool,” you retort indifferently. “Suit yourself with whatever that is.”

Before Taehyung could say anything else, Jungkook comes in; hair slicked back, tight black tee and ripped, worn-out blue jeans and that stupid smirk on his face. Taehyung loves Jungkook, without a doubt, because he’s nothing but a loyal friend to him. Yet seeing him dressed like this, his trademark “fuck-me” outfit, like he’s going to swing his arm around your shoulder then take you to his car for a quick hook-up only makes Taehyung’s blood boil.

“Hey, Tae! I didn’t know you had work now.”

“I don’t.” Taehyung clenches his jaw. “Why are you here?”

“Picking up our lovely mutual friend here.” Eugh. Taehyung is tempted to slap that look off Jungkook’s face. “See you later?”

Taehyung has his grip on your shoulder and you glower at him. “Uh, Guk, do you mind starting the car up first? I uh… need to talk to her alone for a bit.”

Jungkook complies, waving goodbye to Taehyung one last time before showcasing those pearly white teeth. Taehyung will not be late again, refusing to lose another girl that he might be into. And if he loses to you Jungkook, it’d be the third girl he loses to one of his friends because he didn’t act smart enough.

When Jungkook turns, on route to his car, you click your tongue in amusement. “He’s got a cute ass, you gotta admit.”

“You’re kidding, right? The moment we don’t work out, you’re into Jungkook? Are you guys together now?”

“Uh, nope,” you respond, popping the ‘p’ when you pull a lollipop from your mouth. Where’d you get this new one from? “Doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve moved on. I’m over your rejection—although I still believe that you should’ve straightforwardly told me you weren’t into me—but either way, I’m good.”

Appalled by your audacity, he swears the words he wants to say only gets lodged in his throat.

“Well,” taking in a sharp breath, you pull your lips into a straight line. “I’m out. Good seeing you though, maybe I’ll catch you on our next shift.”

And with that, you’re gone.

Gone into the fucking arms of Jeon Jungkook and Taehyung cannot let history repeat itself.

The contrast between you and her is apparent. For one, you’re not effortlessly altruistic. Some would even go far as to say that you’re selfish, but Taehyung disagrees. He thinks you put yourself first, simply because you might’ve had experiences with being walked over, but that doesn’t mean you’re selfish. You’re not incapable of being considerate, and this shows when Taehyung gets sick and you cover his shift after working sixteen hours, still managing to gather enough energy to get him food afterwards.

Then, there’s the “girl’s next door” comparison. She’s the textbook definition of it—everyone’s first love, down-to-earth, supportive and approachable. But you’re… not evil enough to be a villain, yet close. There’s no devious plan up your sleeve, no motivation to do damage on anyone mentally or physically—simply just quick-witted and blunt, oftentimes viewed as intimidating from your rough exterior. You judge but you don’t actually judge people for things they’re interested in, only poking fun at the things that people don’t hold as a true insecurity.

And… that’s why you and him work. He doesn’t need a girl who sugarcoats things for him—he needs someone like you, someone who is honest enough to tell him that he’s acting like an idiot, someone who supports him in his endeavors, and someone who… well, truthfully, he kind of just wants you.

He’s praying he doesn’t make the same mistake with you.

“Why’d you ask me to pick you up?” Jungkook asks, readjusting his hair in the mirror attached to the sunvisor of his car. “I’m surprised you asked me to squeeze you in for a drive before heading out on my date. You’ve mentioned that you hated being my hook-up ride on the day of my—”

“Eugh,” you’re making fake vomiting sounds and Jungkook raises a brow at you. “Please don’t continue that.”

“Least answer my questions, will you?”

You frown, leaning back against the leather seat of Jungkook’s new yet used car. It still has remnants of the smell of cigarettes of the previous owner, and you’re genuinely curious as to why girls find it hot to makeout here. “I wanna go to that sub-shop across town.”

“Uh, why? You only go there when you’re sad. It’s so out of the way—”

Slapping his chest, Jungkook winces while rubbing the ache. “I’m sad, so drive.”

“Why are you sad, lovebug?” Grimacing at the pet name that he gives you, one that doesn’t match you very well, you turn to reach for the seatbelt. “Come on. You can tell me. I won’t judge you.”

“Kim Taehyung agreed to go on a date with me—”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing—”

“—then he ditched me.”

Jungkook’s jaw drops. “Bro that’s fucked up.”

“Ya think?” You roll your eyes. “So yeah, I wanna eat a yummy banh mi sandwich and go home with a full belly and a nap. Not really in the mood to think about that rejection any further. It would’ve been easier if he just said ‘no’ the first time around.”

But Jungkook doesn’t start the car. He sits there, the space between his eyes with the same amount of wrinkles as the questions running through his head. “Wait, but he wanted to talk to you in there. Taehyung isn’t the type to just… leave in the middle of a date. The guy would stay, even if it’s a bad date, it’s just who he is. Why’d he leave? Did he say why?”

“Mm, her. She texted him, and he dropped everything for her.”

Jungkook puffs his cheeks. “Really? Man, I’m sorry, lovebug. Should I cancel my date and accompany you to your favorite sandwich shop?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s fine, Guk. Please just drive me? Drop me off and I can take the bus after. I figured he might try coming with me, hence why I texted you. But… it would’ve been nice if he tried to chase me out here… just a bit.”

Jungkook is a loyal friend, Taehyung reiterates in his head when he sees the text that pops up on his lockscreen with the address to a Vietnamese sandwich shop thirty minutes away. There isn’t anything else attached to the message, just the location, and it doesn’t take a genius to get what Jungkook means by it.

Taehyung takes in a deep breath of courage.

He’s sort of a hopeless romantic, and that trait seeps through like a ketchup stain on a white tee, but it hasn’t been as obvious when it came to liking you. You’re certainly not the type of girl who receives affection well, let alone any type of positive reactions, but you’ve plainly accepted him the way he is.

Flamboyant gestures and amorously decorated words are how he expresses his love to the girl he’s infatuated with, and you continue to validate that you’re not like the past girls he’s fallen for because you’re the one doing the chasing.

So, needless to say, this is a new territory for Taehyung.

But having the roles reversed back to the one he’s familiar with makes it a bit easier. In fact, you never foresee this specific scenario because when Taehyung enters the little shop along with the ring of the bells above his head, you freeze.

It’s like the tiles of the floor are soaked in superglue because you can’t move. How did Taehyung find you here? Did you have your location on by accident? You’re supposed to seem like you don’t care. But you really didn’t think he’d find you here.

“Hey,” he starts off softly, rubbing his nape.

“Uhhhh, hi?” Your greeting is saturated in confusion. “What are you doing here? How’d you—“

“Jungkook,” and then a light bulb pops overhead. Explains why he was tilting to the side at a red light earlier. You figured it was because he was sexting, but he was talking to Taehyung. “And… I figured he meant that I should come. Make things up with you.”

Pursing up your lips, you turn back around to the worker at the counter who plays with his phone mindlessly, completely disregarding Taehyung’s confrontation. “‘Scuse me. How much longer?”

The teenage boy looks up. “Uh, give him like 10 minutes.”

You click your tongue before glancing over at Taehyung. “You’ve got 10 minutes.”

Truthfully, Taehyung doesn’t need ten minutes. It’s easy to let him in; he’s got a heart so pure, a love that’s so kind, and beauty that resembles those Greek Gods, except you wouldn’t tell him that. He’s got everything—from friends to love to creativity, and when he’s standing beside you, it’s like physically viewing the definition of polar opposites. But Taehyung makes it easy to love, easy to feel free and comfortable, easy to target him with a joke or insult and just laugh.

But Taehyung uses those ten minutes up to the last second, even when you’re timing him with your phone. And you let him, leading him on to think that he actually needs those ten minutes when in the end, you’d take him in anyway.

Forget the girl that made him hate blueberries. You’ll convince him to love them again.

“What—oh,” he moans, throwing his head back in pleasure. “Baby, we gotta be quiet, my friends are next door.”

“And?” There's that boldness again. You’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, practically sucking the life out of him and he has no control.

“My e-exes—it’s awkward.”

Pulling away, a string of salvia follows and the sight of you being so calm despite just having his dick stuffed in your mouth has his stomach churning. You’re so hot, and he never knew that your intrepid traits would seep into your sex life but he can’t necessarily say that he’s complaining.

“And?” You reiterate, wiping the side of your mouth with the back of your hand. “They’re always fucking next door. Why can’t we? Show them what they’re missing out on.”

Taehyung’s cheeks are flushing pink.

You were definitely not like any of the other girls he’s been with.

Straddling his waist, Taehyung’s heart races. The door is unlocked, both of his roommates are home with their girlfriends, and he can guarantee that the walls are pretty thin here. He definitely has heard Jimin jerking off one too many times.

But, you can’t even seem to gather enough fucks to care.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he misses when you line yourself above his cock, sinking your heat down and enveloping him because his breath gets stuck in his throat and his hands find purchase on your hips with a squeeze. “Oh fuck,” he groans, gasping for air.

“Oh, by the way. I’m quitting my job at the library.”

Taehyung’s head jolts up. “What?” Seriously? In the middle of sex? You truly never fail to surprise him.

“Mm,” you hum softly, palms pressed against the hardness of his pecs, gyrating your hips but Taehyung holds you down flush with him, brows furrowed. “Yeah, I quit. Why’d you stop me?”

“You can’t just blurt out important news while we’re having sex! Why’d you quit?”

Attempting to force yourself out of his grip, you groan when he overpowers you. Although your personality is far more dominant than his, you admit sadly that his strength is far more superior to yours. “Fine. I just don’t wanna work with my boyfriend, alright? It’s weird.”

Taehyung scoffs. “And why’s that?”

“Because… I don’t wanna be one of those couples.” Rolling his eyes, he suddenly flips the two of you, hovering over your body with his arms on either side of your head. You swallow, because truthfully, Taehyung seems like the one who makes the first move with his last relationships, but with you, it’s always been the opposite.

He’s strangely bolder today.

“Well, I wanna be one of those couples.”

“It’s sappy. Like some romcom. We started dating after working late nights at the library.”

He leans down to peck your nose gently. “And? I like that. I like how romantic we are, I like how different we are, and that we met in that way. Don’t disregard what made us, us.” You mimic a vomit and Taehyung kisses your forehead gently. “So… don’t quit.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Taehyung quirks a brow in response, pulling his hips back and slamming it back into you again. Letting a soft whimper escape your lips, you instantaneously cover your mouth with a hand, startled by your own reaction. He seems to be enjoying it, so he reiterates the motion. “Deep, baby? Come on, you can have more if you say you won’t quit.”

“It’s corny,” you mutter against your skin, and although your pout is hidden, he can still make it out. “I’m too cool—”

He thrusts harshly into you again. “—fuck, okay, okay.”

Taehyung grins in success.

Maybe blueberries weren’t so sour afterall. You’ve made them sweet again.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #gyukultfics

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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine. | 04

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 6.5k [4/6]

notes: we finally have a set chapter count! did this fic really need to be 6 chapters? absolutely not, but here we are! i’m hoping to have this fella finished up in the next month or so, but we’ll see how that goes given my track record. happy new year, everyone!

warnings: a little underedited bc i’m lazy, shower sex!!! mild? exhibitionist tendencies??? reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty, but what else is new 🤷🏻‍♀️

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

“I swear to god, I am going to amputate your arm with a rusty hacksaw if you elbow me one more time.”

Undeterred, your brother prods you again, pouting at you from his spot in the driver’s seat. “I just want another chip, Noona. Don’t be so mean.”

“Are you a baby bird?” you ask in disbelief, gaping at the way he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. “Seriously, I’m not feeding you. Get your own chips if you want them so badly.”

“But I’ve gotta keep both hands on the wheel,” he replies cheekily. “Ten and two positions, at all times.”

You frown. “Didn’t they change it to nine and three?” Nonetheless, you reluctantly reach into the bag in your lap, pulling out a potato chip and delivering it to his waiting mouth. “Next one’s going straight into your nose,” you warn as he happily crunches down on the snack.

Jimin simply offers you a beatific grin in between chews. “Love you too.”

“Nope, I changed my mind. Next one’s going up your ass.”

Your brother has long since grown used to your threats. “Kinky,” he chuckles as he merges smoothly into the next lane over. The song on the radio shifts into something more upbeat, and Jungkook is quick to start humming along under his breath from his spot in the seat behind you. Within minutes, it’s morphed into a singalong, and the offkey warbling of all seven passengers—no matter how dissonant—is a perfect soundtrack for the remainder of the drive.

The beach, when you arrive, is awash with tourists and locals alike, all clamoring to lay claim to a prime stretch of sand and a decent parking space. Jimin manages to snag a spot just as someone else is pulling out, and the rest of you are quick to disembark and scope out the beach for somewhere to set up camp. Plopping your bag down onto the sand, you rifle through it until you find your sunscreen, mentally patting yourself on the back for buying the spray instead of the cream.

“Can I borrow that when you’re done, Noona?” Taehyung asks, watching you wrench off the cap.

You nod, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure. As long as you help me get my entire back.”

“Deal.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, you shimmy out of your shorts and begin applying sunscreen to your arms and legs. Taehyung peels off his t-shirt, and you spray him down too, making sure to coat his entire back before he takes the bottle and does the same to you.

“I might have gone a little overboard,” he admits once he’s done, capping the bottle and tossing it back into your bag. Warm hands settle onto your exposed shoulder blades, deft fingertips rubbing the excess product into your skin. “There, that should do it. All better.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You turn around and reach out, wiping at a stray fleck of the white lotion on his bicep. “You’ve got a little bit here too, hang on—“

“Mind if I borrow this?”

You turn at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. The dark-haired young man is standing there with your sunscreen in hand, his gaze zeroed in on the way your fingertips linger on Taehyung’s bare skin. Awkwardly, you pull away and nod, hoping that neither of them can hear your heart pounding erratically against your ribcage.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s all yours.”

Jungkook grabs his white t-shirt by the collar, tugging it up and over his head in one smooth motion, and you swallow at the way his taut abdomen flexes as he tosses it aside. “You’ll help me get my back too, won’t you, Noona?”

You nod, moving before he can even finish his sentence. Your feet carry you across the sandy ground on autopilot, and Jungkook exhales audibly as your palms smooth along the golden expanse of his muscular back, dipping down to the waistband of his black swim trunks. Ever since his visit to your bedroom last night, you’ve been itching to touch him—to feel every last inch of him. It’s impossible with your watchful brother and group of nosy friends hovering around though, so you settle for this—rubbing sunscreen into his warm skin while he sprays down his arms and legs.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmurs once you’re done, soft enough so that only you can hear and raising gooseflesh on the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll let me repay the favor.”

Then Yugyeom is calling his name, and Jungkook sprints down to the shoreline to join his friend in the crashing surf, his face creasing with laughter. Each time he emerges from the waves, droplets cling to his skin like glistening diamonds in the sunlight. It’s impossible to look away from the sight, and your tongue darts out to moisten your lips as you watch water drip off his hair and down his nape, pooling in his collarbones before he shakes his head like a dog and sends it spraying in all directions.

All that sunscreen is going to waste, a tiny voice in your head points out, but it’s hard to worry about that when you’re too busy following the path of the water streaming down past his dusky nipples to the ridges of his abdomen. And it’s almost as if he feels your gaze on him, because he’s suddenly staring right back at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come on, Noona,” he calls, raking a hand through his drenched hair. “The water’s fine. Don’t make me drag you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you call back, immediately regretting it when something equal parts mischievous and dangerous flashes across his face. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before, and you back away nervously as he emerges from the waves and saunters toward you. “Jungkook—”

“Yes?” he asks, his voice dropping down into a low purr. “What is it, princess?”

You edge around the towel that you’ve laid out in the sand, as if such a flimsy barrier could stop him in any way. “Just—just don’t dunk me under,” you plead.

Jungkook looks genuinely offended by that. “I would never,” he says, laying a hand over his heart and grabbing yours with his free one. “Now come on—let’s get you wet.”

You groan at the innuendo and try to tug free from his grip, but Jungkook only tightens his grasp, cackling the whole way down to the water.

///

The sun is just beginning to set, streaking the blue sky through with wispy strands of orange and gold, when Jimin raises his hand and declares it dinner time. For the past two hours, you’ve all been engrossed in a very tight three-on-three volleyball match with Jimin serving as referee, and upon hearing your brother’s declaration, Minho looks about ready to chuck the ball into the ocean.

“Dude, are you fucking serious? We’re literally two points from winning!” He gestures wildly at an invisible scoreboard only he can see. “No way we’re stopping here. I refuse on principle.”

“Yeah, I wanna see who the real winner is, too,” Jungkook drawls from the other end of the court, where he’s flanked on either side by Taehyung and Yugyeom. “I mean, we’ve been leading for most of the tournament, so…”

Minho scowls. “And we’re about to win the whole damn thing. Just you wait, Jeon.”

Behind him, you and Taemin exchange helpless glances. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jungkook and Minho squabble over the years, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Both possess a razor sharp competitive streak and a certain pigheadedness that only emerges when it comes to athletic endeavors, and luckily, your brother knows this just as well as you do. Heaving a sigh, Jimin wearily gestures for them to continue, resuming his post at the end of the net. “Fine, fine,” he mutters. “Next point wins.”

On the other side of the net, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “I’m good with that if you are.”

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho retorts. “It’s our serve. You ready?”

Jungkook smirks. “Bring it on.”

Minho cracks his knuckles and tosses the ball over to you for the serve. “All right then, let’s fucking do this.”

You sigh. Taking a deep breath, you heft up the ball, testing its weight before hitting it smoothly over the net. Yugyeom jumps up to intercept, batting it back over to your side, and Minho attempts to spike it back and into the sand. Unfortunately, Jungkook is too quick, and dives down to bump it back over to you. The back and forth continues like this for a while—you see Jimin boredly scrolling on his phone out of the corner of your eye—and you’re strongly considering calling it quits when Jungkook smashes the ball over the net and into the ground right at Minho’s feet.

“And that’s game,” he declares proudly, raking his sweaty hair off his forehead with a triumphant grin.

“Are you finally done?” Jimin asks, rolling his eyes and pocketing his phone. “Thank god. Can we eat now?”

Jungkook claps him on the back in affirmation, ignoring Minho’s loud, adamant protests that your team still technically won. Together, you head back to where your towels and bags sit in the sand, grabbing bottles of chilled water out of the cooler and fishing for snacks. Jimin pulls a package of hot dogs out while Taehyung rips open a bag of chips, and you follow their lead and grab the hamburger patties and buns. “Huh, I swear I bought ketchup,” you mumble to yourself as you rummage through the half-melted ice in the cooler. “Is it not in here?”

“I have it.” Jungkook materializes at your side, proffering the little red bottle. He’s pulled his white t-shirt back on, the material a stark contrast to his tanned skin, and you silently rise to your feet to take it when a sudden wave of lightheadedness rushes over you and sends the world spinning.

“Whoa,” you gasp, swaying on your feet. “Oh, god.”

Jungkook frowns and drops the ketchup bottle, steadying you until most of your weight is leaned against him. “Noona? Are you okay?”

You swallow, hard, and try to shake the unexpected bout of dizziness away. “I don’t know. Got dizzy, all of a sudden. I think I might have stood up too fast?”

Gently, Jungkook presses the back of his hand against your forehead. “You feel pretty warm,” he murmurs. “Have you had enough water today?”

“I thought I drank plenty, but maybe not,” you admit, and he nods decisively and gestures for you to follow him.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s grab some water and go somewhere quiet so you can rest. Minho isn’t going to shut up about that match anytime soon, and it’s cooler down by the water.”

You laugh weakly. “We did technically win, you know. We had one more point than you guys.”

“God, not you too,” Jungkook sighs, casting you a playful look over his shoulder as he digs two bottles of water out from the cooler. He uncaps one and hands it over before taking a swig out of his, and you take a grateful sip, relishing in the cool liquid that trickles down your throat.

Nearby, your brother and the rest of the boys have commandeered one of several firepits scattered around the edges of the beach. They’re piling up pieces of driftwood and some of the long, tall sea grass that Taehyung has found, and Jungkook waves at them as he slowly guides you toward the ocean with a hand on your back. “We’re gonna go find some more wood!” he calls, and Jimin raises a hand in acknowledgment before turning back to the firepit.

Water laps gently at your toes as you and Jungkook walk along the shore, washing away all traces of your footprints. The sun dips below the horizon at last, illuminating the sky in one last burst of red and orange and gold that slowly fades into deep purples and blues as night falls. The temperature dips as the moon ascends to her lofty throne, accompanied by a smattering of starry pinpricks. Most of the beachgoers have packed up and left by this point, and here, with nothing but Jungkook’s quiet, familiar presence and the lapping waves, you feel more at peace than you have in a long time.

“You know, I’m really glad I came this weekend,” you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you. Your gaze drops down to your toes, fixing your attention on a pearly white seashell that’s sticking out from the wet sand. “I think you were right—I really did need a break from everything.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that,” Jungkook says, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you say it again? Something about me being right?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jungkook casts a quick look over his shoulder, and when you follow the trajectory of his gaze, you notice just how far you’ve gotten from the firepit where the others are sitting. Darkness has settled over the beach, the sand painted a wan silver from the light of the moon, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand finds its way around yours.

“Jungkook—” you begin, but trail off when he twines your fingers together and gives your hand a squeeze.

“They can’t see us, Noona,” he murmurs. “Relax.”

Easier said than done, you want to say. Nevertheless, you suck in a deep breath and take another sip from your water bottle, trying to ignore the way Jungkook swings your interlocked hands between you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we be trying to find more driftwood?” you ask after several long seconds have dragged by. “We need way more if we’re gonna keep the fire going.”

Jungkook hums softly and veers inland, until the sand beneath your feet is dry and starts sticking to your wet toes. You come across a few scattered pieces of wood, dried out by the sun, and tuck them beneath your arm. Likewise, Jungkook gathers a few pieces of his own, hefting them up before reaching out to take your hand once more. His fingers slot all too comfortably into the spaces between yours, and your heart stutters a few times in your chest before plunking down into your churning stomach.

Nighttime has well and truly settled over the beach by the time you and Jungkook start picking your way back over to rejoin the group around the firepit. You pull your hand out of Jungkook’s well before you reach the ring of orange light that the flames cast across the sand, your arm now swinging free at your side and your fingers cold from the loss of his warmth. Silently, you hasten your pace and plop down onto the towel that Jimin has spread out, stretching out your legs toward the fire and wiggling your toes.

“Where have you guys been?” Jimin asks curiously. “You just kinda wandered off.”

“Getting more driftwood,” you reply, gesturing at the small pile you’ve dropped at the edge of the towel. “We told you that’s where we were going.”

Jimin frowns for a few seconds before the memory resurfaces. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Jungkook snorts and takes a seat beside you, dropping his stack of driftwood on top of yours. “Dumbass.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Jimin retorts.

“You’re both dumbasses,” you sigh.

The fire crackles merrily, sending orange sparks up into the velvety black sky. There’s a grill situated over the flames, loaded with hamburger patties and hot dogs, and you watch as Jimin tears open a bag of hot dog buns and begins to place them around the edges.

“Hey, can you throw me the hamburger buns?” he asks you. “I wanna try toasting them.”

“You’re gonna burn them,” you tell him flatly. Nonetheless, you locate the second bag and toss it over, watching as he makes more room on the grill.

Dinner is a loud, chaotic affair, filled with laughter and conversation and plenty of booze to go around. Jimin has procured a flask of whiskey from somewhere in his clothing—an impressive feat in and of itself, considering he’s only wearing swim trunks and a thin blue t-shirt. You wave him off when he offers you a sip, and he shrugs and throws back a generous swallow himself. Then he offers it to Jungkook, who shakes his head and raises his water bottle. “Designated driver,” he says. “I’m sticking to water tonight.”

Curiously, you glance over at him. “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t planning on drinking, so I can drive us back.”

“With the way you were looking earlier?” Jungkook fixes you with a look of pure disbelief. “Not a chance. Besides, we’re going back to the real world tomorrow, and the last thing I need is to be hungover. I have to get us back home in one piece, not to mention the entire menu I still have to memorize for work.”

You hum. Jungkook has mentioned his new job a few times—a summer stint working as a server at a new restaurant opened by a family friend named Seokjin. “Right, I remember you saying that. You start on Monday, don’t you?”

“Dinner shift,” Jungkook confirms. “I stole a whole bunch of pens from Junghyun’s room the other day in preparation. Jin said I’d probably end up losing two-thirds of them by the end of the week.”

“That sounds about right,” you tell him with a laugh. “Some guy stole my favorite pen last summer when I was working at that diner on Main. Lesson learned, forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “Yeah, I bet.”

You grin. “But, hey, seriously. If you need me to quiz you on that menu, I’ve got time to spare.”

“Honestly, I might take you up on that offer. I have flash cards, and everything.” He uncaps his water bottle and takes a long sip, his throat bobbing with each swallow, before glancing back over at you. “What about you? You ready for your internship?”

You sigh and offer him a helpless little shrug. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, to be honest. I don’t think I’m going to stop stressing about it until I get through my first day. The entire thing still doesn’t feel real.”

“I get that,” Jungkook hums. “Well, I can imagine it, at least. I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through, since I’ve never had an adult job, but—“ He shrugs a shoulder halfheartedly. “I can kind of relate, I guess.”

“All jobs suck a little bit,” you tell him, and Jungkook lets out a derisive huff of agreement.

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, and the two of you tap your water bottles together before rejoining the conversation with the rest of your friends.

///

The drive back to the lake house is shorter than you remember it being—though that might be because you spend most of it watching Jungkook drive. He steers with one hand slung carelessly over the wheel, his expression relaxed as he sings along to whatever pop hit plays on the radio. Unloading the car is a team effort, though you hear no shortage of complaints from Jimin as he heaves the cooler over the threshold of the house before collapsing atop it in a pile of limp limbs.

“Thanks for leaving me to carry this thing by myself,” he snarks, not even bothering to raise his head. “Really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Taehyung scoffs, tossing a game console at him. “Have a beer and pick something to play. We’re waiting on you.”

You watch as your brother immediately hops up and darts over to join the rest of the boys lounging in the living room, fighting back the sudden wave of exhaustion that washes over you. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, hiding a yawn behind your hand. “Goodnight, guys.”

A chorus of goodnights and see you in the mornings rings out in response, and you wave before heading down the hall to your room and into the adjoining bathroom. Your hair is crusty from being submerged in the salty water of the ocean, and a shower to rejuvenate your dehydrated skin is just what you need. Turning on the tap, you wait until it’s flowing warm before stripping out of your clothes and tossing them onto your bed to deal with later. Then you step into the shower and tilt your head back, letting the water stream down your face and soak into your hair.

You’re midway through squeezing a generous dollop of shampoo into your palm when there’s a soft knock on the door. “Noona?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the sound of rushing water, low and lilting like a song. “You left kinda fast. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

You cap the shampoo bottle and replace it on the shelf, peering out from behind the shower curtain. “I’m fine,” you call, hesitating before you steel your nerves and continue. “You can come in, if you want. I don’t like yelling through the door.”

Slowly, the bathroom door eases open, revealing Jungkook standing in his and Jimin’s shared bedroom. His brown eyes are wide as he takes in the sight before him, and you have no doubt that he’s thinking about just what the palm tree patterned curtain is hiding from his view. Your lip finds its way between your teeth when you notice him shuffle his feet awkwardly for a moment before stepping a little closer to where you’re standing beneath the spray, his mouth opening to speak.

“Join me?”

The invitation slips past your lips, unbidden, but you have no intention of taking it back. Not when Jungkook’s gaze darkens to obsidian at those two simple words, his mouth snapping shut and his hands already reaching for the hem of his white t-shirt. Not when he strips it off in one smooth motion to reveal all the dips and ridges of his abdomen, his skin golden even under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lights. And certainly not when he pulls aside the shower curtain and joins you beneath the spray, his dark eyes appreciatively raking up and down your bare figure.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a low purr.

“Hi,” you respond, reaching out and trailing a fingertip down his chest.

And then you’re dropping down to your knees, your tongue darting out to tease at the tip of his already rising cock. One hand finds its way to his balls while the other traces the line of his pelvic bone, and you smirk when you feel him let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Someone’s eager.”

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, humming, and Jungkook’s fingers fly into your dampened hair. “Oh, fuck. You’re really trying to kill me, huh, princess?” he asks, and you respond by taking a little more of him into your mouth, laving at the vein running along the underside of his length before hollowing your cheeks. Jungkook throws his head back, a deep groan escaping his parted lips, and you preen under his encouragement as he urges you to take him deeper.

You’ve just begun to settle into a rhythm—figuring out exactly how much pressure he likes and what makes his hips buck—when he suddenly pushes you away. “Jung—” you begin, only to have him silence you with a searing kiss, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you to your feet.

“Wanna fuck you properly,” he rasps. His hand finds its way between your legs, experimental fingers sliding through the wetness that’s gathered there, and your cheeks heat up when he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean. “Just let me go grab a condom,” he whispers urgently. “Don’t move a muscle, okay? I’ll be righ—”

You silence him with a hard kiss. “Don’t,” you mumble. “I’m clean. Are you?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes wide. “Does that mean… I mean, are you…?”

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur. “Fuck me raw, Jungkook.”

A sharp gasp escapes you when Jungkook cages you against the cool tiled wall of the shower, the slick surface dampened by the spray from the showerhead. He grabs ahold of your thigh and hoists it up to wrap around his waist, and you’ve never been more thankful for the ugly fish patterned shower mat that your mom insisted on putting down to prevent slipping. Jungkook nestles into the newly created space between your legs, his cock hot and slick against your center, and you keen when he grinds against you in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek. “Feel how hard you get me, Noona?”

“God, Jungkook,” you breathe back. “Just fuck me already, will you?”

His answering chuckle sends a shiver from your toes to your crown. “So needy,” he murmurs, his hand sliding from your thigh to your hip. His mouth seeks out yours as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, meeting little resistance as he slowly begins pushing inside. Your walls part willingly for him and your lips do too—his questing tongue slipping inside when you moan and beginning his seemingly endless task of mapping out every corner of your mouth.

“God, I forgot how big you are,” you breathe when he bottoms out—the entirety of his hot, heavy length sheathed within your walls. Your head falls back against the tile as he rolls his hips experimentally, a moan that sounds vaguely like Jungkook’s name escaping your lips. Your arms come up to brace on his shoulders as he picks up his pace, but he intercepts one of your hands and twines your fingers together, settling them onto the wall just to the left of your head. His other hand returns to your thigh to keep you stable and spread out for his increasingly harsh thrusts, and you whimper helplessly in his ironclad grip.

“That’s it,” he whispers, groaning when you clench around him. “God, you’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Fuck me open, then,” you moan back, squeezing his hand and meeting his next thrust with one of your own. Jungkook’s breathing stutters, and you laugh breathlessly at the way his mouth falls open at the spike of pleasure. Emboldened, you grind against him, the spray from the shower easing the movement. “Jungkook, please.”

He chuckles hoarsely. “Careful what you wish for,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, punctuating the warning with a harsh roll of his hips that sends all remaining thought flying out of your head. In this moment, there’s only Jungkook—his dark hair dampened and dripping, the spray from the showerhead slicking his chest and pooling in his clavicle before trailing down each ridge and dip of his honeyed skin. His lips find yours again, and you sigh into the kiss as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

“Hey, Jungkook! You in there?”

Your eyes fly open at the new voice, your body tensing when there are several loud bangs on the door. Jungkook freezes mid-thrust with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, his throat bobbing nervously as he fights to find a response. You can practically see the gears whirring in his brain, and shove uselessly at his chest in an attempt to escape his steely embrace.

“That’s Jimin,” you hiss urgently, turning his face toward yours and prodding his cheek until his gaze refocuses. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Dude.” Jimin’s voice is laced with irritation. “I wanna brush my teeth! What the hell are you doing in there?”

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between you and the closed bathroom door. Then he inhales deeply, pressing a light kiss to your furrowed forehead before pulling the shower curtain closed, ensuring there are no gaps. “I got you,” he murmurs softly, his brown eyes boring into yours. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin, but they fly open again when Jungkook breaks away and yells for Jimin to come in. Warm palms slide soothingly down your sides, but that doesn’t stop you from tensing up when the bathroom door creaks open, your brother’s soft footsteps approaching the flimsy palm tree patterned curtain.

“Have you been showering this whole time? Jeez. Leave some hot water for the rest of us, will you?”

Jungkook chuckles. Ever so slowly, he pushes forward until he’s fully seated inside you again, and you do your best to level a glare at him even as pleasure flares at the base of your spine. “There’s plenty to go around,” he says. “Relax.”

You get the distinct feeling that he’s not just addressing Jimin anymore. Jungkook pulls back until only the top of his cock remains nestled in your folds, and you open your mouth to berate him but all that comes out is a low moan when he sinks back inside you in one swift push.

On the other side of the curtain, you hear the faucet turn on. “Man, I can’t believe we leave tomorrow,” Jimin says over the sound of running water. “The weekend flew by.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, brushing a thumb across your clit. The pace he’s set is slow and deep, and is made all the more sensual by the steam that’s steadily building up in the small room. You try once more to push him away—to quell the growing ache between your legs—but it’s all in vain as he chuckles softly into the crook of your neck, his bare shoulders quaking. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a wicked little whisper that’s immediately lost in the spray of water. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?”

You don’t have a chance to answer. Jimin starts speaking again, this time accompanied by the sound of toothbrush bristles scrubbing against his teeth. “I’m starting up at the studio as soon as we get back—isn’t that crazy? I mean, I’ve never taught anyone how to dance before. Not really. Not for real.”

Jungkook snaps his hips up so sharply that you nearly mewl in surprise, forced to bite down into his meaty shoulder to muffle the noises that threaten to escape from your throat. “You’re a great tutor, man,” he says, his voice steady even as he resumes his slow, lazy thrusts, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls. “You’ve been helping people with math for, what, two years? What makes you think it’ll be any different with dancing?”

Jimin spits into the sink and sighs. “I don’t know. It’s scarier because there’ll be more people, I guess. Tutoring is one on one, y’know? And at the studio, I’ll have a full class of people watching me. Every single move I make, they’ll be looking at. That’s fucking terrifying to think about.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s hips still, his cock buried to the hilt in your cunt. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, backed by the relentless spray from the showerhead, and Jungkook leans down to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, his hair dripping.

“You’re a great dancer, Jimin,” he says once he’s pulled back and straightened back up to his full height. “Best one I know. You’re also one of the smartest people I know, but right now, you’re being really fucking dumb.”

There’s a clatter that sounds like a plastic toothbrush being dropped into the sink, and Jimin lets out an affronted squeak. “Hey!”

Jungkook just chuckles, his shoulders quaking. “It’s true,” he says easily. “Seriously, man. You don’t have a thing to worry about. You’re gonna kick ass out there, and your class is gonna be awesome. You’re already, what, almost maxed out on the number of registrants? You’re already killing it.”

Your brother lets out an unintelligible grumble on the other side of the shower curtain, but you can still hear the smile in his voice no matter how hard he tries to mask it. “All right, you fucking sap,” Jimin says at last, his soft footsteps padding toward the door. “Hurry up and get out of there, yeah? You’re really gonna use up all the hot water.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you immediately smack Jungkook in the middle of his stupidly toned chest. “Oh my god!” you hiss. “Are you kidding me right now, Jeon? We could’ve been caught!”

“But we weren’t,” Jungkook replies easily, shaking his dampened hair out of his face and fixing you with an indolent little smirk. “So why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me now?”

///

The next morning brings with it a whirlwind of frenzied packing, and you mentally congratulate yourself for preemptively gathering all of your belongings together last night. Minho is wandering every last inch of the house with a piece of half-eaten toast dangling from his mouth, and you can hear Taehyung in the distance asking if anyone’s seen his strawberry body wash. Jungkook is seated on the floor near the front door, his brows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out in a pout as he fights to close the zipper of his suitcase.

“Got it!” he exclaims after a few seconds, triumphant. “Where’s your stuff, Noona? I’m gonna load the car.”

You begin to stand up from your spot on the couch. “It’s in my room, let me go get—”

Jungkook is on his feet and halfway down the hall before you can even finish your sentence. He returns a moment later with your luggage in tow, shooting you a grin and a wink as he passes by. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs. “Remember?”

Of course you do. You remember like it was yesterday—because, well, it was yesterday and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You remember the moment you shared at the beach and the way his hand felt so right wrapped around your own. You remember the way you’d dropped to your knees for him so readily in the shower last night. And you definitely remember the way he’d fucked you afterward—slow and deep in the best possible way, even with your brother’s untimely interruption.

After what feels like an eternity, both cars are finally packed and ready to go. You bid goodbye to the boys who are riding with Jimin, promising to stay in touch, before climbing into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s beat-up sedan. Jungkook himself is already lounging behind the wheel, his sunglasses perched low on his nose as he fiddles with his phone. He looks up at your entrance and flashes you a smile, tapping his screen a few more times before holding it up so you can see.

“I changed your contact photo,” he says. “Like it?”

You peer at his phone, and something in your chest clenches when you see the photo he’s selected. You’re on the beach beside the volleyball net, illuminated by the setting sun. The sky is streaked through with pink and orange behind you, but through some editing magic, Jungkook has made it so that you are glowing even brighter in the foreground—with laughter etched across your face and the wind in your hair. It’s a beautiful photograph, and you tell him so, unable to contain the dangerously warm affection blossoming in your chest.

“I love it,” you say. “I usually don’t like having my photo taken, but wow. You have a talent for this.”

Jungkook’s smile grows. “I have a pretty muse,” he replies, and your cheeks warm.

The door to the backseat opens with a bang, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound. “Yo,” Yugyeom says, plopping down and buckling his seatbelt. “We ready to roll?”

Jungkook scowls and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Careful with the door, man. I need this thing to last through the summer.”

Yugyeom puts his hands up in apology, and Jungkook turns back to face the front, starting the ignition with a flick of his wrist. The engine sputters to life, and Jungkook waits for Jimin to pull out first before following after him, tailing the van out of the driveway and onto the winding road that will take you back into the city.

“Music?” you ask, gesturing at the stereo.

“Go for it,” Jungkook replies. “You want my phone so you can put on the roadtrip mix?”

“Sure.”

With the help of the upbeat music and Jungkook’s tendency to drive just a touch over the speed limit, you make it to the winding roads of Yugyeom’s neighborhood in what must be record time. “You missed the turn,” Yugyeom says lazily from where he’s sprawled across the entire backseat. “Turn left here—we can circle around and approach from the other side.”

Two more turns and a descent down a steep hill later, Jungkook manages to successfully drop Yugyeom off at his house. The drive across town takes no time at all, and before long, you’re cruising into your neighborhood, coasting past Jungkook’s driveway and straight into yours.

“Looks like we beat Jimin back,” you remark, looking at the empty spot where the van usually sits.

Jungkook hums. “Makes sense. He has more people to drop off.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

The sudden awkwardness that falls doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Clearing your throat, you reach for your purse, grabbing it from where it’s fallen to the ground near your feet. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you begin, turning to open the door.

A strong hand wraps around your wrist, forcing you back into your seat. “Is that it?” Jungkook asks, and there’s an edge of something you can’t quite place in his voice. “Are you gonna go back to pretending like there’s nothing between us?”

You shake him free. “There isn’t anything between us,” you whisper. “We’re not on vacation anymore, Jungkook. We’re back home. Back to real life. We can’t do—whatever it is that we’ve been doing.”

“But you’re attracted to me,” Jungkook growls. “You like me. So why do you keep running away?”

A sigh escapes you. “Jungkook, it doesn’t matter if I like you or no—”

He interrupts before you can even finish your sentence. “Yes it does. It’s the only thing that matters.” And then he’s pulling you into his chest, taking advantage of your skewed sense of balance, and crushing his mouth to yours.

This kiss is different from the others you’ve shared so far. It’s hungry and passionate, and yet it’s tinged with something else—something that feels strangely akin to desperation. Jungkook kisses you with urgency, and it’s so raw and unbridled that it steals the very breath from your lungs and leaves you lightheaded.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word when he pulls away. Instead, he reaches down, popping the handle that opens the trunk and stepping out to pull your suitcase from within. Silently, he presses the handle into your hand.

And then he’s turning—climbing back into his car and leaving you with nothing but the memory of his lips and a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

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