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cobaincreates · 3 years

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the fuck is a touron? pt. 2

warnings: language, mention of drugs & alcohol, smut (wrap it you're smart), very brief oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 9k+

part one is here! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! also remember when i said this has been sitting for a couple months?? welp, it’s been longer than that...oops. but it's all yours now!!! :)

taglist is always open. have a lovely weekend! photo cred

— — —

3 weeks earlier

a loud blare jolted you awake.

“what the fuck?”

you scrambled to stop the noise, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. your head knocked into something hard as you twisted and tried to assemble your brain.

a clatter of what sounded like several bottles came from your right. the sound still rang out into the room—which was where exactly?

as you got to your hands and knees and shuffled against what felt like carpet, you remembered vaguely that you’d gone out last night. the carpet and dark room didn’t tell you much else. but the trilling alarm was enough to set you into a search to find that out.

“shut that off!” a voice yelled from behind you.

your hand knocked into more bottles and you grappled for one, feeling the familiar shape of a glass beer bottle. someone groaned in front of you then a blinding light pierced across your eyes. you sucked in a breath, dropping the bottle and covering your eyes.

what, were you a vampire? you peeked past your fingers to a parted curtain letting in a sliver of sunlight. you saw a little more of where you’d been, the light trail full of bottles and some sprawled legs and arms.

the alarm cut off suddenly. soft snores and labored breaths filled the silence now, along with a pounding in your ears so intense, you would’ve thought you were still hearing the alarm. a slow, gradual ache formed in the center of your forehead.

you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the light. a sparkling stiletto caught your attention, but it wasn’t on a foot. you looked around the room and spotted its twin near the back of a couch. crawling over, you found liza laying on her back with her hair messily splayed around her.

she was yawning while her phone lit up her face in a soft glow. when your eyes met, she whispered, “hey.”

you faintly remembered her setting an alarm on her phone somewhere in between jell-o shots and body shots. or was it after the jäger bombs?

you let out an oomf as you collapsed beside her on your stomach. your head didn’t let up the pounding. you made a noise, your words muffled against the stale-smelling carpet.

“what?” liza said, not having heard any coherent words.

you turned your head, the carpet scratching your cheek. “i said, nurse me back to health, please.”

“i told you not to do those lines,” she said, shaking her head.

“what?” you said a little too loudly, earning a few shh!s in return.

“i’m kidding,” liza laughed.

you grimaced, mostly at her but also at the hair in your mouth. you reached up to remove it and sat up while liza looked at her phone.

“what time is it?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder around the room.

no one else had moved from liza’s wake-up alarm. your vision was clearer now and you took in the trashed room. bottles lay everywhere, a few staining the carpet in dark puddles. a lamp was on the floor, its shade across the room over someone’s head. it was warm considering the blackout curtains keeping the morning sun out and you couldn’t imagine sleeping in here any longer.

your head pounded again as liza said, “noon.”

“can we go? i might throw up from how hot it is in here.” you pulled at your dress, wanting nothing more than to get under some cold water.

liza sat up and looked around, dropping her phone into her lap. “i need my other shoe.”

“it’s over here,” you said and crawled to retrieve it for her.

she put it on, her dress riding up her thighs before she stood and pulled it back down. you took her offered hand so she could help you up. your heels sank into the carpet and you looked down, finding a soggy spot where beer had seeped in. you frowned and grabbed ahold of liza’s arm to find your way out.

your small crossbody clutch was resting on the couch cushion and you reached for it over a girl’s sleeping form, careful not to wake her. she made a small noise and you snatched it quickly, feeling the weight of your phone inside.

liza ordered an uber to bring you back to campus. it was fifteen minutes away and you panicked for a brief moment from not knowing where the hell you were. last night was a whole blur apart from arriving and getting into the swing of things. you remember dancing and drinking and having fun with liza and a few other friends. it wasn’t usual for you to sleep at random people’s houses after parties, but last night must have been a little more eventful than others.

you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sank into the back of the uber driver’s car. luckily, you didn’t get someone hopped up on coffee or blasting music. it was quiet and calm, enough so that you closed your eyes.

speaking of coffee, you could really use one. and food. and a shower. had you really slept on that nasty carpet last night? you shuddered and opened your eyes.

fishing out your phone from your clutch, you saw a few notifications from last night and the past few hours. you ignored them for now and unlocked your phone with the goal of texting one of your friends who worked at the diner in town and begging him to have your usual ready when you got there. it was all you could think about as your stomach rumbled.

but when you unlocked your phone, your eyebrows drew together. your screen opened to an internet tab, a little plane logo at the top corner.

“why the fuck did i buy a ticket to the outer banks?” you blurted to no one in particular. well, maybe to your friend beside you, who lived in the outer banks.

liza lolled her head toward you on the back of the seat, not at all looking as concerned as you felt. “you’re visiting, remember? i talked you into buying it last night.”

“why?” your head seemed to throb even worse.

you couldn’t go to the outer banks. you didn’t have the money for it and the ticket on your internet browser said you’d even bought a round trip one. god, why had you done that? you were saving up for the summer. you were saving up to see so much more than the outer banks. as much as you loved liza, and you knew she’d love to have you there, you would be wasting a weekend. how were you going to tell your boss that you needed off at such short notice?

liza shrugged beside you. “because my dad will be gone for a whole weekend and i’m throwing the biggest party ever and you love me and you promised to dance to ‘back that ass up’ with me there.”

“oh my god,” you groaned and dropped your phone into your lap. you rubbed your pulsing temples. “i can’t go, liza. i really need the money.”

“hence why you have a job—said job will pay that back in a week. you’re fine,” she waved her hand and turned back to the window.

“i need to work that weekend,” you argued. just thinking about asking for it off had your skin crawling.

“you can take time off. you never do.” liza shrugged, looking at you again. her face softened when she noticed how distraught you were over it. “look, if you really don’t want to, then just cancel it. it’s okay if you don’t come.”

your fingers came away from your head as you saw that she was being genuine. she may have joked around with you a lot, but she meant it when she said that.

friday

getting time off wasn’t easy. your boss acted like the ultimate villain in a boss level from a video game, having you go through all of these obstacles just to get three days off. you understood it, you were short-staffed anyways and it was hard, but you couldn’t help feeling as though they were a little harsh on you. it was always a fight to get time off, even when you showed up every day, on time, and did your work without complaint.

right after you talked to your boss, feeling the ultimate amount of shame over requesting three days, you searched high and low for someone to cover your shift. turns out, it wasn’t all that difficult to begin with since one of your co-workers—who just had a baby and was still a full-time student—told you they’d appreciate the extra hours. you felt instantly better afterward until your boss asked you to fill out three separate sheets for the time off. no, you couldn’t just write the three days on one sheet. it had to be three. separate. sheets.

it was completely ridiculous and uncalled for. you fumed for a while, pressing way too hard on your pen as you filled them out. once you set them on their desk, all filled out properly, you reminded yourself you could quit soon. just a few more months of the semester and you’d be gone.

the next day when you came in, your boss had allegedly lost those request papers. and funnily enough, they allowed you to put the weekend dates on one paper this time. you’d stared at them for a whole three minutes, paper in your hand and tongue between your teeth with angry words just dying to get out. you can quit soon. you can quit soon.

the weeks dragged by before the day finally arrived and you left for your flight. it was only when you got off the plane that the hours started to fly by. it was colder this time around, which you didn’t mind, even on the breezy ferry ride. you were looking forward to campfires and cozy sweaters.

you hopped off the ferry around noon and right into liza’s waiting arms at the dock. she was overjoyed about you visiting and you knew all the trouble with work was worth it just to get away for a little. you were young, there was no shame in a little time off, and liza was right—you’d already earned the money back for the ticket.

liza’s dad was bustling around their house when you arrived, packing like a crazy person on a time crunch. he threw a hello at you as he shuffled past with an armful of socks and possibly underwear, which had you lifting an eyebrow at liza. she shoved your arm and took your bag into the guest bedroom.

“where’s your dad running off to? can i go?” you teased, dropping your backpack onto the light green comforter. the white walls seemed brighter this time, but you accounted it for the new sheer curtains over the windows facing the back of the house.

“he’s going on a business trip. and no, you can’t. his girlfriend is going with him.” liza left your bag near the dresser and hopped on the bed, the comforter sighing under her weight.

“girlfriend? aw, man.” you frowned dramatically and lay on your stomach beside her. “do we like this girlfriend?”

“she’s very...” her left eye squinted as she thought. “eccentric. like, i don’t know how to take it. he seems happy though.”

“like, weird eccentric or crazy eccentric?”

“i don’t know. i haven’t breached the abortion topic with her yet. that could be very telling, don’t you think?” a playful smile hinted at her lips.

“totally telling,” you agreed.

minutes later, you were waving liza’s dad off as he pulled out of the driveway, liza standing a few steps in front of you. once he was gone and out of sight down the drive, liza turned back to you with a flourish and a cheshire grin spread on her face. you laughed as she pushed you into the house and began jumping excitedly. music started playing somewhere in between the jumping, which promptly turned to dancing in the kitchen. having a whole house to yourselves was always a thrilling thing.

it wasn’t long after that that liza told you to get ready for a party at the boneyard, as she called it. you had no idea whether to take that literally or just go along with it and be surprised. you went with the latter as you changed out of your airport clothes.

as you were heading that way, you thought about that one fling you had the last time you were here. what was his name? something rich, with a t. tom? trenton? no, no, something obscure. topper. god, you nearly forgot about him, but now that you were visiting again, you wondered if he was around. in the middle of the semester seemed like your luck would be out.

liza was slowing the car as you thought to text topper, just to see if he was here. you hadn’t talked since that summer—what was it? seven months ago? you hadn’t felt the need to keep in touch. didn’t he say to shoot him a text when you were in town again? you supposed there was no harm in doing so. what could be the worst thing to happen? maybe he wouldn’t be in town, but you wouldn’t be all that bummed about not having a hookup. you weren’t as ravenous as you were in the summer.

“are you getting out?”

your head turned and you found liza standing with the door open, her keys dangling from her hand. you hadn’t noticed that the car had parked or that you’d arrived at wherever the boneyard was. the beach was right in front of you, just over a small crest in the sand. you could smell it slipping into the car from where liza held the door propped open.

you opened your own door and hopped out, the gravel crunching under your shoes. you were glad you opted for a sweater with the early spring wind from the water as it blew over your shoulders and tangled into your hair.

a handful of people were already on the beach, stripped driftwood scattered around. most used them as seats while there was a fire already going and drinks in their hands. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, a giddiness filling your chest. this was exactly what you needed and the perfect setting for it.

liza pulled you into a group with some familiar faces that you had met the last time around. small talk was immediately flowing and you couldn’t care less for it, but you welcomed it anyways. liza was quick to guide you to the next group and the next before you finally got comfortable with a drink in hand. you sipped it steadily and ditched your shoes with liza’s, sticking them under a piece of driftwood behind where you stood. one of liza’s friends was asking you about your degree, something along the lines of why you had chosen it. you couldn’t comprehend it fully as your eyes drifted around the sand where people stood in small groups and larger ones.

standing near an overturned lifeguard post that was sure to be rotting away was none other than topper. he was facing away from you, but you had no doubt in your mind that it was him. his hair was blonder than it was when you met, funnily enough in the colder months. he wore a sweatshirt (blue or dark green, you couldn’t tell) paired with shorts and (surprisingly) sneakers.

you turned back to liza’s friend, giving them a somewhat vague but good answer. you then excused yourself and split from the group to head in topper’s direction. you stopped just outside of his larger group and crossed your arms, holding on to your beer by the neck loosely. it took a minute or two for topper to notice you, obviously feeling a presence behind him and doing a double-take. you already had a smirk on your face.

“holy shit, hi.” he blinked rapidly, turning away from his friends.

“hi,” you laughed. both of you went in for a hug at the same time. topper pressed your waist firmly to his while you hugged him around his shoulders.

“it’s good to see you,” you said.

“yeah, you too.” there was surprise in his voice and features as if he never thought he would see you again. your hand slipped down his arm as you pulled away before you took a step back, your hands resting at your sides.

“how have—“

“hey! the touron’s back!” a voice over his shoulder shouted.

you looked in its direction, finding a menacing smirk on an all too familiar face. you couldn’t remember his name as he sipped arrogantly on a beer, perched on the rotting lifeguard’s post.

you found your own sweet smile and raised your free hand to flip him off, which only egged him on more as his laughter filtered out. you were instantly annoyed, although you didn’t show it as he had brought unwanted attention to you and topper. you were sure most of the people in this larger group had been on topper’s deck that day in the summer.

topper looked at a loss for words when you turned back to him, his eyes still on you. you were glad he wasn’t laughing at his friend’s comment.

“can i get you another drink?” he gestured to the bottle between your fingers and you glanced down, seeing that it was a sip away from empty.

you gave him a nod as you said, “sure.”

the sun was setting by the time you got a refill, the glass cold against your palm, and wandered off with topper toward the water. conversation flowed as you caught up, shrugging as you told him all you had been doing was working and studying. you were lucky if you got to go out and have fun once in a while. topper expressed the same, talking animatedly about college and visiting home for the weekend to see his friends.

you wondered what he was like at college, if he spent most of his quieter hours in the library reading articles or if he was the type of friend to take up guard in the kitchen at parties. it was easy to imagine him in those situations since you hardly knew him. his smirking friend certainly didn’t seem the type.

you flicked some wet sand into the water, imagining the waves bringing it back to settle at your feet. topper stood beside you, the wind tousling his locks. you had just mentioned how your mother had bought a new coffee machine and how your dad canceled it because there was no point in having two. your mother just figured it would be easier having two so no one had to wait on the single-cup brewing system. it made you laugh and roll your eyes when you heard about it over the phone. topper had been smiling the whole time as he listened, his head inclined like you were whispering.

a rush of heat had slithered down between your thighs when you caught his eyes a couple times. he was just watching you as you spoke and you couldn’t help but smile flirtatiously, wondering if he was thinking what you were thinking.

how you were imagining last summer and the feel of his hands on your skin. you wished you’d gotten to know more of him; if he had any scars or little beauty marks that you didn’t notice the first time. it was easy to imagine it, but you had the burning curiosity to see for yourself.

you needed to take a break, to get a gulp of air before you drowned in the thought and jumped his bones right here and now.

“i should go find liza,” you said abruptly even though no one had been speaking. “i’ll see you around?”

topper nodded without a word and you caught a glimpse of confusion on his face, but you walked away. you let out a deep breath as you felt the wet sand turn dry under your feet. the sky was an inky pink behind you, windshields on cars reflecting it back.

you wrapped an arm around liza when you found her and she smiled knowingly. you didn’t have to ask if she’d seen you with topper, it was quite obvious in such an open area.

topper took up his place with the group you took him away from, but this time he was facing your way. you closed your lips around your bottle, staring back at him as he did the same thing. a shiver went up your legs, goosebumps exposing to the crisp air around you. you had to look away before you walked over there and kissed the hell out of him. your heart was behaving rather poorly now.

but could you help it? every time he looked at you as the sky grew darker and the bonfire grew larger, every obscene image possible took shelter behind your eyes. your mouth dried out so many times that you eventually had to get another drink and another. topper wasn’t making it easy and you started digging holes with your feet just to stay put.

you wouldn’t go to him, you made that very clear to yourself. if topper wanted you, then he’d have to make the first move. stubborn as it was maybe, but you’d torture him if you had to like he was torturing you now with all of these looks under his lashes. christ.

“my god,” liza said into your ear as she stood on the driftwood behind you, arms around your neck. “you’d think topper was a starving man.”

“shut up,” you laughed and looked at a fallen log in the fire pit.

“i’m serious. you guys have been undressing each other for an hour and a half now. just go over there and make out with him.”

you smiled into your drink, keeping your eyes far away from topper, or else you might actually do just that.

“there’s hardly any pda going on as it is, we need entertainment,” liza sighed.

“there’s your entertainment,” you nodded your head toward a rowdy group of young high schoolers shouting at each other. three of them looked angry as all hell and there was a bit of shoving before one of the older college boys broke it apart.

“that was short-lived,” liza frowned as she hopped down from the driftwood.

“you want another drink?” you asked her as she finished off her last one.

“yes, please!” she beamed as you took her bottle and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. you headed for the stocked cooler and grabbed two beers. as you stood, topper was making his way over.

“you have any plans after this?” he asked without much preamble.

you smiled, pulling the tops off and taking a sip from your own, eyeing him as you did. that flicker of heat made its way back between your thighs, warming you all over. you couldn’t deny the suggestion in his question excited you and you were giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being patient.

“nope, i’m all yours.”

topper smiled slowly, his eyes flicking to your lips as you licked them. okay, maybe jumping his bones here and now wasn’t a terrible idea. but you needed to string this out, you wanted it to last—whatever it was.

“i don’t want to leave yet though. i’ll come find you?” it implied that you’d make him wait longer than you really would, but it was satisfying to see him practically drool at the thought of what was to come.

liza was giddy when you went back over, either for the beer or when you told her that you’d be going off with topper for a little. she smirked, knowing exactly what for, but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and not without you.

you didn’t make topper wait long. when you were ready, another beer in and a relieved bladder, you touched topper’s elbow as he talked with his friends closer to the cooler. the ice was partly melted, but there were still plenty of drinks left. the fire was feeding off sweltering heat, and with the cold wind, it was perfect.

“hey, you ready?” you asked when topper turned to you.

you weren’t sure exactly what topper had in mind when he had asked you if you were busy for the rest of the night, but not having a clue thrilled you a little.

“yeah,” he nodded and took the last sip from his beer. his slid his hand up, capturing yours before tugging you along toward the parked cars. hardly anyone was over there. you could faintly hear voices and sounds from inside a few cars, some windows cracked. your fingertips warmed as your heart beat, pushing blood to every corner.

topper’s jeep came in sight and you tried to remember the inside. was there enough room for both of you in the back seat? or maybe you’d share one of the front ones. it didn’t matter to you, as long as he put his lips to use.

your back met the side of the jeep as topper leaned his hands on the window, caging you in. you were quick to close the space between you, either the beer taking the reins or your lack of patience from the past few hours of being here and having a staring contest with him. your breaths mingled and your hands grabbed fistfuls of his sweatshirt to pull him closer. the familiar tingles spread between your thighs and you wasted no time in showing him how impatient you were.

“i don’t think either of us is fit enough to drive, topper,” you breathed when you had the chance.

there was no way you could drive with everything you drank. topper tasted like the beer too, but you weren’t sure if he was fit enough to drive either. you didn’t want to chance it, nor could you wait that long.

“what do you want to do?” he asked against the skin of your neck, his nose skimming up the side. he pressed a few kisses, getting closer to your jaw.

you tilted your head back against the door and sighed, closing your eyes momentarily then opening them to find a few stars winking at you. there were so many once you focused on them. topper interrupted your gaze, pulling you by the back of your head to his lips. he kissed you as if you were his last meal, his tongue licking into your mouth. you moaned, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. you remembered him being this much of a good kisser.

“let’s find a spot on the beach,” you suggested, only getting a kiss on the corner of his mouth before he pulled away.

his eyes were blown wide, his hair ruffled. if you looked hard enough, his cheeks were sure to be flushed, both from alcohol and excitement.

“seriously?” he asked, his hand stilling on the back of your head.

you laughed and nodded, brushing a lock of his hair. “yeah, why not?”

a cold wind blew, tossing your hair into your eyes. topper caught it and pushed it back to its spot behind your ear.

“i think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he joked.

you grinned and slid your hands down his chest. “do you have a towel?”

topper had to pick his jaw up off the gravel before he finally moved away from you and opened his jeep. he ruffled around in the back then finally pulled out a blanket.

“very resourceful,” you commented as he closed the door.

“never know when you might need it,” he said as he threw it around you, shielding your bare legs from the wind. he turned again to the jeep and bent over the driver’s seat to get something. you saw it was a condom when he turned back and closed the door.

“also resourceful.”

he laughed then took your hand back in his. you headed back toward the beach but in the opposite direction of where the bonfire was. it was quieter the further you got, nothing but the waves coming into the shore. it was darker too; all the more private.

topper took the blanket from you and settled it down. you took a seat as he fixed a corner, swiping sand that had gotten on to it. once he sat beside you, he pulled you back against his lips.

you knelt up and scooted closer, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you swung a leg over his waist. you sat in his lap and hummed as you felt him against your thigh. he squeezed you closer in response.

“i’ve never fucked someone on a beach before,” you admitted as you slipped your hands under his sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, pushing them up.

“i’ve never fucked anyone outside before.”

“what?” you pulled away to look down at him, your hands freezing on his chest. he was breathing deeply and you swore you felt the patter of his heart against your fingertips. “really?”

“yeah,” he shrugged and glanced over your shoulder toward the water. “just never had the chance to try.”

“what do you mean? you live on an island.” you let his clothes fall back down, stopping above his belly button. “i’ve been here twice and i’ve seen at least twenty ideal places that would be perfect for it.”

“i don’t know, i never asked anyone and no one asked me.” he shrugged again and you knew you were looking way too into this, but it seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this at least once before. you knew that if you lived here, you would’ve done it countless times.

your hands slid back up. “well, tonight’s your lucky night.”

you pulled topper back to your lips, tongues meeting. his hands rubbed along your back and you couldn’t help but arch into him as he slipped them beneath your sweater. his hands were so warm that it felt as if he set fire to your skin. you moaned and sunk your teeth into his lip briefly. a shiver wrecked your body just as topper’s hands came around to your front, sliding up to your breasts. you felt your nipples peek at the contact and topper made it even worse when his thumbs brushed over them.

“christ, it’s cold,” you mumbled as another shiver came and went.

“mhmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure that’s what it is.”

you laughed and wanted to swat at him. instead, you swallowed that little bit of nerves edging close to the surface and reached a hand to his lap. you watched as topper’s lips parted as your hand squeezed him over his shorts. the fabric was soft as topper grew harder. you relished in his expression, the way his eyebrows were drawn together, and how his jaw flinched when he closed his mouth.

topper’s hands fell away as you stood. he looked ready to pull you back down until he realized what you were doing and watched closely as you pulled your shorts and underwear down together. you kicked them aside and shivered as another wind blew.

sitting over topper again, you knelt up onto your knees to pull his shorts down. you couldn’t help swallowing at the sight of him. as dark as it was, you could still see him pretty well. your hand wrapped around him, solid and warm in your palm. topper groaned and leaned back on his hands.

“where’s the condom?” you asked as you stroked him, not at all in a rush with your hand around him.

topper registered your question and patted around the blanket for a moment before holding a square packet between his fingers. you took it from him and bit down on an edge, ripping it open with your free hand. you took the rubber between your fingers and spat the packaging somewhere. topper’s breathing became swallow all the while you stroked him. you stopped and rolled the condom onto him then leaned forward for a kiss.

topper reciprocated, his hands grabbing ahold of your hips until he pulled away to look up at you.

“what if you get sand in your vagina?” he asked, an innocent tone wrapping around his voice.

you couldn’t help the smile or the way your eyebrows furrowed all the while wanting to laugh. that’s what he’s thinking about?

“nothing that hasn’t happened before. it usually takes a couple of days to get rid of but i’ll be fine.”

the topic didn’t stop there. “does it hurt?”

“no, i’ll be fine,” a small laugh slipped out. “that’s why we have a blanket. and i’m on top. can we stop talking about sand getting in my vagina now? it’s kind of killing the mood.”

“sorry,” he shook his head, an embarrassed expression taking form.

you snorted, laughter bubbling up your throat. how did that question even come about in his head? you supposed it was nice of him to care about such a thing. you hoped your laughter didn’t make him feel more embarrassed.

his expression morphed into an amused one and he joined in, laughing at his odd question. you both shook with laughter for a few moments until you calmed down. topper squeezed his fingers on your hips, dragging his palms down your thighs. you brought your lips back to his and your hands to his chest. pushing him gently, you went with him as he lay down. you stayed against him for a couple more seconds before sitting up over him and finding him in your hand again.

topper groaned and gripped your thighs as you brought him into your heat. you couldn’t find your breath as you took him all the way in and sat over him, feeling completely and utterly filled. he was in your stomach, under your skin, everywhere.

“fuck, yes,” you panted, branding your palms on his stomach, pushing his sweatshirt and shirt up again. he was flushed from head to toe, something you were slowly building up to be.

you started off rocking back and forth slowly, feeling him pull and glide inside of you. when you dragged your clit against his skin, which was getting hotter and hotter with the friction, you couldn’t help the way your body tightened around him.

“y/n. oh, fuck—you gotta bounce for me,” topper choked out underneath you, moving his hands to your waist to grip tightly.

you nodded without words, not really finding any with your tongue tied. your hands pushed against his stomach as you lifted yourself up, letting almost all of him leave you empty. then you slammed down, moaning as loud as you could. you didn’t care. not one bit. you were still aware of the bonfire happening yards away, but you didn’t care if someone from the party was walking this way and heard you. let them hear how good topper felt inside you.

a quicker pace was set, sweat building in the creases of your knees and under your hands planted against topper. you loved this. all you could think about was how good it felt, how you fucked topper hard and fast—and how you were getting to fuck him again. it was so much better than the first time, even though you loved having him behind you then. this was just as good.

topper was sitting up again, your sweater rubbing against his and your body feeling way too hot. his hands gripped your ass tightly, helping you rock your hips over him. you were close, closer every time your clit brushed against him at this angle.

it became too much very quickly. you held on to him by his hair at the back of his head, gripping so tightly your knuckles were probably white, and reached your other hand down to touch yourself. your moans were growing higher and more frequent and topper was full-blown panting in your face. when you reached your end, a strangled sound came out of you. you stilled over topper, pulling more of his hair as you came over him.

not long after when you were moving again over him, your mouth on his neck and arms around his shoulders, his grip tightened on your ass as he came. you hummed and gave a few pecks just before he let go and fell onto his back. you followed, moving off of him and laying on your side.

“how long are you here?” topper asked minutes later, his breathing leveling out.

“i leave sunday morning,” you said, blinking tired eyes open as a wind blew over you.

“can i see you again?”

you smiled, your eyes shifting to topper beside you. “don’t you mean can you fuck me again?”

his lips spread wide and if his eyes were open, you had a feeling he’d be rolling them. laughing, you pushed yourself onto your elbow and touched his cheek.

“liza is having a party tomorrow. you should come,” you said quietly, leaning down to brush your lips over his.

“okay.”

“that was easy.”

“it doesn’t take much to convince me,” his voice was tired, piquing your interest.

“am i that good?”

all you got in return was a low laugh.

“i’m taking that as a ‘hell yes’ so thank you very much.”

topper let out a noise just before he moved, pushing you onto your back. his lips landed over yours, gentle and thorough.

saturday

it was a blur of drinks and games and dancing at liza’s house. every room was filled and it was hot for a few hours until you stationed yourself out on the deck with topper. you could lie and say that you didn’t sit out there just to make out with him, but that’s exactly what you did. it was perfect—even more perfect when his shitty friends didn’t show up with him. if you hadn’t been so distracted by his mouth, you would’ve thanked him then and there.

hours later, you had met topper at the front door. you informed liza of your new plans and she was more than happy to get you out of her hair, especially when her eyes latched on to someone and she started to drool into her drink. you grinned fiendishly at her and quickly went on your way.

topper was unlocking his front door and your legs were still a little tingly from the drinks you had over the past few hours. your hand absentmindedly ran along his forearm, needing to feel him so you could stay grounded and alert.

“if you don’t open this door, i’m going to fall asleep right on this porch.”

topper laughed, his keys jingling in his hand. it was a few more seconds of him trying without a light until he eventually found the keyhole and the door swung open. there was a rug that the bottom of the door brushed over and topper walked ahead of you, leading you in by the arm you refused to let go of. he was warm and solid. if you let go, you might evaporate.

your eyes adjusted with the lack of light in the entryway as topper closed the door behind you, sliding the lock into place. your skin felt like it was humming, the hairs on your arm standing up as you stayed close to topper. his shoes scuffed as he kicked them off, his keys dropping onto a table near the door while his other hand wrapped around your wrist. he lured you in by heat alone and you leaned in. your lips landed on his shirt, but you moved them until you found warm skin past the neckline.

reaching down, you found the strap of your sandals and worked to get them undone. why you wore sandals was completely lost on you as you struggled. topper grabbed ahold of you so you wouldn’t fall while your lips pressed a few more kisses into his neck. his hands were searing against your shirt and your skin pricked with the need to have them everywhere.

you kicked off your shoes, feeling your bare foot brush other pairs as topper grabbed ahold of your neck. you didn’t know where he was leading you until his lips landed against your cheek. he adjusted to where he meant to land and opened your lips with his own, coaxing your tongue with his. you moaned as if you were melting, your hands moving along his back as your body relaxed into his. another noise slipped from you, your hands moving down to his hips. one of them you let venture further until you felt him straining against his jeans.

topper gasped, his breath fanning over your mouth and down your neck. you grinned as you squeezed him just so you could see how he’d react.

it was cut short by light flooding the room and burning behind your eyelids. you flinched, parting from topper and squinting.

you were doing so well with no interruptions.

“topper? oh—i’m sorry,” a voice came from your left and you held your eyes open long enough to see a woman standing there, her hand falling from the light switch.

you suddenly remembered where you were holding topper and you dropped your hand, a hot blush crawling up onto your cheeks. you shuffled away from topper faster than he did at composing himself. was it wishful thinking to hope this woman didn’t see where your hand was placed a second ago?

“mom,” topper breathed, hiding his lack of breath well. your own heart was beating so loudly in your ears you figured the woman could hear it too in the entryway.

you averted your eyes, embarrassment dousing you from head to toe at the fact that you’d been caught by topper’s mother.

“we’ll be in my room,” topper said. his hand engulfed yours and you couldn’t remember how to use your feet or legs. “night.”

you kept your head down as topper tugged you past his mother, her robe flowing with the movement. he guided you through the unlit house until you came to his room.

“christ,” he sighed and dropped your hand to close the door. “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s inevitable when you live with parents,” you shrugged and laughed, looking over your shoulder as topper rubbed his hands down his face. when he dropped them, he shook his head with an amused smile.

you turned back to his room and glanced around, the light a little brighter from the open windows. the decorations were the same, but for the most part it didn’t look all that lived in. you moved to his bed and sat at the end of it, running your hands along the comforter and remembering the last time you were here.

your eyes found topper’s like a magnet. your skin pricked with that awareness of him. reaching, you pulled your shirt off and let it fall beside you. topper watched, his eyes following every movement you made, his gaze moving over you like liquid.

you held your hand out towards him, coaxing him over where you sat. he approached until he was in front of you and even then, you pulled him closer with your hands on his hips again. your eyes fluttered shut as he came between your legs and touched your face, bending down to plant kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose. your thighs tightened around him, your hand dropping back to its original spot before you were interrupted. topper kissed you on the mouth then, his tongue hot and invading.

you pushed your palm into him a few times and rubbed until his breath was heavy in your mouth. even though you were kissing him and delighting in the ways he could use his tongue, your mouth felt dry for him. a moment later, your fingers glided up to the button of his jeans, working determinedly to unfasten them.

when his shirt was off and his jeans were unbuttoned, you nudged him backward, slipping from the bed and onto your knees. you pressed your lips along his stomach, feeling it tighten under your mouth as his hands brushed your hair back.

“tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you said quietly, looking up at him as your fingers fisted the waistband of his jeans, slipping into his boxers too.

topper heaved a breath and nodded. you pressed another kiss just beside his belly button as you tugged on his bottoms, pulling them past his hips and leaving them to rest just above his knees.

you didn’t waste any more time. you took him into your mouth within the first few seconds of him smacking his stomach. he moaned with your lips around him and held your face as you licked him thoroughly. you couldn’t stop once you started and it took everything in you not to give him that release as his hand tightened on your face and his hips began to move.

he didn’t protest or get upset when you pulled away, licking your lips and standing. he just kissed you deeply and you wondered if he liked the taste of himself in your mouth. you certainly did.

all of your blood was gathered at your center. your skin was bubbling to a boil and topper helped you cool down, shedding the rest of the clothes between you. your hands wandered all over him as you sat back on the bed, pulling him with you.

you separated for only a second to kiss just under his ear, panting, “i want you inside me. now. i have an IUD.”

topper’s hands paused, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast. “no condom?” he asked, pulling away further to meet your eyes.

you nodded, biting your lip to keep from putting him inside you now. “as long as you’re okay with it?”

“are you sure?” his eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t tell if he was worried about you or if he really didn’t want to.

you nodded again as you were having trouble finding words without your breath. “have you been tested lately?”

“before i came home. i’m clean,” he said, his hands moving again and squeezing your thighs.

you grinned as your stomach rolled. you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and smiling against his lips. “me too,” you managed to say and laughed as the excitement poured over.

topper’s skin suddenly felt too hot, but you couldn’t pull your hands away from him if you tried. more blood rushed in between your legs. topper kissed you a few times before pulling away and leaning forward, his hand moving to your lower back to hold you upright while his other landed on the comforter to hold himself up. you drew your legs up around him and tugged him closer, breathing heavily as you anticipated his next move.

he swallowed thickly and averted his eyes down, his hand leaving your skin to grab ahold of himself. you bit your lip as you watched, seeing him swollen and ready and practically dripping. your stomach rolled into a tight ball as his hips grew closer and you bit your lips shut as a noise of surprise left you, floating around the room, when topper dragged his head along your folds painstakingly slow.

as much as you wanted to close your eyes to completely let your senses take over, you lifted them to topper’s face. he closed his eyes as he poked his head at your entrance. when he started to slip inside slowly, his mouth opened and his hand went back to hold you. you held your breath as you felt him inch after inch, filling you and stretching you.

his head fell to your shoulder once he was completely inside, a muffled curse leaving his lips.

“oh my god,” you said at the same time as he said, “god, you feel amazing.”

his hips retracted slowly, just as slow as how he entered, and his lips guided back to yours.

“c-can you move back a little?” he asked. the angle was probably straining him unlike you.

you nodded and didn’t have to do all that much as his hand kept you close to him, keeping himself inside of you, as you moved further onto the bed. you laid on your back and moaned as topper started to move, pinning your hips below his.

“you need to be quiet,” he said.

“why?”

“because my mom is right down the hall.”

“so? she obviously knows what we’re doing.”

“still.”

“oh, topper,” you moaned a little louder, a smile curling the corners of your lips.

topper’s hand landed over your mouth. you laughed into his palm and opened up to bite on his finger.

“you should move that hand a little lower,” you suggested, rolling your hips into his.

topper laughed breathily and a moment later, moved his hand to your neck. his hips drew back then and he thrusted, harder than before.

“oh, fuck,” you panted, tightening your hold on him.

“you like that?” he asked, his fingers flexing on your throat.

“mhm,” you managed, your face screwing up. “just like that.”

you sucked in a gasp, your breath staying in your lungs as topper did it again. you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but feel everything he was doing to you from your throat to him between your thighs. your back arched, pushing your breasts into his chest. you cried out the next time he thrust, hitting you so deeply, your nipples peeked to hardened points. fuck.

“don’t stop,” you couldn’t stop gasping. “please, don’t stop. it feels so good.”

tears pricked your eyes as he did it again, picking up a rhythm and sticking to it. his hand let go of your throat and gathered your hands into his, pinning them above your head as he fucked into you. the harder he went, the more your nails dug into the backs of his hands. his fingers tightened over yours and you cried out with your hips smacking. he didn’t cover your mouth this time, suddenly not caring if his mom heard you. you didn’t care either, you wanted this to go on all night. hopefully it would.

tears spilled when he didn’t let up his grip or his pace. they fell more as he drove into you quicker. it hurt so good, you couldn’t breathe. you didn’t dare open your eyes to see if he was enjoying it too. you hoped he was, you hoped he was loving pinning your hands down, driving into you like an animal. you didn’t know topper had this in him.

his hand let go of one of yours but you left it where it was as his thumb flicked your clit. your breaths grew higher within seconds and you tightened around him, your free hand flying to his arm where your nails dug in deep. you couldn’t stop the cry bubbling in your chest even if you wanted to. it was going to come out whether you liked it or not and topper wasn’t doing anything to muffle it.

“fuck—i’m going to come,” he sighed, his voice strained. was he losing it too? “come for me, please, baby. come with me.”

“top—” your muscles spasmed and everything exploded. you cried out his name however many times as you came over him, feeling him do the same as he thrusted and emptied inside you. his spurts were heavy and warm as his face buried into your neck, his mouth slick one moment then his teeth latching on to you. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled at his hair as he bit you, not hard enough to break the skin, but it still hurt so good.

“oh my god,” you panted as topper lay limp on you. you could feel both of your orgasms dissipating as your juices mixed and dripped out of you.

having let go of your neck, topper licked over the pulsing spot and lifted his head up to look down at you.

“are you okay?” he asked, sweat collected along his hairline. his thumb brushed your drying tears away.

“that was—i—topper,” you shook your head, wishing you could find the words. “i feel very good right now.”

he laughed, shaking your body with his and making you moan as you felt him rub inside of you. “i’m glad,” he said, kissing the underside of your jaw. “i think we need water and snacks so i’m going to go get some.”

“mmm. that’s a good idea.” you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe his sweat away just to feel it on your fingertips. you were spent.

he smiled and pecked your numb lips before sliding out of you and getting up.

cleaned up and under the covers, topper laid out an array of snacks and water bottles. you sat propped up against his pillows while he lay on his side, his head propped against his hand.

“will you come back next summer?” he asked, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

you reached for the cereal bowl of chocolate and stopped the smile from stretching across your face. “maybe.”

“i was looking for an answer more along the lines of yes.”

“you’ll have to be more persuasive then,” you hummed and chewed.

“i can be persuasive.” he was grinning and you couldn’t help thinking that he never looked better. tired, hair messy, dressed in just boxers, completely sated.

“oh yeah?” you raised a brow at him.

“mhmm,” he nodded, putting the fruit down and moving onto his hands and knees to crawl towards you. he grabbed ahold of the comforter and pulled it back a little, revealing your chest to the cool air. his head lowered to press a single kiss to the swell of your breast. then he moved to the other. he pressed a final kiss to your shoulder.

“how’s that?”

you shrugged the shoulder he just kissed and kept the smile off your face. mostly.

topper grinned again and it reached his eyes. he looked over you, down your chest, then slid his hand under the blanket to your thigh. “am i getting closer?”

you gasped and grabbed onto the back of his neck as his fingers ran up the inside of your thigh. heat swirled between your legs. “definitely.”

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes⭐️

@tovvaa @taylathornton @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @clearbolts @jjmaybankzz @macey730 @twinklelilstarkey @disrecpectful @mrs-cameron @jjcanloveme @igotmajordaddyissues @ohhersheybars @malar-region @honeyyhemmings @dvakat

#topper thornton #outer banks #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x fem!reader #topper thornton obx #topper thornton smut #topper thornton imagine

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vminity21 · 4 years

Text

Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: handyman!namjoon X preacherskid!reader, bestfriend!taehyung X pregnant!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 10,958

Genre: mysterious/angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): strong language use, semi-detailed childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping, lots of flashbacks but that is the point of the story i sorry; Rated: 18+

Summary: A sheltered life leads to harbored secrets that are buried in order to protect someone you are falling in love with. As the time is nearing for the life growing inside you to be welcomed into the world, the reminiscences of all the moments unfold to reveal a beautiful story that needed to be told.

Credits to: @suhdays for making such a phenomenal header! The talent she has never ceases to amaze me!

The graying of the clouds is all you can see beyond your window other than the panging rain droplets now trickling upon the glass. Arm resting against your forehead, your lips press into a straight line in response to the series of thoughts circling your mind. Carefully, you slide your palms upon the mattress in an attempt to sit up, wanting to see more of the view besides the crying sky. Knuckles curling to rub your tired eyes, you furrow your brows, the comforting warmth of the bed covers remain tangled between your shins. Leafless trees border the side of the building save for a small swing set; a paved section decorated with a basketball hoop where a large shed stands many feet across from it. If one is to step outside the front of the structure, there sits a church surrounded by a gravel parking lot where the neighboring land hosts a barbed wire fence with an abandoned house and field.

It's been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you've been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, "Oomf," a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn't one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

"So, when are you going to tell us?" The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver's side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it's been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor's appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, "we have a right to know."

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you're freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, "Oh!" You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, "Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?" Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can't help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you've decided since your first doctor's visit that you do not want to know your baby's gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you're more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

"Oh Namjoon, you scared me," a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you're okay," he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

"It's no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,"

His dimples show from the way his lips press in a tight smile, nodding in reply, timorously turning to waltz to the outdoors in preparation of the day ahead. You watch until he disappears from your line of vision; the creep of a blush burning from your chest to your cheeks. Raking your hands through your hair, you force yourself once again to deny the attraction seeping through your soul thankful your blush attacked after he left.

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father's wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father's office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It's strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung's arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

"Shhh," he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, "It's going to be okay," he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you're thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

"How?" You choke back another sob, "How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that's what it comes down to? Shit... My dad is going to fucking kill me," Taehyung's shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

"Okay, now, you're being dramatic,"

"So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren't going to take this lightly,"

"Yeah, but I think it's safe to say that telling your parents you're pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,"

"Okay? Perhaps, you're right," a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, "especially not with what's been going on with the church, I don't know how much more they can take,"

"Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom," Taehyung's icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can't help but endure.

"Tae, I'm so so sorry,"

"Hey," he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you're just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, "you didn't know," sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you're close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you're going through, but you're not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung's lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can't stop yourself, and you don't, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. "Tae," you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn't right. He knows this isn't right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there's anyone in this world you do not want to lose it's him.

There's no refraining, there's no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you're so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. "[Y/N]," he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. "[Y/N]," he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, "We- we can't,"

You haven't seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It's a secret you've suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can't help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother's affair with your father.

Rage isn't enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven't spoken to him. You'll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that's something that's hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church's back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung's family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, "[Y/N]?"

"Yeah?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you're grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, "Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it's time... for you to have the baby?"

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you've had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you're too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don't have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

"It's okay, it's okay," the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You're embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your lips.

"You don't have to be sorry,"

"That... wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can't bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn't discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn't one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can't seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?" Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

"How can you say that, [Y/N]?" The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can't care for the child that you're six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. "Look at me," are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It's the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon's eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. "You're going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,"

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about," it's not a question, he's stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. "You're stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?"

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, "I do,"

"Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn't have a choice, and you'll let him or her know the second they're born,"

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

"You don't have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn't know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor's appointment bright and early," the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

"Wait!" You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, "Can you uh, ... Can you stay in here with me tonight?" You've refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that's become apparent, and even now, you haven't been able to comprehend how he's not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he's already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, "Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are," you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it's no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

"Have you thought about any names?" Taehyung's voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You've missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you're currently heating on the stove.

"No?" It's a brief question of guilt, something you haven't been ready to ponder, "Honestly... haven't thought that far ahead yet," you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, "I should have known,"

"Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?"

"Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,"

"Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,"

"And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,"

"Since how? I-"

"Ask Hoseok,"

"You lost a bet didn't you-"

"And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won't I?"

"With me around, you will,"

Hoseok is the deacon's son who's dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He's not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you're thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

"You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-"

"Oh!" You playfully growl, "Back with that again, huh?"

"Do I need to send you a link of baby names-"

"I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?"

"You'd be surprised-"

Taehyung's excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

The phone call ends whenever dinner is finished, and by that time, Namjoon scuffles through the door- the outdoorsy scent drifts to your nose while you place the sweltering bowls of soup on the table. Namjoon shimmers his feet from his work boots before hanging his coat, timidly glimpsing in your direction to confirm you're okay.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon's atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you've kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you're around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you're uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

"They don't know," your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon's soft eyes on you, his expression confused. "They don't know who the father is," that's when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you're referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, "I won't tell them." Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you're trying to bury beneath this web of fear. "Besides," you sigh heavily, "I'm surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here," you confess, "if he wasn't so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-"

"I wouldn't let that happen," Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he's proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor's appointment without any hesitation; with all that he's been doing for you, it's like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn't be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon's been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He's so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she's free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

"Are you thinking boy or girl?" Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

"Hm," you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that's being redeemed with her, "you know? I'm not very sure,"

"I can tell from all the colors you've chosen," she teased, "it looks beautiful," she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn't want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. "You're going to be a wonderful mother,"

The sound of the front door opens distracting you from the former memory, staring down at the table that now rests heaping plates of chicken and rice. The fellowship hall used to be filled with numerous rows of horizontal tables mingled with circular ones where the crowd would come to camaraderie to joyful hymnals, delicious food, reflected testimonies without any warning of the secrecies soon floating to the surface. Now a solo table, the one planted before you, pairs with a few sparse chairs just enough to seat at least four people.

"Hiya," you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, "How was your day?"

"It was good, thank you," he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, "How was yours with your mom?" His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It's hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, "It was good," you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, "Thank you... For helping me," the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you've been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

"Anytime."

A blush floods your cheeks when he holds your timorous stare, so you avert your eyes to your dinner, letting the obvious feeling of Namjoon watching deepen the red shade on your skin. A few minutes disappear into time before you feel a shove against your abdomen from the inside. Your hand instinctively flies to press upon the baby bump, Namjoon jumping at the motion, stopping mid-chew, while his eyes enlarge in surprise.

"It's okay," you chortle at his reaction, "it's just the baby kicking," his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that's hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

"Here," you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It's the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

"I told you that you don't have to do this alone," he whispers, and it's then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can't refrain. He's too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That's all the invitation needed, for Namjoon's lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you've been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don't care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that's going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you've slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you're on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It's eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, "SURPRISE!", nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. "What?" You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

"Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!"

"I'm still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!" You say breathlessly, you're so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend's shoulder. Taehyung's fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, "Your father let you come?" There's a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae's father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, no," Taehyung winces mischievously, "I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,"

"Of course, you did, you sly fox,"

"You know you love me," Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

"You guys didn't have to do this," you're still wiping tears off your face, though it's evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, "Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so," he tilts his head toward Taehyung, "And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,"

It doesn't take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

"You two are on kissing terms, again?" Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that's something you're not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon's face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung's hair while some swiped across Namjoon's neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it's good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you're not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung's heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. My dad's expecting me home soon,"

"I don't want you to go," you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

"Please don't cry," he whispers near your ear, "Please, please don't cry," His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. "Oh my gosh!" You squeal, "Tae, it's adorable! Where did you find this?"

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, "I made it myself. And," he pauses for effect, "since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta."

"Ta Ta?"

"Yeah, like 'Ta Ta... for now,'"

"Just when I thought I couldn't love your dork of a self even more," you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

"I love you, too." His voice thickens with emotion, "Now, quit saying it like you're never going to see me again, because you know I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It's a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he's always found within your heart. Taehyung's agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what's been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that's displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

"I promise."

He hadn't kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it's too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae's departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It's dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You've missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend's presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You're highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child's cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

2 months later....

"Namjoon, I'll be fine," the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He's concerned as he's been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, "I'm not due until next week. Don't worry,"

"I know," he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, "But, I can't help it."

"I'll be fine," you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you're now feeling upon your lips. "Mm," you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, "You'll be back before you know it," you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

"Okay," he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, "I love you,"

There's a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, "I love you, too, Joon," watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn't go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. "Oh," you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what's happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

"No," you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn't be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no 'thump' is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. "Agh!" A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn't take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Joon, it's time," you choke, voice thick with pain.

"Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I'm on my way, just hold tight, I'm coming-"

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, "[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He's going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am," Namjoon's polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you've grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There's a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, "[Y/N], I'm here! Baby, I'm right here," he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn't end, "I'm going to grab the suitcase, I'll be right back," time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver's side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he's slowly but surely learning is that you're not one to give up so easily- something you've noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he's on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn't breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

"Come help me," you plea hearing Taehyung's exasperated sigh on the other line.

"You are so annoying,"

"You know you love me, fool," you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

"He doesn't even come to the services," Jo droned, "Don't you think it'd be best to get to know someone that's more... active in the church? Like the pianist's son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-"

You can't get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, "I'll catch you later,"

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you're thinking about other than Namjoon who's keeping you sane.

"Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe," his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

"GAH!" Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

"You guys aren't going to stop until I'm your friend, am I right?" Namjoon's elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

"Damn straight," you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon's tilting head.

"I thought church girls didn't cuss,"

"And I thought you'd have more game than the basketball," You retort.Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, "Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?"

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, "Okay," the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung's arms.

"HAH!" You sprint, colliding into Taehyung's embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, "Looks like it's going to be a burger and fries' kind of night," you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you're safe. "It's okay, it's okay," he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN' – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE' helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon's calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You're not sure of all the commotion that's overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, "Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out." Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, "Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,"

"Taehyung... My mom... Dad-" you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

"No worries baby, they're on their way. They're on their way right now," he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon's atheism as well as him providing for his family.

"My dad couldn't find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes," it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. "Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck..." Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you've been determined to gain since meeting him.

It's weeks later that you'll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you've grown so fond of. There's no denying the feelings he's had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn't left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn't seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. "Ten centimeters-" He confirms, "Alright, [Y/N], the baby's coming. When I say push, you push. Okay," he positions himself though you can't see anything past your gown and raised knees, "One, two, three! Push!"

"AGH!" You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

"Breathe, breathe," Namjoon's hand hasn't once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

"Is she here!?" The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. "Oh, honey, I'm here!" It's your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung's red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, "Push!"

"AAAAAAAGH!" You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon's. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

"I'm- I'm so glad you both are here," you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, "Push!" erupts.

"I'm scared," you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon's soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don't know where your parents are, and you're too angry to care. You're bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you'd hate to discover what the consequences will be.

"Me too," his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You've never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you're curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, "I want you," you whisper. He knows that you're a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. "Are you sure this is what you want," concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I don't think I've wanted anyone so much in my life,"

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you've grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. "More," you beg, "Please, Joon, more." When clothes start to be thrown off, you're determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. "Show me," you breathlessly demand, Namjoon's palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You're surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn't bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. "Holy shit," he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you're hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, "Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!"

He's not ready for you to finish because there's more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

"Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!"

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung's gaze doesn't drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you're ready to see the child you've been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin's. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, "It's a girl,"

"Oh!" You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

"Sir, would you like to do the honors?" The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can't even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

"Wait," Your mom says, "Is- is?"

It's a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung's shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

"Yes," the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad's although your mother's stare remains on you, "Namjoon is the father."

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter's heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter's cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, "She is seven pounds and five ounces,"

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father's quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

"Are you ready to hold her?" Monnie's kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

"Yes," you stifle a sob, "I want to hold her,"

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. "She's so perfect," you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter's fingers fold individually upon her chest.

"Just like you," Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

"I love you, Joon," you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too."

"Uh," the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, "So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question," the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, "What's her name?"

"Ah," you nod, realizing that hasn't been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he's ever longed for and more, and he's ready to defeat any storm in life if it's with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae's question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

"Taejun." Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

"Her name is Kim Taejun."

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sincerelytomydearest · 3 years

Text

April Showers Bring May Flowers

Hi hi! This is my piece for Mystic Messenger Reverse BigBang (@mysme-rbb), and also my first piece! This is also on AO3 here. This piece is paired with the wonderful artist Saia (@saiare._) on instagram!

Words: 1553

Warnings: N/A

Synopsis: Saeran and MC are hit with rain.

Saeran X MC

The cool scent of petrichor and mellow rain had made Saeran uneasy. Ray had always attributed such specific weather conditions to unforgiving pouring outside of their childhood home. Conditions which barred them from escaping, leaving the twins alone with their sole caregiver. Ray seemed to house those memories close. Saeran on the other hand had always felt that the rain was somewhat of a catharsis. He’d remembered dumb idioms V had told him, phrases he’d learned to grasp onto. Sayings such as “You can’t have a rainbow without a little rain,” and their like. Ray hung onto quotes during his time in Magenta. Drinking down the translucent, turquoise concoction of elixir, smelling the copious amounts of medication and hoping his rainbow would come soon after. Saeran tasted bittersweet, Linking Rika to the rain, and MC as the rainbow. But this time around, it was difficult to see the distinguishing features of each contradicting party.

What’s taking so long?, thought Saeran. MC had remained in the confines of the locked bathroom for all too long. In an effort to not hide anything from them, MC told Saeran she was late. And now they were here, her locked in the bathroom with a pregnancy test, and him, waiting (im) patiently for MC to give him the news.

The pair weren’t at all trying, if anything they were preventing. All four of them collectively agreed that they just weren’t ready for an addition in the family. And MC seemed to understand, knowing full and well Saeran had just narrowly escaped Mint Eye, that Saeyoung was still missing in action, and that lots of healing was to come before any sudden decisions. But Saeran knew well that they could only be so careful, tiptoeing between the lines. Saeran could only guess how Suit (as he’d come to refer to him) and Ray would react, he feared that he’d have to see them in their full glory. His fears were yet to come true.

A small rattle of the doorknob caught Saeran’s attention, silver twisting against the door. MC peeked her head out with a skittish smile gracing her porcelain face, Saeran couldn’t help but smile back. Her infectious smile never failed to adorn her lover’s lips too, he was utterly grateful for her optimism in the worst scenarios. Noticing the pink and white test in her hands, he stepped forward, a look of worry painted on his face. MC opened her palms to Saeran, showing the two pink lines. They were expecting.

…

Suit couldn’t help but react. Why? Just when things were getting good for us. His hands flew to MC’s sides, pushing her up against the wall. It hurts. Suit pressed his fingers into MC’s shoulders, nails digging into her frame.

“Sae!” MC exclaimed, unknowing of the sudden change. Warm tears began welling in his eyes, his head pounding as his body reacted on it’s own. You’re strong. We’re strong.

“Fuck MC.. I-I..God,” he managed to putter out.

Despite the display, his hands shook, arms coming to wrap around the frightened girl’s figure. MC traced her slender fingers along his own form, holding onto the alabaster fabric that scrunched at her fingertips.

“We’re going to be okay Saeran..” her words trailed as she shushed him quietly.

“I-I know we’re not ready, w-we’re far from ready. But know we’re in this together. You’re not him. You’re not her. You’re mine. No, ours alone. We have so much to work through. B-But I promise you, this isn’t bigger than us. All of us.” MC whispered as her own tears began to flow. Suit growled, head spiraling in every which way. We’re not ready for this, fuck, fuck, fuck! Suit’s hands loosened, letting go of MC’s hazel sweater. I can’t hurt her. His whitening knuckles coming to a pause as blood began to properly circulate around his hands. MC couldn’t help but let out a shaking sob, her body trembled, knowing she had put them in an immeasurable amount of pressure, pain, and general confusion.

“Saeran, I’m so sorry. W-We could’ve been more careful. But, I want you to know, I want to keep it. Y-You’re going to be an amazing father.” MC cried out with her trembling tone.

“No, MC. You’re going to be an amazing mother.” Suit finally replied, his usually gruff tone now replaced with melancholic monotone. Confused, MC pulled back, looking to face her lover. His pale face was motionless, not to mention seemingly emotionless (though MC knew his mind was running a hundred miles an hour). She could only stare at his ivory skin, pink lips brightly lit with crimson, she’d failed to notice how hard he bit his lips, or that he even was biting in the first place. Aquamarine met sepia. Suit could practically feel his pupils dilate. Meanwhile MC admired Saeran’s soft features, from the way his cheekbones protruded less, to the lightening of his dark circles which once held a monopoly upon his face. This was the face MC couldn’t help but adore.

…

A week later, and Saeran had still been struggling to face his reality. Their reality. Ray and Suit had been awfully quiet since the reveal, and Saeran had a hard time breaking through to them. But it was now or never.

“Sae, we don’t have to talk about this right now.. I mean, if y-you can’t.” MC stuttered. She was lying, she’d known this was an issue that could not wait, one that couldn’t be left to waiver, especially for weeks, let alone months, nine months to be exact. But she’d do anything to spare them from pain. Saeran on the other hand, paced the room. His eyes wandering the room, left, right, up and down.

“No MC, I have to get this out. We have to get this out.” Saeran said, stopping his disturbed pace to look MC in the eye, his own falling away quickly after just a glance. Saeran sighed out, his bated breath being expelled. MC took his milky white hand into her own, giving it a soft peck. It was their time to speak. Ray was swift to front, cheeks turning a cute shade of cherry. He sat next to MC on the dingy couch Saeyoung once resided on, raising his opposing hand towards MC’s cheek. She instantaneously reacted, leaning into the palm of his hand.

“That red head..No, S-Saeyoung and I. Our Mother, she was a monster..” Ray began as he suddenly flinched away from MC’s touch. Her heart ached, longing to reach for him and protect him from the world, but she knew he needed this.

“Everyday, that woman.. She’d left marks on me, more than physical. Everyday I still fear her, in small daily discussions or quarrels. Every raised voice, every swift hand. I see her. And I fear her. I fear her..” Ray’s voice trailed off, eyes growing glossier by the second. MC bit her lip in response,

“Ray, y-you don’t have to-”

“No Love, I do.” He cut in.

Ray placed his hands along his thighs, taking in a solid breath as a tear trickled down his cheek, meeting his neck.

“I fear those marks she’s left on me. I’m scared of being..Her. Of becoming a tyrannical parent like her. I don’t care what Suit says. I’m weak MC. I fear her imprint, I fear what she could do, to me, to you, to us, all of us.” He said as he looked towards MC’s womb.

“I need you here with me, I know I can’t do this. Not without you. There’s no one else I’d rather have this child with. With you as their Mother, I know it’ll be okay. W-We’ll be okay.” He said staring at the ground before meeting MC’s auburn gaze. His hands cautiously made contact with hers, gently intertwining before kissing her knuckles.

“We’re going to be okay.” She whispered.

…

“Come here!” Yelled out Saeyoung as he chased after the smaller redhead ahead of him, effectively scattering mud and dirt around the perimeter. She ran with all her might, giggling in between thunderous screaming.

“Never!” She screamed before running straight into Saeran.

“Oomf!” was the sound she made before turning to look up to her father. Saeran took a step back, hands coming to wrap around the nine year old before looking down at her. She grinned widely, her toothy smile melting Saeran’s previously chilly demeanor. He beamed ear to ear. He could count her missing teeth. Since when was she growing so quickly?

Saeyoung was quick to attack, pouncing onto his niece and younger twin. Consequentially bringing them all down onto the mud. Her and Saeyoung’s laughter roared, chirping as loud as the birds. After a moment of hesitation, Saeran joined in. All of them splayed along the ground, basking in the newly sprung sun.

MC strolled near the pile of redheads, carrying a sleeping five year old in her arms.

“You’re all awfully boisterous today,” she said, smiling. Saeran sat up, ruffling the boy’s brunet locks.

“Appa! Appa!” the boy called out to his father, pointing to the sky. Saeran turned to see a faint rainbow making its way across the azure atmosphere. He couldn’t help but turn to see his family’s reaction to the magnificent phenomenon. All of their eyes twinkled.

We’re okay.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm saeran #saeran x mc #saeran #suit saeran #ray mm #saeyoung #mm 707 #mysme rbb

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jbk405 · 3 years

Text

So here’s my more detailed thoughts on Black Widow

It was pretty flawed.

It started strong. It really did. Opening on seemingly-happy suburban life in Ohio actually covered a lot of ground right away. It establishes that the two girls are normal girls, no matter what we see later in the film, and it also answers a lot of those minor nitpick points I saw fans crying about in the earlier movies (”Why doesn’t Natasha have a Russian accent?!?!?!” Apart from the fact that accent coaches exist, now we see she actually spent some of her formative years in the USA and picked up local habits). Some of the people I see on tumblr also got really into The Americans recently so I couldn’t help but giggle a bit as well.

The gunfight escape was a little unnecessary, especially Natasha having to pilot the plane which was just odd, but still I call it a solid opening sequence and it made me excited for the rest of the film.

Unfortunately it went downhill pretty quickly.

The action throughout the rest of the film was over-the-top in ways that don’t make sense for the “normal” or “grounded” character of Black Widow. She’s supposed to be a baseline human being who does what she does through skill, training, and gadgets. Here she takes more damage and physical punishment than Steve Rogers does, and yet is never disabled or impaired for more than a few seconds of limping. She falls out of buildings, gets hit by cars, is caught in explosions, and yet just gets up and keeps walking.

The threat is practically sci-fi. A conspiracy of assassins with mind-control technology operating from a flying fortress. Yes, we know this all exists in the MCU, but so far each character’s films has had them dealing with threats and concepts appropriate to their character. Ant-Man never fought a sorcerer in his films, his plots revolve around Pym technology. Iron Man didn’t fight the Kree in his trilogy, he dealt with geo-politics and corporate exploitation. The Guardians of the Galaxy never came to earth, they stayed in space. So why is Black Widow, ‘the spy’, so far outside of her wheelhouse?

And I am not saying “She’s not good enough to do this!” since she’s crossed over in the Avengers films and the Captain America/Iron Man movies she appeared in, I’m saying this concept shouldn’t have been used for her standalone movie.

The plot was a weird rehash of previous MCU films, and this honestly confuses me the most. Primarily Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Discovering the existence of a powerful secret conspiracy that’s been operating from the shadows, a conspiracy that you thought you had destroyed years ago, with an implacable enemy with personal history as the main enforcer of the bad guys...these story points are almost identical. The climax was beat for beat. Destroying Dreykov’s sky palace standing in for destroying the Insight Helicarriers, Natasha trying to break through the brainwashing of Dreykov’s daughter standing in for Steve trying to break through Bucky’s brainwashing, etc. I tried to be generous to call it an ‘homage’ but these points are so numerous that it just seems lazy.

These story beats, apart from just being copies, also lack any of the oomf of CATWS because we haven’t seen any of this history that they’re referencing. “Dreykov’s daughter” was mentioned once by Loki in The Avengers, literally nine years ago, and hasn’t been explained or discussed since. We had an entire film of Steve and Bucky together before Bucky became The Winter Soldier, plus callbacks afterwards. Internally, the characters don’t have this connection, either. Sure, Natasha has been haunted by 'killing’ Antonia all her life, it’s her greatest regret and the action she’s trying to atone for, but Antonia doesn’t know her. They weren’t childhood friends, they didn’t train together, to Antonia she’s just the person who blew her up. That’s if Antonia even thinks of her at all, since she’s actually under mind control the whole film. Not even “brainwashing” like Bucky was, but actual mind control, so her body is completely under foreign control. Meaning that ultimately all of Natasha’s pleas and attempts to stop the fighting do absolutely nothing because Antonia literally isn’t in there, so she just has to spray her with the anti-mind control spray. And once she does that it ends, so all the pleading was pointless after all.

Stepping back a bit, for all Dreykov’s speeches (And I don’t know if the issue was the writing or the acting, but Dreykov could not pull off these speeches) we never learn what he was doing. What is he using the Widows for? ‘Power’ and ‘Influence’, yes I understand, but how? Is he selling their services as assassins to the people in power around the world? Is he threatening these men with his army of unstoppable killing machines to bend to his will? Did he have the brainwashed young women seduce people for blackmail purposes? The movie never says.

The movie never says a lot, actually. Like why was Aleksei in jail? He says Dreykov betrayed him for no reason, but there must have been some reason. Not necessarily a good one, but something. When he was ranting about the betrayal of it all, why didn’t Natasha say “Oh, please, you were trying to sell him out to SHIELD” or “You stole his favorite car for a joyride” or anything at all. If he didn’t go rogue because his conscience got to him, or he got too greedy, or he messed up on a mission, then what did happen? Why did Dreykov sideline what was apparently a skilled and powerful asset?

And how did Dreykov escape Natasha’s assassination attempt way-back-when? Was he rebuilt by Project T.A.H.I.T.I? Did he have an android duplicate decoy? Was he just not there and Natasha just screwed up because she was so desperate to get him that she wasn’t thinking straight? The movie never says, nor even gives any hint. Natasha comes into the movie believing she killed him, Yelena says “Really? You actually believe you killed him?” and then that’s it. He’s alive after all. There was so much lack of an explanation that for much of the film I believed he was dead and somebody else was posing as him, maybe even his daughter who was actually the one to survive. Nope, he just...didn’t die.

I wanted to like this movie, I really did, but it was poorly thought out and a mashup of concepts from other, better movies.

#Black Widow #MCU #Poor writing #Movies #Film

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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years

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Eidolon 3 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr.

Chapter 3: Worries

"Sam… can you run this by me again?" he asked as he stopped searching for a moment and glanced at her. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Her response was a roll of the eyes. "I thought we went over this already… Don't you want to know what we saw last night?"

"I don't!" Tucker voiced, causing the two of them to look at him. "What? That thing was scary! For all we know, it could still be out here, and I for one, have no desire to see it again!"

"Why, aren't we brave?" The sarcasm in Sam's voice spoke volumes. In an almost immediate response, Tucker covered his head with his arms. Apparently, that tone was a verbal warning of the threat of pain. Sam could apparently be rather scary when she felt like it.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me! I just want to keep my good looks safe for the ladies! Besides, you're the one with the grudge!"

That answer just seemed to anger Sam more. "How selfish can you get? You don't even care that other people could be in danger?" Though it was true that she had sworn her vengeance on whatever they had seen, rational seemed to have come back to her in the hours after the chase. She currently just wanted to know who or what that was.

"I do… except, in my book, I come first! Besides, shouldn't this be a job for the police instead?"

"Like they're going to believe a couple of kids. We'll probably be the ones to get in trouble if we say anything. They only take it seriously if we find some kind of proof."

Danny stayed silent as he watched their fight continue. Sam did have a point; whatever it was that they had seen the night before could potentially be dangerous to anyone in the area. It also seemed unlikely that the police would believe them, since they would probably just pass it off as some kind of animal, which it definitely was not! However, he sided more with Tucker. If it wasn't for Sam's persuasiveness (aka threats), there was no way that he would have come back to the cemetery for quite some time.

He glanced around the familiar surroundings and shivered slightly. It was only about one in the afternoon, but it felt like it was much later. The shadows appeared more pronounced, the statues looked corrupted, and the air seemed stale and heavy. It was almost as if that thing's presence had managed to taint the area.

Even though he really did not believe in the so-called paranormal, there was definitely something demonic about that creature. That thought caused him to sigh. He was being silly. There was probably a very logical explanation for what he and his friends had seen. It was probably just some drifter or psychopath… which is just as comforting.

In truth, he would rather just forget about the incident and chalk it up as a bizarre situation that he never wanted to ever deal with again. He had also made a promise to himself to never again sneak out of his house at night; being scared half to death was so not worth it. However, he had this sinking suspicion that Sam was going to make him break that. Speaking of which…

"What…?" he asked after he realized that she had asked him something. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Jeez, Danny, get your head out of the clouds." Judging by her expression and the fact that Tucker was hiding rather poorly behind a nearby bush, they had stopped arguing for the time being. "I just wanted to know if you had managed to get home okay last night. I mean, you didn't get in trouble or anything, did you? I kinda forgot to ask earlier."

He frowned for a moment. "Surprisingly… no," he replied before giving them a sheepish grin. "I… uh… fell when I snuck back through my window. If you haven't already noticed, I'm kinda klutzy. Winston's use to that, but it's a little weird for me to fall at night. If he did wake up, I guess he assumed I fell off the bed again."

Sam shook her head. "Again…?"

"I don't do it often!" he replied in an embarrassed protest. "Just a couple times a year!"

"And that makes it so much better."

"Um, I don't mean to pry or anything," Tucker interrupted as he came over. Apparently, he now thought it was safe for him to come out of hiding, though he did make sure that he was out of Sam's punching range. "But, why do you call your dad by his first name?"

That question earned another sheepish look. "Well… um… I'm actually adopted. Winston's been my guardian for as long as I can remember. Apparently, my parents had asked him to take care of me if anything would happen to them…" He sounded wistful for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench. Raising his head, he glanced at them while wearing an expression that was unreadable. "I… I really don't know what happened to them. Winston's not very comfortable with the topic."

After a small pause, Sam glared at Tucker, who cringed. "Tucker! How could you bring that up?" she demanded as she moved closer to him.

"Sorry!" He immediately backed away from her as he raised his hands again. "I didn't know!"

That caused Danny to chuckle, which caused both of them to look at him. "It's okay, really! I don't mind. Let's just go back to searching before Tucker gets hurt."

"Tucker likes that idea!"

Sam glared at the nervous boy for a moment before poked him in the chest, "Fine, but this doesn't mean that you're off the hook."

….

"Sam!" Tucker whined about an hour later. "Let's call it a day! We haven't found anything! And besides, we promised Danny yesterday that we'd show him around."

Once again, Danny agreed with him. There were definitely less boring activities than failing miserably at finding anything. They had found nothing! It was as if there was absolutely nothing to even suggest that there had even been something other than him in this part of the graveyard within the last day. It was definitely frustrating since there was a small part of him that did want proof that he hadn't just imagined last night. Even if Sam and Tucker had seen it, maybe it had been some weird group hallucination. He had heard those were possible.

Sam glanced around again and gave a frustrated huff before she kicked the ground. "I guess you're right… even if I don't want you to be. I guess we should lea… Hey, what's that?" She pointed at something before she sprinted over to whatever it was that she had seen.

He and Tucker shared a look before they followed her. By the time they had reached her, she had picked up what appeared to be a piece of paper and was examining it. Apparently, it contained either an image or word that was holding her interest.

"Um… Sam… what… oomf!" Danny's words were cut off when Sam shoved the paper into his hands. "What the heck?"

She glared at him while she impatiently tapped her foot. "Just look at it!"

After giving her a look, he complied. At first, the only thing that caught his attention was that he was holding a rather old piece of paper. That normally would not be too weird since littering was unfortunately common, but this paper wasn't just weathered, but it also had a strange feel as if it was more along the lines of canvas than actual paper. He then noticed that there were black marks on it, which he realized was a sketch of what appeared to be some sort of figure.

He turned the paper a bit to see if he could get a better feel for the picture. It appeared to be an ink sketch of what he took to be a demonic figure with… possibly flaming hair. After a moment, he also realized that there seemed to be writing on the top of the paper, but the letters were too faded for him to make out.

"So… what do you think?" Sam asked after he had handed the paper to Tucker.

"Not much," he replied with a shrug. "Sure, it's creepy enough, but I don't think it's related to this. Papers find their way here all the time. Possibly someone lost it out of their sketchbook a while back."

She just shook her head. "Danny, I tend to do a bit of sketching myself… That's not a type of paper, if it is paper, that you commonly use. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I've never seen it before."

"Sam, you're probably over thinking things. I really don't think that it's anything out of the ordinary," Tucker told her as he gave it back to her. He then glanced at Danny and grinned. "Although Sam's usually pretty level-headed, she sometimes lets her love of anything weird run away with her."

"Take that back!"

"In this case, I don't think I will."

"Would you still say that if you weren't standing behind me?" Danny asked as he tried to turn to get a look at his friend.

Tucker gave him a serious look. "Dude, have you seen her boots? They hurt! Oh… alright." After receiving another glare, he gave up on hiding and looked over at the still irritated goth. "If it will make you happy, I'll try to find some information on it when I get home. Though, to be absolutely honest, I'm fairly certain that picture's nothing more than the product of someone's deranged… oh, I mean artistic… mind."

Try as she might, Sam couldn't resist chuckling at his comment. "Thanks. If anyone could find something, it would be you."

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Sure, I noticed. It's your only redeeming quality."

"Hey!"

"Sorry to interrupt another one of your fights," he told them as he raised an eyebrow. Their "play" arguments were throwing him for a loop. How was it possible they were still friends if that happened as commonly as it seemed? "But, am I missing something?"

Sam laughed as she waved him off with her hand. "Don't mind us. Both of us keep forgetting that you don't know any of this yet. Although he might not look like it, Tucker's amazing with technology. I swear that he could honestly bring down a satellite with that PDA of his." She then glanced over at the boy who had brought out said PDA and had begun checking it in a strangely loving fashion. "I'm actually surprised that he didn't mention it yesterday. Perhaps he was trying not to scare you way."

After a moment she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Come on! We should leave now before he starts trying to induct you into his technologic world…"

xxxxx

The door slammed which let him know that his charge was finally home. If it was any other day, he would have actually gone to greet the boy, but this was not the case. He was currently stuck on the phone listening to someone who was irritating him more and more with each passing second. Even though he was usually a patient man, it was taking all of his self control to not raise his voice at her.

"Ma'am, I understand the consequences," he told the voice on the phone tiredly as he tried to wrap up the conversation, "But I assure you, that not only am I acting on his parents' wishes, but that I am also taking very good care of him."

What the woman said next absolutely enraged him. "That remains to be seen!" was his indigent reply. "Please reserve your judgments until you or one of your people come to do that review. Now, have a good day." The woman had tried to respond, but he cut her off by slamming the phone. Those people were so tiring, but that one really knew what to say to get under his skin.

"Uh… is everything okay in here…?" Danny asked carefully as he appeared in the kitchen. His expression clearly said that he hoped that he was not in trouble.

Winston sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he sat down. "It's really nothing too important, just another call from the state. Apparently, they're now attempting to use scare tactics." He then looked at the boy and tried to smile, "So, how was your day?"

Danny shrugged as he too grabbed a seat. "Sam and Tucker showed me around town some more, and we hit the arcade for a bit before Tucker had to head home. We're going to try to get together again in a couple days."

"That's good…"

"Um… are you sure you're okay?"

He sighed as he looked up at the boy who seemed worried about the absent-minded response he had recieved. "Yeah… I guess I let them get to me more than I had thought. Anyways, how does pizza sound for dinner?"

"That sounds great!" Danny then got up and headed towards the hall. "I'm going to be in my room for a while."

"That's fine." Winston then got up and picked up the phone again. After calling the pizza place, he headed into the study and tried to relax.

Why was in the world was that man getting involved in this? He had heard the rumors that the man had begun to involve certain aspects of his many companies in some of the state cases, but until that call he did not believe that they were actually true. Due to the money that those companies held, it was going to much more difficult than he had originally thought to keep Danny. Not only that, but the head of those companies, Vlad Masters himself, had personally become interested.

According to that woman, he claimed to be a friend of Danny's parents. If that was the case, why didn't they ask him to take the boy? But, that was beside the point. Even though the man was well-respected, there was something that just did not sit right with Winston. Sure, he might be a business genius, but he had gained way too much power too quickly. There were rumors that those gains had not been made above the table, and Winston believed that they were true.

It was also known that the man was not above using underhanded tactics in court. If this case did end up going that far… there was no telling what that man might reveal. Danny's story was complicated, and even though he had done what was asked of him, it was unlikely that a jury would see it the same way, especially with how unbelievable the story really was. Most likely, Masters would corrupt the tale, making it even worse.

Then there was Danny to think about. While it's true that he had not be entirely forthcoming with what had actually happened, he had planned on revealing everything on his upcoming birthday. However, with the current mess, he was unsure what precisely to do. If he was to wait and the boy was told a corrupted story, it would most likely shatter his world. He could not let that happen, but he did not want to add stress to him, especially since there had been no indication it was true…

A sudden crash followed by a yell immediately got him out of his seat. That was….? What was that? He stood still for a moment trying to figure out from where the noise had originated when he realized that had been Danny's voice. Sure, the boy did have a tendency to trip, but there was no way that was normal.

He immediately ran to boy's room and opened the door. "Danny! Are you all right? I heard a crash!" He looked around expecting the boy to be near his chair or bed, but instead he was on the floor, plastered against the wall. His piercing blue eyes were wide and frightened.

Worried, he kneeled beside the boy, placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, and gently shook him. Unfortunately, he still did not get a response as Danny was still staring at something. His military instincts kicked in, causing him to tense and glance around the room looking for anything that was out of place. After a moment, he realized that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he still kept himself prepared potential surprise.

"Danny…" he whispered harshly to his charge as he continued to watch, "what happened?"

There was no sound until he heard Danny take a deep breath and move. He looked back to see the boy leaning his head against the wall. His breathing was still heavy, but it looked like the worst of the shock of whatever had happened was beginning to wear off. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously as he glanced around again.

"Huh…?" the boy's voice was startled. Had he only just realized that he had come into the room? "Wh-what's going on?"

"Are you hurt?" he asked as he knelt down again. "Did something happen? Did you see something weird?"

At the last question, his charge tensed and glanced at his hand as if he was examining it. After a moment, he hesitantly looked back at him and shook his head. "I… I'm fine, but what's with the twenty questions?"

He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "Really? Daniel, I heard a crash and a yell from you. I was worried," he told him as he helped him to his feet. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

This time, he was answered with a nod. "I'm fine… I just … fell off the chair... and managed to knock some of the stuff off my desk…" Danny cringed slightly when he realized how weak sounding his excuse was. He then became more animated and began to push the older man towards the door. "I promise! I'm perfectly fine! N-nothing's wrong! Just give me a few minutes to clean up everything, and I'll be right out! The pizza's supposed to be here shortly, right?"

Before Winston even had a chance to attempt to get a word in, Danny shoved him out of the room and slammed to door. He remained there, a little stunned for a few moments. Whatever had happened definitely spooked the boy, it was probably nothing like he had said… but he could not help but wonder. A normal fall like that should not be so frightening.

He took another glance at the door before he headed back into the kitchen. Maybe he should watch the boy a little more closely, just in case.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #fanfic #fanfiction #dp au #danny fenton #phandom #dp #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #supernatural #fantasy #Eidolon

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy

Word count: 4.1K

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, explicit sexual content

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I excitedly jump up and down, seeing the mass of hair stepping into the hotel lobby.

Stevie’s the first one in and I’m nearly tackling him, hugging him tightly because of how much I’ve missed him.

He’s tightly hanging on to me, letting out a happy sigh before pulling away to look at me.

“You look good, babe. Tired, but good.” He assures me, pinching at the tip of my nose and I smile, kissing his cheek for a second before I’m hugging at Slash as he smiles and says, “hey, Viv.”

I look at Izzy when I pull away from Slash, and he looks me up and down once.

“Viv.” He says to me in greeting.

“Izzy.” I reply.

I’m even excited to see Axl, and he tenses up a little when I hug him, but relaxes and asks, “are you dying or something?” in reference to me hugging him.

“I love you, and I’ve missed you, and I’m being driven insane and being that you’re already batshit, I know you can sympathize.” I tell him.

“Ha. Ha.” He sarcastically lets out but doesn’t go to pull away until I’m good and ready. “Oh, by the way, I’m telling folks in L.A. we’re siblings.”

“Why?” I raise a brow, pulling away.

“So you can also be known as ‘Axl Rose’s sister’ when I get rich and famous.” He grins. “‘Nikki Sixx’s wife’ is losing it’s oomf, ya know?”

“Especially once the D-I-V-O-R-C-E is filed.” I add.

“Exactly. So, I’m making sure you’ll still have a name to drop to help you get stuff for free.”

“Gee, thanks.” I nod, my eyes shifting to Duff.

He’s got the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey.” I say to him.

“Hi.” He replies.

“Alright.” Doc’s starting, stepping from the elevator to greet the guys. “Doc McGhee, pleasure to meet you guys, we have a show tonight so you’ve got,” He looks at his watch. “Two hours to get settled in, rest, bend a chick over, whatever. The bus is leaving here at 7:00pm, and no later than that. Got it?” He asks and they all nod. “Okay, here are the itineraries--the guys usually don’t pay these any mind, they just go when we tell them to, but in case you needed it, there it is.” Pieces of paper with the tour schedule on it is handed to them and Stevie smiles widely, nodding his head, showing his excitement for the next month ahead. “I’m going to get a shower, if you have any questions, either ask Viv or ask Fred Saunders, our head of security--Viv knows his number. Here are your room keys, I’ve already got you guys checked in. See you tonight.” He finishes, not giving them the chance to even reply before he’s gone.

“He seems…” Axl starts and I look at him.

“He is.” I reply. “Alright, let’s get you guys settled in.”

Doc got them joined rooms, so Duff’s room was connected to Axl’s, who was connected to Izzy, who was connected to Slash, who was connected to Stevie. At first I thought it was a good idea...

“Was your flight okay?” I ask Duff when we get to his room after helping the guys with their luggage, his hotel room door shutting before he sits his suitcase down by the door before looking around the room.

“Dude, this is nice.” He mumbles, letting out a small sigh as I step to the bathroom, cracking the door.

“Duff?”

“Yeah?” He asks, probably still in awe of the room.

I pull my shorts off, revealing the red, lacy, fabric, before pulling my shirt over my head and look at myself in the mirror.

“Your flight?” I remind him.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He tells me. “It was okay. Izzy had an anti anxiety pill so that helped.”

"Oh." I reply, hearing him sit on the bed and I take my cross off my neck, pulling my hair to one shoulder. "The guys are really excited to see you guys.” I try to start a conversation.

“Is that why they met us in the lobby?” He sarcastically says and I raise a brow.

“They’re still passed out from last night.” I inform him. “So is Tansy.”

“Is she healed up pretty good now?”

“Yeah, she hates her scar but she’s alright.” I add, rubbing my lips together.

"What are you doing?" I mouth to myself, taking a few heavy breaths before closing my eyes to calm down.

"Well, a scar on her stomach isn't anything to freak out about. Which I know she's a mod…" he trails off when I step out and lean against the bathroom door frame, his eyes scanning up my body, taking their precious time examining the "D" on my hip bone that's visible through the red-tinted see-through panties.

He seems like his mouth is dry and I smirk, my hips slowly swaying with each step before I reach the foot of the bed and crawl on, causing him to pull himself backwards until he's against the headboard, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Viv." He starts, holding down a moan when I throw my long leg over his hip and straddle him.

"Yes?"

"W-We're right next to Axl, and you're not the quietest, and--oh, shit." He groans as my tongue licks up his neck.

"Mhmm." I egg him on, pressing a kiss under his ear as his hands go to my waist.

"You're not very quiet and I don't want him to find out about us." He chokes out, my hands sliding under his shirt to feel at his warm skin before my lips press to his for a moment.

"But I can't be loud with your cock down my throat." I suggest, grinding the junction of my thighs into the bulge in his pants and he lets out a weak noise.

"Vivian, we can't--" he's cut off by my lips meeting his again, our tongues running against each other, causing him to sigh out.

When we pull away he looks like he's about to break his argument.

"Please, baby?" I beg. "If I'm too loud you can just turn me over and press my mouth to the mattress. Or choke me." I add and he raises his brows.

"I can--what?"

"Besides, I only get loud when I take all of it." I softly let out, grinding against him again.

"Y-You take all of it?" He stutters out, eyes wide.

"Mhmm, don't you remember? When you pulled me on top and got as deep as you could, and I told you to go deeper, and I took every fucking inch that I you thought wouldn't fit?" I remind him sultrily and he looks like he's about to pass out from holding back.

"That didn't hurt?" He asks me, trying to stay strong as I kiss at his jaw.

"Kind of, but that's what made me come so fucking hard." I inform him and he clenches his jaw. "Remember what that felt like for me to come all over your--"

"--Vivian, I'm about to have a heart attack." He tells me as if begging for mercy but I'm soaked through my panties and just want to be fucked into oblivion at this point.

"You haven't missed it?" I whisper, my teeth nipping at this neck. "All hot and wet…" I keep going, taking his hand and moving it to cup at my soaked sex through my panties and he curses under his breath. "I know you've missed cumming in it." I bite at my lip.

"Holy fuckin--oh my god." He nearly groans when I take my bra off, my hands running over my breasts, rolling my nipples.

"I've always thought you'd want to do it again when you got here." I say, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips briefly, not fingers lacing through his hair as I add: "I've been fucking myself every night since it first happened, picturing you inside me while I come over and over again, getting the bedsheets all wet…"

His eyes roll in the back of his head as I reach in his pants and slowly move my hand up and down his long shaft, my mouth watering.

"Vivian, you're gonna make me die." He says, running his hand down his face as I take a swipe of his precum and lick it off my finger, making him look completely entranced. "You didn't tell me you were like this or I would have--fuck…" he can't speak when I pull him out of his zipper and spit down on him, using it as lube to continue jacking him off.

"You would have what?" I ask him innocently, taking my panties off.

"You can't be too loud." He tries to tell me.

"I won't." I assure him.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He holds his pinky out and I pull his shirt over his head, giggling as he gets his long, blonde hair out of his face, and holds his pinky back up.

"Pinky promise? Because if we get caught, I don't want you getting in trouble." He tells me.

"Pinky promise." I agree, wrapping my pinky with his.

He goes to kiss me, but the walkie-talkie I left on the bathroom counter goes off, and sounds like Fred says, "six and a half."

"I gotta get that." I tell Duff.

"You've been talking mad shit over here and then run when I'm ready?" He aggravates me and I give him a quick kiss before crawling to the foot of the bed. "Okay, you can't do that." He tells me, lunging over me, his chest against my back as I fall to the mattress, laughing, his lips kissing to my shoulder blades. "I know what position we're trying toni--"

Axl's door suddenly swings open--which I could have sworn we had locked--to reveal Axl, Steven, Slash and Izzy.

Their eyes are bugged with shock at the sight of us naked, in a compromising position.

"Welp, you bastards owe me forty-five bucks, each." Izzy states to the guys, seeming to be the only one not surprised, as Fred's still over the walkie-talkie, calling for me.

It was so fucking weird. Axl had a melt down like Duff suspected, and then everyone had to act like they didn't know a damn thing and me and Duff had to act like there wasn't a damn thing to be known.

I hold tight to my crucifix as Nikki, Tommy, Vince and Mick talk with Axl, Stevie, Slash, Izzy and Duff before they're due to go on stage.

"Hey, after the show you guys wanna see what we can get in to down here?" Tommy invites them.

"Hell yeah." Stevie's the first one to say.

"Sounds fine to me." Slash adds.

Tommy and Nikki wait for Duff to reply, and he smiles at their offer but shakes his head a little.

"I got things I gotta do." He tells them. "But thanks, though."

"Of course you've got things to do." Tommy states. "All the pussy you guys are gonna pull in tonight." He explains with a proud smile and I cringe slightly as Axl looks at me.

"Yeah. All that pussy." He repeats, smugly.

"Guys, c'mon." Doc motions to them. "You're up."

"You guys are gonna kill it." Vince encourages them.

"You got this." Tommy adds.

"Don't puke!" Nikki calls to them and I look at him.

"That was lovely, Sixx." Mick mumbles.

"What, it was serious advice." He argues.

I don't say a word, deciding to keep my mouth shut being this is one of the few times we're not screaming at each other.

Halfway through the set, Axl says something that catches Nikki's attention, in particular.

"I'd like to dedicate this next song to someone very special in my life, who's like the absolute she-devil in disguise." He says to the crowd. "She's the type to kick you in the fucking balls and then ask why you're on the ground, but she kicks anybody else's ass who kicks you in the balls so that makes her a friend to me." He adds, grinning when the fans laugh a little. "Goes out to the hottest chick to be on the cover of Playboy, Mrs. Sixx, Vivian, it's called 'You're Crazy'."

I see Nikki's jaw rolling, but I can't tell if it's because Axl brought up Playboy, or called me crazy...he'd probably be even more pissed if I told him Axl actually wrote the song with me in mind.

As Mötley gets ready to take over, Nikki's tugging at my crucifix, pulling it off.

"What the hell, Nikki?!" I bark at him viciously, but calm down when I see he's just putting it around his own neck.

"It's a new leg of the tour, Vivian, it's a fucking good luck charm. Chill your fucking tits."

I don't argue, finding it kind of nice he still wants to wear it, even after everything that's happened between us.

I should buy him his own as a divorce present.

Once Guns is off stage, Tansy’s carrying on about Sparkie--who’s apparently got the “flu”, but I know that excuse all too well.

“Last night he just…” She says defeatedly and the guys chug from their water bottles as she tries to speak carefully, that familiar smack slur in her speech. “...He was like, obsessing over that fucking Playboy issue with you in it.” She informs me. “Then fucked up and said ‘Viv’ while I was giving him a blowjob.”

Axl rolls his eyes at the mention of her giving another man a blowjob and I hold back my smug smile at his expression, but he doesn’t say a word. He just continues to be obsessed with her in private and Izzy mumbles about getting something to eat before leaving.

“I woke up to you screaming, ‘she’s not even doing it right’.” I tell her, being that my room is next door to theirs at the hotel. “Is that because I’m not completely showing everything off, or…?”

“I just don’t like my boyfriend lusting after my best friend..” Tansy calmly explains.

“Well, it’s not my fault your slimy boyfriend can’t control himself.” I state, Stevie stepping out of the room to go with Izzy, I’m assuming.

"I'm not arguing, Viv, alright?" Tansy tries to end it here, but I refuse to let her.

"No, no, you've had plenty to say to Sparkie about it so go ahead and get it all out of your system, Tans." I insist.

"We’ve got different opinions on it, Viv, and I don’t--”

“--Because you just think I’m trying to compete against you.” I say sharply to her..

“No, in order for you to ‘compete’, you’d have to do what I do, as good as I do it, and you didn’t.”

“Oh, I think I did or else you wouldn’t be as upset over it as you are." I hiss back.

"Seriously, can you not get into this right now?" Axl asks us, the guys awkwardly keeping their mouths shut, and me and Tansy ignore him.

"No, Vivian, you're not competing with me, because there's no competition, because this is what I've been doing for a living the past six years. I'm sorry if you regret starting a life with Nikki because you never got to finish school and have your own identity and your own thing going for you--"

"--You think I regret starting my own life?" I ask her in disbelief.

"I think you regret not going to school and being a dancer like you'd planned, because all of us are living the dream we've had since we were kids, except for you, so you feel left behind." She clarifies.

"Who the hell said I'm left behind? I'm still with you guys, I'm still here." I argue.

"Yeah, as 'Nikki Sixx's wife' and 'Tansy Lyn's Friend', and that's why you posed because at least your actual name--you as an individual--would finally be on a fucking magazine, the only problem is you don't think it was worth it, now."

"Girls--" I put my hand up, causing Slash to stop before he starts, and he shakes his head and lets out a breath.

"--Are you sure I'm the one that thinks being plastered naked in a magazine isn't worth it? Who's the one so strung out she's completely projecting her bullshit on to her friend and belittling her to make herself feel like she's won?"

"Won what?! What's the fucking prize, Vivian?!"

"I'm outta here." Slash mumbles, not wanting to be around the bullshit drama, as I yell back:

"Attention, Tansy! Everybody knows the thing that drives you is attention and how other people view you! You're so jealous at the fact that, for onc, guys aren't focused on sweet, little, travel-sized-bed-bunny, Tansy, that you don't know how to fucking handle it! And modeling with your pussy and tits out isn't worth it to you anymore because, yes you've got money and fame and attention, but you are still so fucking unhappy! You're angry and envious because I'm content with the fact I'm naked in a magazine, and you're so sick with yourself for doing the same thing!"

"Viv, c'mon, now." Duff says lowly as he nudges me to cut it out, but I can't. I'm too pissed.

"God, Vivian, you are so fucking privileged!" She starts laughing, tears in her eyes and I raise my brows. "I winded up modeling for these nude magazines because me and mama needed the fucking money! I never got my license because we couldn't afford a car for me so what the hell was the point?! Any 'spending' money was put towards pageants and cheer, and when I got the offer I took it and ran with it because I was tired of being fucking broke!" She yells and I roll my jaw. "You, however, did it just because you wanted to! And I know they gave you a lot of money for it and you're scared of Nikki not leaving you enough money to take care of yourself when you guys divorce--and I'm sorry for you, that sucks--but, Vivian, you didn't sign a prenup so half of his shit is going to you, anyway, and being that he's casually had checks of $600,000 chilling in his mailbox before, you're gonna be pretty fucking set for a while without having the extra $40,000! You are so fucking spoiled and you don't even realiz--"

"--I'm sorry, I'm what?!" I scream, taking a step closer to her, causing Axl to get a little closer as well.

"Viv, seriously, please just leave it alone." Duff begs me and I disregard it as Tansy goes on.

"You literally went from your dad buying you everything you fucking wanted, to Nikki buying you everything you fucking wanted, and you've never had to lift a finger to get any of it! All you had to do was ask your dad for whatever, and now all you've gotta do is give Nikki a blowjob and the world is yours!"

"I don't recall asking my dad or Nikki for a fucking scholarship to Juilliard! I don't recall asking neither of them to fill in for me, dancing for eight fucking hours a day--on my fucking toes--for years, or study for me in all my classes so I could have a high GPA to get into a good school! I might not have a 'thing' right now, but I do know what hard work is and if you want to compare dancing and modeling, we sure as hell can because I assure you, Tansy, you're not where you are because you worked your ass off, you're where you are because you fucked all the right people and got to the top!"

"And so did you!" She exclaims, and Duff and Axl are pulling me off of her a few seconds after my nails are going for her throat.

"Fuck off!" Axl screams at me, getting us separated, standing in front of her to guard her as Duff's got my back against him, his long arms having a steel grip around me in case I try to go again.

Tansy's only got a small, surface scratch over her neck.

"I might have my issues, Vivian, but anytime any of us act batshit crazy and just attack people it's because we're tripping on something and don't know what we're doing! You're so fucked up all on your own without needing anything to bring it out of you!" She yells.

"I didn't start losing my temper and being 'crazy' until you and Nikki and Tommy and Vince decided to become raging drug addicts and alcoholics and then act like it's still all fun and games when two of you OD at least twice a fucking year!" I shriek back. "And I don't feel left behind, yet, but I will when you junkies finally shoot your last fucking cc, and I'm left to plan fucking funerals!"

Her face falls at my words, realizing why I'm such a fucking wreck all the time.

"I don't look at you and think 'model' and I don't look at the guys and think 'Mötley Crüe' because I just see fucked up morons who need help but refuse to fucking accept it, so congratulations, Tansy, at least you found your 'thing', I mean really, I'm so envious that I'm not a sloppy heroin addict, alcoholic, crackhead. You really do win." I finish, getting out of Duff's grasp, leaving and slamming the door behind me.

"The fuck is your problem, huh?!" Axl barks, following after me and I ignore him, causing him to grab at my arm roughly, stopping me, and I whip around to face him, seeing Duff coming to us.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Axl." I warn him.

"Or what? You gonna hit me? I wish to fuck you would, you crazy bitch, I'll have you laid out right here." He cuts back.

"Axl, man, leave her alone." Duff tells him, trying to pull him away from me but Axl sharply snatches away from him.

I see Fred coming towards us from the corner of my eye, Slash and Doc following behind him.

Getting the timing perfect, the palm of my hand is smacking as hard as it can against Axl's cheek, and we're being pulled apart before he can hit me back, which I know he's planning on doing.

“For the love of God, Vivian, can you fucking stay out of a fucking fight just for one fucking night?!” Fred shouts at me, “Girls, Girls, Girls” beginning to play from the stage.

“No, because she’s a fucking psycho!” Axl barks back.

“Oh, I’m the fucking psycho?!” I blare at him.

“Vivian, please calm down.” Doc pleads, rubbing his forehead.

“Suck my clit!” I sneer at him, trying to kick him.

“I’m so close to have you thrown in a psych ward and evaluated!” He’s suddenly outbursting.

“The fuck did you just say?!” Duff’s getting in on it, now, his nostrils flaring at Doc’s comment. “Maybe she’s this out of order because she’s got so much fucking pressure on her from you selfish motherfuckers!”

“You wanna stay on this tour or not, kid?!” Doc snaps at him.

“I’ll go get Nikki off the fucking stage to come handle this shit--you threatening to throw his fucking wife in a crazy house, the fuck is wrong with you?!” Duff keeps on.

“Alright, everybody just calm down!” Fred yells, making everyone go quiet, the many crew members now stopped and watching everything go down. “Duff, Axl, Slash, find Izzy and Steven and stay in your fucking dressing room and eat.” He orders, pointing at the three of them.

Axl’s let go, and he’s shooting me the nastiest glare in the world as he pushes past us, Duff glancing at me, letting out a heavy breath before following him with Slash.

“Doc, go watch the show.” Fred states next.

Doc looks like he’s about to argue.

“Doc. I’m serious.”

He exhales and steps away, turning the corner, and Fred then stares at everyone staring at us.

“The fuck are you cock-suckers looking at?” He asks them.

They nervously fumble about their business and Fred pulls me to the bathroom.

He stares at me when we get inside and I raise my brows at him, expecting him to immediately start in on me, but he surprises me when he stays silent for a while, looking as if he’s trying to figure how to speak, until he finally does...and causes the breath to leave my body completely.

“How long have you been fucking him?”

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

66 notes · View notes

seokoloqy · 6 years

Text

helLO pARADISE, mY NAMe IS | myg (m)

➳ PAIRING: hades!yoongi x persephone!y/n

➳ GENRE: smut, just a tiny bit of angst, greek myth!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 10k

➳ WARNINGS: attempted kidnapping, mentions of death, fingering (he has rings on yeehaw), unprotected sex, creampie

➳ SUMMARY: Buried in the Earth where seasons did not exist, where all prosperous life perished, and Helios’s blinding light could not touch; you slept soundly in the arms of darkness.

➳ A/N: oomf first fic of 2019! i love greek myths so i hope i did it justice... and feedback is always welcome! anyways, happy new year everyone and i hope you enjoy!!

As the clouds wept for their fallen god, he was consumed by the Earth, sinking into the deepest parts of despair where humanity no longer existed and death lurked in the inky shallows of Styx. He found himself trapped inside the loneliest void the world had to offer. His brothers did not grieve for his loss for they found comfort in their own luxury above where the Earth flourished in his absence. As flowers began to blossom in Spring, he created a kingdom where isolation and despair found solace in the arms of the dead.

Eons of solitude wore away at his weary soul, and he longed for Helios’s blinding rays to grace his pale skin, to see blooming gardens rise from dirt, and for the smell of earthy petrichor once again. He wanted—needed—his own slice of Elysian in the Hell he, unfortunately, called home.

“Hello, uh…” Is the first missing piece of euphoria he has found in your hesitant voice, as you struggle to address him. You had accidentally bumped into him, colliding against one another as you tried running the opposite direction, away from the vigilant eyes of your keeper.

In the lively chatter of drunken gods, he can only focus on you, the budding goddess of Spring, and forgets entirely why he has come to visit his brother's palace. It’s rare to find him wandering the great and golden halls of Olympus; he doesn’t belong in the palace of glowing gods.

It’s amusing you don’t recognize him. Can’t you tell? He diminishes light, darkness follows his wake, flowers wilt and die, life ceases to exist wherever he goes. It must be your mother, leaving you clueless and naive to the realm of Hades.

“Yoongi.” He answers, reprieving you from embarrassment. No recognition, not even a glint behind your youthful and sparkling eyes. You really have never heard of the danger you’ve just met.

“Hello Yoongi, my name is Y/N,” you chirp.

Light does not touch him, yet, the outstretched offering of peace glows softly. Your hand reaches towards him, a golden light that breaks the cover of darkness surrounding his being.

Hesitantly, he takes your hand gently, afraid he might put out your ethereal light. To his astonishment, as his hand envelops yours it glows brighter, like a connection woven by the fates has been made. He’s struck by the warmth that encompasses him, thawing his frozen heart and sending him spiraling down into sweet oblivion.

The seconds of your warm, endless light holding onto him is enough to decide. He needs you to save him from the eternal darkness that clouds his realm—bring him salvation from solitude.

“There you are, Y/N! What are you doing wandering off, love?”

Your hand slips from his and the connection is lost, leaving him bitterly cold once again, longing for a hint of warmth.

Love. He hasn’t heard that useless phrase in centuries, but as it falls from the messenger god’s lips, it ignites a long forgotten flame inside him. What was it like to have a lover? Admittedly he has had his share of meaningless late-night affairs, but what does it feel like to hold someone he cherishes in his arms at the end of his eternal nights?

“Your mother put me in charge of you, and she’ll castrate me if she finds out you’ve been talking to strangers.” The exasperated messenger pulls you away from the brooding god, keeping you a safe distance from the dark.

Yoongi is hardly a stranger. Olympus knows his name, eldest son of Kronos and king of the underworld, he deserves more respect from a simple winged boy. However, he doesn’t express his contempt for the messenger’s choice of words, leaving his anger to simmer.

“You can’t keep me by your side forever, Taehyung. I want to be free to meet new people.” You dare to look towards Yoongi, the enigmatic stranger whose cold hands somehow felt warm clasped around yours.

You examine the crown resting carefully atop his silver hair. The metal, well-worn through years of abuse, has turned a discolored amber color. The design of his crown twists into what resembles antlers overlapping one another with a single garnet gem held in the center. It looks sharp enough to pierce the skin.

“Am I not sufficient company, darling?” Taehyung pouts then brings his attention towards Yoongi giving him a look that says something along the lines of ‘back off’. A look that doesn’t intimidate Yoongi the slightest, he has seen worse in Tartarus, where only the wicked spend their eternity. “Would you prefer to be acquainted with the king of Hades instead?”

Dissatisfaction is prevalent in Taehyung’s voice. Of all the gods on Olympus, you had to meet him, the most unpleasant, insolent, and ill-tempered god of them all. He is meant to look after you during your visit to Olympus and now you're smitten by the king of Hades.

You stare wide-eyed at Yoongi. You’ve heard of his realm before briefly when your mother explained what happened to mortals when they died. You faintly recall her saying his kingdom was desolate and devoid of life, including the gardens you cherish so much.

You purse your rosy lips, disapproving of Taehyung’s attitude towards not only you but Yoongi as well. “I can befriend whoever I please, you aren’t my mother and you don’t control me, Taehyung.”

“She’s right. I believe she should be free to choose for herself,” Yoongi agrees, keeping his eyes keenly trained on you while Taehyung’s narrow at the king’s words.

“What has brought you to Olympus, Yoongi? Neither of your brothers or sisters has requested you, I would have known.” Taehyung knows everything that goes on in the palace, who comes and goes, who belongs and who doesn’t.

“I am here on my own accord, boy. Do I need permission to visit my brother's palace?” Venom drips from Yoongi’s lips as he glowers at the pretentious young god.

The air slowly begins to thin and becomes harder and harder to breathe. With the tension between the two, you start to feel uncomfortable watching their silent confrontation. You grab Taehyung’s hand and try pulling him away first, knowing the hot-headed messenger doesn’t like to back down from a challenge.

“Let's go back to the garden. I want to see the flowers again,” you mutter. Taehyung reluctantly follows tearing his gaze away to trail after you. “Goodbye, Yoongi, it was nice meeting you.”

You turn away from the god without looking back, silently hoping you can continue this meeting another time soon when there is no guardian hovering over you under the instruction of your mother.

Yoongi watches as you disappear, taking the light with you and leaving him alone in the dark once again.

The mortal world is where the foolish, the greedy, and the sinful lie. The likes of which, you blindly do not know of. You are caught in an idyllic dream where there is no wrong in the world, carefully crafted by your mother.

She believes mortals are expendable beings that have no business being associated with the gods. They’re dirty creatures with wicked whims that will do anything for what they desperately desire. They hunt their prey like wild beasts, unrelenting and merciless.

“Come out, there is no use in hiding. You’re mine.”

Taehyung left you by the lapping pools of a crystal lake. You convinced him it was a safe location since it is so close to home, where your mother is. He trusted you would be safe under the watch of several nymphs who inhabited the quiet lake.

“Did you hear me? You belong to me. Now come out before I get angry.”

However, it wasn’t safe there, someone was watching in the dark foliage, stalking you with their vigilant eyes. You were unaware of the danger that lurked in the dark as you plucked wildflowers from the Earth.

“When I find you, I will make you my bride.”

You had no choice but to run, trying to find sanctuary in an unfamiliar part of the forest. No protection against this danger, just your instinct, and prayers that one of the benevolent gods will come to your rescue.

As your bare feet desperately push you forward, the ground begins to tremble. You’re knocked off balance and sent tumbling into the ground. As you lie in the dirt, whimpering as rocks dig into your soft flesh, the sound of footsteps creeps closer. You’re certain he has found you and will drag you back to his kingdom where he will make sure of his promise.

Fear grips you in its steady grasp. Your legs are frozen, unable to stand again, despite your begging. You plead for the strength to move, but nothing finds you. Just as helplessness washes over you, the Earth finally caves, sinking you into the deepest parts of despair.

Your descent begins with a scream for help as you fall into unending darkness. You meet water at the end of your fall—bottomless, black waters. It consumes you and envelops your entire being in its murky depths. The sting of its surface hitting your skin is excruciating. You try to cry out from pain, but water rushes into your lungs as you thrash.

Swimming towards the surface, you’re met with dim moonlight and an endless fog. You violently cough up the remnants of water still lingering in your throat. There is no shore in sight, you're left no resting place, forced to paddle your arms and kick your legs to stay afloat.

“Hello?” You call out hoarsely, hoping for an answer in this lifeless world. “Please help me!”

“Help will never come, you foolish child,” a disembodied voice hisses.

You twist your head, looking for the source of the voice to find nothing but the same endless waters. There is nowhere to hide if it chooses to find you. You reply to it, “What do you mean? Where am I?”

The voice mockingly laughs, echoing all around yet no one is there, “You’re in Hades.”

Yoongi. The king of Hades crosses your mind. This is his realm. Which means he must be here too, watching over his kingdom. Was it him who sent you here?

“Do you… have any idea how to get out?”

It laughs again, “Once you’re here you can never leave.”

The laughter subsides and you’re left alone again to muddle in your thoughts. That stranger in the forest, this is all his fault. He called himself a king, he said he was lost, and he asked for your name which you carelessly gave away. He hunted you and chased you through the thickets, all while spewing nonsensical vows to marry you.

While you pity yourself for being so foolish, you feel a tug at your dress. As you try peering down into the inky waters, it tugs again harder, nearly submerging your head under. Panic sets in and you begin to swim towards nothing in particular, just desperate to get away from whatever is grabbing at you.

A hand wraps around your ankle pulling you underneath the surface. You clamp your mouth shut to stop the scream desperate to escape and try to swim up, moving your legs to shake off the hand. In the murky waters, you can make out a figure of a person, holding tightly onto your ankle. Its grey fingers dig into your skin, piercing the flesh and hooking into you. The hollow eyes and decaying face watch as you twist and pull yourself closer to the surface.

There’s another corpse, and another, appearing out of the dark depths all swimming towards you, trying to get a piece. One of the corpses pushed into the one holding onto you and you manage to pry your leg free. Without hesitation you begin to swim away, rising to the surface for air.

You can feel their hands brushing along your legs, stomach, and waist. Swimming further into the fog, you make out a rocky shore. You kick your legs and dive your arms into the water, trying to escape.

As you come upon the shores filled with piercing rocks, you can no longer stand to move your limbs. You lay in the rising waters, half submerged and your arms splayed forwards gripping onto the jagged rocks for a semblance of comfort.

There are no more hands clawing at your feet, for now, you believe you are safe and that lulls you into a deep sleep.

“How could you let this happen? I told you to bring her to me safely and she is worse than when she arrived! You’re absolutely useless, get out.”

Your eyes flutter open at the familiar sound of Yoongi’s voice, hushed and irritated. Footsteps recede and a door is slammed, followed by Yoongi’s deep sigh.

You are no longer on the rocky shores of Hades, instead, you’re pressed against a mattress tucked beneath a wool blanket. The room is unfamiliar, coated in blacks and greys. The black canopy bed you are laid in is draped in dark mesh, leaving the hushed whisper behind a semi-transparent curtain. You can faintly make out the silhouette of Yoongi and his pointed crown.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, reaching your now bandaged arm out to push aside the mesh drape.

He must have heard you, his outline turns towards the bed and opens the curtain, revealing him in the same dark attire you last saw him in. His face is relieved, lips twisting into a faint smile as he gazes at you fondly. “You’re okay now. Just rest and I will run you a bath soon.”

“No, wait!” You call just as he begins to turn away, a hand darting out to latch onto his retreating figure, only grazing the skin of his wrist lightly. He flinches from your touch, and you withdraw your hand to your chest. Your cheeks turn a rosy color, feeling as if you’ve interfered with his personal space. He doesn’t seem like the type of man who enjoys physical contact.

When you first met, he was so hesitant to even touch you. Maybe he only shook your hand so you would leave him alone, after all, he has a reputation on Olympus for being a callous god.

“I mean… thank you for answering me.”

“Answering you?” He echoes, parting the drapes further.

You pluck the stray threads of wool from the blanket thrown over you. “I prayed.” You answer, pushing yourself up the bed. Your bare arms are met with cold air, sending your arms to unconsciously wrap around yourself. Your dress is still damp from the fall. “I prayed and you saved me, didn’t you?”

Yoongi takes the wool blanket and pushes it over your shoulders, careful not to touch your glowing skin. He licks his parched lips and offers you a solemn reply, “I hardly saved your life. You landed in Styx, nearly drowned in the waters and cut yourself on the shores. I could have killed you.”

“But you saved me from that wicked king, Pirithous. I’d rather be dead than trapped as a bride to that awful man?”

Yoongi makes note of that name, mentally reserving a special spot in Tartarus for him soon.

“Sir?”

“What now?” Yoongi snaps, turning to the door where his withered ferryman stands haunched. Yoongi hasn’t gotten over the carelessness and disregards the ferryman seemed to have for his order to bring you back unscathed.

“The messenger is here for you.”

“Taehyung?” You perk up, pushing aside the blanket, eager to see your friend again. You want to be held in comforting arms, a familiar and safe embrace. “I have to see him.”

Yoongi is quick to move in front of you as you swing your legs over the bed. He has his palm towards you as a gesture to stop you, close, but not touching your bare shoulder. “You can’t see him, not like this.”

You glance down at your attire, lilac dress clinging to your damp skin. Despite this, you don’t find anything the matter. The wool blanket is tossed aside and you stand, nearly pressing against him, toe to toe. He doesn’t seem to notice the proximity, a glaze in his atramentous eyes.

“I mean… You could become ill. This dress…” he drifts off, eyes trailing to the side where they linger over the sheets you slept peacefully in. “I’ll run you a bath instead.”

Yoongi steps away, finally regaining his sanity, and makes his way towards the connecting bathroom. The ornamental cape draped over his shoulders flows behind his figure and disappears into the bath.

You turn your head to the shadowy man still lingering in the doorway who curiously stares at the soft golden halo of light enveloping your body. It’s unnerving the way his skeletal fingers clutch his staff tightly to his chest and his crooked gaze drifts over you.

The faucet is turned on, the sound of water filling the tub fills the room and the arcane ferryman turns to leave the threshold, returning to the river where he is most needed.

“Come in.” Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and showing off the pale skin underneath.

“W-With you?”

You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth, not realizing how it sounds aloud. What is it that you’re implying?

Yoongi drags his eyes down your figure, tonguing his cheek. ”No, I have to meet with the messenger.” He shakes his head, trying to erase the lustful images that have plagued his thoughts. He takes his leave, heading towards the door afraid if he looks at you again, it will drive him insane. “Please, take as long as you need.”

He leaves before you can thank him for saving you—for caring for you.

You emerge from the bathroom, wrapped tightly in a white towel. Your original clothes are damp with water from the river and you’re left with no other option. You flush at the thought of wandering around Yoongi’s palace with nothing but a flimsy piece of cloth wrapped around your body.

The room is well furnished with a full vanity table as well as a closet. There must be something in there for you to wear, undoubtedly only men’s clothing, specifically only Yoongi’s clothing. You walk across the room to the closet, opening up the creaking doors.

There only seems to be one color pallet in his wardrobe—black. The shirts hung up are neatly spaced on the rack with pants folded and resting at the bottom. His shirts are all the same, black button-up shirts. You pull one off the hanger and slip your arms through the sleeves. They fall past your hands and stop mid-thigh.

You admire the silk and the cooling effect it has on your skin. Releasing your towel to the ground, you begin to button up the shirt. As you pick up the pants laid out and unravel them, they seem too big to fit around your waist so you put them back, deciding the shirt is enough for now.

The halls are empty, holding only foreboding darkness at the end where you have no idea what awaits. This is nothing like Olympus, where the golden halls are lined with windows opening to the blue skies and wispy clouds. Here, heavy curtains cover the pane and block the view.

Yoongi never said you had to stay in the room, and you’re hoping to find Taehyung and explain everything to him. Your mother must be worried sick, you have to reassure her you’re okay.

“Yoongi?” You try calling. You doubt you’ll find the throne room easily and there isn’t anyone around to guide you.

Leaving the hall you come upon a room where you’re struck with a sense of familiarity. Underneath the dome-shaped ceiling is a tree. In the heart of the room is a full pomegranate tree, bearing deliciously ripe fruit.

You unconsciously step forward, entranced by the glowing halo of light cascading down from the windows above. The only bit of light in this realm belongs to the tree. You ache for its warmth to blossom across your skin once again.

Your hand reaches for one of the sanguine fruit, plucking it off. As the branch snaps back and the leaves rustle, you run your thumb over the smooth skin, admiring the ripeness and shine. The shell cracks under the pressure of your fingers digging into the core where the wine colored juices leak out and bleed onto your fingers. You pluck a few maroon seeds from the center and fondle them in the palm of your hand.

“Stop! What are you doing?” The yell comes from the opposite end of the room, there you see Yoongi rapidly approaching, cape billowing behind him. He rips the fruit from your unsteady hands and tosses it to the ground, giving you a warning look. “You must not eat or drink anything from my kingdom if you want to return home to your mother. Do you understand me?” He warns, stern eyes focusing on your gaping features.

All you can do is nod weakly as your eyes drift to the discarded fruit and scattered seeds, not daring to look up, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

You really are a foolish girl. No wonder your mother never let you roam the land without a guardian. It took months of begging for her to agree to let you visit Olympus for the first time, but only with Taehyung as an escort. You can’t go anywhere alone without her overbearing fear for your safety.

Yoongi regrets his uncontrolled outburst, feeling guilty as your face falls, but he can’t risk unintentionally trapping you here. You probably will never forgive him. “Don’t apologize to me.” He sighs, shifting his crown forward as it had moved back in his haste to reach you on time.

You nod silently, toying with the edge of his shirt draped over your figure. Yoongi’s attention drifts over to your hands and down to the bare skin of your legs. Under his gaze, you unconsciously pull the shirt lower, embarrassed by the exposure.

“You must be cold.” He blurts, hands moving to his neck where the string of his cape lies. “Here, take this.”

He unties his cape, pulling the string around his neck loose with agile fingers and wraps it over your shoulders, the warmth left from his body lingers and envelops you. He fixes it around your shoulders, tying a neat bow in the front.

You don’t have the heart to tell him you aren’t cold as your giddy heart races when he smoothes the dark cloth over your shoulders. A touch that sends shivers down your body, although not the same as when you first met. When your hands touched for the first time it felt like millions of volts through your body, sensations you only crave more of.

“There you go,” he murmurs, lips pulling into a tight awkward smile as his hands fall from your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You fight off the rising blush, wrapping the entire cape around your body to hug yourself.

“Of course. Now, come, I have a room for you.” He gestures with two fingers beckoning you to follow him through the door you came through and back into the dark halls.

“What about Taehyung? Hasn’t he come to take me home?” You ask, catching up to Yoongi as he moves to the door.

He must have spoken to Taehyung while you were bathing. Did Yoongi tell him what happened to you?

“I’ve explained everything and we both agreed it would be safer if… you stayed here with me for a while.” There is a hint of unease behind his voice and he reaches to unbutton his collar, exposing his sunken collarbones.

“And my mother? She must be worried!” You exclaim, taking the cape and wrapping it tighter around yourself as it gives you a bit of security from the dark.

Yoongi grimaces at the mention of your overbearing mother, “Taehyung will notify her. You have nothing to worry about.”

You nod, accepting his answers. Staying here doesn’t seem so bad. You’ve never really gotten the chance to explore anywhere else but Earth, where it’s green grass and blue skies never failed to make you feel comforted. Here it’s different. Every inch of this kingdom is covered in mist and decay, the inhabitants are no longer living.

But looking at Yoongi as he strides confidently down the hall makes you a bit braver, he is undisturbed by the darkness of his kingdom and you want to exude that same confidence. Adapting to and learning about a whole new world intrigues you, especially when its king is so infamous on Olympus—a mystery in your eyes.

“This is your room for now.” He stops in front of the door adjacent to the one you woke up in. Both doors are exactly alike and you can only guess behind the door is an immaculate copy of the same room. “And I’ll be in the one across from you.”

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling him into a hug. He has his arms hovering over your shoulders, startled by your sudden embrace. Before he can lay his hand around you, you pull away. “And goodnight, Yoongi.”

The room, despite its fresh linen and immaculate furnishings, fails to bring you a sense of comfort in this unfamiliar environment. You’re alone underneath the suffocating blankets and left pondering what your fate would have been if you hadn’t been rescued by Yoongi.

If he hadn’t saved you… just the thought of that vile and repulsive king trying to steal you away to make you his prize of a wife makes you want to scream. You’re beyond grateful for Yoongi’s generosity and hospitality—welcoming you into his kingdom, an infamous land where its doors open only for the dead.

You stare at the ceiling, thinking of the man resting in the room across the hall. You’ve only just met, yet, there is an undeniable pull—like Eros has struck you with his golden arrow and brought you together. You find yourself longing again for his touch.

You brush off your lingering thoughts and toss aside the sheets, letting it fall across the empty half of the bed. From your bedroom to his, you carefully tip-toe across the empty hall, hoping not to disturb whatever resides in the dark. As you push down the golden handle and creak open a sliver of his door, you’re met with the silver moonlight and the shadow of Yoongi’s figure as he faces the window. He turns his head at the sound of his door opening, startled by the sudden intruder.

Peaking your head through the crack, you ask him a question, “May I come in?”

He nods and turns to face you, hands clasped behind his back as he watches you enter the room silently. You shut the door behind you, hearing the lock click into place and lean against the door frame.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks, hoping the chilling temperature hasn’t begun to affect you.

“I’m feeling fine, but I just…” you trail off, unable to find the right words. Asking the king of Hades if you can spend the night in his bed together seems so uncouth to you. “Can I stay with you? Just for tonight.”

You prepare for the worst reaction, for him to refuse and turn you away, laughing at your foolish bravery. Although, you’re silently praying he’ll agree to let you fall soundly asleep in his arms.

“Yes.” He speaks without hesitation despite his better judgment objecting every step he takes towards the bed, suddenly looking smaller than before. How can he lay beside a goddess, one who shines despite the looming darkness that shrouds him, without diminishing part of that light?

You nearly skip to the bed, wanting nothing more than to crawl into it and drift off into oblivion securely pressed against his chest. You peel the sheets back, sliding into the familiar warmth with a satisfied sigh.

He doesn’t know if you’d prefer for him to join you now or wait until you’re asleep.

“Will you join me?” You ask through tired eyelids. Today has been an experience you never thought possible, meeting the king of Hades, being chased by another mad king and brought to the underworld. You just want to sleep for centuries.

He wordlessly nods and pulls back the blanket and joins you, laying on his side facing you.

You turn on your side to look at his glowing features, boldly letting your tired thoughts slip out, “You’re cute.” Your finger traces the curve of his nose and pauses at the tip just as he begins to blush. A giggle escapes you and you pull your finger away, enjoying the way his nose scrunches and he shakes his head.

“Just cute?” He muses. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“Ah,” you swoon, pressing a hand to your cheek jokingly. “The almighty king of the underworld believes I’m cute.”

“Is that so surprising?”

“No, many gods tell me frequently… however, I think I like when you say it the most,” you admit, slipping an arm underneath his to bring yourself closer to his chest and resting to the sound of his beating heart.

Adjusting to the eternal night sky and echoing screams of the damned takes time. You’re sure that enough time has passed above that the trees are beginning to shed its leaves and the vibrant flowers are beginning to wilt in preparation for Fall. There’s no way of knowing for sure, there are no flowers in Hades, besides the pomegranate tree that never seems to wither. While the season change, you take comfort resting endless nights away beneath the everlasting tree, needing no other entertainment besides the artificial light and rustling branches as they sway peacefully.

But it’s no secret you long to see grassy hills and blooming flowers again while stuck in this kingdom—it’s not like home. The closest you will ever get to those blossoming hills is the distant glow of the Elysian, a sanctuary out of reach to you. It’s reserved only for righteous mortal souls, off-limits to everyone else.

Yoongi has assured you many times that this is for the best. He only wants to keep you safe while Pirithous is still roaming the Earth looking for a bride. He tries making up for your frustrations by allowing you to join him as he rules over his kingdom with a stern fist. You sit by his side, listening to woeful tales of dead men and women as they beg for another chance at life. The answer is always a resounding no. You’ve learned that Yoongi doesn’t allow for second chances—one miserable life is enough for mortals.

Today seems no different as the weeping man falls to his knees before you, desperately holding onto a lyre and pleading for the return of his wife. “Please, I’ve come so far… Euridice was so young and we just married. We had our whole lives ahead of us. She was taken too quickly from me.”

You hear Yoongi huff, bored and already waiting to move on.

“And what makes this any different than all the others? I’ve heard it before. Don’t waste my time with your tears, Orpheus.”

“B-But I’ll do anything to save my love,” the man stutters, clambering to his feet, daring to take a step forward. “Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

Yoongi’s eyes naturally glance to you and you can’t help but notice. You haven’t been here long, no one in the underworld really knows the real magnitude of your relationship with its king, not even you. Does sharing a bed and falling asleep in his arms every night count as something more to him? You hope it does because you find yourself loving the nights you spend together in his room talking about the world above, how he still loves his chaotic brothers despite their differences and your love for blooming flowers in the Springtime.

“Anything?” Yoongi muses, leaning into the ebony throne with his arms resting on either side, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Then prove it to me.”

“W-What?” The mortal clutches his lyre to his chest, confused by the king’s request.

“Prove to me how much you care for your love and I might be inclined to release her.”

You look between the two men staring at one another as seconds pass. Yoongi isn’t one to let spirits leave his kingdom easily. It will take an extraordinary gesture that will move him enough to set Euridice free. You already pity the mortal, he’s lost his wife and now has come a long way to bravely face the king of Hades.

“I accept,” Orpheus speaks after mulling over his options. He sits on the ground, positioning his lyre before strumming the strings of his worn instrument. The melody he creates is a melancholy song of longing and loss. As it slowly echoes through the room, you’re entranced by the gentle sound of his haunting song. It’s like you can feel his pain, his grief, his loneliness. Even without words, it’s clear how much he loves his wife.

It reminds you of your situation and how you desperately want to be reunited with your mother, how lonesome it is here without the nymphs or Taehyung, but also the way you feel for Yoongi.

He stops strumming, waiting for a response from the king. Yoongi seems unmoved, remaining in his laid-back position and twisting the metal ring on his forefinger with his thumb lazily.

“All I can say is, I’m impressed by your incredible talent, unfortunately...”

You know what’s coming, the cruel refusal and unsympathetic shrug as he dismisses him for another desperate soul. The ‘no’ is just on the tip of his tongue and you can’t help but beat him to the conclusion. You can’t watch another one go, not after such a moving performance. He deserves to be reunited with his love, he’s proven himself enough with his haunting melody

“Give him a chance, Yoongi.” You lean across your chair, reaching for his hand.

Orpheus begins with a chant of thank you’s and relieved tears as he looks to your sympathetic face.

“And why should I?” Yoongi interrupts. He doesn’t show any indignation for your demand, nor does he seem pleased.

“You can’t turn him away, not after he traveled all the way to bravely face you. I think he has proven his love enough. Please, give him a chance.”

“If you truly believe he deserves this, I promise to let her go on one condition,” he turns toward Orpheus. “You can have her back as long as you don’t look at her until you leave this realm. You may have the urge to turn back but, if you don’t, you’ll have a lifetime with her if you keep your patience for a little while longer.”

Another odd request from the king, but nevertheless, the mortal man is overjoyed by your persuasion. He swears to obey Yoongi’s wishes, believing he won’t lose her again. He makes his way to the doors, eagerly awaiting to be reunited with his wife once again on Earth. As he turns, a shadowy figure materializes behind him in the form of his wife, no longer the decrepit and pale apparition she once was while stuck in oblivion. Her young, familiar self has been restored by Yoongi’s promise.

You watch as they leave, Eurydice trailing behind her ecstatic husband as he leads them off. However, it doesn’t take long until the news of their ill-fated journey meets your ears.

“He couldn’t do it?” You push yourself off the ground and wipe away the dirt stuck to the chiffon fabric of your dress. You took a break to relax away from the tears of the dead.

“The very last step, he turned around and now Eurydice has returned to Asphodel.” He explains.

His unapologetic tone irritates you. He doesn’t seem to have any remorse for the star-crossed lovers. Why would he create another challenge after Orpheus had already proven himself? Did Yoongi want to watch as he failed to save his wife again?

“You’re cruel.” You spin to face the tree trunk and pick at its bark, hiding your watering eyes from him. Your fingers pluck at the bark until a splinter pierces your skin and a quiet whimper passes your lips. You pull your hand back to inspect it, but Yoongi grabs it first, watching as the golden ichor bleeds from your finger.

“Am I?” He feigns disbelief, gazing between your tearful expression and the cut on your index finger. “I gave him a chance to cheat death, and he failed. How am I so cruel?”

He presses a delicate kiss to your finger, watching your reaction as roses blossom on your cheeks. He uses the hand in his grasp to pull you into his arms, where you find home in the crook of his neck.

“You knew he would turn around. You pretended to give him a chance when you knew he would fail. Why couldn’t you just let her go instead of giving him false hope?” You press your face into his shoulder, wiping away tears that have formed but refuse to fall.

They had a chance at a happy ending and he has ruined it with an impossible challenge.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is death. I only taught him that again.”

Nothing is ever fair, especially death. Loved ones are taken too quickly and bargains and bribes will never bring them back. You frown, knowing his words are right.

You pull away from his embrace, needing a moment for yourself and leave him behind, as he wonders what he did wrong, and make your way through the darkened halls to your original room.

You’d rather sleep alone tonight. As you trudge towards your room, you wonder if you’ll ever be freed. It has been over a month since you’ve been here and despite the constant reassurance, you still don’t know when it’ll ever be safe to return to the surface.

Will he keep you here forever too? Like another one of his shades he refuses to let go of. But given the chance, do you want to leave him?

Yes, you miss your mother, but the difference between her and being here with Yoongi is the way they treat you. Your mother, despite her heart being in all the right places, treated you like a child. There was never a moment where she’d let you go off alone, not even on Olympus where there’s enough power in one god to smite any trespasser. Instead, she says it’s the gods you needed to fear. All that power in childish and irresponsible deities is a dangerous mix that she didn’t want you to be associated with.

Here, you’ve learned more than you ever have on Earth about life and death. There’s so much about Hades you want to learn including all the secrets of its ruler.

The guest room is cold and unwelcoming, and you’re tempted to walk across the hall to join Yoongi and forget about the whole situation. Instead, you collapse onto the bed and sigh as the events of today wash over you.

“There you are.”

You know that voice, the voice of the man who tried taking you away. He finally found you. The door shuts behind him as he creeps into the room with a wicked grin on his face.

“How did you find me?” You’re back against the headboard as you try and press yourself away from him.

“It doesn’t take a lot to bribe the ferryman into giving you away,” he laughs, standing at the edge of your bed, reaching out to you with withered fingers.

You jump off the bed to avoid his grasp, crying out, “Get away from me. I will never marry you!”

The lamp on the bed stand is wrenched from the table and you throw it in his direction, hitting him square in the face. As it collides with his nose, you take the chance to run while he stumbles back in pain. He cries out profanities and curses your name. You have no time to pay attention to the words that escape his mouth as you dash into the hall and come upon the pomegranate tree.

“Yoongi!” You call, running through the door on the other side where the throne room is. You burst through the doors and find Yoongi already standing at his throne.

“What’s the matter?” He demands as you throw yourself into his arms. He was planning out an apology before going to see you in your room, having no idea of the intruder trying to steal you from him.

The door swings open and Pirithous barges in with fury etched on his face, blood leaking from his nose.

Yoongi pushes you behind him and addresses the pathetic man. You watch as Pirithous begins to cower, not realizing you had come into the throne room where Yoongi had been and not expecting the king of Hades to look so intimidating.

“And who are you?” Yoongi questions, looking over the unfamiliar face.

“P-Pirithous, your majesty.”

Recognition and anger are what you see cross Yoongi’s face. “You really are a fool, Pirithous, daring to come into my kingdom to steal yourself a bride,” Yoongi sneers, advancing towards the trembling mortal. “And what makes you think I’ll let you walk back out?” He grabs Pirithous by the collar and brings his face closer to watch as the man pales. “If I were you, I’d start praying to the gods and maybe they will have enough pity to save you because I certainly will not.”

Yoongi turns and pulls him by the collar towards his throne where he throws Pirithous. As he falls into the chair thick vines begin to overlap his body and trap him.

“You’ll stay there until the Erinyes come to collect you.”

“N-No… you can’t do this to me! I am a king!” Pirithous screams desperately, thrashing against his bindings.

You stand by Yoongi, watching him struggle and you can only feel relief. How can you feel sympathy for the man who tried abducting you? Whatever his fate will be you’re glad he’s no longer a threat to you.

“Come with me. You have nothing to worry about anymore.” Yoongi takes your hand, guiding you away from the anguished cries and pleading screams. It’s the last you see of Pirithous.

It seems like eons since you’ve last seen a flower, much less a whole field of them, swaying gently in the chilling breeze of the underworld. The vermillion poppies Yoongi presents you are like a gift that swells your heart with adoration. Despite the looming cavernous cave you stand near, the sight is pleasant and welcoming. You’re tempted to dash into the fields and throw yourself into the flowers, but you haven’t been outside his castle since you arrived here, so you’re unsure of what could be lurking in the fields or the cave.

“I don’t come here often because the brothers that dwell in these caves are quite reclusive. However, I’m sure they won’t mind you being here awhile.” Yoongi explains, striding into the red meadow. You trail after him, letting your hand glide across the tips of the flowers that meet your waist. “I know it doesn’t compare to the flowers on Earth, but-”

“No, they’re perfect.” Your hand reaches for his without thinking to intertwine your fingers together. His fingers tighten around yours and he smiles as you begin to lead the way.

You spend a majority of time walking through the meadow and weaving flowers into your hair as he watches on. You’re sat in the middle of the field beneath the looming flowers, head leaning on Yoongi’s shoulder as you twirl a poppy absentmindedly between your fingers. It’s peaceful here and you can pretend you’re no longer in Hades, instead, above on Earth where Spring continues to flourish and nothing is dead.

“I’m sorry I upset you earlier,” he mumbles, watching the flowers sway. “Perhaps I am cruel to tear two lovers apart and perhaps I’m jealous that they have a love that will last forever even when one of them is gone.”

Listening to Orpheus weep about losing his love too soon made Yoongi realize how little time he has left with you, and it only dwindles with each moment that passes in this meadow. With Pirithous no longer any threat, you’ll be back in your mother’s arms in no time and he’ll be here, tending to the dead as he has for eons, alone. Will you forget about him as each month slowly passes and you’re reunited with the other gods?

“What do you have to be jealous of?”

“Because you’ll be gone soon,” he admits. “And I...”

He can barely finish his sentence. The time you’ve spent with him is what he will continue to cherish forever, how can he easily give that away? He doesn’t want to think of eternity without you. He’ll miss your light.

The wistful expression on his face as he looks down at your glowing figure tugs at your heart. In this moment, you know exactly what you want. You want him—all of him, even the darkest parts he keeps hidden. For the first time, you realize you’re in love with him. It’s not even the type of love Eros himself could conjure up with a strike through the chest with his precise golden arrows. The king of Hades has absolutely stolen your heart all on his own.

“Do you think I’ll stop loving you even when we’re apart?” You scan his awestruck expression, tucking the red flower behind his ear and cradling his cheek. Against the ashen color of his hair, the bit of color from the flower brightens his tender smile. “I love you, Yoongi, you are my paradise. Even if we’re apart.”

Your echoing words resonate deeply within him.

Love and paradise.

There is that word again, but this time it doesn’t seem so meaningless. Is this the answer? Could love be the piece of Elysian he has desperately searched for? You’re all he can ever want, all he’s ever needed. The moment he met you, he knew there could never be anyone more perfect for him like you were created for one another. He will do anything for you. He knows the answer now to the aching feeling in his chest, it must be love.

“I think,” he breathes in, bracing himself for the forgotten words he never thought would escape his lips. “I think I love you too.”

The excitement of his confession replays in your thoughts throughout the night. You slip further beneath the waters of your bath, letting your nose rest above the water.

You want nothing more than to scream from the top of Olympus and announce to gods and mortals alike that the king of Hades is in love with you. But what will you do now?

Stories and gossip from Olympus of lovers spending passionate nights together cross your mind. The gods have all spoken of it, laughed about their fair share around the rim of their wine glasses. You’d never admit it to your mother, but their stories always piqued your interest and you had been tempted to learn more only with the right person.

Besides stories of lovers, you’d also heard the horrendous failures of illicit affairs between the king of Olympus, his many lovers, and vengeful wife. You’re careful not to be that foolish, and now you have finally had someone whom you’d like to share that passion with.

Hardly able to contain yourself, you rise from the tub and step out, reaching for a towel to dry yourself off. You exit the bathroom to find Yoongi removing his crown and cape. The towel wrapped around your chest makes it hard to breathe as you slowly inhale.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes, love?”

You grin at the endearing name he’s given to you. As he turns you release the towel and embrace the chilling air. His expression is less than excited, devoid of any hint of pleasure. His mouth set in a thin line as his eyes travel down your exposed body. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to ignore the way his body begins to react at the sight of you.

“And what is this for?” He grunts, walking towards the bed.

“For you.” You answer, confused by his reaction. The gods speak of uncontrollable desire and yet, Yoongi is the picture of composure. “Am I not what you want?” You bring your arms over your chest, following him to the bed.

“Of course I want you.” His response is automatic, not a hint of hesitation behind his voice. Gods, he wants it badly, but won’t bring himself to taint you and diminish your blinding glow.

You feel a wave of lust go over you by the way he stares, hooded eyes and lip caught between his teeth. Maybe he needs more convincing this is exactly what you want.

You saunter up to him, hips swaying and eyes inviting him to indulge for once. You press down on his chest until he is sitting on the bed, staring up at you with darkened eyes.

“Please, Yoongi, touch me,” you plead, grasping his hand in yours and bringing it to your beating chest. His frigid fingers do nothing to cool the scorching heat of your body. “Don’t be afraid. Make me yours.”

His stony expression remains unchanged despite your desperate whimpers, driving you into madness. Why won’t he move? You’re willing to give yourself to him, every inch, and he refuses still.

Daring to push him further into temptation, you guide his slender fingers down to your breast, moaning as his hand presses against the hardened nipple. The way he sucks in a breath, hiding his lust for you, only arouses you further. His fingers gently tease the bud as he watches your eyes flutter shut and you moan into his hand.

He doesn’t take his eyes off your body, roaming every supple curve from your breasts to your waist and down to where he desires you most. Your light is magnetic, and he’s drawn so senselessly towards you. Preparing to worship every part of you like any devout mortal, kisses will be his prayers and your screams of pleasure will be his sacrifice. He wants to ravish you until your screams become deafening and your mother knows exactly where you have been hiding and who is defiling her dear daughter.

“Pl-Please,” You move yourself to straddle his lap and his hand doesn’t move from your breast, fondling the soft flesh in his palm. You carefully pressing your dripping core to the rough fabric of his dark pants, where you can see his evident arousal begin to grow. Your trembling hands glide down Yoongi’s unbuttoned shirt, revealing more of his pale chest for your eyes to devour. “I want you. Can you tell?”

You tenderly press a finger to your aching core, shuddering and collapsing into him. Your hips buck into your finger, unable to control yourself from wanting to sink your fingers into yourself.

Your head is buried against his neck, panting for breath against his collar. It’s almost painful how you clench around nothing and your body yearns for him to fill that void. Your finger drags along your slit, collecting the leaking arousal and massaging your folds.

“This is for you, Yoongi,” you murmur breathlessly, bringing your finger back up into view, watching as the dim light reflects the wetness of your finger. “Make love to me, tell me you love me and press tender kisses onto my skin or fuck me until you’re satisfied, ruin me. Have your way with me, Yoongi.”

For the first time he speaks, shallow breaths and gravelly tone, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” you practically moan, breathing in his minty scent. Your hands tangle into his hair, pulling his lips closer to yours, feeling the heat radiating from your skin from the proximity. You want him to kiss you, touch you, and make you his. Your hips move against his hardened cock, feeling the rough fabric of his pants press against your core and sending delicious waves of pleasure through you.

He finally gives in, connecting your lips in a heated fervor. Your hands fall to his shirt, making quick work on unbuttoning it and pushing the shirt off. As your hands roam his chest, his hand glides down your stomach, cold metal rings pressing into your skin, cooling your scorching skin.

You feel a tingle of excitement as his hand continues to travel lower until his thumb meets your clit. “O-Oh,” you gasp, clutching his shoulders as he begins drawing slow circles.

“Feel good?” Yoongi smirks, listening to your heavenly whimpers and moans. You choke out a yes as the tip of his finger prods at your entrance. He lazily drags his finger up and down your drenched folds until you’re begging for him.

“Yoongi,” you whine, drawing out the syllables of his name. “Please just do something.”

Your arousal makes it easy for him to slip one finger into you, giving you barely any time to adjust before moving it back out and ramming into you again until you can feel his ring at your core. The touch of metal against your entrance has you clenching around his finger. Your screams echo throughout the room and only encourage him to go faster.

He moves at a quick pace, letting your hips move against him to match the fervor of his thrusts. “Do you want another one?”

“Yes, yes! Yoongi, please,” you cry out. You can feel a tightness beginning to build in your abdomen, threatening to explode. You just want more of what he’s giving you, greedily rocking your hips into his fingers as he gives you exactly what you want. Two fingers stretch you and curl against your walls while he kisses down your chest.

You’re reaching your breaking point as your legs begin to tremble and your moans become uneven pants. Just a little further… and suddenly his fingers leave you empty as he pulls back. You whine from the loss and beg for him to continue, “N-No… why did you stop?”

“Not yet, love,” he orders, quieting your whimpers with deft kisses and laying you down on the mattress. “I want to be inside you.”

His words send another wave of arousal through you and make you whimper, pulling him into another heated kiss. Your head sinks on to the pillows as he kneels between your legs, lips and tongue moving against yours while undoing his pants and pulling them off to discard on the floor. His cock stands proudly and ready to sink into your soaking heat. He pulls back from the kiss to gaze at your red, puckered lips and frenzied hair splayed out on his pillows.

Your hands intertwine with his as he gives you a reassuring look, asking, “Are you ready?”

You nod and he wastes no time aligning his hardened tip with your folds. As he pushes into your throbbing core, a moan spills from your lips and you dig your fingers into his knuckles, leaving crescent marks on his skin. He barely notices the sting in his hands while he buries himself deeper into you.

“Gods you’re so perfect,” he groans, dropping his head on to your neck to mark the untouched flesh with shades of lavender and rose.

He begins thrusting into you, pulling out all the way and then one swift snap of the hips back into you. As your body writhes with pleasure underneath Yoongi and his unrelenting pace, you arch into him and let your breasts press against his chest.

“More,” you plead, spreading your legs closer to your chest, allowing him to hit your sweet spot. Your toes begin to curl and the familiar coil in your stomach returns. His finger finds your sensitive clit again, roughly rubbing the bundle of nerves until you come. “A-Ah, Yoongi!” You cry.

“Good girl,” he praises, loving the way you clench around him as you orgasm.

You lie limp on the bed as he continues thrusting into you, getting overly sensitive, groaning as his fingers absentmindedly draw circles on your clit. “Y-Yoongi,” you moan.

“Just a little more, love.” Yoongi removes his hand from your abused clit and pushes himself into you faster. One more quick thrust and he comes undone inside you with a breathy groan, drenching your walls.

Yoongi slowly pulls out of you, letting the gush of both your highs leak out onto the bed and falls to your side, breathing deeply as he grabs your waist and engulfs you into a hug.

You both lie on the bed, listening to one another catch their breath and relive the feeling over and over.

“Stay with me.” Comes the longing whisper.

The arm around your waist tightens as Yoongi pulls you closer to his chest. He fears the uncertain future without you and can see only one solution. Stay with him—here in the Underworld—where life might not flourish, but you’ll be together and he promises to ensure your happiness forever, no matter the sacrifice.

To stay with him means you will never see your mother again, no longer free to roam Olympus with Taehyung glued to your side, but it also means forever with the man you love. The decision pulls you between Heaven and Hell—stay or go. The way he lovingly strokes your hair and watches as you make your decision, willing to accepting whatever answer, moves you to speak.

“I’ll stay.”

The two of you get dressed without another word uttered and find yourselves in front of the sacred tree where Yoongi plucks one of the ripe fruit off its branches. Six red seeds fall into your hand and you can already taste the bitterness of them as you slowly raise your hand to your mouth.

The bittersweet flavor of each seed erupts on your tongue and your fate is sealed. You’re forever bound to this land and him—to be his bride and queen of the Underworld. From this moment forewarn, he is no longer alone in the suffocating darkness, no longer searching for solace in isolation. It wasn’t him who rescued you from the shallows of Styx, instead, it was you, who entered his land and brought light along the way forever changing his bleak world.

“Gods, I love you with my entire being,” he declares, sweeping you into a tender kiss. “Thank you for saving me.”

The coldest winter on Earth brought famine as another month passed without you and your mother continued to grieve, crops died out and more humans began to starve. The dead began to trickle down into the darkness at an alarming rate and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi or the other gods on Olympus.

While Yoongi pretended to ignore the trouble he had caused, he kept his promise of making you happy. He brought you to the poppy fields whenever you asked, allowed you to rule at his side which meant he was more lenient about letting souls go, and kissed you every night while senselessly thanking you over and over.

On Olympus, Helios had finally revealed he’d known where you’ve been the entire time and it didn't surprise Taehyung that Yoongi had lied to him months ago when he first visited frantically asking for your whereabouts. Your mother was furious at this revelation, demanding someone retrieve you from the depths of hell.

After a long bargain between Yoongi and his brother, king of the gods, they came upon a decision which lead to Taehyung inevitably bringing you back to Earth despite your heart-wrenching tears and cries, begging not to be separated from Yoongi.

For six long and arduous months, you would reside on Earth with your mother and she promised not to bring another deadly winter for the mortals. In that time, you’d play with the nymphs again and wander the great halls of Olympus with Taehyung by your side, all the while wishing you were somewhere else—with someone else.

As the days of Summer came to an end and lonesome nights became longer, Yoongi eagerly awaits for you to return home once again.

4K notes · View notes

joonbug21 · 4 years

Text

Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: HandyMan!Namjoon X Pregnant!Reader, BestFriend!Taehyung X Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 11k

Genre: fluff/smut/angst

Warning(s): strong language use, childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping

It’s been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you’ve been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, “Oomf,” a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn’t one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

“So, when are you going to tell us?” The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver’s side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it’s been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor’s appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, “we have a right to know.”

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you’re freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, “Oh!” You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, “Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?” Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can’t help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you’ve decided since your first doctor’s visit that you do not want to know your baby’s gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you’re more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

“Oh Namjoon, you scared me,” a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay,” he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

“It’s no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,”

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father’s wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father’s office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It’s strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung’s arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

“Shhh,” he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you’re thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

“How?” You choke back another sob, “How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that’s what it comes down to? Shit… My dad is going to fucking kill me,” Taehyung’s shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

“Okay, now, you’re being dramatic,”

“So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren’t going to take this lightly,”

“Yeah, but I think it’s safe to say that telling your parents you’re pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,”

“Okay? Perhaps, you’re right,” a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, “especially not with what’s been going on with the church, I don’t know how much more they can take,”

“Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom,” Taehyung’s icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can’t help but endure.

“Tae, I’m so so sorry,”

“Hey,” he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you’re just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, “you didn’t know,” sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you’re close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you’re going through, but you’re not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung’s lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can’t stop yourself, and you don’t, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. “Tae,” you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn’t right. He knows this isn’t right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there’s anyone in this world you do not want to lose it’s him.

There’s no refraining, there’s no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you’re so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. “[Y/N],” he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. “[Y/N],” he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, “We- we can’t,”

You haven’t seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It’s a secret you’ve suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can’t help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother’s affair with your father.

Rage isn’t enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven’t spoken to him. You’ll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that’s something that’s hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church’s back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung’s family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, “[Y/N]?”

“Yeah?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you’re grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, “Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it’s time… for you to have the baby?”

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you’ve had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you’re too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don’t have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You’re embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your mouth.

“You don’t have to be sorry,”

“That… wasn’t what I was apologizing for,”

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can’t bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn’t discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn’t one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can’t seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

“What if… what if I’m not good enough?” Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

“How can you say that, [Y/N]?” The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can’t care for the child that you’re six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. “Look at me,” are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It’s the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon’s eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. “You’re going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,”

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, “How can you be so sure?”

“Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about,” it’s not a question, he’s stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. “You’re stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?”

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, “I do,”

“Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn’t have a choice, and you’ll let him or her know the second they’re born,”

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

“You don’t have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn’t know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor’s appointment bright and early,” the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

“Wait!” You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, “Can you uh, … Can you stay in here with me tonight?” You’ve refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that’s become apparent, and even now, you haven’t been able to comprehend how he’s not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he’s already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, “Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are,” you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it’s no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

“Have you thought about any names?” Taehyung’s voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You’ve missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you’re currently heating on the stove.

“No?” It’s a brief question of guilt, something you haven’t been ready to ponder, “Honestly… haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, “I should have known,”

“Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?”

“Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,”

“Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,”

“And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,”

“Since how? I-”

“Ask Hoseok,”

“You lost a bet didn’t you-”

“And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won’t I?”

“With me around, you will,”

Hoseok is the deacon’s son who’s dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He’s not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you’re thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

“You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-”

“Oh!” You playfully growl, “Back with that again, huh?”

“Do I need to send you a link of baby names-”

“I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?”

“You’d be surprised-”

Taehyung’s excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon’s atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you’ve kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you’re around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you’re uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

“They don’t know,” your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon’s soft eyes on you, his expression confused. “They don’t know who the father is,” that’s when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you’re referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, “I won’t tell them.” Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you’re trying to bury beneath this web of fear. “Besides,” you sigh heavily, “I’m surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here,” you confess, “if he wasn’t so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he’s proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor’s appointment without any hesitation; with all that he’s been doing for you, it’s like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn’t be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon’s been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He’s so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she’s free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

“Are you thinking boy or girl?” Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

“Hm,” you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that’s being redeemed with her, “you know? I’m not very sure,”

“I can tell from all the colors you’ve chosen,” she teased, “it looks beautiful,” she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn’t want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother,”

“Hiya,” you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, “How was your day?”

“It was good, thank you,” he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, “How was yours with your mom?” His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It’s hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, “It was good,” you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, “Thank you… For helping me,” the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you’ve been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

“Anytime.”

“It’s okay,” you chortle at his reaction, “it’s just the baby kicking,” his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that’s hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

“Here,” you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It’s the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

“I told you that you don’t have to do this alone,” he whispers, and it’s then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can’t refrain. He’s too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That’s all the invitation needed, for Namjoon’s lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you’ve been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don’t care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that’s going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you’ve slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you’re on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It’s eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, “SURPRISE!”, nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. “What?” You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

“Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!”

“I’m still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!” You say breathlessly, you’re so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend’s shoulder. Taehyung’s fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, “Your father let you come?” There’s a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae’s father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

“Well, no,” Taehyung winces mischievously, “I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,”

“Of course, you did, you sly fox,”

“You know you love me,” Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” you’re still wiping tears off your face, though it’s evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, “What did I do to deserve the two of you?”

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, “Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so,” he tilts his head toward Taehyung, “And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,”

It doesn’t take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

“You two are on kissing terms, again?” Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that’s something you’re not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon’s face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung’s hair while some swiped across Namjoon’s neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it’s good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you’re not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung’s heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, “I’m sorry, [Y/N]. My dad’s expecting me home soon,”

“I don’t want you to go,” you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers near your ear, “Please, please don’t cry,” His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. “Oh my gosh!” You squeal, “Tae, it’s adorable! Where did you find this?”

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, “I made it myself. And,” he pauses for effect, “since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta.”

“Ta Ta?”

“Yeah, like ‘Ta Ta… for now,’”

“Just when I thought I couldn’t love your dork of a self even more,” you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

“I love you, too.” His voice thickens with emotion, “Now, quit saying it like you’re never going to see me again, because you know I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It’s a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he’s always found within your heart. Taehyung’s agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what’s been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that’s displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

“I promise.”

He hadn’t kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it’s too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae’s departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It’s dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You’ve missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend’s presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You’re highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child’s cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

2 months later….

“Namjoon, I’ll be fine,” the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He’s concerned as he’s been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, “I’m not due until next week. Don’t worry,”

“I know,” he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, “But, I can’t help it.”

“I’ll be fine,” you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you’re now feeling upon your lips. “Mm,” you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, “You’ll be back before you know it,” you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

“Okay,” he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, “I love you,”

There’s a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, “I love you, too, Joon,” watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn’t go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. “Oh,” you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what’s happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

“No,” you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn’t be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no ’thump’ is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. “Agh!” A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn’t take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Joon, it’s time,” you choke, voice thick with pain.

“Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I’m on my way, just hold tight, I’m coming-”

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, “[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He’s going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn’t that wonderful?”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ma'am,” Namjoon’s polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you’ve grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There’s a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, “[Y/N], I’m here! Baby, I’m right here,” he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn’t end, “I’m going to grab the suitcase, I’ll be right back,” time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver’s side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he’s slowly but surely learning is that you’re not one to give up so easily- something you’ve noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he’s on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn’t breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

“Come help me,” you plea hearing Taehyung’s exasperated sigh on the other line.

“You are so annoying,”

“You know you love me, fool,” you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

“He doesn’t even come to the services,” Jo droned, “Don’t you think it’d be best to get to know someone that’s more… active in the church? Like the pianist’s son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-”

You can’t get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, “I’ll catch you later,”

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you’re thinking about other than Namjoon who’s keeping you sane.

“Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe,” his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

“GAH!” Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

“You guys aren’t going to stop until I’m your friend, am I right?” Namjoon’s elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

“Damn straight,” you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon’s tilting head.

“I thought church girls didn’t cuss,”

“And I thought you’d have more game than the basketball,” Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, “Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?”

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, “Okay,” the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung’s arms.

“HAH!” You sprint, colliding into Taehyung’s embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, “Looks like it’s going to be a burger and fries’ kind of night,” you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you’re safe. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN’ – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE’ helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon’s calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You’re not sure of all the commotion that’s overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, “Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out.” Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, “Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,”

“Taehyung… My mom… Dad-” you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

“No worries baby, they’re on their way. They’re on their way right now,” he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon’s atheism as well as him providing for his family.

“My dad couldn’t find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes,” it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. “Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck…” Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you’ve been determined to gain since meeting him.

It’s weeks later that you’ll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you’ve grown so fond of. There’s no denying the feelings he’s had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn’t left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn’t seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. “Ten centimeters-” He confirms, “Alright, [Y/N], the baby’s coming. When I say push, you push. Okay,” he positions himself though you can’t see anything past your gown and raised knees, “One, two, three! Push!”

“AGH!” You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

“Breathe, breathe,” Namjoon’s hand hasn’t once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

“Is she here!?” The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. “Oh, honey, I’m here!” It’s your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung’s red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, “Push!”

“AAAAAAAGH!” You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon’s. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

“I’m- I’m so glad you both are here,” you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, “Push!” erupts.

“I’m scared,” you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon’s soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don’t know where your parents are, and you’re too angry to care. You’re bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you’d hate to discover what the consequences will be.

“Me too,” his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You’ve never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you’re curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, “I want you,” you whisper. He knows that you’re a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. “Are you sure this is what you want,” concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted anyone so much in my life,”

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you’ve grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. “More,” you beg, “Please, Joon, more.” When clothes start to be thrown off, you’re determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. “Show me,” you breathlessly demand, Namjoon’s palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You’re surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn’t bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. “Holy shit,” he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you’re hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, “Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!”

He’s not ready for you to finish because there’s more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

“Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!”

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung’s gaze doesn’t drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you’re ready to see the child you’ve been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin’s. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, “It’s a girl,”

“Oh!” You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

“Sir, would you like to do the honors?” The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can’t even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

“Wait,” Your mom says, “Is- is?”

It’s a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung’s shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

“Yes,” the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad’s although your mother’s stare remains on you, “Namjoon is the father.”

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter’s heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter’s cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, “She is seven pounds and five ounces,”

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father’s quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

“Are you ready to hold her?” Monnie’s kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

“Yes,” you stifle a sob, “I want to hold her,”

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. “She’s so perfect,” you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter’s fingers fold individually upon her chest.

“Just like you,” Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

“I love you, Joon,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you, too.”

“Uh,” the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, “So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question,” the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, “What’s her name?”

“Ah,” you nod, realizing that hasn’t been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he’s ever longed for and more, and he’s ready to defeat any storm in life if it’s with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae’s question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

“Taejun.” Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

“Her name is Kim Taejun.”

7 notes · View notes

shibahobi · 7 years

Text

Cancelling their S/O’s date [Hyung Line]

Hi ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I’ve been super caught up with school i haven’t had time to post but it’s finally nearing the end of the semester and I’ve lost all motivation so I’m back :>

I TRIED WRITING ALL THE MEMBERS BUT IT’S REALLY LATE AND I’M ABOUT TO HAVE A STROKE SO MAKNAE LINE WILL BE COMPLETED TOMORROW ALSO SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES, LIKE I SAID, IM ABOUT TO HAVE A STROKE

Jin

You and Jin had plans to go to a nearby bakery that just opened recently as you hadn’t been on a date in a while due to the fact that he was always busy. The thought of finally getting to spend some time with him excited you, and of course you had to get him something. On your way home from work you saw the Nintendo ad for the pink version of the Nintendo switch and you knew what you had to do. The time for your date finally approached and you’re all ready when you get an abrupt text from Jin:

Shoulder bear 4:27PM

Sorry Y/N, I gotta cancel :( things in vocal practice aren’t working out right now, I’m gonna stay for a few more hours <3

It was upsetting seeing as you hadn’t seen him in months due to him being busy with his tour, and he just came back yesterday but you were already asleep. However, you couldn’t be mad at your boyfriend so you changed into something more comfortable and decided to go for a walk.

A few hours pass, you’re still outside. Jin returns home tired from practice expecting to see you sitting on the couch waiting for him, but instead he is greeted by the sparkly bag filled with pink paper that’s on the coffee table.

There’s a small piece of paper attached to the strings on the bag and it reads:

“My Seokjinnie! I’m really happy we finally got to spend some time together because you’ve been gone for so long and I missed you so much! Here’s a little something I got for you, i hope you like it!”

Jin then realized you were supposed to give him the present on your date and he’s instantly filled with regret. He didn’t have to stay for practice, but he did. And he missed the one chance he had in a while to spend time with you.

A few hours later you return from your walk and you’re surprised to see your boyfriend sitting on the couch with his head down, holding your gift in his hands. When you call his name, he looks up. But his eyes aren’t filled with happiness.

Namjoon

Namjoon made plans with you to visit the new gallery that opened up on the other side of town, so you would need to have a mini road trip which excite you even more. Namjoon always complained about having a sore back and shoulders from his heavy bags filled with his equipment and things he needed to carry for practice, and you always saw him eyeing the new Endi (I made this up oomf) backpacks and you decided to get one for him, especially since it was your first time spending time together in a while so you wanted to surprise him.

You put on your favorite pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt, and the cardigan Namjoon bought you for Christmas and wrapped the box with simple white wrapping paper, not forgetting to stick the little note you wrote on top.

You then received a text from Namjoon, assuming it was him telling you to come outside, your face lit up with joy, but when you saw the contents of the text message, your expression quickly faltered.

Joonie 7:36PM

Sorry Y/N, can’t make it tonight, production stuff :(

Your shoulders immediately dropped and you slumped on the couch. So much for art galleries and road trips. You changed into your favorite pajamas and grabbed whatever food you could find and you snuggled up on the couch and decided to watch a horror movie, maybe it would scare the disappointment out of you. You didn’t last long though, and quickly fell asleep.

A few hours later Namjoon came home, exhausted from sitting behind a desk all day. He thought you would be asleep in your room but what he came home too was a much sadder sight. He saw you huddled up in one corner of the couch, with chips all over the coffee table, melted ice cream and maybe 5 ramen cups, not to mention the horror movie on the screen. However he also noticed the white box in the corner.

“For my Joonie” the note said, Namjoon quickly opened the note and at the first sentence, he already felt bad:

“Hey Joonie :) I finally get to spend time with you and excited is an understatement. You always complain about your back and I saw you eyeing these backpacks so I got you one! I love you!!”

Namjoon kept reading the note again and again, his eyes sometimes making their way to the sight of you on the couch and he felt like the worst person ever.

(Honestly trying to find sad Joon gifs is like me trying to find my will to live so I ain’t gettin any teary Joon gifs anytime soon :(( you’ll have to use your imagination here kiddos)

Yoongi

Yoongi had agreed to a simple dinner date at a cafe you went to for your birthday so you were excited seeing as he was more a stay at home type of guy.

Yoongi had often talked to his friends about the new Frost ring set (please don’t ask i make this up) that everyone seemed to like and you noticed he still hadn’t bought it so you decided to get it for him.

You carefully slid the overpriced rings into a small paper bag and clipped to it with a pretty clothes pin looking thing. Your outfit was simple, but fancy enough for the restaurant you were going to.

Yoongi promised to pick you up so as you noticed the time of his arrival nearing, you headed for the door and started to put your shoes on you received a text from him.

Yoongz 8:52 PM

Sorry, can’t make it. Practice.

You let out a sigh and headed back into the house. You weren’t expecting much from him today but seeing as you hadn’t spent time with him in a while, you were quite disappointed.

You slugged your way to the bedroom and went straight to sleep, not even bothering to change out of your clothes or take off your makeup.

When you woke up in the morning you had pretty much forgotten about everything and weren’t surprised to see that Yoongi still hadn’t come home, or so you thought.

When you stepped out of your room, the first thing you laid your eyes on was on the figure bent over a small paper bag, with a piece of paper in their hands.

“Yoongi?”

When the figure responded and looked up at you, you were met with Yoongi’s cold, yet sad stare.

Hobi

You and Hobi were planning to go to the flower festival that was being held in downtown Seoul and you were more than excited. You and Hobi both loved flowers and being able to walk with your boyfriend through a whole street filled with flowers was a joy for you.

It had been getting colder recently so you decided to get Hobi a cute little beanie, you hoped to see his cute ears when he wore it so that added onto your excitement.

You wore your favourite dress, a cardigan and some frilly socks, and you made sure to not forget the beanie and note that were in the simple white gift bag. You headed out as you had agreed to meet with him at the venue.

Halfway there you receive a text from Hobi

My Sunshine :* 1:32PM

“I’m sorry jagiya :((( I can’t make it, this dance isn’t turning out how i want it :(”

Your mood immediately faded. You were sad he couldn’t make it especially since the flower festival only happened once a year. You decided to head to the practice room and still give Hobi his gift.

When you arrived, you saw Namjoon in the corridor

“Hi Namjoon!!”

“Oh hey, are you here to see Hobi?”

“I would have liked to but I’m sure he’s busy. Could you please give him this? i don’t want to bother him”

“Sure Y/N”

You left the building, trusting that Hobi would at least like your gift. You still headed to the festival though, you didn’t want to miss it despite how much your mood was spoiled.

When Namjoon handed the gift to Hobi, he was confused at first until namjoon told him who it was from

Hobi opened the note and started to skim over the letters written in your handwriting:

“I’m super happy we’re finally going to go to the flower festival!! I’ve been waiting all year :), I got you this since i wanted to see your cute little ears, also because it’s getting cold and you need to stay warm :)”

Hobi immediately felt like he had been hit with a load of bricks. He was angry at himself

#bts #bts reactions #jhope #namjoon #jin #taehyung #jungkook #jimin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #v #bts reaction

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spn-ficfanatic · 7 years

Text

Imagine Being Stung By A Bee Whilst On Set (v2. Angst)

Words: 1700

Warnings: Swearing, Anaphylactic reaction, Near-Death

No pairings, just some angsty goodness. Version 1 is fluffy and can be found here.

If you’ve read the fluffy version, you’ll notice that the story starts the same, but things start to change after Bob yells “CUT!”

I like filming outside, wish we did this more.

“Dammit Dean, put the knife down,” Sam begged. His older brother had thrown you on the ground roughly and was kneeling over you, knife in his right hand and daggers in his eyes. Sam was being held to the nearby tree by Crowley who looked on with a grin, like the cat that got the milk.

What is that tickle on my bum?

“Do it Dean, end this,” he practically sung. Dean seemed hesitant, which gave you hope, but all hope was immediately gone when he thrust the knife into your gut.

Shit, did something sting me?!

You cried out in pain, tears springing to your eyes instantly.

Fuck, something stung me!!

Your breathing shallowed as you stared into Dean’s eyes, with a look of hurt and betrayal that didn’t penetrate his soulness hide.

… ON MY ASS!!!

“Let’s go Crowley,” Dean said, holstering his knife and fading into nothingness while holding his gaze on your face. You rolled to your side to face Sam, holding your hands to your stomach to try and stop the blood flow even though you knew it was an impossible feat. You heard Crowley disappear also with a whisp of air, and Sam dropped to the ground with an oomf. He was instantly by your side, holding your head up and begging you not to leave him. You continued to cry and gasp in pain, and as the bloodloss became too much your head lolled to the side.

“Hayley? Don’t do this, open your eyes dammit. Hay!” Sam shook you gently, but you gave no response. Your chest ceased its rise and fall, and with it you ceased to exist.

“CUT!” cried Bob. Jared took a hand away to wipe the tears from his eyes before giving you a tight hug. You tried to catch your breath as you wrapped your arm around his back, patting his shoulder.

“Impressive take guys! Don’t think we need to do that again, we got everything we need,” said Bob cheerily. “Take 15!”

Jared let you go and stood up, and before he could offer a hand Jensen came over to pat his on the back and compliment the take. Neither notice you stay on the ground for that moment, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to concentrate on slowing down your speeding heart.

“Um, guys?” you heard Mark comment, and his gaze moved from them to you pointedly. Jared and Jensen both jumped at the sudden realization you were still on the ground and moved back toward you.

“Oh, sorry Y/N. Great take, I thought the knife got stuck for a second there,” Jensen said lightheartedly, holding out his hand as Jared did to help you up. You stayed on the ground on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows while fighting the dizziness that was creeping in.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, answering the unasked question, and Jared and Jensen looked at each other concerned. Both bent down on bended knee to get a closer look at you, and you felt Jared brush away a few strands of hair from your face which was now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Shit Y/N, are you sure? You don’t look so good,” he asked worriedly, placing his hand to your forehead.

“I um, I might need some help,” you admitted sluggishly, before your elbows gave out and you fell to the ground, your vision going black.

-----------------------------------

The guys were alarmed when you lost consciousness, both shouting your name as you fell. Jared caught your head and gently laid it on the ground, while Jensen’s fingers pressed against your neck to feel for a pulse.

“Hey, we need a medic over here!” Mark shouted, running over to the first aid trailer to get a team down there.

“Pulse?” Bob asked as he came and knelt down next to you.

“Fast, really fast,” Jensen replied breathless.

“Cummon Y/N, wake up,” Jared begging, tapping your cheek lightly. Your breathing was thready and you were obviously struggling to fill your lungs. The guys gasped when they saw your lips were starting to turn blue.

“Holy fuck! HEY, WE NEED SOMEONE HERE NOW!” Jensen shouted panicked, turning briefly to look for the medic team.

Mark was running back with the first aid crew sprinting ahead of him. They pushed Jensen, Jared and Bob aside as they leant over you to try and find the problem.

“She looks like she’s in anaphylactic shock. Is she allergic to anything?” one of them asked Bob, who shook his head.

“Not that I’m aware of. Guys?”

“She’s never mentioned anything,” Jensen replied, rubbing the back of his neck and holding his other arm on his hip. He was feeling sick just watching you lay there so still and pale. Jared wasn’t fairing much better, he looked like he was about to throw up and was holding his arms across his stomach.

Just as you took your last breath the first aid officer took a plastic tube from his bag and in one swift motion slammed it into your thigh, holding it there while counting under his breath. The entire crew watched on in complete silence while they waited for something to happen.

----------

You woke suddenly, taking a sudden gasp of air when you realized how desperate you were for oxygen. Your head became clearer and it took a moment to realize you were on the ground with Greg from first aid hovering over you. Susan next to him had her fingers on your wrist and appeared to be monitoring your pulse, while simultaneously speaking into her phone asking for an ambulance.

“Thank fuck,” you heard Jensen and Jared say in unison, and you looked up to see their horrified faces looking back at you.

“Y/N? Do you know where you are?” Greg asked you, and you looked at him in confusion.

“I’m on the set. What’s going on?” you asked, surprised by your raspy voice.

“You appear to have had an anaphylactic reaction to something. Do you have any allergies?”

You thought back to the moments leading up to your collapse and realization dawned.

“I didn’t think so. But, um, something stung me I think. Right before I…” you trailed off.

“Where abouts? I’ll need to see,” Greg asked, not noticing your face flush with embarrassment.

“Err.. well, on my, um… rear,” you replied quietly.

Greg smiled softly, understanding your unease, and continued. “No worries, I’ll help you up and we’ll get you back to the first aid trailer to have a look ok? If it was a bee we’ll have to get the stinger out right away.”

You nodded softly, your head pounding, and allowed him to help you stand. When your legs gave out Jared reached out and caught you with lightning speed, and without waiting to ask he scooped you up into his arms.

“What the hell Jared!” you squeaked quietly, surprised by the sudden altitude.

“Just… let me do this,” he said quietly, following Greg back to the trailer with Jensen alongside. You fell silent, realization dawning just how close a call it must have been for this type of reaction, and rested your throbbing head against his chest with a sigh closing your eyes. You could hear the siren in the distance and relaxed with the knowledge it was coming for you.

-----------------------------------

You couldn’t help but fiddle with your wristband. You’d been laying in this bloody hospital bed, in this horrible hospital gown, for hours now and were feeling antsy to get out of there. Greg had accompanied you in the ambulance, however Jared and Jensen had to stay behind to get the final scenes for the day done. Both were pretty angry with that but you understood where Bob was coming from… the show must go on as they say.

As soon as he was satisfied you were going to be ok Greg went back to set, leaving you alone for the last hour and a half waiting for the all-clear from the doctor. You didn’t even have your phone on you, figuring they’d accidently left it in the first aid trailer when you were bustled into the ambulance.

It was about 20 minutes later that there was a soft knock on the door, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Jensen and Jared in the doorway looking at you with concern.

“Thank Christ, I was getting bored,” you told them, gingerly sitting yourself up so your back was rested on the pillows. “Wanna sneak me outta here?” you asked with a smile and an eyebrow wiggle. They laughed and each gave you a tight hug before Jensen smacked you on the shoulder.

“Ow, hey! Don’t hurt the invalid!” you dramatically cried out, sticking out you bottom lip for effect.

“Yer well, don’t scare us like that again,” he told you gruffly, but with a hint of a smirk.

“Did you know you were allergic to bees?” Jared asked. You shook your head.

“Not a clue. Never had an allergy in my life. But then, I’ve never been stung before so... yer.”

“I like the get-up,” Jensen said, pointing to your hospital gown as he sat down in a nearby chair.

“It’s nice, right? Think they’ll let me keep it?”

You continued to chat with the boys, feeling much more animated since they’d arrived, and were pleased when the doctor made an appearance to discharge you. Now the proud owner of a pair of crutches, you hobbled out to the waiting cab while Jared and Jensen kept stride with you the whole time. Not an easy feat for two guys with legs as long as palm trees, so you were grateful to them for that.

“Oh, so I get the next few days off by the way,” you told them casually once you were all seated in the cab and headed back to your place.

“What? So, you’re telling me all we need to do for a bit of time off is have a near-death experience?” Jared asked in mock surprise.

“The secret it out. Don’t tell Bob I told you” you respond with a smile and a wink.

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mxnark · 5 years

Text

the best version of yourself

december 31, 2019

mina isn’t the type to feel ashamed of herself. everyone around her new that she was confident and outspoken. whatever she thought of inside her head, there would be a 59% chance she’d say it with a 41% chance she’d keep it to herself just because she had some manners. of course, she had some class by making a bunch of rant posts on her spam rather than on her main instagram or main twitter. some of her thoughts on real life would go on her stan twitter, but she’s tried her best to keep that mainly kpop and movies. but, to be honest, she wouldn’t have made a spam had it not been for her mutuals and her friends in real life.

this time, however, she felt emotions that she was afraid to tell anyone else.

she usually watched the gayos on her own, since she was the only one in the house who had an interest in them because her favorite idols were on that show. however, the one she always kept an eye on was mbc’s gayo daejejun because of the amazing stages that the idols would perform. not to mention, it was the gayo with the countdown to the new year. however, this time, she debated if she even wanted to watch it considering that this was the same exact one that she made a video audition for, only to not get in.

when she saw the post on mbc’s page, she was disappointed, but not surprised. it was bold of her to assume she would ever get the chance compared to the other dancers. when she watched the other entries, she was already beginning to feel insecure. but seeing the announcement only supported her negative feelings. however, one name catches her eye and it’s the main reason why she watches the music show tonight.

chungha isn’t the only reason why she’s watching this, but she’s the one mina looks forward to seeing the most. it’s weird how almost two years ago, mina became a fan from watching her on the fourth season of the mgas. now, she was watching her as not only a fan, but a friend. it’s only a glow up she can talk about on her spam, but she’s able to use her excitement for her tweets while streaming.

she makes sure to tweet about her favorite idols and their performances before the awaited dance performance comes. when it begins, she quickly takes out her phone as she patiently waits for her friend to be shown on her screen. she manages to record the 30 seconds of chungha’s dance on her instagram story while whisper-screaming throughout all of it. “ahh!!! kim chungha is so cool!!!! she’s the coolest unnie ever!!!” and a bunch of “wow!”’s and “so cool!”’s. for the group performance, she kept all her excitement on her twitter with a few pictures saved for her spam later on.

it’s odd. before watching this, she thought she was going to feel an overwhelming amount of jealousy just by seeing chungha for a second. but after the performance ended, she couldn’t help but feel inspired. perhaps it was because of the fact that this wasn’t the first time she’s seen chungha on national television, but mina didn’t feel too upset like she thought she would. what a relief.

she posts the pictures on her spamsta (spam + finsta) once the countdown for the new year is finished and captions it with her thoughts. after she posted it, she locked her phone, turned off her tv, and went upstairs to go to bed, excited for what was to come in the future.

notokmina: do you see her??/ that’s the coolest bitch in the world !!!! ever !!!!!

watching her tonight gave me so much motivation tbh. i remember i used to be so… starstruck by her when i first saw her on mga4 and now i know her in real life and we’re friends !!!! i’m so glad she got to audition for this and perform onstage in front of a bunch of idols. she’s so cool!!!!

i’m gonna work hard with future covers so that i can hopefully be dancing on that same stage!!!!!!!!! it’d be cooler if it was w her!!!! but yeah. hopefully if i work hard enough, i can be on the stage like her (and my cousin and brother if theyre reading this who knows)

she leaves a comment under her post.

notokmina: unnie, if ur reading this, hi!!! very proud of u uwu

…

january 2nd, 2020

having been on stan twitter since she moved back to korea, she’s gotten to explore the many sides of the website. though she’s primarily a kpop fan account, she also keeps tabs on film twitter. it’s to the point where she even has mutuals who are apart of that community and she frequently talks to them about her favorite movies (recently, it’s been about it 2 because she loves her best boys richie and eddie). so of course, when she asked for movie recommendations on her account, she hoped that said mutuals would see it and give their insight.

though there were many suggestions, she chose lady bird by the end of it. she knew about the movie years ago, but she never really got around to watching it until now. she’s read mixed reviews, so she was never really able to form a solid opinion on this movie. she told herself not to expect much, since this was a coming-of-age film. but, by the end of it, she found herself in tears. she goes on twitter and writes up a tweet as a response to the movie.

michi @noplayboy_mp3: film oomfs is it weird to say that i kin w lady bird lol michi @noplayboy_mp3: no but the film is so good i dont want to drop any spoilers but lady bird is like… so relatable? esp bc im kind of in her situation now. michi @noplayboy_mp3: icb greta gerwig said “michi has rights”... perhaps i will watch little women when i get the chance

before she’s about to make a tweet about watching midsommar next, she hears her phone vibrate. putting her laptop to the side, she picks up her phone and sees an email from snu.

dear mina,

the admissions committee at seoul national university has re-reviewed all aspects of your application in its holistic review process, and you have an updated admissions decision. you may now view your updated admissions decision in your portal.

she gasps.

as she clicks on the link to her portal and logs in, she was immediately welcomed by the site with a big “CONGRATULATIONS!” and if that wasn’t already obvious enough for her, she looks around to find the little “status: accepted” on her page. she sighs in relief and puts her phone to the side as she lies on her bed. she’s not necessarily excited that she got into a school. even now, she was still questioning if she wanted to go to school to begin with. all she knew was that at this point, she was going somewhere. whether or not this is what she really wanted to do, she at least has an idea of where she’s starting.

maybe now her mom would stop badgering her. maybe now she can show her that she could do things without her.

…

“i got accepted into snu today.”

it’s used to start discussion, even though she didn’t really want to talk about it with her. it had to come out somehow because even if she was nervous with how she was going to reply, at least her mom would be aware of it.

her father was the first to say something about it and mina wants to verbally thank him for speaking before her mom does. “honey, congratulations! i knew you would be able to get into that school.”

“thank you,” mina says with a small smile before she looks over at her mom to see what she will respond with because it was obvious she had something to say about it.

“why did it take so long for a response?” she asks. “you applied for early decision, didn’t you?”

it takes a lot for mina to not say something snarky in response. she’s not going to do that now. not so soon. “well, competition’s pretty tough. a lot of kids are applying for snu. especially in my class.” she wasn’t exactly lying, but it was a better response than “i was waitlisted for a month.” and even if she responded with that, at least she got into the school. wasn’t that enough?

her mom lets out a small “hm” before eating more of their dinner. “well, good job on getting into that school. with how long the response took, i was starting to worry.”

mina frowns. “i got into other schools, you know.”

“but did you want to get into any of those other schools?” when mina’s silent for a response, her mother only continues. “you said that you were aiming for snu and it took long enough in order to get a response.”

“can’t you just be happy over the fact that i actually got into the school?” mina asks, feeling her voice rise. “i thought you would be proud of me. is it that much of a surprise that i got in?”

“all of your friends got accepted into their schools quicker.” mina feels her grip tighten on the chopsticks in her hands. “all i’m saying is you should’ve at least tried harder or at least recognize that you should’ve done better.”

mina finds it hard to calm down after hearing that. it’s not like she didn’t expect a response like that, but to actually hear it from her makes her laugh bitterly. it’s sad to say she’s not surprised because this was what their relationship is at this point. even if she told herself that she just wanted to get into school in order to get her mom off her back, her words only make it seem like she was mocking her even if she reached at least the minimum. it made mina wish her mother lowered her expectations or at least make her own higher.

she eats her food in a hurry, hoping to get out of this dinner as soon as possible. of course, her mother has an issue with it as she glared at her from across the table. “slow down. you look like an animal eating like that.”

mina ignores her and she manages to empty her bowl, still trying to bite and swallow the leftover food in her mouth. she quickly stands up from her chair, puts her bowl and utensils in the sink, and runs upstairs, swallowing the last bit of her food down. she closes her door behind her even if she knows her mother was going to go up to her room anyways. when she hears the door open, she rolls her eyes before she turns to her mom.

“can you knock?” the impatient tone was one she’s used frequently enough. whether or not she was proud of it, she kept that information to herself.

her mother’s not afraid of it, though. in fact, if anything, she’s probably a professional at dealing with it. “you’re one to talk about manners,” she scolds. “what is with you?! at least try to stay for the entire dinner and not make it seem like you don’t like my company.”

“why would i do that?” mina scoffs. “you’d yell at me for faking it, anyway.”

her mom sighs. “why are you so selfish? why do you keep on doing this? do you understand how uncomfortable your father feels whenever we fight? how uncomfortable i feel?!”

“i’m sorry for being upset over you not being a good mom,” she responds, crossing her arms as if to do the bare minimum of making fun of the woman in front of her who would do the same in their past arguments. “i got into a good school and all you can say is ‘i’m surprised they didn’t reject you straight up’? no ‘congratulations’ or ‘i’m happy you got into the school you wanted to get into’? shouldn’t you at least be glad over the fact that i’m going-”

“how am i going to explain to the family that it took a few months for my daughter to tell me she got into snu after a few months since she applied?” her mom interrupts her, angering mina even more. “it didn’t take long for jaebeom to get his letter of acceptance. it didn’t take daniel long for him to know if he got in. do you know what they’ll say when i tell them you got accepted after countless times of me saying ‘oh i don’t know yet’, ‘she hasn’t received anything yet’? they’ll think i’m raising-”

“what? an idiot?” mina laughs. “yeah. i’m sure everyone in the family’s already aware of the fact that i’m never going to be a lawyer living in america. at least i got into a school.”

her mother then points at mina and she has to hold the urge to not swat the hand away from her face. “look at you! you’re already making yourself sound bad by acting like it’s a miracle they accepted you in the first place!” she criticizes. “you’re supposed to go to school. you’re supposed to get a degree in order to get a good job somewhere. after all your father and i’ve done for you and your brothers, why are you the only one who treats this like it’s not a big deal?!”

“i am treating this like it’s a big deal!” mina asserts. “do you know how many nights i spent studying for tests that i knew i was going to fail? all the times i had to stay after school in order to make sure it wouldn’t affect my chances?! i worked so hard in the last few months to be accepted and i’m the only one in this room proud of myself for it! it’s like you’re actively trying to find reasons to be disappointed in me, even when i do something good!”

“maybe you should be trying to not constantly disappoint me, then.” her mother turns her back to her daughter and makes way for the door, but mina mutters something else that makes her stop in her steps.

“the one time i do something that i thought could impress you and you’re still disappointed in me.”

her mother doesn’t respond. all she does is stand for a moment before she leaves, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

#wc: 2451 LMAO #(( might be less if u dont count the tweets #(( i never proofread so if u see any mistakes pls excuse them LMAO #tagging people bc they're mentioned #rkchungha #danielxrk #tldr: mina gets into snu but she also has mommy issues!#i also didnt have to include her watching the gayos but last solo talked about how mbc gave her an answer and snu didn't so??#also bc mina's a chungha stan before she is chungha's friend #( * solo )

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