#he has a head dimple that makes it hard to get the correct fit for a hat apparently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jenojaemssss · 4 years ago

Text

dazed and confused

pairing: jeong jaehyun x gn!reader

genre/categories: angst, college!au, frat boy!jaehyun, a bit of fluff

word count: 3.6k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble wtf)

warnings: mentions of sex, allusions of sex yk the vibes, oh and a lot of cursing 'cause i lack the ability to keep language below 14+

synopsis: jaehyun isn’t scared of heights. he isn’t afraid of roller coasters that dropped at those terrifying heights. but he is, in fact, so utterly terrified of falling.

a/n: y’all this was supposed to be a drabble…but i wrote too much and now it’s a fic and idk how i feel abt it LOL anyways, it has not been (and will probably never be) proofread so please excuse any grammatical and spacing errors! i will now go cry with my 3 assignments due in like an hour.

~~~~~~~~

faded. drunk. confused. mentally unstable. all these words, along with maybe 30 more could be used to describe your current state as you sludge your way into a familiar bedroom at the nu chi theta house after puking up probably a lifetime’s worth of alcohol.

the god awful ringing in your ears and the throbbing of your head makes the room spin, but you’re awake enough to recognize that the room was currently occupied. before you can mumble out a string of curse words and a sorry, you particularly notice exactly who was inside the room.

you’re caught off guard by a, now pissed looking, jaehyun along with someone who you don’t immediately recognize. you realize then who’s room you just entered and mentally smack yourself, reminding yourself to rid of the habit.

the other person is hiding underneath a blanket as jaehyun does his best to cover their figure, protecting their privacy to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting his ordeal.

it takes you a couple seconds to fully register what was happening in front of you and you scoff.

so that’s how it is.

jaehyun, on the other hand, has his eyes widened. so wide that you think there are more whites visible than the typical brown orbs. he’s gaping now, mouth open and trying to think of excuses as to why he was in bed with someone else after dumping you only 2 days ago.

in his defense, there’s no need for an excuse. the two of you were already over, and he could fuck whoever he wanted to fuck. you could be doing the same.

but you aren’t.

instead, all of yesterday and the day before, you hunkered in your bedroom, cuddled in a blanket with tissues sprawled all over your bed and the floor. you went to your classes, hoodie pulled up way over your head to shield your puffy face and baggy eyes, came home, drowned yourself in ice cream, and cried.

yet he’s here, hooking up with people after leaving you heartbroken. you should’ve listened to jungwoo when he warned you about his flatmate; about his tendencies to sleep around and leave his relationships in the dirt.

when you and jaehyun first began flirtatious interactions with one another, it wasn’t in your intention to start anything serious with the dimple-faced boy. yet one encounter followed another and you never realized how hard you were falling until you were up at 3 am smiling at messages he’d sent you the previous day.

when he asked you to be his girlfriend after about 2 months of successful dates, you were ecstatic. your mind raced back to jungwoo, correcting him telepathically. he was so wrong about jaehyun. he was the sweetest person you’d ever been with, and was so patient with you.

It even made jungwoo take back his words after you announced the relationship to your best friend.

he said jaehyun had changed since he’s been with you.

that change lasted about 4 months afterwards.

4 months of pure bliss; cute dates like picnics at 11 pm after going on drives, watching the sunset from the roof of a nearby apartment building, jumping fences into the expanses of lakes after hours.

4 months of being pressed into a mattress with jaehyun gazing down so lovingly at your writhing body. him pressing into you as your mewls surround the small bedroom. him holding you as both of you come down from your high.

4 months of falling in love with jaehyun.

all to waste after he texted you during class, saying that he needed to talk to you. at least he had the decency to not dump you over text.

jaehyun said something along the lines of “it’s not you, it’s me,” and mentioned that he “doesn’t like being tied down.” you remember nodding, emotions not surfacing until he stands up and leaves you at the coffee shop just around the corner of your dorm building.

your coffee shop. the one you two went to whenever you wanted to find the other. it was like your secret hideout, because no one from your campus knew of this place, even though it was so close to home.

you thought things were going so well, the two of you even making plans to meet each other’s parents over the coming break. but with only a few words from one side, and wordless nods coming another, everything faded to dust.

so as you stare at the man who shattered your heart with someone else underneath him, you plaster a polite smile before flipping him off and exiting the room. his shouts follow you, and you inwardly scream at him to shut up. he has no right to sound so broken at the moment.

you pass by jungwoo on your way out and he immediately notices your tense figure, trailing his eyes towards the direction you were coming from. his jaw clenches when he realizes, wanting to barge into the room and beat the living shit out of his flatmate, but instead follows you out the house.

the blaring music coming from the beaten house becomes muffled by the time you step foot outside the door, tears threatening, but not yet falling from your bloodshot eyes.

jaehyun isn’t slow to catch up with you, but is stopped by a raging jungwoo before exiting the house. jungwoo warns jaehyun to leave you alone, but jaehyun is persistent, pushing past his friend to grasp your shoulder before you could storm away from his reach.

his previous rendezvous has been completely forgotten, and all jaehyun could focus on was you. he notices how you reeked of alcohol, a hint of marijuana radiating from you as well. what he notices the most, though, was that you had a hint of his favorite perfume lingering on your skin.

before you have the chance to turn around, jaehyun is ripped from you, a loud smack following almost immediately after. jaehyun stands, one hand holding onto his pounding cheek while the other grip’s jungwoo’s shirt.

your best friend has both his hands tightly fisting jaehyun’s shirt, staring bullets into the boy’s face.

“you have no right to barge out here and chase us down after you let y/n go,” jungwoo growls. he sees red, heart hurting for his best friend. he cares about you so much. the two of you always fitting into one mold, completing each other, and every time either one of you had their hearts broken, the other would be there to fix and mend everything.

yet, he’d never seen someone hurt you as much as jaehyun did. however much you hurt, it hurt him equivalently. he knew this one was different, because the pain you felt was so much more intense than any you’d experienced before.

what pushed jungwoo even further off the ledge for him to act like this though, was that if he were to be in the same position as you, you would be doing the same thing. you’d also be doing your best to keep him from hurting himself over and over by someone who only meant trouble.

“woo, that’s enough,” you mutter out before coming to push the two boys away from each other.

“y/n, let me explain,” jaehyun grabs your arm as he says this, eyes searching yours for some form of reaction. your previously watery eyes are dry now, and the emotion that was threatening to overcome you minutes prior have all disappeared. you shrug off his hand.

“there’s nothing left for you to explain.”

it killed you, but you had to muster the strength to spit those words at the man you were falling in love with. you knew that it would have been worse if you were to hear him out.

“y/n please just-”

“that’s enough,” you whip your head in his direction, warning him with your eyes.

“but y/n-”

“i said enough!” you’re yelling now, slightly pushing the boy back. he stumbles over himself, and jungwoo takes this opportunity to grab your shoulders and tuck you safely behind his back. you had tears running from your eyes, frustrated at the tugging of your heartstrings because you’re supposed to hate him. you were supposed to be elated that you were in this situation, him begging for your time.

yet it hurt seeing him so broken in front of you, begging for another chance. it hurt so damn much, and you’re so angry at yourself for being such a pushover.

jaehyun straightens himself, looking in your direction but not quite at you because you're hiding your face behind your best friend’s denim jacket covered back.

“y/n, i just want to apologize.”

“there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“there-”

“no, jaehyun, there isn’t,” you use this as a stepping stone to emerge from behind jungwoo, who’s calmed down a bit since connecting his fist with jaehyun’s sharp features.

“don’t talk. let me finish,” you raise a hand before he could get another word out of his mouth. he shrinks a bit, but his eyes focus on your figure slowly approaching him, letting you know he’s listening.

“there’s no need for you to apologize for whatever you were doing because we aren’t together anymore and you can sleep with whoever you want. i don’t care, it’s none of my business. you don’t have to apologize for me walking in on you, because again, none of my business anymore.” you take in a deep breath before you continue.

“if you were going to apologize for breaking up with me, there’s no need. what’s done is done,” you whisper. you feel a huge lump form in your throat. you do your best to swallow it, along with your pride, and smile up at him.

you can’t really read him, but you can tell he’s in thought. you continue.

“if you were to apologize,” you began, sniffing up the snot that’s beginning to trickle down your nose. you probably look like a mess, but you could care less. you needed to get all of this off your chest. you wouldn’t have any other opportunities, so might as well do it now.

fuck the fake smile. fuck faking it til you make it. this is so much better.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were sincere with me,” you continue. jaehyun’s eyes go wide, and you notice the slight, subconscious, shake of his head. you proceed.

“i shouldn’t have believed it when you said i was different. fool me once, shame on me. but you continued to make me believe that i was different.” jaehyun opens his mouth, but you give him a look that shuts him up completely. he needs to fix that habit of always wanting to interrupt.

your ramble continues. “you should be apologizing for lying to me when you said you wanted to meet my parents. we set up the date and everything, and they were actually looking forward to meeting you, but now i have to tell them you aren’t coming,” you speak as calmly as you can. anything related to your parents always makes you ten times more emotional in every situation, and this was taking somewhat of a toll on you.

“you should be apologizing for making me feel special all the damn time. you made me believe i was the only one for you and that you were the only one for me. you made me feel so fucking foolish after you left, you know that? i thought we were doing so well, and you just left me in the dust after being so fucking vague. what do you mean ‘it’s not me, it’s you?’ it makes absolutely no fucking sense,” you’re almost hysterical now as you let everything fall down your face. you’re still eye to eye with jaehyun, and he looks taken aback by your declarations that he’s rendered speechless.

your next few words are what makes jaehyun’s world come crashing down.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were falling in love with me too,” you whimper. you’re full on sobbing now, and jungwoo assists you from falling to your knees.

it takes jaehyun a couple moments to register what was happening, a couple moments to fully comprehend what you were saying; what you meant.

you were so broken because you were beginning to love him. and he let you go.

“i’m..i’m-”

“leave, jae. do it when i’m asking nicely,” jungwoo’s low voice echos from your spot on the ground. your shoulder shake with every sob you’re letting escape you.

“jungwoo, let me fucking talk, okay? stop interrupting me every damn time while i’m trying to figure things out with y/n. this was our relationship, not yours!” he’s yelling now, and jungwoo shrinks. he knows he’s stepping over the line, but some things reach a limit, and jaehyun is reaching his.

“yes, i know y/n told you things, but did you know that i used to wait after classes when the weather turned bad just to make sure y/n wouldn’t be walking home in the rain? always forgot an umbrella when it counts,” he chuckles the last line, eyes teary.

“did y/n tell you that every single time my phone rang, i was internally wishing that the name popping up on the screen would be ‘lovely’ and no one else’s? i always wait for your calls, you know,” he directs it to you this time. “they always made my day.”

you raise your head when you realize he was walking to you. when you see his tortured expression while reminiscing his feelings for you, you suddenly had the urge to run up to him and wipe away the tears falling from his handsome face. you hated that that was your first thought, though.

“did y/n tell you i was falling too?”

you tense at his words, and jungwoo scoffs.

“if you were falling, why did you break things off?” the words leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. your mind was running a mile a minute because in what world did it make sense for jaehyun to dump you when he claims to be falling in love with you.

“i was scared,” he finally mutters after a couple seconds of painful silence.

“what is there to be scared of, jaehyun?” you’re standing now, jungwoo completely baffled at the interaction taking place in front of his eyes. he realizes then, that maybe jaehyun was telling the truth.

jaehyun was scared of falling.

jungwoo recalls all the times jaehyun has been in an actual relationship, but can only remember one other time that he actually introduced someone to the boys as his. all the others were just casual flings, where they'd be slipping out the door before anyone could acknowledge their existence.

when he broke things off with that past relationship, his actions were similar to the ones he’s portrayed the past few days. silence in his room instead of the typical blaring music from his sound system. a shocking decrease in teasing his housemates. jungwoo even noticed that he didn’t see the dimples on jaehyun’s face as frequently.

the one other person ended the same way, jaehyun breaking it off about 4 months into the relationship, saying he didn’t like being tied down.

he didn't like being tied down? he doesn’t like...shit, what a fucking dumbass. he’s scared of being in love, jungwoo realized.

“that’s what you meant,” jungwoo states his epiphany out loud and he stands up. he brushes off any dirt from his pants and begins to walk towards the house, knowing that whatever happens on the front lawn would heal more than harm.

you look at your best friend in confusion, but he plasters a grin on his face and looks in your direction before turning to jaehyun. “you need to stop being such a wuss.” and he’s back inside the house.

“it seems like everyone’s mission is to cut me off today, and it’s getting a little aggravating,” he tries to joke and you just stare at him in silence. he takes it as an, “i don’t care, just talk,” and begins his tangent.

“i broke things off with you because i was scared,” he begins. you follow his words with a nod, emphasizing that you’re listening to the man standing across you.

“i’ve never been in love before, and i didn’t realize how-how utterly terrifying it felt. i was close one time, but i broke things off before anything else could develop because i didn’t think i was ready for it. i felt like i was incapable of love for a while because of my stupid frat boy image, you know?” you nod in response to his rhetorical question and he begins moving towards the small bench sat on the lawn. you follow suit and sit yourself down a good distance away from him.

he talks again, this time sounding more regretful than anything. “i sometimes tell myself how idiotic i am because i let them go before. if i just had the balls to accept the fact that maybe i was falling in love, i wouldn’t have to see them roam around campus a couple months after with someone else.”

you remember briefly jaehyun’s previous relationship. it was the talk amongst your campus because the jeong jaehyun was in an actually relationship with someone. and people were making bets on how long they thought it’d last. same as they’ve been doing for your relationship with him.

“it all kind of got to me without much of a warning because like, shit, falling in love with someone meant checking your phone every 3 minutes cause you’re scared you missed their call, or calling them if they took too long to assure you they’re home safe, that kind of thing,” he smiles. “no one teaches you that.”

you chuckle dryly because he hit the nail on the coffin. no one tells you the details about being in love, only mentioning the feelings and not the irrational things you’d do for them.

jaehyun continues after he assures himself that you’re listening to his words and internally heave a relieved sigh. he was scared you were going to have things come in one ear and out the other.

“at the same time, if i kept them in my life, i wouldn’t have met you. we wouldn’t have developed a relationship, and i wouldn’t have began to fall in you,” he scoots a bit closer to you, and you let him.

“and you wouldn’t have broken my heart like this,” you retaliate and he physically winces.

“ouch. you’re not wrong though,” he smiles, dimples reappearing on his face.

“get to the point, jaehyun. it’s cold as fuck and i don’t have a jacket,” you complain when he’s silent for a little too long. you’re holding your arms now, hit by the frosty air. when he’s silent for another moment, you look up from your feet, ready to complain again. but instead, you’re met with a hoodie being pulled over your head and you’re stunned.

“when i said i was cold, i didn’t mean for you to give me your hoodie.”

“well, too bad,” he smiles widely. the hoodie smells like him, and you take in his scent. the sweater was a bit larger on you, so you begin to roll the sleeves up, pulling your arms out of the sweater paws.

“as i was saying, i realized i was falling in love with you and i was just- i don’t know, i was scared. i think i’ve said the word scared like 10 times today, but what other word is there?” he chuckles. you do the same.

“so i did what any other sane person would do and dipped. i ran away from my feelings because in my brain, it was the best thing to do. and i hurt you in the process because i was being a selfish asshole, and i’m sorry,” he finishes, you assume. as you’re thinking about how to respond, he catches you off guard with something you never thought would leave jaehyun’s mouth.

“oh, and i love you. i’m sure of it,” he declares.

and you’re crying again. as intoxicated as you were just 30 minutes ago, you swear that in that moment, you weren’t drunk on the drinks or faded from the j’s, but you were intoxicated by jaehyun.

the way he’s looking at you, the way he’s smiling at you.

he stretches out a hand in your direction, asking for your permission to take your own and grab his hand in response. his hand engulfs yours like a hug, and he intertwines his fingers with your cold ones.

“so does this mean you love me back?” he questions.

you nod, because you can’t think of anything else to say. you’re so utterly in love with him that you’re rendered speechless, you fool.

“and does this mean we can start over?” he asks, hoping for another nod.

instead, you speak. “why were you fucking someone else when i got here if you’re in love with me?”

jaehyun is now the one rendered speechless and gulps before answering. “have you ever heard of heartbreak sex?”

“isn’t that supposed to be with the one who broke your heart?”

“yeah, but if we had sex, i would only fall in love with you more.”

“and you don’t want that?”

“i do now,” he smiles.

you roll your eyes and say nothing.

“i’m sorry i hurt you.”

“you better be.”

“i promise i won’t do it again.”

“next time you do, i’m chopping off your dick in your sleep so you won’t be able to go have heartbreak sex with someone else.”

331 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

calculated iii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You wanted to say that you were able to control yourself around him and not to have wild sex at school. But this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about. And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. You wore that pencil skirt for a reason, after all.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, nipple play, choking, m-receiving oral, gagging, pussy spanking, fingering, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft Jimin once again, lol

–

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

Career Week was somewhat of a nightmare.

So much running around, prepping tables, setting up presentations, helping the guests with their computers before their seminars, and you had to be dressed professionally too. Not just ‘nice’ clothes, but white dress shirt, slim black tie, tailored black vest, and matching fitted black slacks. It had to be monotone, it had to be hyper professional, and you had to wear heels.

Why had you agreed to this again?

Oh, yes, Kim Namjoon on his knees begging for help because he was overworked and they needed volunteers. And you, being far too responsible, accepted.

Not only were you also overworked, but Jeon Jungkook was staring at you across the auditorium.

In all-black – leather jacket, high-necked shirt, slim-fit jeans. Sharp jawline, tanned high cheekbones, piercing dark brown eyes, his black hair pushed back with a few strands on his forehead, revealing his clean undercut.

And he was smirking at you.

You highly doubted he was here to investigate prospective career paths. Actually, you were a hundred-and-ten percent positive that that was not the reason he was here and the soreness between your inner thighs proved it. You were willing to bet Park Jimin’s right nutsack.

Yeah, sorry Jimin, but you needed all your body parts.

For one reason, really, and that reason was staring you right now.

Who was going to hire him when he was dressed like that anyway? You certainly wouldn’t. Mostly because it was distracting. No one could work with Jeon Jungkook looking like that. You couldn’t, anyway. Well, maybe if his work was wrecking your–

Get back to your damn task, you scolded yourself.

You were setting up chairs for the cardiologist that was arriving soon. All the doctors always had tons of students listening, so the administration instructed you to pack as many seats that could be crammed into the space without causing a fire hazard. You unfolded the metal chairs, arranging them neatly, already knowing they would be an incomprehensible mess when the students left and that you would be the one cleaning up after them.

Sigh.

Come to think of it, it was all Park Jimin’s fault that you were being violently undressed by Jungkook’s eyes right now. If he had kept his trap shut and let you live in blissful ignorance, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to hide your wincing every time you bent over. You snuck a glance at Jungkook.

He cocked an eyebrow, highly amused.

Never mind, you probably still would have been accosted at Calculus I office hours, except instead of the door being closed and locked and having Jimin’s warning texts, you two probably would have been caught and expelled.

You grumbled and slid a chair into place, taking back your former thoughts and thanking Jimin in your mind. He wasn’t even here to witness your inner struggle.

Jimin probably would have found it funny.

You went back to your chairs, not addressing Jeon Jungkook’s presence anymore because if you looked at him again, you probably would have abandoned your post. And he knew it.

The next day, you already knew Jungkook would show up again. Mostly because he texted you a winking face of a semicolon and parenthesis, to which you didn’t respond, because you would probably get roped into phone sex in under twenty seconds, and you had to help this extremely riveting lawyer set up his laptop for the projector.

As in, you were ready to tape his mouth shut as he blabbed on and on about his work and how important it was to society, which it was, because defense attorneys were very important, but this guy’s laptop was a fucking hot mess of icons all over his desktop. This was a personal pet peeve of yours, as you liked to be neat and organized, with everything clearly labeled with dates. You didn’t care about most people’s personal habits, but it was annoying when you were trying to assist and the owner of said laptop was not shutting up and demanding noises of affirmation that you were listening.

If it wasn’t Jungkook demanding you to swallow his cock, you honestly couldn’t give a single shit–

You finally got his PowerPoint working and had him scroll through the slides to make sure it was the correct one. He thanked you and you realized the older man was looking at you up and down, the same way Jungkook usually did, except in this case you were not even remotely interested.

Guess everyone had the right to get a good look before they die.

You were wearing a white chiffon blouse with a black silk neck scarf, with a tight knee-length black pencil skirt, sheer tights and sleek black heels. You knew how good your ass looked in this skirt and you had worn it for a specific purpose.

“We will be letting the students in five minutes early to get settled,” you stated briskly, cutting the older man from his daydreams. “You will have forty-five minutes for your presentation, and then we’ll have a fifteen-minute question session, led by my associate, Kim Namjoon here.”

As if on cue, Namjoon appeared, cheerful smile with cute dimples, handing the lawyer a mic.

“Let’s test the microphone and the backup to make sure you don’t have any hiccups,” Namjoon instructed merrily, instantly captivating the man’s attention and diverting it from you.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ behind the man’s back and Namjoon gave you the tiniest of nods as you excused yourself. Hmph. You knew people would notice – you were wearing makeup for once and would be around students and professionals all day, after all – but to be so shameless and gawk like that was annoying. Plus, the guy probably had a wife and kids.

You made your way to the bathroom to check your appearance. Maybe your makeup was a bit off or something. You had Jimin check you over this morning. Surprisingly, he knew a lot about cosmetics and how to look good in all lighting. Must be a dance major thing.

Ah, the door to the women’s bathroom. You hiked your skirt up a bit do you could use your damn knees to walk, because they had been suffocating for the past two hours–

Long fingers suddenly gripped your upper arm and yanked you around the corner, slamming you into a muscular body and black biker jacket. You nearly stumbled in your heels, but a second hand came to practically lift you off the floor and shove you into the wall.

“Good afternoon, noona.”

A clear, silvery voice.

You couldn’t possibly guess who it was.

“Why, fancy seeing you here, Jung–”

You were abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into yours, one hand grabbing the back of your head and disturbing your perfect bun. You whimpered, feeling him shove you into the wall again, your shoulder blades hitting the painted brick. His tongue slid into your mouth, exhaling into your throat and forcing you swallow his breath. Your hands clutched your skirt, moaning as his hard body pressed yours against the wall.

Jungkook drew back, panting a little. Looking so handsome with his slightly slicked-back hair, black strands around his right eye, chiseled jawline, silver hoops glinting in the hall light. He arched a sculpted eyebrow at you, smirking. His pink lips had a little red on them from kissing you.

“Now, you know you can’t be looking so delicious and not expect me to want to eat you up,” he purred, licking your lips. Your breathing hitched at the touch, unlocking your death grip on your skirt.

“What are you talking about?” you answered evenly despite your panties literally turning into Niagara Falls with the way he was looking at you like a carnivore at an all-meat buffet. “I have to dress like this for Career Week. Everyone has to dress professionally.”

Jungkook nodded, not believing a single word coming out of your mouth. His right hand came up, ink black tattoos against tan skin, and reached around to your bun, slowly pulling the hairpins out. Your skin tingled at the sensation of your hair gradually unravelling.

“A professional that I would hire to sit on my dick,” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow at him, your hair tumbling around your shoulders. “Subtle.”

Jungkook showed you the removed hairpins, opened his jacket, and tucked them in his inner pocket.

“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” you added haughtily.

With each passing moment, Jungkook was becoming increasingly amused and aroused. You could tell by the way he was shoving his crotch into your thigh and by how wide his smirk was getting. The slacks he was wearing did nothing to hide his erection and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care.

“Oh? Why not?”

“I don’t know if I could trust someone younger than me to do a good job.”

He was unbuttoning your chiffon blouse now, humming. “I’m good at many things.” His dark eyes flickered to yours. “I think you would know.”

Your hands grabbed his despite him already having all the visible buttons completely open. Cold air drifted onto your heaving chest and white lace bra.

“Jungkook, we’re in a public place, again,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t recall that being a problem,” he drawled, removing his hands from yours and squeezing your ass. “I’m beginning to think you like it.”

You sucked in a breath as his strong hands kneaded you through your skirt. Your hormones would absolutely let Jungkook rip off your clothes right here and let him fuck you, but the sliver of your brain that had any sense at all reminded you that you had to find a closed space. Jungkook slapped your ass, loudly, the sound echoing across the empty hallway. You nearly moaned, but bit your tongue, glaring at him.

“I have to get back,” you snapped. “And look presentable.”

Jungkook licked his teeth. “Hm. You have an hour before you have to appear to the public eye.”

Who the heck told him that? He smirked slyly at you as he saw your reaction.

“I could drag you to the bathroom–”

“At least give me more class than the woman’s bathroom,” you interrupted.

Jungkook looked annoyed that you had cut him off and also looked like he was going to remind you later. His fingers dug into your hips sharply and you gasped, back pressed flat against the wall. He inhaled a deep breath and began again, voice dangerously low.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’m going to take you into this classroom that I stole the key for.”

You frowned as Jungkook hoisted you up swiftly, princess-style, shirt still wide open. Fuck, what was he so strong for? He carried you down the hallway to the classrooms. You tried to close your shirt, but he growled at you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed the sides open, letting your bra-covered tits hang out. He seemed satisfied about this.

“Why would you steal a key?” you muttered as he deftly kicked the door open.

Jungkook slid through the door sideways. “So I could fuck you, of course.”

He dropped you and you had to catch yourself on your heels before you broke an ankle and ate shit. Half the lights turned on. You could hear him locking the door as you smoothed your skirt.

You turned to face him, saying, “You shouldn’t be a thief just because you’re horny, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turned around slowly from the now locked door. You were about to say something else, but your words died in your throat as you witnessed the overwhelming lust in his dark piercing eyes.

“I would be a thief, a murderer, and evade taxes for your body,” he snarled, advancing on you.

You pulled your blouse out of your skirt so he wouldn’t rip it, backing up into the desks. “You’ll get caught with the last one,” you said quietly, already removing your blouse and letting it fall onto a spare seat. “First two are acceptable.”

Jungkook grinned devilishly, licking his pink lips.

“Come here.”

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at his beautiful eyes, finding yourself already walking to him, heels clicking loudly in the empty room, but it didn’t matter, because he was the master now and you were the willing servant. Or slave.

Take your pick.

He smirked at your obedience, placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. His dark orbs lingered down your body, focusing on all his favorite spots, pressing his fingertips into your skin.

“One day,” you said quietly. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

Jungkook’s powerful dark orbs shifted upwards, capturing yours. Time slowed down. You stared into his dark brown eyes, unable to look away, your heart beating in time with his words.

“You’re already in trouble.”

Voice haunting you, teasing smirk on his lips, and perfectly in command.

“From the second you let me have my hands on you.”

You gasped as his nails dug into your skin, scratching down your collarbones, leaving red marks. He snapped the straps of your bra, hard, and you whined, eyes pleading for him to take it off. His palms pressed into the lace cups, squeezing them roughly. Tongue dancing in between his lips as he felt your nipples harden, barely covered by the lace.

“You’re so dirty, noona,” he purred, lowering his palms and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric, smirking at your wanton moan. “Wearing such slutty underwear under these professional clothes.”

You whimpered as he tugged on them. “No one’s going to see them but you, Jungkook.”

He clamped your nipples between his thumbs and knuckles, dragging you to him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pussy throbbing as you collided with his firm chest. His breath was scorching hot against your skin, making you shiver.

“What if someone finds out? Some idiot like a perverted old man staring at your ass in this skirt?”

You snorted. “I’ll rip his head off.”

Jungkook snickered, flicking your nipples with your answer. “You wouldn’t let me do it for you?”

Your hips rolled into his, hands on his waist to keep yourself up as he played with you. “I’ll reattach it for you so you can do the same.”

He laughed, almost a little too jovially for the part he was playing, but then he was back, tipping his head close to yours, blowing soft air onto your lips. You frowned, glaring at him for the lack of kiss.

“If possible, you’re even hotter dressed like this,” Jungkook murmured, his forehead against yours. “So prim and proper, even with a cute gag tied around your neck,” he added, playing with the ends of your neck scarf. “You could be a CEO, and I could be the janitor fucking you on your penthouse-floor desk.” He was undoing your scarf now, teasing it apart, making you breathless. “Maybe fuck you against the window so everyone can see how good I make you feel, noona.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than a janitor,” you muttered, stiffening as Jungkook ran his fingertips over your throat, nails grazing your skin.

“True, I would rather be your secretary so I can follow you around and stare at your ass in this skirt,” he chuckled, lacing his fingers around your neck. Thumb under your ear, the other four fingers under your other ear. You made eye contact with him. He looked almost bored, one of his eyebrows raised, but he was watching you, predatory and attentive.

“I know what I’m doing.”

His whisper was so soft that you barely heard it, but the words were there.

His grip tightened around your throat.

You gasped, feeling the blood flow thinning, hazing your mind. Jungkook watched your expression, reaching around with the hand that was holding your scarf, unclasping your lace bra. You could feel it fall down your arms, but your thoughts were rapidly being clouded by lightheadedness and lust, Jungkook smirking at you as he lifted the silk scarf into your vision.

“J… Jungkook…” you choked out.

The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you as he grinned, brushing the silk against your hard, abused nipples, touch so light, and yet it made your whine, wanting more stimulation but unable to ask because you knew he was toying with you.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook taunted. “Not intense enough for my naughty noona?”

He choked you harder and you couldn’t respond, eyes rolling back into your head as black spots danced in your vision, the sensation intensifying but still not enough, not enough, and you shoved your hips into his repeatedly, whimpering, hands clutching his black shirt, nails digging into his abs.

“So needy for me,” he breathed, feathery touches of silk against your nipples. “Are you only mine?”

He leaned forward, loosening his grip a little. The blood violently rushed back into your head and all you could hear Jungkook’s cruel whisper of your name, tearing a moan from your lips, a raspy yes, yes, fuck, Jungkook, I’m only yours.

He chuckled darkly.

Then he forced you to your knees, tits bouncing uncomfortably as you slid on your heels, knees hitting the tile floor. You clutched his clothed legs, panting, brain only half-functioning due to the lack of blood and the relentless teasing. You lifted your head back up to look at him, panting hard.

Jungkook cracked his neck sharply, a harsh pop. “I want to believe you, noona, but you’re dressed so fucking sexy that I can’t.” His dark eyes bore into you, tearing you up, and you were dripping onto your inner thighs. He emphasized his words with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Letting other people fantasize about this body that belongs to me isn’t acceptable.”

His hands reached down, fingers of his right hand playing with the button of his pants, tattoos dancing with his movement. He smirked as you watched him, eyes darting from his face to his hands. Shit, you were nearly drooling with anticipation. You swallowed as he teased the button free.

“You gonna show me that you remember who you belong to?”

You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but it was doomed now anyway because Jungkook was lowering the zipper, pushing down his pants and underwear, past his muscular thighs. It was obvious this was getting him off as much as it was getting you off, because he was rock-hard, leaking, tip already a dark red. Jungkook grabbed the back of your head and shoved his hips into your cheek, smearing his pre-cum onto your skin, all the way up to your cheekbone. He hissed, using his hand to press the head against your temple, nearly into your hair.

Fuck, he was so fucking close to your mouth, but he wasn’t letting you have it.

Damnnit.

Your tongue snaked out and softly licked his balls, eyes on his face, watching him tip his head back and moan. You licked more, creeping your head closer, pressing your lips against his hot skin. He was letting you do it, holding his cock out of the way as you wrapped your lips around his balls and sucked, pushing them around with your tongue, pleading noises in your throat, begging him for his cock as you bobbed your head up and down under his hips.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shifted down to you, triumphant grin on his lips.

“You want to swallow my cock, noona?” he teased, smacking it against your face, leaving a string of pre-cum connecting your cheek to his cock. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if to say, no fucking shit, you punk ass bitch, and he chuckled deep in his chest. He looked past your head, down your back.

“Such a nice ass.”

You smacked his leg, aware that he was doing it on purpose to piss you off. He smirked knowingly, placing his palm on your forehead and pushing you off his balls.

“Swallow it all and don’t choke,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his cock into your open mouth.

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, relaxing your throat muscles as Jungkook forcefully pushed into your lips, sighing with satisfaction as he buried himself to the hilt, his strong fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, so good,” he moaned, making his cock throb into the roof of your mouth. You whined, hands on his hips, waiting for him to let you move. “Your throat feels so fucking good, noona. If only they knew how good you are, how perfectly slutty you are for me.” He snickered, releasing his hand, glaring down into your eyes.

“But they’re never going to know, because you’ll never service another cock ever again.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his thighs.

He ticked his chin at you. “Go on, noona. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You began to move, pressing your tongue against the bottom as you slid up and down his length, moaning at his taste. So good. You generated more saliva and ran it all over the head, sucking hard. He inhaled sharply as you teased the sensitive underside, tongue against the opening.

“That’s it,” Jungkook breathed. “Give it to me like you mean it.”

You gripped his thighs and began to bob your head back and forth, ramming the head into the back of your throat and squeezing it before arching your neck so it ran across the roof of your mouth and then back down so it hit your throat again. Was this going to make you hoarse? Probably, but you didn’t a single shit, because Jungkook moaning for you and telling you how good you were was much more important. The pace was slow at first, but you went faster and faster, tighter, your breasts bouncing with every movement, eyes closed to savor his taste and steel your concentration of not gagging because Jungkook was so big, so thick, so perfectly rough, and your tongue could feel him throbbing inside your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled above you, nearly feral with desire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum down that perfect throat of yours, noona.”

His thighs tensed under your hands and you knew he was close. You increased the intensity, neck straining, already aching with how fast you were going.

“Drink it all and don’t fucking waste it.”

Jungkook grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his hips into your face, moaning lustfully as he shot into your mouth, hot creamy strings into your throat. You swallowed fast to avoid choking, gulping loudly as he gave you more, more, fuck it was so delicious that you gasped, swirling your tongue around his jerking cock and lapping it all up. Whimpering, you wrapped your lips around the head and milked it dry, rubbing your lips against the skin where the head and length connected.

“You’re so fucking good,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. “So messy and dirty. I love it, noona.” He pressed your mouth down his entire length and held you there.

Your name drifted out of his lips, a sweet exhale.

He kept you there. You felt some of your spit drip down your chin and hit your breasts. You flinched at the coldness, still holding onto his hips. Jungkook finally looked down at you, chest heaving, panting. He looked like he wanted to say something. You shot him a questioning look, unable to respond, mouth still full of his cock.

He released your head, untangling his fingers from your hair. You drew your mouth back, rubbing your jaw and throat a little. Jungkook had a strange expression, lips parted, brows furrowed, the muscles in his neck tensed. He seemed a bit spaced out. You tilted your head.

Something felt off.

You stood up with as much grace as you could, knees aching, heels snapping to the tile floor. He still wasn’t looking at you. You backed up, to the desks, finding a study one.

“Jungkook.”

You smacked the wood loudly with your flat palm.

He whipped his head towards you, dark eyes flashing. Perfect. You smirked, placing your hands on your pencil skirt. Sank your fingers in, gripping the fabric. Jungkook’s voracious eyes watched your movement, each hike revealing more and more of your legs. A slow smirk formed on his lips. You yanked your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your white lace panties and sheer pantyhose, black fabric bunched around your waist.

Jungkook reached down and pulled his pants up, raising his eyebrows as he walked over, lower lip in between his teeth as he grinned at you.

“That’s a dangerous position to be in, noona,” he purred. “You know I love fucking you on a desk.”

You bounced your ass up onto the table, closing your legs, knees together. Placed your hands on your lap, pushing your tits together. Jungkook licked his lips, the predatory glint back in his eye. You kept your tone stern, with a hint if disapproval.

“Really? Because for a second there, I was beginning to think you lost your nerve.”

The menace in his eyes made your shiver with anticipation. You could tell Jungkook liked it too, your word selection, your tone, your defiance. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and it fell to the floor with an oppressive thump. You sucked in a tight breath. The shirt was short sleeved, exposing his tattooed right forearm and his equally beautiful tanned left one. Some of his long black hair was falling down, brushing against his right cheekbone.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like they were devouring you.

Jungkook placed his large hands on your knees and vehemently shoved them apart, spreading your legs wide. He gave you a cold, expressionless stare as he placed a hand on your stomach, putting you onto your elbows, hips tipped up towards him. You were embarrassingly wet, juices soaked into your inner thighs, lace panties already molded to your soaked folds, the sheer pantyhose doing nothing to protect you from him and his hungry eyes. His voice was icy, making your pussy throb with need.

“Noona, if you close your legs, I’m going to punish you,” Jungkook warned.

Part of you wanted to know what the punishment was, but the other part of you really wanted to orgasm, so kept your snide remark to yourself and simply nodded.

Jungkook removed his hands from your knees and placed them on your shuddering breasts. Fuck. You hadn’t realized you were so horny until Jungkook touched you. A pained whimper strained in your throat.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

“Does my dirty, slutty noona want to be fucked?” His nails sank down, digging into your skin. “Do you want to be used by me, your tight little pussy stretched out and pleading for more?” Jungkook leaned forward, breathing into your face, growling whisper against your lips. He pinched your nipples and you moaned, wanting to kiss him, but knowing he wasn’t going to let you. He chuckled darkly, seeing your desperation.

“Do you want to be a slave for Jungkookie’s cock, noona?”

Fuuuuuuuck.

Your heart was beating so fast that your breathing was coming out in little gasps as he twisted your nipples harshly, rubbing the tips with his thumb. Your legs shook, threatening to close because the lack of friction was killing you.

“Y-yes, Jungkook, fuck yes.”

He yanked on your nipples and slapped them, making you hiss with pain, flinching as the sting shot up your chest. Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced the silk neck scarf.

“Keep quiet for me noona or everyone will know how much of a slut you are for me.”

And then he shoved your own scarf into your parted lips, gagging you. Not a second too soon, because, without warning, Jungkook immediately spanked your barely clothed clit. You yelped around the silk, thighs quivering. He gripped one of your thighs, digging his nails into it, tearing the sheer pantyhose a little.

“Don’t move and take it,” he snarled.

Your back arched as Jungkook began to slap your pussy, hard, unforgiving, loud, and making you wetter and wetter, so much so his hand was slipping a little with each smack. You screamed around the scarf, hips trembling as they rose to meet each hit, flaring pain in between your thighs but so, so good. He clenched his jaw, dark eyes on your quickly reddening pussy lips that were sucking your panties deeper and deeper into your slit.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, you’re so hot and so fucking perfect for me.”

He removed his hand from your thigh and ripped the center seam of your pantyhose apart.

You started, eyes widening as you watched him tear through it, yelling at him through the scarf. You still needed to wear those! The small tears were one thing, but a full-on giant rip at the crotch was not going to be comfortable to wear for the rest of the day.

Jungkook smirked, raising a hand to his ear. “What’s that? Can’t hear you.”

You glared at him and was about to remove the scarf from your mouth to scold him, but his smirk turned into a roguish grin.

“Hm? Slap you harder and abuse your clit?”

You paled.

“My pleasure.”

You threw you head back as Jungkook mercilessly spanked your now only lace-covered clit, impossibly fast, towering over you and hooking his arm under your back, dragging you to him, arching your spine more, more, so your tits were straight up, bouncing right in his face as he changed from smacking your clit to rubbing it just as fast, rougher, so intense you were hoarsely wailing into the gag.

All of a sudden, your orgasm violently rammed into you, pleasure racking your entire body, amplified by stinging pain. Your pussy clenched around nothing, wetly squelching as Jungkook breathed hotly down on your nipples, still rubbing you through your orgasm, not letting up. You shook your head furiously, trying to tell him it was too much, that you were too sensitive, but you didn’t lift your hands to stop him, only spreading your fingers against the table, palms flat as your hips raised to his fingers.

You felt his hair brush against your nipples as he licked your cleavage, smirking up at your face.

“One more and then I’ll fuck you the way I want to, noona.”

Your legs were losing feeling from how hard you were locking them in place as you felt Jungkook pry your lace panties out of your pussy, shoving them to one side. Oh shit. You moaned as you felt him shove two fingers into you, eyes squeezing shut as he added a third, scissoring them as he smiled cruelly at you, eagerly watching your reaction.

“Such a greedy pussy, sucking in my fingers like this,” Jungkook drawled, your walls clenching around them, feeling every callus and every joint, all the way to his knuckles. “All mine, my beautiful, slutty noona.”

You would have asked Jungkook what the time was if your brain could still function, but your brain timed itself out, because Jungkook was thrusting his fingers into you now, filling you up, and feeding your need and desperation, assaulting your pussy with pleasure. The pain of your stinging, puffy lips rubbing against his hand added to the ecstasy, heightening it, your moaning now unintelligible behind the silk scarf that was saturated with your saliva. The sound was obscene, sloppy smacking sounds of your drenched hole getting pounded into the desk.

You threw your head back and choked out his name around the makeshift gag, throbbing pussy clamping down on his fingers. Thick, viscous liquid gushed out onto his palm, the back of his hand, dripping down to his wrist. It was so intense that your entire body jerked up into Jungkook’s face, hitting him with your tits.

If Jungkook was mad about it, he didn’t show it. He wrenched his slick fingers out and you whined, watching him with glazed eyes as licked them off, ferally growling at your taste. He released your back from his arm and you slid down, laying against the desk, panting.

“You taste extra delicious today, noona,” he chuckled. “Candy always tastes better in cute packaging.”

You barely had time to register that Jungkook had just compared you to a fucking convenience store snack before he yanked down his pants again, whipping out a foil packet and ripping it open. Less than a second and the condom was on, and then Jungkook shoved his cock into you, a startled gasp dying in your very over-used throat.

Jungkook moaned your name above you, softly and lustfully, pulling your hips closer to him so he was all the way inside you. You clenched around his length and he sighed, small smirk on his pink lips, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re going to kill me one day with how perfectly tight you are for me,” he mumbled.

Your eyes found his and he grinned, looking down at you through his lashes, his hair obscuring half his face.

Fuck, you could stare at him all day.

Jungkook placed your legs around his waist, finally letting them rest from the forced spreading. He roughly jerked his hips into yours and you whimpered, nails clawing into the desk. His fingers dug into your hips and he set his jaw, beginning a hard, fast pace, slapping your hips together, fucking you into the desk. It scraped noisily into the floor, but neither of you cared, you abused pussy lips rubbing against his crotch every time his hips met yours, carried to new heights of pain and pleasure, loving every second, every moment of Jungkook using you to chase his own orgasm, his cock swelling and dragging against your tight walls. So much. So full.

You could never be satisfied with another cock.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook hissed, grip on your hips tightening, bruising you with his fingertips.

“Fuck, noona, I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

And then your orgasm crashed down, overtaking you completely, your head smacking the desk and seeing stars, clenching around Jungkook’s cock and pulsating violently around his length, soaking his thighs with your juices, scent so strong you were sure whatever class that was going to use this lecture hall next was going to smell your cum splattering to the floor.

Jungkook gritted his teeth and rammed his hips into you, dragging you down to meet every thrust, intensifying your orgasm, ripping your pantyhose even more. Once, twice, three times, and he groaned, shuddering as he spilled into the condom, cock shivering inside you as he came. You could feel how much it was, pressing against your walls.

His long hair was all over his face, black strands clinging to his tan skin, sweat dripping off his chin, pink lips quivering, dark eyes roaming over your fucked-out form. Panting hard, matching your heavy, grating breaths behind your now saliva-drenched neck scarf. After a long moment, Jungkook reached down and held onto the condom, slowly pulling out of you.

Holy fuck.

You reached up with a shaking hand, pulling the silk out of your mouth. It came out in a long strip of fabric, smacking against your cheek as your removed it from your lips.

Holy.

Fuck.

You sat up, your body screaming at you, seeing Jungkook breathing hard, tying up the condom.

“Did you just tell me you love me?”

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. He chewed on his lip, biting it hard before facing you. Dark brown eyes suddenly vulnerable, scared. It was the most uncharacteristic expression you had ever witnessed on Jeon Jungkook’s chiseled, handsome face.

“Uh… yeah.”

There was a moment where you realized both you two were mostly naked in a random classroom, clothes thrown everywhere, having made a mess once again.

“Sorry,” Jungkook added quickly. “It slipped out.”

You blinked at him. “Why are you apologizing?”

He rubbed his nose, looking away.

“Well… aren’t you just fucking me because you like to be dominated?”

You frowned. “No, I’m fucking you because I’m in love with you.”

You saw Jungkook freeze. He turned his head robotically, eyes wide and doe-like. “R-really?”

You looked down to notice that your heels were on the tile floor. When had you lost those? You grumbled, trying to straighten out your panties and the remains of your pantyhose. It was doomed. You shrugged, dangling your legs over the edge of the desk as you looked back at Jungkook and his surprised expression. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really that much of an idiot?” you muttered, your own cheeks burning, letting out a puff of annoyed air. “Yes, I love you. Why else would I tolerate you staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal? Why else would I risk getting in trouble by running around like this? Why else would I let you fuck me at school, in the middle of the damn day, again?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… because I’m hot?”

You rubbed your forehead and sighed exasperatedly, standing up, instantly wincing. Jungkook took a step forward to catch you, but he almost tripped on his pants down his ankles. You caught yourself against the desk and raised a hand, shaking your head.

“Pack your damn dick,” you muttered. You yanked your tights down your legs, removing them and balling them up. They were useless now anyway. You found your bra and put it back on as you eyed your chiffon blouse. Good thing it wasn’t ripped. It only took you a moment to slip it back on, rebuttoning it and tucking it into your skirt. You pulled your pencil skirt back down, straightening it, thighs immediately sticking together from your own fluids.

Yup, still no more comfortable than yanking your pants back on after a session with Jungkook.

You noticed him putting his leather jacket back on and picking up the condom wrapper. He took the silk scarf from the table and shoved it in his back pocket. You went back to him to gather your shoes, but he knelt down, holding out your black heels as if you were Cinderella.

“I can just–”

“Step.”

His tone was sharp and you immediately obeyed, raising your foot and stepping into your shoe. First one, then the other. Jungkook stood back up, exhaling a little. You looked up at him. His chocolate eyes flitted about tensely. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you… uh…”

You cut him off. “Jungkook, if you cheat on me, I will personally castrate you with a spoon.”

He cringed. “Ouch.”

You took the used condom and the wrapper bits from him, shoving them into your balled-up pantyhose. You marched towards the door confidently, pain shooting throughout your body with every step. Jungkook called after you.

“Your hairpins.”

You turned your head back a little.

“You can drop them off at my apartment later.”

And then you unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom.

Park Jimin waved at you, grinning. Plump lips curved into a mischievous smile, wearing a denim jacket and jeans. You almost jumped seeing him standing there. What the fuck is with this guy’s timing? He eyed your hand holding your ruined pantyhose and you put it behind your back, glaring at him.

“I told Namjoon you had a lady emergency.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you before holding up your phone and black purse, the belongings you had left in the back room. “You took longer than you should have.”

You felt your ears burn. “Shit. I need to get back.”

“To Jungkook, yeah,” Jimin chimed teasingly, making you glower at him.

Of course. Jungkook had turned Jimin into his scout for your escapades. Fantastic. You suddenly felt a strong presence behind you. The door had opened and Jungkook’s arm snaked around your waist, yanking you possessively to his side. He placed his chin on top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You wanna go on a date, noona?” Jungkook purred, his free hand playing with the ends of your disheveled hair.

You pursed your lips. “I have to get back and help Namjoon.”

Jimin waved a hand. “He’ll be fine for one day. Plus, you’re being kidnapped.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook slapped his hand over your lips, marching you in the opposite direction of Career Week, Jimin skipping behind you two, cheerfully humming.

part iv

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

776 notes · View notes

sweetestlamb · 3 years ago

Text

Walk Through A Storm

Author's note: Honestly, like I could help myself from doing this. it's short because I need to actually get my life together but enjoy. Oh also I don't wanna think anymore so someone give me title in the comments lol I'll pick the one that fits the best. (Thanks for actually giving suggestions, one really spoke to me!)

Summary: "I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet."

"I thought you were going to reject me." She whispers in between the small space between them, their lips are close enough to meet again in another soul burning kiss and he's tempted to close the gap again. They can talk later so for the second time in his life he wants to be selfish, she brings that out in him; makes him hungry for more than he thinks he deserves. She's been doing that since he first met her.

"I'm not ready to stop kissing you yet." Her eyes widen at his whispered words and without pause he leans closer softly pressing his lips against hers. She tastes sweet like the best candy he could never get as a young boy. Her little hands slide up his back dragging him closer and he goes easily, his walls are saw dust at this point and she's a windstorm. Wrapping his arms fully around her body he pulls her closer, cupping the back of her head as he swipes his tongue at the seam of her lips. She gasps in a way that makes his blood bubble and flow southward. The sea roars besides them providing the soundtrack to their first cognizant kisses. Hopefully the first of many.

The kiss drags and overlaps, her tongue persistent in his mouth and her hands busy stroking and rubbing at his back. It takes all of his willpower to sever their connection but he's starting to feel light-headed (and horny). This all still seems like a dream ever since he saw her running over to him, when she was supposed to be in Seoul. Leaving without telling him. Making him think the worst.

"Why do you look like you want to cry?" She cups his cheeks and he's reminded of that unforgettable night. She looks so concerned that he wants to disappear not used to being on the receiving end of such looks.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He tries to brush her off, viciously wiping at his eyes but she doesn't let him push her away, grabbing his hands tightly in her own. "Tell me what you're thinking. I told you everything in my head."

He almost chuckles at her expectant gaze. She sounds like him demanding payment.

"People usually leave but you're the first...to come back early." He smiles sadly thinking about all the people he'll never see again, and how he considered that she might go back to Seoul and realize that she was much too big for the pond that was Gongjin. He wouldn't have stopped her, she deserved the whole world.

"The first hm. I like that." He stares at her face, grinning at the satisfied grin and the enveloping dimples on both sides of her face.

"A daughter with your dimples would be dangerous, I think I'd understand how Chun-jae feels then." She pauses at his words mouth gaping and it hits him just what he's implied about their future. It's presumptuous and he should correct it but his tongue feels too heavy and her bright eyes suck the air from his lungs.

"Where's Mi-Seon? How did you get back so quickly?"

"Oh." She jumps cutely, suddenly hitting him on the shoulder and he winces ready to scold her for hitting him so close to his injury. But then she starts hitting herself on the head and instinctively he grabs her, stopping the self inflicted abuse.

"Stop that. I like that head." It's cheesy, something he would have cringed at if he heard another utter it but once he sees the smile she rewards him with none of that matters anymore, he'll say anything to make her beam like that.

"You're such a flirt." She fails at sounding bothered. "Oh and I left her in Seoul. It started raining and I realized you were it for me so I ran into the rain and left her on the sidewalk. Crazy right?" She starts snickering at her own words and he stares at her taken aback laughter forced out of his lungs at her infectious giggles.

She comes into his house like she belongs there, going to his fridge without permission and grabbing a bottle of water. He feels parched watching her drink it, never before has he wished to be a plastic bottle. So many firsts with her.

"What are you staring at?" She tilts her head like a bunny and he can't get the image of her with floppy ears out of his head.

"Cute."

"What?" She blushes furiously at his accidental slip and he clears his throat before grabbing his phone, desperately needing a distraction.

"Nothing. I'll call someone to pick up Mi-Seon."

"Who are you calling?" She asks walking over to him, sitting far too closely for his brain to function at maximum capacity. When a deep familiar masculine voice answers she squeals, bouncing in her seat and giving him thumbs up. He feels so proud he could burst.

"Don't say no. She's all alone and abandoned. What if something happens to her? Could you live with yourself?" He replies to the stuttering officers weak refusals and those are the right words to get the meek man moving, it's comical that he would be playing matchmaker for anyone else.

"You're a master manipulator." She accuses and he stares in surprise, "Does it upset you?" But she surprises him by leaning closer, spread deliciously across his compact couch. "No. It's sexy." Her face is glorious under the soft lighting in his living room and he swallows the drool collecting in his mouth, embarrassed when it starts a coughing fit. She thumps his back firmly before thrusting her water at him, "Drink." He listens obediently.

He gulps at the bottle, taking a deep breath before collapsing backwards into the couch.

"Am I making you nervous?" Making. As if it's only a present occurrence, as if she hasn't been making him swallow his words and expectations from the very beginning. He shifts looking at her through narrowed eyes.

She's far too innocently twirling her hair blinking up at him with wide eyes.

"You're doing this on purpose." She smiles serenely at the claim, leaning back onto the couch and by default his arm that's strewn across the top. She presses her body into the side of his body and he tightens his hold on her shoulder. It all feels too natural.

"I'm surprised it's working. You never seemed affected by me. You denied liking me so easily. Biological crisis, my ass."

He jumps at her cursing, she sounds too much like her father. It makes him smirk.

"I thought I had to. You were right, we are so different. I thought it was something fleeting for you, you told me you're someone who gets curious."

"Pfftt. You think I get curious about just anyone? I have high standards. I'm quite a catch you know?" Her signature bravado, but this time he can see through the veil better. Can spot the cracks and tears and it makes him want to protect her even more.

"I know. You're the best thing I've ever caught."

He'll never grow tired of being the reason that face turns so pink and flushed. (Immediately pushing aside an image of her beneath him.)

"Wait here. I have something for you." He wants to argue as she starts to leave his embrace but she's too quick for his grabby hands and he pouts at her unwanted departure. He moves to follow her but she's back before he's even finished putting on his shoes.

"Where did you go? We could have gone together."

"What? Did you miss me?" She teases, dimples flashing up at him.

"Don't be absurd." He denies but his cheeks burn yes.

"Whatever. I went to get this. Here." She thrusts a large bag at him, looking excited and embarrassed all at once. He takes it confused, prying it open and feeling more confusion wash over him.

"These are men's shirts." He says dumbly and she stares unimpressed at him, rolling her eyes before nodding.

"Yes. I got them for you in Seoul. Keep them even if you don't like them. They're a gift." She looks so small and... scared that he reacts without thinking, dragging his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side. The sight that welcomes him as his head pops out of the hole is not a new one, but it's still as effective as the first time. Hye Jin looks desperate, eyes locked on his now naked chest. His skin raises under her intense gaze.

"Miss Dent--Hye Jin ah?" His call doesn't do anything, well that's a lie it doesn't knock her back to reality like he'd expect instead it seems to be the siren call that lures her closer to him. Her hand outreached before landing on the tense muscles in his stomach, with one touch he already feels devastated.

"What are you doing to me?" He aches to feel and touch and kiss and fuc-

But it's too soon for all that. They haven't even defined this yet and despite all the lines they've crossed he wants to do this right.

Taking a step back he escapes her torturous touch and pulls a shirt from the bag, ready to cover himself back up from her too penetrating gaze.

"Wait." Her voice is so raspy and longing he has no choice and he watches mesmerized as she watches him hungrily, eyes darting all over his naked skin dissecting him. He swallows hard when he sees her little hands balled up in fists by her side. Disbelief swirling in his belly. "Okay. You can do it. That's enough....for now."

His cheeks flare at the seductively spoken words and to stop himself from devouring her like a starved man he slides on a smooth button down shirt. It fits him perfectly and gulps as he buttons it up. Nobody besides his grandfather ever bought him clothes.

"It's a perfect fit." Hye Jin echoes his thoughts smoothing a hand across the soft material. He stands ramrod straight at her ministration.

"Thank you. I'll wear it well." His throat is thick and he has to blink to chase away the tears pooling there, dangerously close to falling. She hums before stepping forward into his space again, that kiss effectively tearing down all the walls and lines they had both erected and drawn.

"You're already wearing it so well. But...it looks even better off. I can't wait to see it on my bedroom floor."

A scandalized squeak is all he's able to get out before she's diving at him and devouring his lips so roughly that they tumble onto the floor.

The pain in his shoulder is worth it as she kisses him senseless systematically driving out every doubt and insecurity. At least for tonight.

#hometown cha cha cha #hong du shik #yoon hye jin #sikhye #I was screaming kiss kiss omg #i was actually hyperventilating #i thought things would fall apart #I'm traumatized #episode 9 made me wanna write angst #but then 10 came and said nah b

66 notes · View notes

artaefact · 4 years ago

Text

grinchly, yours.

—wordcount: 15k+

—genre: angst, fluff, bookshop owner!reader, florist!hoseok, bookshop au, christmas au, flower shop au, s2l au

—pairing: jung hoseok x f reader

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: awkward moments, a cemetery scene, mention loss of loved ones, a soft!hobi

—summary: Christmas time is around the corner, everyone is celebrating to their heart’s content, but not you. No, you despise Christmas and the joy it brings. That is, until a friendly florist decides to pay your bookstore a visit.

author’s note: i’ve been meaning to write a character with the grinch’s personality and this story has been revolving around my head for some time !! happy reading everyone 💖

prompt: “carolling” for @btsholidaybingo event & “winter market date” for @kdiarynet winter hearts event !!

You nearly lose it when a snowflake lands on your face — specifically, your eye — for the third time now as you pad along the asphalt road. Releasing a breath, you calm yourself. This should be a regular occurrence for you. Still, you can’t help but scowl at the sight of fake candy canes and decorated fir trees near the streets and shops, and well, basically everywhere.

Once you near your bookshop, another annoyed sigh escapes your lips when you find a group of people singing right in front of the door again. Honestly, your patience is running thin as you have once told them to not sing in front of your bookstore.

Cursing under your breath, you try not to meet anyone’s eye and opt to quickly enter your shop. However, one of the members notices you and waves at you. You recognise him as Jimin — a local baker who likes to stop by your bookstore to look for recipe books.

After responding with a brief nod at him, you unlock your door and rush inside.

It’s not even Christmas yet, so why are these people singing Christmas carols early in the morning already? The sun has barely even risen up!

A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you can’t hear the choir anymore, at least muffled by the door of your bookstore. Moving towards the cashier table, you place your messenger bag underneath it before getting to work.

Carrying boxes of books back and forth from the supply room is the daily norm for you. You find comfort hidden between the shelves while you stack the newly-delivered books neatly into their allocated place. Many would say that it’s a lonely job, especially since you refuse to hire anyone to work in your store. But you don’t. You seldom feel that way.

The soft music from the jukebox is the only thing that keeps the bookshop from falling into complete silence as you work on reshelving and rearranging the books. That is until the bell on top of the front door rings.

“Welcome!” You place the books on the wooden floor, standing up only to see Jimin peering on the aisle you’re in, smiling ear-to-ear.

Sighing internally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

You sit back down on the wooden floor and continue to shelf the books. “Didn’t you do that before?”

“You didn’t say a word.” He moves closer and plops down beside you.

You merely shake your head, still focusing on your task. “How many times do I have to tell you not to let those choir people sing in front of my store?”

“Right,” Jimin answers sheepishly. “You see, we are still scouting for another area and—”

“Well then, find it quicker. Why don’t they just sing in front of your bakery?”

“It’s not exactly an ideal spot for singing…”

“And the front of my store is?”

“There’s not much public transport station here—”

You huff in annoyance. “If you don’t have anything else to do besides making excuses, I would appreciate it if you leave. As you can see—” Lifting one of the books in emphasis, “—my hands are full.”

Despite your cold words, Jimin dismisses it quickly. “Well, I’m looking for a book about plants.”

“Botany?” Your brows furrow. “Did baking go wrong?”

He snorts. “As if, but my friend is looking for one. He asked me if I could get one for him.”

“Is there a particular book he’s searching for?”

Jimin hands you a piece of paper.

“Oh, I have to place an order for this one,” you utter. “I’ll send you a text when it has arrived.”

Nodding, Jimin finally stands up and is ready to leave when you call him.

“Oh, and Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, take your fellow choir crew somewhere else to sing.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

The box lands on the cashier desk with a thump before you send a message to Jimin, a week later.

[ 2:05 PM ] You: your friend’s book is here

Placing your phone on the table, you peel off the wrapping tape and open the box. The printed white letters of Guide to Gardening contrast against the pine green background of the hardcover as tiny drawn flowers scatter across the edge of the cover.

You read the synopsis curiously, wondering how someone can find garden-work interesting when your phone dings — a text notification from Jimin lights up your phone screen.

[ 2:09 PM ] Jimin: Oh! I’ll tell my friend to pick up the book himself. He should be able to swing by today.

Not bothering to reply to him, you put away the book for safekeeping — leaving Jimin on read, as usual, and get back to check your supplies, making sure everything’s in stock.

An hour or two have passed until someone enters your bookstore. “Excuse me?”

Looking up from the papers, a new customer staring at you. “May I help you?” You ask, standing up from your seat.

“I ordered a book. And my friend, Jimin, told me it has arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble through your paper-covered desk, reaching for the book. “Are you—” You check the name it was ordered under. “—Hoseok?”

He nods, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Here you go.” Handing the book to him. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The subtle smile on his face turns into a bright grin as soon as he reads the title. “It is.”

“Great,” you nod. “Do you still want to take a look around, or would that be all?”

Hoseok’s gaze lingers on you, a bit too long for your liking, but he shakes his head regardless. “This would be all for now.”

“That’ll be twenty-five dollars.”

While you print the receipt, he asks, “Are you a friend of Jimin’s?”

“Acquaintance,” you correct him, handing his receipt.

“I see. May I know your name at least?” He extends his hand.

Blinking at his question, your hand moves before you can think twice about taking his hand in yours. Ignoring the way your hand fits so well in his, you introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

And a bright, bright grin appears on his face, one that you swear can light up the whole bookshop. “Hope we’ll see each other again soon, Y/N. Just recently opened up my shop near the corner of the street.” Then he makes his way out of the store, steps faltering slightly before the entrance, giving the bookstore a once-over and walks out.

The next time you meet Hoseok is when he visits your store in passing. “Hey, Y/N!” He greets you as you place a stack of books on the cashier table from the delivery box earlier.

“Hi, Hoseok...” You do not know what to make of his cheerful demeanour.

“How’s your day?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. Is he seriously asking that for no apparent reason?

“Fine, I guess,” you answer nonetheless as you rub your palms against your jeans. “Just had to clear out the storage and rearrange some shelves.”

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh! I’m looking for a book about orchids,” Hoseok explains. “It’s so hard to grow them.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll check the supplies,” you mumble, moving and clicking your mouse to find what he is searching for. Hoseok moves to a nearby aisle, looking through random books while you move to the allocated aisle of the book he wants.

Hoseok is confused for a moment as his attention is set on the little post-its on the shelf. As he takes a closer look, he realises that these are your reviews of the books. He can’t help but chuckle at how enthusiastic your reviews sound.

It’s amusing how you are interested in The Grinch.

Plucking one of the books, he makes his way to you. You are so focused on the books as he stands beside you, then he pokes your shoulder and you jolt. “Oh my—”

Hoseok apologises sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

You clear your throat. “It’s fine. I tend to tune out my surroundings when I’m focused. And, uh, here—” You hold out the book to him. “—is this it?”

Hoseok nods, smiling as he takes the book and follows behind you to the cashier. As you type in the order, he asks, “Do you like this book?” Your movements falter at his sudden question, which he notices. “I saw some stickers you posted beneath the books that seem to be your favourites.”

Cheeks growing warm at his words, you stammer, “Well, I thought it would encourage people to buy and—”

He places one of the books that you recommended on top of the book he was looking for. “I’ll get this one too.”

“But… It’s a children’s book.” You gape.

“I’m not big on reading heavy novels, Y/N. So, I think this is a good start,” he shrugs. “Plus, you recommended five stars for this and your review—”

“Okay!” You cut him off, grasping the book. “I-I get what you mean, but are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Am I not here as your customer?”

Sighing mentally, you proceed to scan the barcode. “That will be forty-seven dollars.”

Meetings with him are refreshing, as it is odd. Hoseok would come by your bookstore once in a while — once a week or even twice. At first, you thought something was up. Definitely, since he didn’t purchase books on every visit. But what throws you off is that he would come by to drop desserts or even just a quick ‘hi’ when he is busy that day.

You’re sceptical indeed. Was there a bet being made to befriend you? But he wouldn’t have treated you to those sugar-coated doughnuts or hot chocolate if he wants money.

Deep in your own thoughts, you walk along the usual route to your store; hands tucked inside your thick coat, even ignoring the snow that’s covered your beanie.

You’re not used to this; someone just straight-up approaching you, or just enjoying being in your presence with no obligation to do so. Haven’t he heard of the rumours that surround you? In a small town where you live, he must have heard something.

Thoughts drifting back to reality, your eyes twitch as you find those carolling people in front of your store again. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out an annoyed sigh.

How many times should you tell them to scram? And where is Park Jimin?

You scan through the faces of the group, and he was nowhere to be found. Muttering a curse under your breath while ignoring the slight aching in your chest, you stomp towards them.

“Hello,” You plaster on a big fake smile, ceasing their singing at once. “I thought I had told one of your crew — Jimin — that you can’t sing in front of my store. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s not joining us today,” one of the choir members answers, nonchalantly. “We didn’t know that this is a private area. I thought you only own your part of the store.”

The other choir members glance nervously at each other; their reaction an obvious contrast with this chipper, unheeding chatterbox in front of you. Gritting your teeth, you force down the curse words that are on the tip of your tongue back before clearing your throat. “Well, now, you know.” You pin down that girl who opens her loose mouth with your sharp stare. “So, I would appreciate it if you’d leave and never sing in front of my store again.”

She is about to respond when her crewmembers stop her from saying anything further, which is fortunate for her. In minutes, they pack up and finally leave.

Rubbing your temples, you make a mental note to put a sign in front of your store that says no choirs allowed, or any Christmas activities at all. After changing the ‘close’ sign to ‘open’, you place your things on the cashier table. Looking at the old jukebox fondly, you trace the intricate, beautiful designs for a little while before you turn it on. Soft jazz music fills the air instantly, and your heart warms up at that.

Deciding to have a little reading time, you pick a book from your favourite section. However, you falter momentarily when you realise it’s the same book Hoseok bought last week from your post-it recommendation. Sighing, you place the book back and pick another.

Time flies so quickly when you immerse yourself in books. By the time you check your phone, it’s afternoon already. And then the quiet atmosphere shatters when the bell of your bookstore rings.

“Y/N!” His familiar cheerful voice startles you.

“Hoseok…” You’re back again.

“I’m grabbing a bite in Jimin’s bakery, would you like to join?”

“No, I’m—” Your stomach growls loudly as if on cue.

Hoseok laughs at that, “Your stomach says otherwise. C’mon! You shouldn’t stay cooped up in your shop the whole day.”

And you can’t bring yourself to reject his offer again.

“How long have you been running your bookstore?” Hoseok asks as you both make your way towards Jimin’s bakery.

“It’s been... Five years,” you answer hesitantly.

“Oh, that’s quite long! Have you always been interested in books?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ve loved reading since I was a child.”

You didn’t realise how much you had enjoyed conversing with Hoseok until you reached Jimin’s bakery.

That was quick, you thought, at the sight of the pastel pink store.

Stepping into the bakery, Hoseok calls out, “Kookie!”

“Hyung?” The familiar man called ‘Kookie’ greets him after serving a customer with their order.

You wreck your head for his name — you know this guy. Well, have seen him with Jimin most of the time but you didn’t bother to know his name. Or actually, you did, but you forgot.

The only ones you can come up with are “John Cook’ or ‘Jungkook’. It has to be either one of those or else you’d embarrass yourself further.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s nice for you to come by!”

Screw it.

“Nice to see you too, John.”

Kookie lets out a giggle. “You can call me ‘Jungkook’ instead of my last name.”

Then it clicks. Right— it’s Jeon Jungkook. Thank the heavens ‘John’, and ‘Jeon’ sounds similar.

You feign indifference. “Alright, Jungkook.”

“Jimin is out with his girlfriend for hot chocolate, he’ll be back soon.”

As soon as you and Hoseok take a seat, Jungkook hands you both the menu before dealing with other customers.

“So... Are you sure you’re new here?” You break the silence. “Looks to me that you seem to know everyone here already.”

Hoseok chuckles at that. “Not everyone. But Jimin, Jungkook, and I go way back.”

“Ah, I see...” Then you cast your stare to the menu once more. But your attention shifts to the glass door to see Jimin and his girlfriend laughing. Not long after you catch his gaze, however, the warmth dissipates almost instantly. He stalks towards your table at once.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin seethes, eyes boring into yours as you match them equally with your icy ones.

“Ah, Jimin,” Hoseok turns to look at him. “I was grabbing something to eat, and I invited Y/N along and—”

“Y/N is not welcome here,” Jimin seethes.

Hoseok’s eyes widen before it gradually hardens at your defence. “Since when?”

But Jimin’s eyes are on you once more. “Why did you drive the choir crew away again? What did they do to you? They managed to sing a few blocks away from your store!”

“That is bullshit.” You stand up and level his gaze. “They sang in front of my store again, still disturbing the peace in my shop. And I told you to take your choir crew somewhere far to sing.”

Jimin lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what they—”

“Believe whoever you want,” you cut him off, mood darkening. “And since I am not welcome here, I’ll see myself out.” Without another word, you head out of the bakery. Clutching your coat tighter to your frame, the sound of your boots thumps along the cobblestone until another pair of rapid footsteps follow behind you.

“Y/N!” Hoseok calls out, grabbing your arm. “Hey… I—” He catches his breath. “I’m sorry, Jimin is an asshole to you—”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I—”

“Hoseok.” You turn to him. “Why do you even bother to befriend me?”

His eyes widened at that before he splutters, “B-Because, why not?”

Taking a step closer to him, you consider asking him if there is a bet going on, but decide against it. “I’ll be fine. You go back to Jimin.”

Without another glance, you turn away once more, leaving him in the midst of the cold weather.

Autumn flies away too quickly, you bitterly thought. You find yourself missing the warm colours of the town, where the crunching sound of fallen leaves will always fill the silence when you go to work or go back home. Or, spring sounds good to you too — bright, vivid flowers loitering around as the warm sun kisses your skin.

Not this whole white fiasco. Your mood always dampens when you walk out of the house, only to find the usual bright morning still dark as it takes later for the sun to rise up.

‘Achoo—!’ You let out a sneeze, wrapping the thick blanket around your form tighter. The heater of the store is cranked up to the fullest, yet the winter cold still manages to get you.

Letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, you continuously flip through the accounting records of your store, eyes scanning the numbers to make sure no mistakes are made. Unable to focus further, you sigh.

Maybe you should do other things before getting back to these numbers.

You let out another sneeze as you trudge to the storage room, huffing in annoyance while you sniffle. Taking out an opened empty box from the shelves, you pack children books into it when your doorbell rings.

“Please wait a moment!” You quickly shove the box to an empty corner before rushing out.

“Umm,” Hoseok stands awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Hi…” He takes a few steps closer. “I’m sorry about yesterday—”

Posture stiffening, you cut him off, “It’s not your fault, nor it was Jimin’s fault. It was my own mistake.”

He tries to argue. “No, it’s—”

“Hoseok, it’s alright.” You reassure him, plastering on a tight smile. “Really.”

“Ah, that’s… Well, these are for you.” He extends a bouquet of orchids.

You stare at him. “W-Why…?”

“I thought it would brighten up your bookstore,” he rambles. “Uh, unless you don’t want it? It’s really fine—”

You take the bouquet from his hold, your smile turning genuine on your lips. “Thank you.”

He grins at that. “Well, I’ve got to go back to the shop. Maybe we can go out for coffee or even lunch whenever you’re free?”

When you nod in response, Hoseok’s expression lights up further. With your numbers exchanged, he waves you goodbye and exits your store. It’s quiet once again, and you merely stand there, still staring at the bright purple hues of the orchids.

Perhaps, it’s still ol’ winter outside, but it feels as though spring blooms within the walls of your bookshop now.

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

Hoseok is in a good mood; he whistles some random pop songs as he makes his way back to his shop. “I’m back!” he chirps, scrubbing his snow-covered boots against the ‘welcome’ rug.

“I was beginning to think you have lost your way,” Jungkook comments, eyes focusing at the bouquet in front of him, wrapping it up. “The next customer won’t be here until three and, wait—” He looks around frantically at the scattered flowers on the counter. “Hyung! Where are the orchids?!”

“Huh?” Hoseok feigns innocence. “I thought we had them. You’ve cut their stems right?”

“Yes, but—”

It’s kinda funny to see the usual composed Jungkook, now, panicking. Little did he know, Hoseok had taken the last of the orchids to make a bouquet for you.

“Hyung! We need orchids! The colours don’t match! And—”

Hoseok snorts. “Use the hydrangeas. They fit with whatever bouquet you’re wrapping.”

Jungkook makes a face. “It’s not going to be the same as how I pictured it, Hyung. It has a different meaning too!” However, Hoseok has gone into the changing room to change into his usual working attire. From outside, Jungkook grumbles to himself, “I don’t deserve this treatment. I helped Jimin, and now Hobi hyung too. And for what exactly?”

“So, you won’t stay cooped up in your room until New Years.” Hoseok comments, tying his apron then rolling the sleeve of his shirt till it reaches just before his elbows.

“Okay, but ‘fess up, Hyung—” Jungkook still looks unamused. “What did you do to the orchids? I know you’ve worked hard growing them so you won’t give away those flowers easily.”

“Huh,” Hoseok feigns innocence, grabbing a set of flowers to wrap. “Really? Maybe I did give it away to someone pretty, who knows.” Beautiful, in fact.

“Who?” Then Jungkook’s face turns dumbfounded as he seems to realise something. “Wait, don’t tell me it’s Y/N.”

“Why not Y/N?” Hoseok raises a brow, sparing the younger one a questioning glance.

Jungkook groans. “No, hyung, don’t you know she’s like… Unapproachable? Like even Jimin’s charm does not affect her at all. In fact, she made him angry the other day!

Hoseok mindlessly nods at Jungkook’s rambles. “Yeah, yeah…”

It goes quiet for a moment before Jungkook asks, “So… Did she throw away the flowers at once and kick you out of—”

The image of your bright eyes and soft smile engraves itself into his mind as he works on the bouquet at hand.

“No.” A smile appears on Hoseok’s face. “She loves it actually.” All that time he spent and the hard work of growing those orchids really does pay off.

“What did you say to her? I don’t think she’s the type to accept an apology gift that easily.” Jungkook tilts his head slightly, still questioning.

True. At first, he wanted to give it as an apology gift. However, at your insistence that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own, he thought of another reason — to brighten up your cozy bookshop with the vibrant colours of the orchids.

“Well, I thought of other reasons,” Hoseok answers vaguely, finishing the arrangement. And boy, did his heart soar when you accepted his gift afterwards.

“It’s so hard to believe…” Jungkook mumbles, focusing on his own task at hand.

Hoseok sighs. “She’s not what you guys seem to paint her to be. At least, not with me. Does anyone even try to approach her in the first place?”

Jungkook nods. “Jimin hyung did. You know how he is.” Silence falls for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I think she’s always grumpy when it’s Christmas season.”

“Why?”

Jungkook answers with a mere shrug. “No one knows. We just avoid her during Christmas.”

With furrowed brows, Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval of how people treated you. There must be a reason why you are acting this way. You weren’t a complete grouch with him, and your smile earlier proves that. If it takes hundreds of orchids to make you smile like that again — even when others say you are a grouch and your presence is unpleasant — he would gladly grow them all over again.

Sipping the gingerbread latte, you let out a satisfied hum at the burst of sweet taste on your tongue from the warm beverage. Definitely perfect for cold weather as you sit near the window, mindlessly staring out at the falling snow and the buzzing people beneath.

Hoseok has agreed to meet in the cafe. You are too stubborn to admit that you actually enjoyed his company these past few weeks. But, as soon as he texted you to meet in this cafe, you barely thought twice before agreeing.

Speaking of the devil, he sits across from you with a grin on his face. You snap out of your thoughts when your gaze zeroes in on the bouquet in front of you.

Irises.

“It’s for you.”

Blinking with furrowed brows, your voice comes out unsure. “For me…? But why?”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle, “I just think it suits you. Like those orchids.”

At his words, your heart beats faster. “I… I don’t know what to say,” you admit, gaze dropping to the bright yellow flowers, arranged prettily and pleasing to the eye. “But… Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Do you know what irises mean?”

You shake your head, taking the bouquet reluctantly.

“Hope and friendship,” Hoseok beams then raises his own steaming cup of coffee to you. “So, here’s to our friendship!”

Chuckling lightly, you lift your own cup.

“Right, I read the book,” Hoseok starts, earning a raised brow from you. “It’s a whole lot to digest even when it’s merely a children’s book. What makes you like it so much?”

You shrug, eyes averting from his briefly. “I just admire how the Grinch put so much effort to ‘steal’—” You quote with your fingers. “—Christmas. I mean he’s an entertaining character to read about.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “What makes him so?”

“He sticks to his plans and goes through with it. I admire his perseverance despite the hardships he has been through. And I feel the same way about Christmas as he does.”

“Do you not like Christmas?”

“Nope. Don’t like this season at all.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s…” Your eyes are downcast, gaze on your steaming cup of coffee. “It’s a bit overrated, in my personal opinion. This season seems to force people to be happy.”

“Huh…” Hoseok sips his coffee. “I never really thought about it in that way. But I can understand. Is there anything else that makes the book so special?” Curiosity swimming in his eyes. “You mentioned in your review that it’s comforting, but how so?”

Just how on earth can this man be so observant?

You purse your lips, pondering. “Well, it’s comforting to see how the Grinch manages to have a change of—” You falter before shaking your head. “He’s just a great character.”

Hoseok nods, agreeing with you.

Then you change the subject, asking him how he got into gardening and decided to open his flower shop. Conversation flows so easily between the two of you that time flies so quickly.

When you step out of the cafe building with Hoseok, you couldn’t stop smiling as you hold on to the bouquet he gifted in hand. You walk back together, just enjoying each other’s presence. That is until you come across the carolling choir who takes notice of you, or actually, of Hoseok.

“Hobi!” One of them calls out, breaking from the group. Her puppy-like excitement exudes out of her in waves as she draws closer. And then you recognise her as the chipper chatterbox whom you never bother to learn the name of.

Hoseok greets her, “It’s good to see you.”

Then she glances at you, more specifically the bouquet of irises in your hands. “You both went on a date?”

You snort, earning a surprised glance from Hoseok and the girl. “We just got coffee, and Hoseok is nice enough to bring me these lovely flowers as a gift. But, I don’t think it’s any of your business, right?” Lifting a brow, you spare her a questioning stare — recognising that familiar face — as she fails to come up with an answer. “And shouldn’t you get back to your singing activities spreading the Christmas spirit in this public area?” Sarcasm dripping your tone.

Her gaze narrows at you as a flash of recognition crosses her. “Aren’t you the one who sent us away from our first location?”

You nod blatantly. “You were singing in front of my shop. You were disturbing.”

“That was so rude—”

“I did warn you and your group before,” You quip. “Or would you rather I call the police next time?”

Hoseok gapes at your exchange with Chatterbox seemingly at a loss. Lucky for you — well, Chatterbox actually — the tense conversation ceases as another choir member approaches you, this time a lovely-looking elder lady. “Oh, Y/N!”

You blink, expecting her to recognise Hoseok instead since the boy is a social butterfly and probably know half of the townspeople already. “Y-You know me?” Her delicate features are somewhat familiar.

“Well, of course, I do! I volunteer in the or—”

And it clicks. “Oh!” You cut her off loudly. “Oh, nice to meet you!” Hoping the pleading look you send her can stop her from blurting other things besides pleasantries. Fortunately, she gets the message as she smiles knowingly at you before glancing at Hoseok who is utterly quiet as Chatterbox talks his ear off while he mindlessly nods.

“I should get back to my store,” you explain.

The lady smiles warmly, reducing her voice to a whisper, “Hope you come to visit us again this year.”

“I won’t miss it,” you reply with a smile of your own.

Her eyes light up at that. “And Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Have a good day, Miriam.”

And when you finally turn your attention to Hoseok, he’s already looking at you mouthing, You want to go?

You give him a brief nod. He smiles, bidding Chatterbox goodbye. But what nearly sends your heart into overdrive is that he strides to you and grabs your hand as if it’s the only natural thing to do.

“Slow down!” You huff as Hoseok turns briefly to give you a cheeky smile.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he teases, steps slowing down. Your hand goes limp, but instead of letting go of your hand, Hoseok interlaces his fingers with yours.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there myself,” Hoseok comments. “I thought my ears were going to fall off.”

Letting out a chuckle, you tease, “I thought you were enjoying her company.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “She was mean to you. I don’t like that.”

At his words, you stumble on your steps. If it isn’t for his fast reflexes, you would be face-planting to the ground. “Ah, t-thank you.”

He chuckles, “No problem.”

And you curse your own heart for beating faster at his smile.

“She’s not bad, Jimin.”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin huffs, wiping the table aggressively. “Until she decides to piss you off all the time.”

“What did she do to you?”

“Don’t even get me started.” Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance. “She literally said to take the choir crew away from her store, and Ellie—”

“Ellie…?” Confusion is written all over Hoseok’s face.

“The girl who likes you,” Jimin sighs.

“Who???”

Jimin makes a face. “For someone who flirts easily, you’re awfully dense to someone else’s feelings.”

Hoseok lets out an unamused snort. “I don’t flirt—”

“You gave Y/N flowers,” Jimin gives him a pointed look.

“How did—” Hoseok comes to a realisation. “—right, Jungkook.” he mumbles before he explains, “It was supposed to be an apology gift—”

“And then yesterday you empty your supply of iris flowers too to give her for no apparent reason—”

“The kid should really learn to shut his mouth.” Hoseok groans, his cheek heating in embarrassment.

“—if that isn’t called flirting—”

“Jimin, you flirt with everyone too.”

“That’s different, hyung. I charm people.”

Hoseok sighs. “We’re going off track here.”

“Okay, so I had told the choir members to sing a few blocks away from her store. But, she drove them away again!” Jimin slaps the table with the cloth.

Hoseok scrunches his eyebrows. “What do you mean a few blocks away? Y/N said she found them in front of the bookstore again.”

“That’s not what Ellie told me.”

“I still don’t know who Ellie is, but I think there’s a whole misunderstanding here.”

“No, hyung. There is no clear proof—”

“Did you ask the other choir members?” Hoseok asks before sighing. “I mean, shouldn’t there at least be a few other witnesses that can confirm where exactly they were singing?”

“The entire choir said so.”

“Did they actually tell you that? Or did only Ellie tell you that and you assumed it was the whole choir crew’s answer?”

Jimin purses his lips.

“Y/N is not the type to lie, Jimin. It’s not fair to her if you only consider one person’s point of view. And I saw how unhappy Y/N was that day. Don’t you think you should’ve confirmed it with other people first before jumping to conclusions?” Hoseok lets out another disgruntled sigh.

Jimin goes silent, seemingly pondering at Hoseok’s words.

“And I invited her here—” Hoseok points at the ground, indicating the bakery. “—that afternoon, since she likes your sugar doughnuts. And other things you bake. Thought it might cheer her up, but look how it went.” He raises his arms in exasperation.

“She tried it? She never even stepped into the bakery until she came along that time with you!”

“Well…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

“___, I’ll take more of these home today!” Hoseok lifts up his hand that’s holding the powdered doughnut.

Jimin’s girlfriend nods. “Anything else?”

“Oh! Your caramel cookies too, please.”

She nods again. “Coming right up.”

A few minutes later, Hoseok steps out of the bakery with a paper bag in hand. His nose is buried in his scarlet scarf, and he hums a soft tune while padding through the snow-covered sidewalk. As he gets closer to your dimly-lighted bookstore, his glove-covered hands start to grow clammy while his heart beats a tad faster.

“Y/N~” He calls out after the bell of the doorstep rings.

You scramble up to your feet from your slouching position behind the cashier register, wide-eyed. “H-Hoseok? What are you—” Your words falter when he lifts up the paper bag in his hold, grinning at your confused state.

“I brought some sweets.” He stops right in front of you, placing down the bag before opening it. “So… I got some powdered doughnuts…” He takes it out. “I hope you like them.”

“Well, yes. But—”

He puts the paper-wrapped doughnut on your hand. “Go ahead, try it.”

“I…”

“Or do you want me to feed you?” Hoseok teases, raising up the other doughnut towards your mouth. “Then here, ah—”

You take a step back, avoiding his reach before taking a bite out of your doughnut. He laughs at your pout while you chew, patiently waiting until you swallow it. “So...?”

Nodding slowly, you observe the bitten doughnut for a few moments then snap your gaze at him. “Thank you. This is really good.” You take another bite of the doughnut, fighting back the instinct to smile.

“Great! Now, try the caramel cookies!”

“Wait, but I—”

Hoseok plucks the doughnut from your hold, replacing it with a caramel cookie and urges you to try it and you comply.

“Where did you get this?” Eyes full of wonder as you stare at the cookie.

“Jimin’s bakery.”

“What? No way.”

Hoseok tilts his head in curiosity. “You’ve never tried his baked goods before? Even after months the bakery has opened?”

You shake your head. “Never had the chance. I assumed it’s nothing special. But now…”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“She said what?” Jimin gapes, not sure if he heard what Hoseok said was right.

Hoseok repeats, “She likes your sugar doughnuts and caramel cookies. She said they were ‘excellent delicacies’ when she tried them.” More precisely, you said, I suppose despite his absurd personality, he still makes excellent delicacies. But Hoseok knows better than to say that.

Jimin is downright speechless at your compliment.

“Anyways,” Hoseok clears his throat. “As I was saying, I frequently visit her, and on that day she wasn’t happy at all, Jimin. So, I didn’t visit her that morning to let her cool off and visit her during the afternoon.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ flashback ]

Hoseok gazes up from his phone when the streetlight turns green. Shoving the device into his coat’s pocket, he crosses the street. From the corner of his eye, your bookstore comes to his view, and a smile appears on his face. As he draws nearer, his steps grow lighter. That is until he peeks in from the window and notices a deep frown on your face. He falters, weighing his own thoughts on whether or not to approach you at this moment. And he decides against it and plans to visit you in the afternoon instead to let you cool off from, perhaps, an argument.

And off he goes, still passing by your store; still purposefully slowing down his steps to see you through the stained glass window for longer, to see if you’re okay. He’s surprised at the sight of you tracing your jukebox slowly, gazing at it fondly. It must have meant so much to you, he assumes. Smiling softly, Hoseok continues down the pathway to his flower shop.

It’s nearly midday when a familiar face from Jimin’s choir group visits him. She waves at him. “Hobi!”

“Welc—”

“So, glad to see you again!” The girl squeals as she reaches him at the counter.

“Hi…”

“How are you?”

“Good and uh, shouldn’t you be singing with your choir members?”

Her face falls slightly at his question before she scoffs, “It’s cancelled because someone was so rude. She just told us to scram. Like who does that? We’re spreading the Christmas spirit! Everyone should be happy, especially at this time of year!”

And Hoseok instantly has an inkling of who this someone is. “I don’t think we have the right to judge someone. Everyone has their own problems, after all.”

She seems genuinely shocked by Hoseok’s words. But Hoseok didn’t bother waiting for her response as he said, “If you aren’t planning to buy anything, I would appreciate it if you leave. There are other customers here. And I would listen to Y/N if I were you.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

“I’m sorry.”

You raise a brow at the unexpected guest who is standing right in front of you, eyeing him briefly before shifting your attention to the man beside him.

“What are you both doing here?” You ask. “More specifically, what are you doing here?” Your gaze snaps back to Jimin, who is huffing in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest — looking like he was just scolded by, you presume, the grinning man beside him. So you ask, “Hoseok, what is this?”

“I talked some sense into him,” he replies, elbowing Jimin not-so-subtly.

“I am here to apologise, Y/N. For the way I reacted in the bakery—”

Your stare narrows. “I thought we’re past that. And I told you it was my fault.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Jimin asks in a surprisingly polite manner. You assume he’s trying his best not to get frustrated further with you since, well, you always have that irritating presence during this time of the year and have the knack to run his patience thin. “I also want to apologise for assuming the worst of you.”

Now that catches you off-guard. Your silence spurs him on.

“I contacted the choir members and told them to not sing in front of your store. And I told them to sing at least a few blocks away. I should have confirmed their location with you instead of blindly trusting the people I barely interact with outside of choir activities—”

Not like we interact much either, you thought but hold back your tongue.

“—and it was my mistake for doing that. I only recently found out that they were really in front of your store—” He glances Hoseok, unamused. “—Hyung had contacted the choir people and had them confirm that they were singing in front of your store. Which is why—”

The sudden burst of your door opening startles the three of you.

“You brought her here?” Your expression clearly shows disdain at the sight of Chatterbox strutting in like she owns the place. And you wish nothing but to kick her out at this moment because she’s like an impending doom that’s about to befall your bookstore.

“No, we didn’t—” Hoseok looks flustered.

“I’m here to spread the Christmas spirit to Y/N!” Chatterbox claims with a few drinks in her hand. “Since she seems to hate our singing so much, I thought a few drinks will ease her up for Christmas!”

“Did she follow us?” Hoseok hisses to Jimin who looks just as flustered.

“I thought she should apologise to Y/N too.”

“Clearly, she has the wrong idea about this meeting,” Hoseok groans. However, just before Jimin can respond, a crash cuts him off.

It feels as if time is slowing down and your heart drops when she trips over one of the antique rugs and spills on…

“No!” You lurch forward — figure blocked by the counter you’re standing behind — towards the jukebox that’s drenched in eggnog, regarding it with widened eyes and trembling hands in the air.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Chatterbox whispers, standing up straight on her feet. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

You clench your fists as you snap your head towards her, eyes blazing. “Get out.”

“But the drinks—”

“I said, get out!” Rarely do you ever raise your voice, but you are already trembling in anger as no one made a single move. You grab Chatterbox, pulling her along with such strength that she struggled against your iron-like grip.

“I said I was sorry!”

“Well, ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” You seethe, shoving her out like a ragdoll. Jimin approaches you carefully and tries to appease you, but you shake your head. “Now, this is your fault.”

Hoseok looks downright devastated as he watches you. “Y/N…”

“Get out, leave me alone.”

There are no other words but warmth and pure joy that can describe the sight of children excitedly rushing towards you; they are all giggling and squealing.

“Uh, please don’t block the way,” you huff. Stopping momentarily, you lift a knee to support your hold on the heavy box briefly to prevent it from slipping down.

“Y/N,” Miriam greets you with a warm smile on her face. “So glad that you can make it.”

“Of course,” you reply, crouching to place the heavy box on the wooden floor of the living room. Taking off your gloves, you ask, “Where’s Helen?”

“She’s staying with her grandson for a couple of days; said something about a family Christmas reunion.”

“Ah…” You tear open the duct tape and take out the children’s books you packed a few weeks ago. “Well, then—”

“Y/N! Are you going to read us a Christmas story this time?” One of the children — Amy — asks with a big smile on her face.

“I shouldn’t… Maybe Helen can read to you once she’s back—” Words die on your throat at the expectant — hopeful — gazes of the children that have gathered in the warm living room. “Okay… Maybe one book won’t hurt—”

The children squeal happily.

“—so, you guys pick whichever book you want, and I’ll read it to you.” Then they rush to the opened cardboard box. You make yourself comfortable against the velvet cushions that’s spread on the rug-covered floor. While the children are busy discussing which book would be their pick, you fish out your phone from the pocket of your discarded coat only to realise that Helen had sent you a message that she won’t be in the orphanage tonight.

After replying to her with some reassurance — that you’d take over the story-telling position just for today — your fingers hover over Hoseok’s unread messages from yesterday night. Well, since the day you told him to get out of your bookstore in your fit of rage.

Hoseok constantly messaged you about many things — asking how you are doing, if you want to go out to get some coffee, or even just ramble about his day. You read all of them through the notifications from your phone — the ones that are not cut off by the message bubble — and your heart aches just a little more.

“This one!” Amy runs up to you, handing the book before taking the spot right next to you.

When you read the title, you falter. “Wait, are the others okay with this or are there any books you’d like me to read?” You look around at the children who are already in their respective seats surrounding you in a half-circle; they nod eagerly.

Letting out a sigh, you purse your lips for a brief moment. “Alright then—” You lift the book up; front cover facing the children. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas…”

Then you flip the book open and begin reading the story…

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

By the time you have finished reading the book, it’s nearly midnight; most of the children have fallen asleep with a content smile on their faces. You make it your mission to help Miriam tuck them into their beds since Helen is not here tonight.

“I really appreciate what you did today, Y/N.” Miriam follows you out of the building, stopping on the doorway.

“It’s not a problem, really.” You put on your gloves.

“But I really appreciate it, Y/N. And you know you will always be welcomed here.” Miriam reminds you.

You let out a sheepish chuckle. “Thanks, Miriam. Maybe I’ll come back and help around.”

She pulls you in for a hug. “The children love you. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled whenever you decide to come visit.”

After exchanging a few more words, you leave the orphanage and walk into the winter night. Gradually, your thoughts take you to Hoseok once more. You’d be lying if you don’t miss his presence and it has been just a few days since the incident. However, you just can’t find the right words to explain yourself, not when Christmas Eve is nearing.

Shaking your head, you keep your gaze low; eyes focusing on the snow-covered streets while the night grows darker with only street lanterns dimly lighting up the pathway. Just as you pass a particular house, loud laughter catches your attention, causing your legs to stop abruptly.

Through the bright window, you watch silently at what seems to be a Christmas gathering. You recognise some people who live in the same neighbourhood as you; even Jimin and Jungkook are there and… And Hoseok. Their smiles are so warm, and they seem to be enjoying themselves as they sit by the fireplace. The lively atmosphere inside the warm room is a definite contrast to the quietness of the night outside.

Letting out a sigh, you stop watching and continue on your way; once you arrive at your house, you mutter weakly, “I’m home…” After taking off your boots and gloves, you tug off your coat, brushing off the snow before you hang it on the coat hanger. Making your way towards the dark kitchen, you flip the light on and boil some water.

While waiting for it, your own mind seems to have an internal battle of its own. After that incident, you think it’s better to revert back to your old self who has no worries in being alone. However, after spending time with those children — it’s hard to admit, but you know you can’t be alone at this time of year. Spending time buried between pages of a book no longer distracts your thoughts, nor does sorting out books that are usually enough to distract you.

Opening the cabinet, you take out a box of your favourite tea, placing it on the counter. Looking back at the opened cabinet, you falter for a moment, staring at the unused mugs labelled ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’. With pursed lips, you quickly take your own mug and close the cabinet.

Rain drizzles down onto the asphalt path while the repeated sound of Hoseok’s footsteps crunching fills the empty air. He avoids the wet snow, treading carefully to not soak his boots further in this weather. Rain during winter is perhaps one of the things Hoseok considers unpleasant, but it reflects his current mood despite today being Christmas Eve.

Crossing the familiar street with an opened umbrella in hand, he lets out a sigh into the cold air, fog coming out with his exhale. Growing nearer to your dark bookstore, his heart grows heavier with each step. He stops momentarily and peeks inside your darkened bookstore, then his shoulders drop in disappointment.

Arriving at his store, he closes his umbrella before entering. Hoseok rubs the sole of his boots against the ‘welcome’ rug, shaking the umbrella to shed the remaining frozen droplets on the material.

Jungkook — already onto his task of assembling bouquets — spares a glance at the older man. “No luck?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Hoseok mutters a ‘no’, passing by the counter gate and into the employee changing room.

It’s been more than a week since anyone has seen you. There has always been warm light filtering out through the window of your bookstore. However, now, your bookstore is completely dark as if life itself has been snuffed out of it.

Tugging off his thick coat, Hoseok places it on the hanger then takes the usual apron, tying it around his waist.

Hoseok wonders what had happened; the expression on your face was unlike anything he had ever seen… And, he really wants to reach out, but you have seemingly disappeared without a trace. As he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he’s still deep in thought, that is until Jungkook gasps rather loudly.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?”

But his movements stop completely when he hears a familiar voice — the voice he has been dying to hear again. In seconds, he barrels out of the room slamming the door albeit too loudly, startling Jungkook and…

“Y/N…” He stands in shock, still processing that you’re here.

“Hey,” you say nonchalantly, “I’d like a bouquet of chrysanthemums and dahlias, please.”

The three of you lapse into silence for a few moments until Jungkook mutters, “I’ll… Work on them... Yeah...” Jungkook snaps his finger while pursing his lips. “I’ll do just that…” Jungkook gets to work immediately, leaving you both near the main counter as he scuffles around the shop where the chrysanthemum and dahlias are.

Your gaze wanders along the neatly placed shelves on your side, and the various colourful flowers that’s set in silver-coloured buckets. It’s your first time visiting his store, and it is unexpected, alright. After your “disappearance”, you’re now here as if nothing has happened.

“I texted you…” Hoseok mumbles, earning your attention on him. “I called you too; visited your store a few times. What happened?”

“I needed time to get myself together,” you answer, fiddling with the button of your black coat.

“Why didn’t you call or at least let me know you’re okay? You had me really worried.”

“Because it’s none of your business.” You speak monotonously, but it still manages to strike at his heart.

Hoseok clenches his fists. “Right… My friend’s business is none of my concern.”

You exhale at that but still keep your mouth shut. Even as Jungkook timidly passes by you with the wrapped bouquet. Right after you pay for the flowers, you rush out.

Hoseok releases a breath that he did not even know he was holding. And he can feel his heart squeezing in pain.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

In silence, standing in front of the two tombstones — with an umbrella on one hand — you lay the bouquet between them. One shoulder is drenched from the rain, but you don't find it in yourself to care; not at this moment when all you can think about are your parents and that tragic day.

Countless of tears you have shed on the same day, each year; though it has been half a decade since then. But your heart still lays heavy in your chest, borderline suffocating in the middle of the quiet cemetery. And it feels as if it just happened recently.

Tearing your gaze away from the tombstone, you look up to the cloudy sky and blink rapidly — adamant about not letting any tears fall this year. With a deep breath, you look back down and leave.

The cold isn’t the worst when you walk back. Usually, you would even cry on the way home thinking about your parents. But this time, your mind persistently drifts to the disappointment on Hoseok’s face from earlier, unable to forget as if it is burned into your mind.

Biting your trembling lower lip, your steps grow faster to your bookstore. You promised Miriam you would come to visit the orphanage and bring more books for the children.

Arriving at the front door, you slot in the key and are about to unlock the door when you freeze momentarily, body seizing as your brows furrow. Taking a slow deep breath, you open the door and darkness greets you as usual. Closing the door behind you, the sound of your boots clicking on the wooden floor fills the air as you make a beeline towards the storage. Flicking the light on, your eyes search for the packed box on the corner, lifting it up in your arms once you find it before turning the lights off.

Walking between the shelves towards the front door, the jukebox appears in your sight. As everything that happened comes rushing back, you move towards it — dropping the box on the floor, nearly tripping over it — and your eyes looking around it frantically. “It should work now…” You mumble to yourself, at the now-cleaned jukebox and after letting it dry for days. You click the usual button, and wait…

And wait…

And…

“No…” Hands trembling, you make an attempt and press the button once more, but it just won’t turn on. “Please, please, please…” You begin to plead, tears welling up in your eyes and again you press the on button. This is the last resort, after all. You’ve called all the possible service stores that fix instruments and jukeboxes, but they all had the same response, ‘We’re sorry, this model is too old.’

“I’m sorry…” You whimper, knees giving out as a sob escapes your lips. “I’m sorry…”

The last piece of memory of your parents ceases. And your heart has never felt so cold on the night of Christmas Eve.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

When the fiftieth sigh escapes Hoseok’s lips, Jungkook spares him an empathetic glance as he does his task. “You should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to.”

“Huh… That sounds so unlike you,” Jungkook muses as he cleans up the counter. “And you’ve been brooding all day.”

“I do not brood.”

“Tell that to the five customers the usual all-sunshine-and-rainbow florist has scared away today,” Jungkook remarks and stops cleaning to face Hoseok. “You should talk to her, Hyung. It hasn’t stopped you before. What changed?”

“I… I don’t...” Hoseok falters, searching for an answer. “She’s my friend, I…”

“You…?” Jungkook nods with a know-it-all look, urging the older one to continue.

Hoseok narrows his stare at the younger one. “You’re mocking me.”

“Nope,” Jungkook says, emphasising the ‘p’ with a pop. “I mean, you have always been forward with your feelings, and I really admire that. Unlike, you know, Jimin—” He pauses. “—please don’t tell him that, but yeah, what’s stopping you now?”

“I just—” Hoseok releases a deep sigh. “—I don’t want to lose her, not after everything. And she’s the type of person who really values her space. I can’t just barge in and demand to make everything alright. She’ll come around, and she’ll show it when she’s ready.”

Jungkook purses his lips, seemingly in deep thought.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” Hoseok asks in frustration.

“I think I know why…” Jungkook mutters.

“Why Y/N is acting the way she did?”

“No, not exactly,” Jungkook answers. “But on why she hates Jimin’s guts, ‘cuz you know, he tends to not read the situation he’s in and go all in without thinking of the consequences—”

Hoseok makes an attempt to cut Jungkook off. However, Jungkook raises his hand to stop Hoseok as he continues, “—but you—” Jungkook gives Hoseok a pointed look. “— you tend to read the situation you’re in and that’s a good thing. So, I suggest, instead of moping around, you can just go to her and see how she is doing? See if she wants to talk and if she does, you talk, and if not, then you can leave.”

Blinking, those words sink into Hoseok’s mind. “That’s actually… A great idea…”

“Yeah, wonder why no one has thought about it, but ends up scaring away customers instead,” Jungkook retorts and clears his throat at the glare Hoseok sends his way. “Which, you know, is okay since we’re humans, after all, right? We make mistakes. And the only thing we can do is try to make up for it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes at that before chuckling. “You’re right, JK.”

“I know I— I mean, am I?”

Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Right, okay. So, I’ll go check on Y/N. And since it’s already closing hours—” He glances at the wall clock while untying his apron. “—you can just close up today.”

“What?”

But Hoseok ignores him and runs straight into the changing room to grab his coat. Once he goes out, he tosses the key to Jungkook. “I’m entrusting you with it.”

“Wait, but—”

“See you tomorrow!”

And Hoseok rushes out of his store, leaving a baffled Jungkook behind.

Hoseok scores a new record in the number of minutes it takes for him to reach your bookstore. However, his shoulder droops as the last bit of his hope vanishes at the sight of the dark place.

So, you had left. Or still not coming in.

He steps closer to the window, futilely peeking inside. After a few moments, he sighs in disappointment, putting his hands inside the pocket of his long plaid coat. Just as he’s about to leave, he stops — furrowing his brows when…

Is that a whimper?

Curiously, he goes near the door once more and makes an attempt to turn the knob and it opens. Eyes widening, he enters quickly into the darkness. And there he can finally (barely) see your hunched figure on the floor beside your antique jukebox, burying your face as your arms are wrapped around your knees… Crying?

“Y/N?” He calls out in hesitance, taking a few steps closer. You look at him and Hoseok braces for you to tell him to get out.

But instead, all you can mumble is his name. “Hoseok…”

“Hey…” Slowly, Hoseok crouches on one knee to meet your gaze. “I’m here.”

You merely stare at him, unmoving.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N,” he says, softly. “I’m here.”

Throat bobbing, more tears flow down across your cheeks. Hoseok opens his arms. “Come here.”

One moment you are still unmoving, and the next you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Hoseok leans back — both knees on the floor now — one hand gently pats your head while the other arm keeps you close to him.

“Let it all out. I’m here now,” He whispers, letting your face rest against the crook of his neck. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

[ flashback ]

It should have been a happy time for Hoseok as he gathers with all the people he cares about. Well, not all of them when you have not even read his texts. He scrolls through his phone mindlessly, staring at the texts he had sent over the past few days.

Hoseok [18/12]: Hey… how’re you feeling? I brought some sugar doughnuts today but you weren’t working today :( i hope everything’s well

Hoseok [20/12]: Y/N, i’m really sorry about what happened. Please let me know if you need anything

Hoseok [21/12]: you know i hate it when it rains so hard during the winter, i swear i came into my shop with icicles hanging on my face and jungkook had to say that i looked like that squirrel from ice age 😭 anyway, i met a tough customer today… I spent three hours waiting for them to choose which flowers they’d like for their bouquet. Even jungkook was close to combusting as well. it was torture 😢

Hoseok [22/12]: Hey, so we’re having a christmas celebration tomorrow, would you like to come? It’ll be fun!

Hoseok [23/12]: hey, Y/N! I was wondering if you’re going to make it to the celebration?

But that last text was hours ago and you had remained unresponsive. Hoseok sighs harshly and his emotions overwhelm him. And he lets himself think if you’re worth all the trouble and turmoil he’s facing.

“Something on your mind, dear?” His grandmother asks, placing one comforting hand on his knee. “I know that look on your face all too well. Your father used to have that look whenever he’s in deep thought. So, let me guess, is it a girl?”

Hoseok blinks a few times, flustered at his grandmother’s guess. “Yes, but well, no? Not really?”

“Who is it? I never heard any news about your love life. And now, your dear grandmother is absolutely curious,” she says, laughing with mirth lighting up her crinkled eyes.

Hoseok smiles softly at his grandmother before he relents and tells her all about you. At the mention of your name, he swears his grandmother just smiles a tad wider.

“It’s about time she finds someone,” she mutters to herself but Hoseok still hears it anyway.

“You know Y/N, Grandma?”

She nods. “Y/N used to live in the orphanage a few years ago… Poor thing.”

Hoseok gapes at that. “I… Never knew.” His heart twisting painfully in guilt and worry. “I’ve always assumed she had a really bad past since she never talks about it.”

“Definitely traumatising for someone so young to face heavy losses.” His grandma explains. “She dealt with most of it on her own, and… She may come across as cold, but she isn’t cruel, she’s just closed off,” Helen says softly. “But I guess you know that already?”

Hoseok nods.

“So, don’t give up on her. I think right now, she needs someone more than ever. She has had no one to lean on for so long.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ present time ]

You stare silently at the crackling flames with a blanket wrapped around your frame and for some time your mind stays quiet after you have emptied out your pent-up emotions. Hoseok busies himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, and brings out two mugs of hot chocolate.

After your cry fest in the bookstore, Hoseok has taken you to his place for some hot chocolate he received from his grandmother, who had insisted that he should let you try it even when you know nothing of her. You rejected the offer at first, not wanting to bother him more after your breakdown. But Hoseok being Hoseok, from the time you have gotten to know him, you’ve learned that he can be very persuasive and persistent. And now, here you are, where he claims is his humble abode.

One thing for sure, this place screams Hoseok. It’s definitely more to the cozy side despite some unique furniture you spot decorating the place.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking a mug from his extended hand as he takes a seat beside you on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better...” You take a sip of the hot chocolate, sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. And you resist the urge to hum in delight.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Hoseok shifts his gaze from the flames to you.

“Why did you help me?” You blurt out. “I mean, you didn’t have to… Like just now, and after the way I treated you, usually people would... Leave.”

Hoseok ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s because they don’t know you like I do.”

“But we just met each other not too long ago.”

“And that’s enough for me to get to know you, at least some part of you. And as I’ve mentioned before, I would really like to get to know you even better.”

“I don’t think you really do…” You mumble, staring into the half-finished hot chocolate.

Hoseok snorts at that. “You’re someone who really values her space and if someone dares to cross that line you’ll give them hell for it.”

His facial expression softens further as he continues, “And you’re also someone who knows how to stand up for herself, not needing anyone to defend you. You don’t care what others think of you because you already know your own worth.”

You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Do you need me to continue? Because I still have more and—”

“Hoseok… I’m not— I don’t think I’m a nice person to be around...” you admit.

“That is the most ridiculous sentence I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Hoseok scoffs. “So you’re telling me someone forced you to donate children books to the orphanage and read to those children?” He recalls the pictures his grandmother showed him the other day — of you reading to the children and having a pleasant time with them.

Blinking, you gape at him. “H-How did—”

“My grandma told me.” Hoseok is now looking at you, unamused. You shoot him a confused look as he explains further, “Helen is my grandmother. And I may not know what you have gone through, Y/N. But I told you I’m here and you don’t have to face things on your own now.”

You look away from his gaze, unable to keep looking into his intense stare any longer.

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

You stiffen at his question as it becomes silent between the two of you besides the crackling sound of flames. Hoseok sighs after a few moments, placing his hand on your arm briefly as if to say ‘it’s alright’ then standing up from the couch.

Just as he’s about to step into the kitchen, you blurt out, “I loathe Christmas.” And his steps falter, he turns slightly to look at you fiddling with the mug nervously. “I hate anything that has to do with Christmas because like I once told you, this season seems to force people to be happy. It doesn’t care whether or not you’re hurting inside, no consideration of how people truly feel in the heart. And I gradually find it pointless and fake.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “I… I lost my parents on Christmas Eve.” And the image of the car flipping upside down still vivid in your mind and you can hear the crash as clear. “I don’t deserve to feel happy, not when I should’ve gone with them at the incident. I-I should have gone with them. It's n-not fair that they’re gone and I’m here and alone and if I’m happy while they’re not here—” you blabber, hands shaking rapidly. “It’s not fair and now, I’ve failed them, I lost them— Their jukebox is broken and I can’t do anything about it,” you whimper. “Just like that day.”

“Y/N…” And you didn’t realise Hoseok is already in front of you, crouching. He lays his hand gently on yours after taking your mug, placing it on the coffee table. “Look at me,” he stares up into your eyes, gaze so warm and gentle that you might even break down again. It’s been a long time since someone looked at you that way. “You can’t take responsibility over the things that are out of your control.”

“And what you had gone through is unimaginable, but do you think you’ve punished yourself enough, even though it’s not your fault? You stopped letting yourself enjoy life itself and — correct me if I’m wrong — your parents wouldn’t want that for you,” Hoseok says. “Would they want you to be trapped in your past?”

You let his words sink in.

“And despite your jukebox not working anymore, that doesn’t mean that your parents are gone.” Hoseok grips your forearm, lifting your right hand to place it on top of your heart. “They live in you. You’re their daughter after all. The jukebox only serves as a memory of them, but surely, you have other memories of them.”

After all this time, you realised that’s what you needed to hear — you haven’t failed your parents, despite everything.

“And looking at how you’ve grown into this amazing woman that I have the privilege to get to know, I’m definitely sure your parents are proud of you.”

Face crumpling, your palm covers your eyes as another sob escapes your throat.

Sitting again next to you, Hoseok coos and gathers you in his arms. “Cry all you want, I’m here, love. I’m here…”

And you cried again, the hardest you’ve done in a long time.

Once you have calmed down, you murmur, “They used to dance around the house a lot...” Tear-stained cheek resting against his chest as you find yourself curled up on his lap. “Hanging socks and filling them with candies, claiming that they’re for the elves that visit late at night.”

Hoseok leans against the throw pillows, quietly listening as you tell stories of how your parents used to love the winter season. His warmth comforts you and your still-aching heart.

That night you fell asleep in his arms; the last bit of your emotions all used up, but your heart definitely feels lighter than the past years.

Knocking on the wooden door, you clear your throat, hearing scurrying footsteps before the door opens.

“Y/N!” Miriam exclaims. “I was so worried, you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Sorry, something came up yesterday and I didn’t realise how late it was when I was done. But I bring another couple of books?” You lift up the box in your hands in emphasis.

Miriam lights up at that. “Well, come on in. The children will be so happy. They are excited to—”

“Oof—!” The loud thump behind you causes you to turn to see Hoseok huffing, catching his breath — one hand on his knee as he sits on the stairs — another box on top of the stoop. “I didn’t realise how much book you’ve packed, Y/N.”

Snorting, you place the box you’re holding on your left hip and extend your right hand to him, instinctively, to help him up. “C’mon, the children are inside and we should help to unpack the boxes first.” He takes your hand and pulls himself up, nearly stumbling and having his face close to yours.

As if his piercing gaze locks you in a trance, you stare back until he murmurs, “Well, someone is looking beautiful today.”

Spluttering, you let go of his hand, face burning. “Let’s go.”

Hoseok laughs at your embarrassment before he lifts up the box on the floor and makes his way inside, passing by Miriam who’s waiting by the door.

When you step inside, Miriam whispers, “Is he—?” Her tone lace with curiosity as a teasing smile appears on her lips.

“Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend—” You say too quickly, flustered.

“Well, I meant to ask if he is Helen’s grandson, but I see.” Miriam fails to stifle a big smile now. “You two would look really good together.”

You curse yourself, walking faster as Miriam laughs behind you, closing the door. When you reach the living room, the children are already waiting and once you step into their view, they squeal happily.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Amy waves to you giddily. “Hobi says you brought more books for us!”

“H-Hobi…?” You blink. Snapping your gaze towards said man who is already looking at you intently and you avert your gaze once more to the grinning children. “Umm, yeah. I do.” You sit beside Hoseok, tearing the tape off the boxes you two brought in.

This time you brought in colouring books and other story books.

“Can Hobi read to us today?” One of the children asks.

You shift your gaze to his surprised face, a teasing smile appears on your face. “Yeah, Hobi, you should read to them today.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze at you before leaning close to whisper, “You should call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” Then he turns to the children, smiling. “Alright, I’ll read for today. And which book do you want to read?”

“Which one is your favourite, Hobi?” Another kid — Ian — asks, curiously looking through the books.

“Well…” Hoseok scans through the titles of the stacked books. Your eyes widen at his pick. “This one!” He lifts up the How the Grinch Stole Christmas book.

“Wait— I read that to them already,” you try to stop the children’s interested looks.

“He can read it to us again!” Amy says giddily. “I think it’s a really nice story!”

“But there are other better books to read,” you offer. “Like…” You look through the books you brought. “This! The Night Before Christmas!” you read the title aloud.

“We can read that later,” Quin whines. “We want to hear Hobi read the book!”

Unbelievable. How the hell can these children choose him over you already?

As if he can read your mind, Hoseok shoots you a smug look and you pout like a petulant child. “Fine, I’m gonna go to the kitchen to help Miriam,” you huff, standing up and stomp out.

Hoseok watches your figure disappear into the kitchen before he says, “She’s so cute, isn’t she?”

Amy nods, grinning. “She’s grown up, but she’s still like us! That’s why playing with Y/N is so fun!”

“Right…” He gives a brief soft smile at Amy before he clears throat. “So let’s begin…”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“You’re not reading to the children?” Miriam asks when you appear in the kitchen.

“No, Hoseok’s handling that.” You take a fresh apron and tie it around your waist. “So… I’ll help out with the cookies.”

“Alright then,” Miriam chuckles, handing you the mixing bowl and mixer. “You can continue mixing the ingredients until everything’s smooth and I’ll take out the cookies I baked earlier.”

You flip the switch of the mixer on and continue to mix the ingredients. When the texture of the dough is smooth, you place the mixture into small scoops on the baking tray and that’s when you overheard Hoseok’s voice.

“What can you learn from the Grinch’s story?”

“Oh! Oh!” One of the kids exclaims. “That Christmas isn’t all about gifts!”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agrees. “And also, despite the Grinch being mean at first, even unkind, that doesn’t mean that they are truly that way at heart.”

Your movements falter at his words.

“There is always a reason behind their actions,” Hoseok points out. “So, it’s always best to learn about them first before assuming things.”

“You sound like you know the Grinch well.” Amy tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you happen to know the Grinch, Hobi?”

“Well, I don’t know the Grinch personally,” he muses. “But I do know someone who is very similar to him. Maybe that’s why I grew fond of the Grinch.”

Did Hoseok just compare you to the Grinch?

You scoff internally. Quickly, you finish scooping the rest of the cookie dough onto the tray before placing it in the oven after Miriam takes out the first batch of cookies and then retrieving a serving tray from one of the cabinets.

“Oh!” Amy raises her hand enthusiastically. “I know! I know!”

“Yes, Amy?”

“An act of kindness towards someone can change them!”

Hoseok blinks. “That… Is right.”

“That’s right.” You walk into the living room with glasses full of milk for the children. “An act of kindness can change a person’s life.” Placing the tray on the coffee table, you look at the children one by one. “So, it’s important to be kind to others.”

As if on cue, Miriam brought out the freshly-baked cookies. And the children flock around her to get a piece. She chastises them and sets the cookies on the table alongside the glasses of milk.

You spent the entire Christmas day in the orphanage, helping out and spending time with the children and Hoseok. You even meet Helen who never stops gushing once she finds the two of you visiting the orphanage.

When it’s already late at night, you and Hoseok bid the children farewell with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart. Hoseok walks you home afterwards, and silence falls between you — both comforting and soothing. Arriving in front of your doorsteps, you turn to him who is already staring at you with his bright eyes.

“Thank you for today, Hoseok—” You stop at his unamused look. “What?”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Hobi’ from now on.” He steps closer to you. You step back. “Hearing you saying ‘Hoseok’ all the time makes it sound so formal between us.”

“Alright—” You place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away. “—Hobi, got it.”

“That’s better.” He chuckles at your antics before he steps back, stance growing uneasy. “And, uh, I forgot to tell you that there’s a winter market near the town hall. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?”

You nod without any hesitance.

“But Jimin will be there too.” And he adds quickly, “With his girlfriend. So, he won’t bother us and—”

“I’ll go.” You pause for a moment. “There’s something I need to resolve with him too.”

A gentle smile appears on Hoseok’s face at that. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Definitely.”

He grins before tugging you in for a hug to which you reciprocate as if it’s second nature. And you both stay like that for a while until Hoseok mumbles suddenly, “I think I left something in your bookstore when we went to pick up the books earlier.”

You laugh. “Well then, I can go with—”

“Oh no, that's okay!” He says quickly. “I’ll go there myself, if you’re okay with lending me your key?”

“Oh, sure.” You take the keys out of your pocket. “Don’t lose it, yeah?” You chuckle, handing him the keys.

He nods. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s another cold morning. Jungkook stifles a yawn as he walks along his usual route to Hoseok’s flower shop. Unable to contain his yawn any longer, he covers his face with his hand before he freezes — mid-yawn — when he sees you standing in front of the shop.

Quickly shutting his mouth, he calls out, “Y/N?”

Your gaze snaps to him from your phone. “Jungkook, hi!”

Uh-oh. Jungkook wonders if Hoseok has screwed up — since the man himself isn’t here — and now you’re seeking help from him to perhaps find ways to get rid of his hyung.

“Hey… May I ask what you’re doing here?” He checks his watch briefly. “So early…?”

“Hi, yeah, so I need a bouquet…” You fidget nervously.

“Oh?” Jungkook focuses on unlocking the glass door. “May I know what you’re looking for?”

“Hydrangeas and irises...”

He opens the door and motion for you to enter before following suit. “I’ll put my things in the back and I’ll wrap your bouquet.”

You mutter an ‘okay’ as he quickly changes into his uniform. Jungkook changes in record time as he has heard of stories of you being impatient, especially during the winter season. And well, someone has never intimidated him so much even though he is taller than you.

“Okay, so, hydrangeas and irises,” Jungkook mutters once he’s out of the changing room. He makes a quick dash towards the respective flower buckets and brings it back to the counter.

“Oh… They’re pretty,” you comment, eyeing the flowers curiously. But somehow Jungkook feels like you are scrutinizing him, ready to nitpick at him should you find any mistake or flaw.

“Why are your hands shaking?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands—” you point out. “—are shaking. Don’t you do this every day?”

“Not every day,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to stop his hands from shaking. “Anyways—” He clears his throat, changing the subject. “Who’s the special one?”

You blink. “Uh…”

Another uh-oh. This will not end well. Hyung is going to throw a major fit if he finds out about this.

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.” Jungkook arranges the flower stems together. “No one is going to hear about this. I promise you. I know you really value your privacy.” You shoot him a confused look while he rambles. Not long after, he lifts up the bouquet. “Is... This okay?”

“Do you have yellow irises?”

“Uh, you want the yellow one?” He makes a face.

“What is it?”

“It’s going to be ugly,” he blurts out before he remembers who he's talking to. “I-I mean if you want them then I’ll search for the yellow—”

“No! That's okay!” Your hands flay to stop him from finding more irises. “It’s fine, really. I trust your opinion. You’re the expert.”

Jungkook blinks, clearly caught off-guard by your words. “Oh… I— Thank you.”

You nod, giving him a smile that is, dare he say, pretty.

“Okay,” He relaxes, bunny-smile appearing on his face. “I’ll finish this up quick.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook finally manages to finish the bouquet and you thank him incessantly to which he responds with a flustered ‘No problem, just doing my job…’

Rushing out of the store, you check your phone for Hobi’s text which says that he’s on the way to the market and would meet you there. With your heart fluttering, you put your phone back into your pocket after sending him a ‘see u too, hobi :)’.

Arriving in the market twenty minutes later, you spot him standing near the entrance, waving at you enthusiastically.

“Hey,” he starts before gaze dropping on the bouquet you extend to him. “Wha—”

You mumble, “These are for you...”

His eyes grow wide. “I… Thank you.” He breathes out. “Wow, this is so unexpected. I don’t know what to say.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle.

“So…” He observes the bouquet. “You bought these flowers from my shop and you’re giving them to me.”

At his words, you blink as realisation dawns on you. “Uh, oh right I—” You stammer, flustered.

And Hoseok laughs at your cuteness. “Aww, that’s okay. I’m just joking. But, thank you. It’s really meaningful.”

“You know the meaning of the flowers?”

He grabs your hand, tugging you along into the market. “Of course. Hydrangeas means—”

“—grateful for being understood.”

“Thank you for being understanding.”

You both say simultaneously.

He stops, turning to you as his hand tightens on yours.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” You meet his gaze. “And, I really appreciate what you did for me these past few days — months — actually. I really can’t thank you enough.”

A soft smile decorates his lips. And before the both of you are able to say anything else, a familiar voice calls out Hoseok’s name. Turning your gaze to Jimin and his girlfriend, you greet them with a small ‘hello’ and a smile. As they walk closer, Jimin has a wary look on his face while his girlfriend responds to you with a smile of her own.

“Jimin…” You earn his attention. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods as his girlfriend and Hoseok gives both of you space.

“Look. About the other day, I know you had no intention of bringing Chatterbox to my store to mess things up. I just want to apologise, you just wanted to set things right and I blamed you for her actions which you have no absolute control over.”

“No, Y/N. I could have explained better that we’re going to just apologise — no drinking and no singing—”

“And it’s in the past,” you cut him off. “And that’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m really sorry for not trusting you,” Jimin sighs. “I thought they had really sung a few blocks away, but you still did not like it and drove them away.”

You shake your head. “Even though I hate their carolling so much, I would have tolerated it if they were singing a few blocks away. But they still sang in front of my store and that angers me.”

“I wouldn’t take your words lightly, Y/N.”

“I sure hope not,” you snort, but then a grin appears on your face. A genuine smile appears on Jimin’s face in return as he extends his hand. And you shake it with yours, finally making up.

Returning to Hoseok’s side, you both wander around the market and you take in the festivity of it all.

“Oh! Look at those skewers!” Hoseok points out in excitement. “Wanna go try it?”

You nod at him. “I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ve never been to any of the winter markets.”

“Alright,” he answers giddily, taking your arm to loop around his own. “Don’t want you to get lost now.” Chuckling at that, he leads you towards the first food stall of the day.

People are smiling, laughing, and enjoying themselves and for once it does not bring as much bitterness as before. It’s been quite some time since you are able to feel this way without holding back. But you’re certain you’ll move on, little by little.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“That was really fun,” you laugh, walking back to your bookstore with Hoseok still glued on your side. Despite not being in a crowded place any longer, he refuses to let go of you.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he muses. “We should do this more often.”

“Hanging out in markets, trying out various kinds of food together?”

“Well, if you consider it a date,” Hoseok says as you reach your store.

“Are you asking me out, Jung Hoseok?” You fish out the keys, unlocking the door.

“You remember my whole name?” He teases.

You shoot him a playful glare, stepping inside. “I mean, I have a sharp memory when it comes to relevant people in my—” You stop, gaping at the sudden colourful hues of orchids and dahlias decorating the broken jukebox. “I… What—”

Hoseok watches you stride towards the jukebox, observing the flowers intently with your glassy gaze while he takes off his gloves. At that moment, you seem like a child finding a surprise gift from Santa. And if Hoseok could, he would like to keep this moment into his memory forever.

When you finally turn to him, you ask, “D-Did you do this?”

He nods. “It’s fake though, since we don’t want them to wilt and—” You lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as he nearly drops the bouquet you had given him earlier. Setting it down on the cashier counter, he wraps his arms around you as well in a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“It’s still beautiful, Hobi…” you murmur, breathing in his scent. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I hope it would bring comfort to you, Y/N…”

Pulling away — still in his arms — you meet his gaze and blurt out, “Gosh, I swear I think I can kiss you right now.” The pair of you stiffen as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I-I mean—”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he says, cupping your cheek. Leaning down to close the distance between you. You scan through his eyes for any signs of hesitance and when you find none, you close the remaining distance, meeting his lips with yours.

Everything happens so fast, but Hoseok is the only clarity at this moment as his hand on your waist moves up to cup your other cheek to deepen the kiss.

“Hobi...” You breathe out as he backs you against one of your shelves. “Hoseok—”

“Y/N...” he murmurs, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb as he looks into your eyes, gaze half-lidded. “Do you know what blue irises mean?”

You blink, still processing his question. “Hope… And faith?”

He chuckles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It also means deep feelings when gifted to someone.”

Gaping, you stare up at his face.

“Is that how you feel? Towards me?”

You nod slowly.

He kisses your forehead softly and your eyes flutter shut. Interlacing your fingers together, he leans his forehead on yours while he whispers, “I feel the same way. I have feelings for you, Y/N.” He then mumbles, “I really, really like you, Y/N.”

“I really, really like you too, Hobi.” You meet his lips again. He smiles into the kiss.

When you both pull away to catch your breaths, you bury your face on the crook of his neck. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

And he kisses your temple, holding you tighter in his arms.

After punishing yourself over the loss of your parents, you had never given yourself a chance to move on. But you have known for quite some time that some part of you longed for a change. That is why you admire the Grinch who has a change of heart towards Christmas. Now with Hoseok by your side, you realise that you can move on as he encourages you to finally take a step forward. And for once you look hopefully to a happier future.

author’s note: honestly, i nearly turned this into a drabble series, but well, my writings are either too long or too short theres no in between so, oneshot it is sjdksjkfsd i hope you guys enjoyed it and as always, feedbacks are always appreciated !! if you’re interested in jimin’s story, you can find it here! thank you for reading 💕

405 notes · View notes

cotccotc · 4 years ago

Text

❄️ icicles ┆ yjn

genre/s: jeongin x gn reader, fluff, best friends/idiot crushes au (lol), boarding school au

wc: 2.3k

warning/s: swearing, reader is carried on jeongin’s back, one mention of death (as a joke, not within the context of the plot)

a/n: as always, i hope y’all like this !! winter’s on it’s way out where i live, but i loved the premise of this too much to discard the idea :)) also if it isn’t well edited, well...... Oops :D

“i bet you can’t reach it,” he whispers. he points to the icicle hovering above you, hanging down from the awning outside of the library. it’s on the thicker side, connected to a few others. and though it’s long, he’s correct in assuming it’s too high up for you to reach without jumping up to it. and probably while jumping as well. but you can’t let him off so easily.

“how much?” you ask, voice hushed as well.

“how much what?”

“how much are you gonna bet?”

he chuckles.

it’s nearing midnight. you’re not supposed to be out this late, let alone with a friend. and he isn’t just any friend, either. but he wouldn’t know that. he’s too oblivious. always has been. it’s been four years and he still hasn’t an inkling of how you truly feel about him, nor does he presumably feel the same way.

well… actually...

eh. that can wait. on with the scene.

“if you can do it,” he says, a cocky smile on his face. “i’ll use my card to buy all of your meals tomorrow.” he pauses. “deal?”

you cross your arms. “hm…”

“and…” he looks around for inspiration. then, finally, he adds, “and i’ll give you a piggyback ride back to your dorm.”

there’s a lot at stake. the crispness of the air accentuates the goosebumps forming on your skin at the prospect of being carried by him once again. piggyback rides are one of your favorite activities with jeongin, as well as your preferred mode of general transportation. maybe it’s because you’re (rightfully) lazy and nights like these tend to take a toll on your tired feet. maybe it’s because he only rarely allows it and would never admit he loves it as much as you do. or maybe it’s because the closeness makes you giddy, the contact makes you warm, and the prospect of taunting him is far too thrilling to pass up...

but that icicle is just so goddamn high.

“deal,” you say, stifling your excitement. you stretch your hand out for him to shake, and he obliges. as you ready yourself for the jump of a lifetime, he surveys the area for signs of authority. it’s not the first time you’ve snuck out together like this. you’ve only ever gotten caught once. sophomore year. they let you both off with a warning… but it’s clear to see how effective the warning was.

with a slight running start, you make your first attempt. not even close. i personally applaud you for trying, but honestly, it was a little hard to watch. yet, you won’t give up just yet. “three tries?” you suggest to him as he covers his face with his gloved hand to muffle the sound of his laughter.

in between bouts of near-silent laughter, he mimics you. he mockingly saunters over to the icicle, just barely leaping into the air and flapping his hand. as he leans over to laugh some more, clutching onto his abdomen through his puffer coat, you can’t help but giggle as well. it was a pretty pitiable try.

“fine,” he sighs, face still scrunched up in amusement. it’s actually quite cute. despite the seering embarrassment coursing through you, you’re glad to have been able to put that smile on his face. even in the dull, yellow-tinted lighting in the courtyard, you can make out the prominent dimples in his cheeks. after some more breathless chuckles, he continues, “try again.”

and so, you do. it’s a better one this time. you get closer to hitting the tip of the icicle than you thought you could. maybe it’s the sight of jeongin laughing like he hadn’t laughed all day. maybe it’s the slight thrill that accompanies sneaking out so late. whatever it is, it propelled you further into the air. but still, nothing.

“you have no technique,” he remarks, still speaking in whisper.

you scoff. “you try, then.”

“fine! step aside.” he takes a few steps toward you, arrogantly gesturing for you to move over so he can get into position. you concede, backing up. just as he’d done, you scan your surroundings just in case. however, right as you turn your head to the side, a bright light shoots out from the distance. your eyes widen and heartbeat quickens. it’s a pointed light; one much whiter and brighter than that of the lampposts commonly found in the courtyard. a flashlight. and it’s getting closer.

just as he’s about to take to the air, you grab the arm of his coat and give it a tug. he follows your gaze to find the flashlight as well. he jolts, letting out a small gasp.

“hey!” a voice calls out. whoever it is that’s holding the flashlight knows you’ve broken the rules.

“quick,” he says, voice louder than before. he takes your hand in his. “let’s go.” pulling you along with him, he runs down the cobblestone path toward the dorms. eventually, your speed matches his and you’re able to catch up to him, running beside him and holding his hand all the while. the feeling is electrifying. the wintry breeze sweeping through the night, the feeling of his gloved hand wrapped tightly around yours, and the rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you run are all enough to make your heart race. eventually, you lose sight of the flashlight behind you. you’ll probably get called down to the headmaster’s office tomorrow morning. maybe they didn’t see who you are. maybe they’ll let it slide. still, maybe you’ll get in trouble… but you don’t care. you will tomorrow, but not right now.

the flashlight has disappeared. the two of you slow down, relieved to have outrun your opposition. as you come to a full stop, he lets go of your hand to place both of his on his knees, panting. you put your hands on your hips to do the same. after a beat, you make eye contact. and immediately afterward, the both of you are sent into a fit of laughter.

“that was close,” he sighs, looking up at you in awe of what’d just occurred.

while chuckling, you reply, “yeah.”

a moment passes. your laughter fades back into shallow breathing as you take a look around, realizing you’re still not even close to the dorms. a chill runs through you. you didn’t even realize you’d broken a sweat until a gust of air drifts through your coat sleeve. you visibly shiver, prompting jeongin to straighten his stance.

“here,” he says, unwrapping the scarf around his neck. he then drapes it around you, wrapping the cotton fabric around yours. you watch his hands as they adjust the scarf. you’d given him the navy blue gloves as a christmas present last year. they’re now a staple in his winter ensemble. you look up at him. he’s been looking at you.

“thanks.”

“no problem,” he replies with a smile. the dim light could never drown out the sparkle that permanently resides in his eyes, nor diminish the charm of his dimples. as he looks at you, you suddenly feel much warmer than before.

he turns away from you, slightly bending his knees. “come on,” he whispers.

the piggyback ride.

you giggle. “w-what?”

“get on my back,” he clarifies, grinning even wider. “we don’t have much time!”

“but i didn’t hit the-”

“close enough! come on, before my knees give out.”

“fine! fine.”

you do as he instructed, hopping onto his back and wrapping your arms and legs around him. you let out a bit of a squeal as you leave the ground, sending butterflies through his stomach. he holds tightly onto the backs of your legs to support you. he keeps his knees slightly bent as he begins your trek to the dorms ahead, your chin resting comfortably upon his shoulder. it’s a familiar feeling, yet it never ceases to heighten your senses.

every so often, he lets out an exaggerated groan. as they become more and more dramatic, your smile widens. you begin laughing after his longest one, giving him a playful slap on the cheek. and, of course, his reaction is magnified. you then have to shush him in order to preserve your obscurity.

“has anybody ever told you how annoying you are?” you ask, hushed beside his ear.

“never in my life,” he retorts.

you giggle. “well i’m telling you now.”

he glances at you, smirking. “doesn’t count. you’re not just anybody.” he turns back forward, continuing down the path. you don’t know what to say. warmth flushes through your cheeks, rendering you speechless. he knows he made things awkward, but frankly, he doesn’t care. that same clever smile remains plastered on his blushing face for the rest of the silent walk… the too silent walk.

“we’re almost there. thank god,” he remarks, a hint of playful sarcasm in his tone. what he says is true. your destination is near. but alas, his comment garners no response. seeing as it’s late at night - or, rather, early in the morning - you’ve grown tired. thus, after the heat within your face settled and your head relaxed upon jeongin’s shoulder, you dozed off. “y/n?” he whispers. still nothing. all of a sudden, though, he hears a soft noise. a breath. he understands.

and he thinks it’s absolutely adorable.

he’s honored, in fact. you trust him enough to fall asleep in his arms, regardless of the hell he gives you. there’s a certain sense of understanding that lies beneath the layers of banter you’ve built throughout these past few years that has always given him a sliver of hope. the hope that at times like these, you’d feel safe enough to be yourself, the hope that you’d accompany him on more late-night escapades despite the pressures of authority… and, subsequently, the hope that there’s something more between you two than just friendship. it’s a funny feeling. hope. not yearning, not pining… just a hypothesis supplemented with a hell of a lot of optimism.

as he reaches the entrance to your dorm building, he’s struck with the realization that he can’t enter. for multiple reasons. the first is that he’ll need your keycard. he couldn’t even open the door if he wanted to. consequently, he’ll need to get you down from his back - begrudgingly so. thankfully, however, your resident assistant knows what you two have been up to. yeji approaches the door with a knowing smirk. jeongin innocently smiles back through the glass panel on the door.

yeji opens the door with a short sigh as she sees your condition. “what’d you guys do this time? go for a hike?” she steps outside wearing little to protect her from the weather. a knitted sweater and pajama pants don’t really cut it when it’s below freezing out. “sheesh,” she remarks. “nevermind, i guess.”

jeongin silently shushes the redhead before him. “they saw us,” he mouths out to her. she takes a look around for any signs of trouble, just as the two of you had done earlier. then, she carefully steps around the boy and taps you on the shoulder.

“wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispers, continuing to poke at you.

suddenly, you become aware of the prodding sensation at your back, as well as the faint noise echoing from beside your ear. a voice. you groggily open your eyes, lifting your head up from jeongin’s shoulder. it then occurs to you that you’ve stopped moving as well.

“come on,” yeji continues.

“hi,” you squeak, voice raspy from fatigue, before an involuntary yawn slips out. you straighten your posture, allowing for yeji to take hold of your arm. then, jeongin bends down a bit, giving you the ability to step down from your position as yeji holds onto you for balance. “thanks.”

once you’re down, jeongin stretches his back and arms. “i thought you were dead, you know. until i heard you snoring.”

you chuckle. “oh, please. you should hear yourself in geography class.” he clicks his tongue as you and yeji each let out a quiet giggle.

“it’s getting late, you two,” yeji says, clutching onto her own arms for warmth. “and cold. let’s go.” she starts toward the door, gesturing for you to follow her inside. you almost make it in, too, before you remember something.

“oh! the scarf,” you exclaim. well, whisper-exclaim. you unravel the cloth around your neck, walking back over to the boy to whom it belongs. you do exactly what he’d done for you, draping the garment around him before wrapping it over his shoulder.

he can’t help but blush. you can’t help but notice.

“chop chop!” asserts yeji, beginning to shiver from the cold.

jeongin blinks up at her before returning his gaze to you. “goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs. the look he’s giving you sends a chill through you. a small smile, genuine eyes… your face takes on a familiar warmth once more.

“goodnight, dummy,” you reply, nonchalantly. his grin widens.

yeji crosses her arms. “i will close this door right now.”

“alright!” you respond, turning toward her with your hands raised in defeat. you step inside, striding past her and toward the hall.

“now, get back to your dorm before you get suspended.”

“yes ma’am,” jeongin remarks in return. “g’night.” they exchange a smile and wave before yeji finally closes the door.

jeongin can’t help but grin to himself as he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets and starts his departure to his building. his cheeks are ablaze, which he’d normally suggest is due to the cold. not this time, though. now, he has a pep in his step. he’ll meander home, beaming with a sense of joy. joy, giddiness, excitement… hope. and, when he finally arrives back at his dorm - much to his sleepy roommate’s dismay - he’ll stay up a little while longer thinking about you; the subtle sounds of your breath beside his ear, the way you’d let out a hushed laugh at his remarks, and how absolutely darling you looked wrapped up in his scarf. little does he know you’ll be lying wide awake doing the exact same thing.

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @changnuggie, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @moonlit-lixie, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @sunshine-skz, ( join my tag list !! )

282 notes · View notes

lovely-ateez · 4 years ago

Text

Just What The Doctor Ordered~

ꕥPosted: 3/14/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Wooyoung

ꕥWord Count: ~2.0k

ꕥWarnings: Language, Protected sex (Reader’s on the pill), Public sex (sort of), Praising, Wooyoung has a thing for being called doctor, Dirty talk

ꕥA/N: Please respect your healthcare workers—Doctor Wooyoung hella hot tho 🥵🤚

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to will my migraine away.

“You know you should probably go see a doctor.” My best friend and coworker, Hongjoong, spoke as he stirred his morning coffee.

“It’s fine. I get them all the time.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem. You shouldn’t.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Honestly, I’ve trying to avoid going to the doctor but I think you have a point. I can barely focus on anything anymore.”

“Good. Schedule an appointment as soon as you get the chance. You don’t want to wait any longer.” He walked closer to me and ran a hand along my back, “And let me know how it goes, alright? I worry about you sometimes.”

I let out a small laugh, “Thanks, Joongie. I will.”

“Miss y/n.”

I raised my head to meet a young woman in light blue scrubs. She smiled at me, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I certainly understood, I’d had many long, long days at work myself.

I hope your day gets better, miss.

“Right this way, please.”

I stood, following her as she lead me into a room and instructed me to sit in one of the chairs.

“The doctor you normally see has been quite busy today, so we’ll have one of our newer doctors see you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” I pressed a hand to my forehead.

“So could you give me run down of what’s been going on?” She clicked a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper from her pocket.

“Sure, basically I’ve just been having really bad migraines.”

“How severe have they been?”

“I mean they’ve been bad enough that I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

“Anything else troubling you?”

“Nope that’s it.”

She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper and smiled at me.

“Alright, the doctor will be with you soon.” Were her last words as she exited the room with a sigh.

Knowing it’d likely take awhile, I unlocked my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media, eventually getting bored and playing a game instead.

The door opened and I jumped in my seat, placing my phone aside. The young man that walked into the room smiled, running a hair through his parted black hair.

“Hello, I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, my breath seemed to leave me all at once. His sunkissed skin was seemingly flawless, the closed-mouth smile that he flashed showing slight dimples on his cheeks, the lab coat and stethoscope around his neck left me to admire his appearance. He was certainly the most fit and attractive doctor, let alone man I’d ever seen.

“Oh you, too.”

He reached out to shake my hand and as we touched I felt sparks shoot through me. His hands were slightly rough but still soft. He released my hand with a kind smile.

“So do you mind telling me what’s going on?” He moved a stool that was in the corner of the room closer to me, sitting on it and slightly spreading his legs, his hands on his knees. I felt my head fogging as I fought myself to not stare at him.

“Well I’ve been having really bad migraines recently. I don’t really know what’s causing them.”

“How long have you been having them?”

“For a few months actually, but they’ve only become really bad within the last couple weeks.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Could they be stress induced, by any chance?”

“I mean...I don’t think so? My job is usually stressful but I haven’t been more stressed than normal.”

“Hmm okay. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light?”

“No, no other symptoms.”

“Could you be pregnant? That can often-”

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a quite a while so that’s not it. I’ve been busy with work.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a slight smirk on his face, but it was gone before I could fully register it.

“I certainly understand that. I was able to get through medical school faster than most but I was studying all the time so I’ve never really had time for a girlfriend.”

I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say as I felt happiness bubble up in my stomach knowing that he was single.

“So how often do you normally get them?”

I cocked my head and raised a brow, “Get what?”

He let out a chuckle that released butterflies in my stomach, “I mean your migraines. How often do you get them?”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks turn pink, “Maybe four times a week.”

“Cute.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. I was relatively confident he didn’t intend for me to hear it and I blushed even more.

“Well the nurse told me she forgot to take your vitals so...do you mind?”

“Not at all!” I internally slapped myself for sounding far too enthusiastic, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to care, giving a small smile.

“Could you take off your jacket for me, please?”

“Of course.” I said, ridding myself of the thick coat I was wearing, placing it on a nearby chair. He walked towards me—the smell of his cologne intoxicating—and put the eartips of the stethoscope in his ears.

Wooyoung placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to my back, “Breathe in and out normally for me, please.”

I did as I was told, blocking my mind from the devilishly handsome man right next to me.

After a moment he removed the tool from my back. “I’m going to place the stethoscope on your chest now, okay?”

Wooyoung eyed my sweater which had slightly thicker material in the front, “Is it alright if I put the stethoscope down your shirt? It’ll be hard to hear your heart through your sweater.”

“Oh—yeah that’s okay!” I cleared my throat, “I mean like yeah it’s fine.”

Way to be smooth.

Wooyoung chucked as he reached down the collar of my shirt with the tool, its cold making me shiver. He apologized for the temperature, assuring me it wouldn’t take but a minute.

“That’s odd,” He stated, an eyebrow raised, “Your heart shouldn’t be beating that fast. Do you know why that might be?”

His dark eyes looked into my own and I swallowed. “I...I just...”

“Yes?”

I looked at the floor, unable to say it while looking in his eyes, “It’s you.”

“Me? How’s that?” I saw from the corner of my eye a slight smirk growing on his face.

I looked into his dark eyes, “My heart is racing because you’re so close to me.”

“Tell me, then. Would it beat faster if I got even closer?”

Stethoscope still on my chest, he leaned down, his lips almost touching my own.

The man let out a deep laugh, much deeper than his speaking voice, “I was correct.”

I was barely able to speak when my eyes drifted to his lips, “It’ll beat even faster if you kiss me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

Wooyoung grabbed my cheek with his free hand and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine. He didn’t have to tell me that my heart was racing. I could feel it. I could feel my heart rate increasing the longer his lips touched mine. My hands wrapped around his neck, hands running through his thick hair and pulling it slightly. He bit my bottom lip in response and I whimpered into the kiss, pulling him even closer.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

I pulled his hair a bit harder and he groaned against my lips. As if he just remembered the stethoscope, he broke the kiss to pull it away from my chest, removing it from his ears and tossing it on the nearby table.

I giggled and he smiled at me, placing his hands on either side of the chair I was sitting in. Leaning in closer he teased my lips with his, giving me a slight peck before kissing down my jaw to my neck. I reached for his coat and hurriedly removed it from his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to get him undressed.

Gasping for air I grabbed at his hair once more, desperately needing to hear him groan again and he didn’t disappoint. His hands danced to my sweater, slightly lifting it.

“I hate to say it, because I’m really enjoying this, but you are on the clock.”

“Fuck it.” he growled, “I don’t have any patients scheduled today and I work harder than anyone here. I want this if you do.”

“I really do. Fuck me, Wooyoung.”

Without hesitation he pulled my sweater and bra over my head, leaving kisses all over my chest.

“Help me take off your pants, bunny.”

I whimpered, “Yes doctor.”

“Shit that’s hot.” He leaned in close to my ear, “Say it again. Doctor’s orders.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.” I pulled my pants down and threw them across the room.

Wooyoung’s hands teasingly ran up and down my thighs, making me shiver.

“You’re insanely gorgeous.” He growled into my ear.

I couldn’t come up with a solid response, my desire speaking for me, “It’s your turn, doctor. Off with the shirt.”

He made a dramatic flair of pulling his shirt slowly over his head, my eyes growing hazy while looking at his perfectly defined abs.

“Fuck.”

A cocky look formed on his face as he watched my eyes scan over him, soon after lifting me from the chair to the exam table.

He ran a digit along my clothed clit, prompting my back to arch off the table. I grabbed his arms and pulled him towards me, hips bucking into his, the friction setting my body on fire.

He groaned, head falling back as his body gave into his pleasure. Before long he was pulling down my soaked panties and leveling his face with my core.

“Don’t.” I said through heavy breaths, earning a concerned look from Wooyoung, “I want you in me now.”

His eyes widened, “Shit I don’t have a condom.”

I pulled him closer to me, “I’ve been on the pill for several months don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in his eyes currently outweighing the lust I could see behind them.

“I promise.”

The lust returned to his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. The rest of his clothes were discarded in a hurry, his member then lining up with my core.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, okay?”

His consideration made me smile, knowing full damn well I wouldn’t want him to stop. “I will. You too.”

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle and entered me slowly. I felt my eyes close as I focused on the feeling of him inside me, feeling out of breath already. I moaned as he pulled out slightly and rammed his hips back into mine.

“You like this?” He growled, “Knowing that anyone could catch us?”

I nodded, letting out quiet whimpers as I gasped for air. His speed was quick and hard, hitting every spot inside me my fingers could never reach.

“What a dirty girl you are.”

My walls clenched around him as tears welled in my eyes from the stimulation, my moans gradually getting louder without my control.

He leaned closer to me, “Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t let everyone here know what we’re up to, can we?”

I whimpered as he picked up speed and I forced my eyes open, needing nothing more than to see him. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, and his hair was sporadically sticking to his forehead. He looked godly.

“You look so beautiful under me, taking me so well,” He said through half-lidded eyes, “How are you feeling, love?”

I whined at the pet name and clenched around him. He groaned and I brought myself to speak, “I feel f-full, doctor.”

Wooyoung nuzzed my neck, placing a few kisses upon my skin, and I felt my high approaching.

“Touch me, please.” I pleaded.

He complied, teasingly running his fingers along my clit and I felt sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? Be my good girl and cum for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning loudly as I came, feeling Wooyoung release at the same time. He stilled, watching me catch my breath as he did the same.

“Pretty sure I just broke several medical moral codes but damn I don’t regret a minute of that.”

I hid my face in his chest, face heating up, “Me either.”

He pulled out of me and I pouted at the loss of feeling him.

“We just had sex and you’re still needy?”

“Listen, you just feel good inside of me.”

He leaned over me a gave me a long, sweet kiss, “You feel pretty good around me, yourself.”

Wooyoung pulled back and reached for his boxers, putting them on before grabbing some paper towels and cleaning me up. “Get dressed, doll.”

I nodded and slowly slipped my clothes on, legs feeling wobbly. He noticed and smiled at me, fully dressed now.

“Well,” He started, “I think we should exchange numbers in case you experience more migraines. We’ll have to monitor that, of course.” His eyes twinkled.

“Ah yes, of course.” I giggled, handing over my phone.

I watched his fingers glide over the keyboard, my eyes once more trailing down his chest, unable to forget how good he looked shirtless.

Without looking up he spoke, his voice lighthearted, “I can see you, you know.”

“No you can’t.” I teased.

He laughed and handed over his phone for me to do the same. “I can write you a prescription if you feel like that’s something you need. Have you tried over the counter medicine?”

I chuckled and he gave me a questioning look. “It’s just that the conversation took a different direction than I was expecting. But no, I haven’t.”

Wooyoung nodded, “I would recommend that you start with Ibuprofen and if that doesn’t work, let me know and we can prescribe you a stronger medicine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over us. Noticing my nervousness, Wooyoung pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, “I need to go, but I’ll call you, okay?”

I gave a shy nod and bit my lip.

“Do you like coffee by any chance?” He questioned as he ran a hand through my hair. I welcomed his touch, leaning closer to him.

“Love it, why?”

“I say we meet up at a coffee shop soon. I’ve got a particular one in mind and I think you’ll really like it.”

I smiled, beyond happy to know he wanted to see me again, “Works for me.”

“So it went pretty well, I think.”

“Good, have you been feeling better?” Hongjoong asked later in the week.

“Much.” I bit my lip, looking down, “I’ve got a date later today.”

“What? With who?” Hongjoong asked with a smile, genuinely happy for me.

“Um...the doctor I saw earlier this week.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Oh my god you do not.”

“I do. I really like him.” I confessed, “We’ve been texting a lot.”

“Damn.” He shook his head, “That’s definitely a surprise but I’m happy for you girl. You know, why don’t you head out early? Our shifts are almost over anyways and I can finish up anything you’ve still got to do.”

“No I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I insist. Go ahead.” Hongjoong all but pushed me out of the office, sending me on my way and wishing me luck.

I waved back at him, thanking him again before leaving the building. I hopped in my car and drove off, feeling happiness bubble in my chest.

I took a step into the cute coffee shop, looking around at the full tables before locking eyes with Wooyoung. His eyes sparkled with the same playful look as I remembered. I walked over to where he was sitting and took the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He smiled wide.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you gonna order anything?”

“Maybe in a bit. I wanna spend time with the handsome man in front of me first.”

A slight red dusted his ears as he tried to laugh away his shyness. “How’ve your migraines been?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had any since I saw you last.”

He cocked his head. “Wonder what could’ve fixed that?”

I bit my lip, meeting his eyes, “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Incredible. This is a medical breakthrough. I can just imagine the medical articles.” Wooyoung raised a hand, moving it in the air as he spoke, “Sex cures chronic migraines, experiments suggest.”

I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“What? Am I wrong?” He said with a mischievous smile.

I quirked a brow, “I think we should probably conduct more experiments though, right? In the name of science.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “You make a compelling argument. I think I have to agree. My place after this?”

“Absolutely.”

Final Note: Listen I know Wooyoung probably should have actually prescribed y/n something for her migraines but it’s to further the plot okay please understand—

#atzinc #ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez imagines #fluff #kpop fluff #doctor au #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung au #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung smut

229 notes · View notes

escapewithbts · 3 years ago

Text

“Just Benefits?”(Part One) - Jungkook

————————————————

You stretched out your arms and shielded your tired eyes from the morning sunlight peaking through the curtain. Upon sitting up you noticed the space in the bed next to you was empty. You wrapped the sheet closer around your almost naked body as it had gotten colder without another human lying next to you radiating warmth. You rubbed your eyes and yawned before grabbing your phone from the nightstand. An array of text messages were waiting for you.

7:34am From Jungkook: Hey y/n

7:34am From Jungkook: Sorry I’m not there, I had an early meeting

7:34am From Jungkook: Stay as long as you like

7:45am From Jungkook: Also I just want to say I had a good time talking with you last night

You locked the phone without responding and pulled off the covers. Then you got out of the bed and searched the floor for something to put on over your underwear. You only had jeans and a blouse, so you opted for Jungkook's oversized black t shirt from last night and a pair of his shorts. They were massive on you but you were comfy. You picked up your pants and shirt off the floor and folded them neatly on the bed as memories from the night before appeared in your mind;

8:10pm from Jungkook: I had such a rough day. Want to come over?

8:10pm to Jungkook: I’m at work

8:11pm from Jungkook: Ok, after?

8:11pm to Jungkook: Sure. I’m off at 10.

8:12pm from Jungkook: I’ll be at the dorm, text when you get here so I can buzz you in

You sighed and clicked off your phone. This was the third night this week he asked you to come over and it was only Wednesday. You weren't necessarily complaining, it was better than going to your own apartment where you lived alone, but you couldn't help but wonder why he was asking so much.

You guys kind of had an unspoken arrangement; to spend the night at each other's places when the other felt stressed or in need of companionship. You would have sex, of course, sometimes cuddle a little bit after, and then go on about your days the next morning.

You had met through one of your close friends, Kim Namjoon. He was in the same band as Jungkook, the famous k-pop group BTS. You had known Jungkook through RM for years now, you wouldn't have said you were friends, but you were always friendly and liked hanging out with him in a group. This part of your relationship with Jungkook however was relatively new.

It had all started one night when you were hanging out at their place with all of them, watching movies and drinking... maybe a little too much. All the other guys had gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook alone and tipsy. Jungkook had always been shy, just like you, so when the two of you ended up kissing on the couch it took you both by surprise. One thing lead to another and before you knew it you were both naked in his bed. The sex was good, no great, so great in fact that you both knew you wanted to keep having it. And that's what lead you to this unspoken agreement you had. That first time was months ago now, and the two of you hadn't even talked about the future, nor the present for that matter. You were enjoying each other's company and not putting any kind of label on it... but you knew that always seemed to end up in a mess.

After work, you drove straight to the boy's dorm, notifying Jungkook of your arrival via text. You pressed the call box and waited for the front door to open. Jungkook answered after just a few seconds. He was wearing an oversized black t shirt and boxers, his long black hair was tousled about his head, and his dark brown eyes looked tired, his cherubic face slightly puffy. You had to admit, he looked very sexy, yet also adorable, and it caused you to feel butterflies in your stomach. You ignored them.

"y/n..." his big smile and your name in his soft voice made your knees weak, "I'm glad you're here."

You smiled at him slightly.

"Is anyone else home?" you asked quietly.

"Jimin and Namjoon-hyung, but they're asleep."

You nodded in response and he stepped closer to you, pinning you against the now closed front door. He wrapped his long arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck, kissing your weak spot. It made you moan. How could he do that so quickly? You felt him smile against your skin and it sent a shiver down your spine.

He took your hand and lead you down the hallway to his bedroom. It was basically a routine now. As soon as he shut the door, you were pulling off each other's clothes, kissing passionately between each layer removed. You never got tired of looking at him naked; his perfectly toned arms and thighs, his six pack and deep v hip muscles, the sleeve of tattoos that lined his hand and arm. He had a beautiful body, and that was something you had no problem admitting to yourself.

For being the youngest member in the group, he sure knew what he was doing. He was extremely shy on the surface, but that all disappeared in bed.

When you both had finished (you multiple times thanks to Jungkook), he laid down behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and the other under your head, like a big spoon and little spoon. He lazily ran his fingertips along your bare side and it gave you goosebumps.

"You've asked me here a lot this week," you stated matter-of-factually.

You felt him sigh softly.

"Yeah, work's been kind of tough."

You traced the purple heart tattoo on his hand with your finger gently, then moved to the ARMY symbol to do the same.

"I'm sorry."

You wanted to know more, but you didn't want to pry.

He sighed again and buried his face in your messy hair.

"Your hair smells so nice." he said muffled.

You smiled.

"Thanks."

There was a pause before he spoke again.

"Plus, I like having you here. In my bed."

That made your heart skip a beat, but you had to ignore it.

"I like being in your bed." you replied shyly.

He scooted himself closer to you, if that was even possible, so close that you could feel his pounding heart in the middle of your back.

"Um.. h-how was your day?" he questioned.

The two of you didn't usually talk much after, hardly at all actually, but this was nice.

"It was okay. Just went to work. Pretty uneventful," you shrugged, "How was yours?"

Jungkook removed his arm from under you and turned so he was lying on his back, his arm resting under his head. You did the same.

"Aishh, it was okay. It's been a little stressful lately. It's different with everything that's been going on. We haven't even really experienced anything like it, obviously."

You nodded in understanding.

"But.. you still enjoy it?" you couldn't help but wonder out loud.

He ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Yes, I love it. I get to work with my 6 hyungs every day. But..." he paused, "It's hard sometimes, too. We are constantly busy, constantly booked. Album after album, performance after performance, always filming something, doing press, shooting videos... it can be a lot. We're coming out with a new album in a few weeks, as I'm sure Namjoon-hyung has mentioned, so we've been trying to put on the finishing touches. It's a great album, I was able to write a lot of it and share my ideas and we're really proud. But there are other things I want to do, too."

"Like what?"

He scrunched his face in thought for a moment.

"Release my solo mixtape. I've been working on for literally years. It hasn't felt good enough, but maybe I'm also too picky. And direct more videos. I like directing a lot. I love taking photos and videos, especially of the people and things I love. So I don't know... stuff like that."

He shrugged.

"I'm sure you will find time," you tried reassuring him.

"Sometimes it feels like there isn't enough time in the world."

He paused before turning his head to you.

"Sorry, for ranting about it," he blushed shyly, but gave you a shy smile.

You smiled back.

"I don't mind."

He stretched out his arm, creating in opening between his shoulder and upper arm. He patted the space above the pit of his arm with his other hand.

"Do you... want to lay your head here?" he asked cautiously, hoping it wasn't too bold of a move to ask.

You nodded slowly and moved closer to him, resting your head in the nook he had made, laying your arm across his chest. You felt nervous, as this wasn't a position you two had ever laid in before. You couldn't believe how well you seemed to fit together, and how warm and comfortable he was. You closed your eyes and felt the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took. It made you sleepy.

"Thank you for coming over tonight." he mumbled, kissing your forehead softly.

"Mmmhmm..." you responded sleepily.

He caressed your hair gently over and over, lulling you to dreamland.

Before you were completely out however, you heard him say,

"I wish you'd just stay over every night..."

You left Jungkook's room and was met with the bright sunlight coming in through the large windows that looked over the city of Seoul. You desperately needed some coffee so you made your way into the large kitchen.

"I thought I saw your car here when I left for my bike ride this morning!"

Namjoon's back was turned toward you upon you entering the kitchen, but he still noticed your sudden presence. He was pouring coffee grounds into the machine preparing to make a pot.

"Good morning, Joonie," you responded groggily.

You pulled out a stool from under the kitchen island and sat down, leaning your arms on the countertop.

"And how was your night with our golden boy JK?" he asked teasingly.

You blushed. You had told Namjoon when you guys had first started hooking up, but it was still kind of embarrassing having everyone know about it.

"It was fine..." you mumbled back, fiddling with your fingers.

Namjoon turned around and you were met with his dimpled smile.

"Ahhh, I can't believe our maknae is all grown up... and with one of my best friends nonetheless!" he chuckled, "Life sure is weird."

You rolled your eyes at him.

"I wouldn't say he's with me exactly," you corrected him.

He cocked his head.

"No? Then what would you call it?"

You shrugged, avoiding eye contact with your friend.

"I'm not sure..."

He stared at you in disbelief.

"You guys have talked about it at least, right?"

Your silence was all the response he needed.

"Oh my god, (y/n), come on!" he threw his hand up to his forehead and ran it through his brown hair.

"What, Joonie?" you protested, "It's not exactly an easy conversation to have."

"Well of course not, but it's a conversation you should have."

You sighed. You knew he was right.

He leaned in front of you, placing his elbows in his palms.

"He likes you, (y/n)."

You scoffed.

"No, no," you waved your hands in disagreement, "he doesn't. Not like that."

He raised his eyebrows.

"He's constantly asking me about you, (y/n). Wondering what you're up to, what things you like, how he should respond to you."

You looked at him in surprise.

"He is?"

Your heart started racing.

"Yes," he continued, "You're older than him so it's intimidating. I think he's worried about saying the wrong thing, or coming off too strong towards you."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Why hadn't Namjoon told you this before? Were you that unobservant that you hadn't noticed Jungkook had feelings for you? Or was Namjoon exaggerating? Your mind was racing. You put your head in your palms and rubbed your face, overwhelmed with this new information. You groaned.

"I'm sorry, (y/n) I thought you two had talked about it." he paused, "So what are you then... like friends with benefits?"

You shook your head and shrugged.

"I-I don't know... just benefits?"

It was Namjoon's turn to groan.

"Ahhhhh shit, that never ends well."

"Well what do I do, Namjoon-ah?" you asked in concern.

He thought for a moment.

"Do you like him?"

You felt your stomach flop. It was a question you had been avoiding asking yourself. And now here was Namjoon asking you for an answer.

You ran a hand through your hair.

"I really don't know..."

And that was the truth. Though you had idea of the answer, you weren't sure you were ready to admit it to yourself... or anyone else for that matter.

"Well, I encourage you to try and figure it all out," he stood up straight and turned to grab two mugs out of the cupboard, "I love you and I love Jungkook-ah, I really don't want to see either of you get hurt."

"Yeah..." you agreed quietly.

He poured both you a cup of coffee then opened the refrigerator.

"Now, what should I make us for breakfast?"

69 notes · View notes

reidecorating · 4 years ago

Text

L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with.

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm.

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,”

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him.

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him.

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change.

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another.

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?”

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer.

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once.

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile.

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body.

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration.

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb. She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”

290 notes · View notes

mightymorphingayagenda · 4 years ago

Text

So I received an ask a few months ago about my thoughts on nessian having kids and then last night I had a lot of wine and this happened so, enjoy!?

This was one of those little moments Cassian would bundle up, like some cherished Christmas ornament, and tuck inside his heart forever. If his heart remained in one piece. It was so full he was worried it might break.

The smell of Nesta’s perfume and shortbread had lured him to the kitchen, where he’d found her sat at the table, bottom lip tucked between her teeth and brow furrowed in concentration as she’d iced a cookie. The beam of her high cheek bones a blushing pink in the warmth.

Cue tears brimming.

And he couldn’t even blame it on the presence of any smoke because by some Christmas miracle, his girlfriend had managed to cook something without nearly burning his house down.

Júlia had tucked herself into his girlfriend’s lap, and was mimicking her little mannerisms. Brows dramatically knotted and biting her lip. She’d even clearly tried to match their pyjamas, Nesta’s lose fitting red pants and white tank top a mirror to his daughter’s own long sleeve white shirt and fuzzy red pants.

The two of them were hunched over a cookie each, armed with little icing tubes and humming along to Mud’s ‘Lonely This Christmas’.

“One of those better be for me or it’s the naughty list for you too.”

“Daddy!” Júlia whipped her little head round, grinning excitedly in the way that children did- less actual smile more oh my god look at all my teeth.

“The one and only,” he smiled right back, picking her up as she tried to literally jump from the chair to Nesta’s terror and amusement.

He made a little mwa noise with every kiss he planted on her cheeks, and she was giggling in his arms uncontrollably. Probably hopped up on sugar if the crumbs on the table and the green frosting in her dark hair was anything to go by.

Finally he stopped and his daughter didn’t miss a beat. “Daddy me and Nesta made cookies and we even made the icing on our own and it’s all different colours and she’s really good decorating and she taught me how to draw a snow man!”

It was impossible to determine where one word ended and the other began. Perhaps his daughter had invented her own word several hundred syllables long.

“Can I see?” Cassian pleaded excitedly, putting Júlia down when she nodded so hard he was a little concerned her head might fall off.

“Hi you,” Nesta’s voice like velvet hummed soft and low as he leaned down to give her a chaste kiss, murmuring his own “hey, sweetheart”. Her lips tasted like sugar and he swore he saw a few granules dusted through her thick hair as he pulled back to asses one of Júlia’s creations.

“No way you made that!”

“I did I can show you I’ll show you how to draw a snowman too. And it’s harder than with pencils daddy, because you have to squeeze but you can’t squeeze it too much.”

“She’s got very steady hands,” Nesta said, like she was proud, her head falling back against Cassian’s chest where he stood behind her. He began massaging her shoulders gently. “She could be a brain surgeon,” his girlfriend continued.

Cassian was dangerously close to getting all choked up again.

He’d been a little worried asking Nesta to keep an eye on Júlia this evening. Not because he thought she’d let his six year old start licking plug sockets or anything. It was just they’d never hung out just the two of them before. He and Nesta had only been together eight months and he’d only introduced his daughter to his girlfriend two months ago.

But he hadn’t had anyone else to call when the snow had started falling with a vengeance on his way back from picking up a Christmas tree. It wasn’t Mor’s week with Júlia so she and Emerie had booked a Christmas mini-break, and his brothers were at a conference. So he’d called Nesta.

She’d been more than happy to pick up Lia from school and keep an eye on her. Almost as happy as she’d been nervous. He’d read it in her voice even through the phone. Nesta had never wanted kids, she’d told him as much, and it had put the brakes on their first date for a while. But Júlia had a mum, two in fact, and the idea that there was any pressure on Nesta in that department had slowly began to dissipate.

Still, Cassian had felt a tiny bit...scared. A bit crushed by his wanting them to adore each other as much as he adored them. So walking in and finding them like that, it had taken the wind out of him.

“I am going to be a baker!” Júlia proclaimed from her own seat now, knees tucked beneath her so she could reach the table.

“What will you call you bakery?” Nesta asked with genuine interest. It was lovely. She spoke to Júlia the same way she would an adult. There was no entertaining or humouring his daughter’s insane babbling, she treated every word as though it held the weight that of a wisened librarian’s might.

“Lia’s Bakery and I will you give you free cookies!”

“What about me? Do I get free cookies?”Cassian enquired. “I haven’t had a single one of your amazing cookies yet.”

“You weren’t here! And you didn’t help make them so I don’t think you should get any.”

“I was getting our Christmas tree!”

“Yes where is this tree that has kept you so busy?” Nesta demanded, tilting her head back to look up at him with arched brows. A naughty twinkle in her dove-blue eyes.

She loved teasing him, but Cassian always gave as good as he got when it came to her. With Júlia, well, his daughter got away with murder. Which Nesta found endlessly amusing.

“It’s by the front door. I think I’m gonna need a cookie to restore my energy before moving it again,” he looked to Lia.

“Fine,” she huffed. “But you’re not allowed to pick it, Nesta has to pick it.”

The way she said Nesta. Like she were one of the Disney Princess she loved to tell him about even though he’d literally just watched the film with her. It made his heart explode like a powdery snowball.

“Hmmmm, what about this one,” Nesta hummed, picking up a sugary treat frosted with a big red heart and offering it up for Júlia’s approval.

“Yes, daddy can have that one,” she nodded curtly.

“You can have a bite now, and the rest once you’ve put the tree up,” Nesta told him as he rested folded forearms against the back of her chair and hunched down to tuck his head over her shoulder, tilted a little to give her his best I-fucking-adore-you-woman eyes.

“Tease,” he smirked.

“Strategic,” she corrected, feeding him the cookie.

“Mmmmm,” he groaned. He wasn’t even putting it on, it tasted fucking delicious. Buttery and somehow melting and crumbing in his mouth at the same time.

“You’ve got a little something,” Nesta laughed, brushing the manicured pad of her thumb against her bottom lip.

“I was saving you a taste,” Cassian grinned, giving her a gentle kiss.

“Nesta doesn’t want kisses she wants the Christmas tree!” Júlia exclaimed, exasperated and impatient.

“You read my mind, Lia,” Nesta said.

Cassian chuckled, pushing off the back of Nesta’s chair and wondering back through to the front door.

Lia was hot on his heels, grabbing Nesta’s hand and tugging her from her seat.

It was a fucking massive tree, and his daughter’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took it in, halting in front of the sofa and nearly vibrating with excitement. By contrast his girlfriend collapsed onto the coach and he was tempted to laugh again. Childcare had clearly done a number on her.

But apparently she wasn’t so exhausted she couldn’t manage a little ogling of him.

Cassian might have been smirking by the time he got the tree upright in its stand, preening a little at the way Nesta’s gaze had lingered on his arms as he’d hauled 120 pounds of festivity about.

A fresh blush blemished her cheeks and she was rolling her full bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him. Knees half tucked beneath her and an arm laying across the back of the sofa, her ear resting against it and lose hair falling carelessly about the cushion.

He was going to wife her up so hard.

“Right, how about some decorations then?” He grinned down at Lia, having thrown Nesta a wink she’d batted off with a roll of her eyes.

“We did them in the colours look, we put them out colour coorninated.”

“Co-ordinated,” Nesta corrected fondly from the sofa as Cassian took in the neat sections of ornaments laid out on the floor.

“Co-or-din-ated” Júlia repeated, already on the floor and searching for the first glittering item to hang.

“We’ve gotta do the lights first though, anjinho,” he reminded her.

“Nesta we have twinkly lights and they can flash or you can leave them so they are always shining or when you click it you make it so they go like,” Lia wiggled her fingers in the air which Cassian recognised referred to the cascading setting on the lights, but knew meant nothing to Nesta.

She laughed none the less, Júlia’s happiness and excitement infectious.

“Will you show me?” She asked, propping her head up on her fist.

“You wanna go grab them, Lia? They’re in my office, on the desk.”

“Yeah I will go get them!” She yelled, already barrelling up the stairs, her little feed padding up the wooden slates like she were merely a skeleton of springs bundled up in the body of a little girl.

Nesta laughed again, a wide smile revealing white teeth and one of her beauty spots quirking in a dimple as she watched.

Once Júlia was out of sight however, Cassian was making a play for her attention. Falling onto the sofa beside her and throwing an arm around her waist.

“I think we have a problem,” he sighed happily, a smirk that promised trouble tugging at his mouth.

“We do?” She asked, letting her head rest against the pillow that was his bicep. Looking up at him.

“I only got one tree. But I have two angels.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and groaned through a subtle laugh, burying her lovely face into his shoulder and thus a telltale smile.

“You’re the worst.”

“And you, are the best,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her hair and she looked up, smiling casual and soft. “Thank you for looking after her tonight.”

Nesta pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with a supple pressure for moment. “My pleasure,” she said as they pulled back just barely.

Cassian grinned again at that and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with his free hand. “How was it?” He asked.

“Honestly?” She said, a hand coming to his opposite shoulder, thumb rubbing soft circles there. “Made me fall in love with you all over again.”

Brows immediately rising he let slip an, “oh shit.”

Nesta laughed. “I mean it,” she said, head tilting a little as she watched him. “I don’t think I ever actually appreciated what your being a dad meant. There’s this whole person, this kind, clever, funny person who’s just perfect and you made her, from scratch. And you’re raising her and every little thing she does is because of what you’ve taught her it just...” she trailed off. Overcome by a sentiment she couldn’t put into words.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Cassian asked. Unable to help himself. And if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with how she made his heart ache in the best way, he would’ve noticed a similar ache in his cheeks, because he was smiling like crazy.

“I know we weren’t meant to see each other and if you have plans of course you should do those but, well you’re here now, and judging by those very sexy pyjamas you’re staying the night?”

Laughing Nesta slapped at his hand playfully as it slid from her knee, up her thigh to take a greedy handful of her ass, her jersey pyjama bottoms soft beneath his touch.

“Lia and I are going to go ice skating tomorrow. She’d love it if you came.”

“Really?”

“In fact I think she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t,” he admitted.

“You sure you want me there? I know you have this sad little crush on me or whatever but you’re allowed to want time with just the two of you-“

“Shut up,” he laughed. “Of course I want you there. Really it’d just be cruel sending you home to pine over me-"

“Asshole,” she grinned.

“Daddy I will put the lights on but I need to sit your shoulders!”

They both turned their heads as Lia hurried down the stairs with strings of lights spilling over in her little hands.

“Wowwowwow slow down,” he leapt up. “We don’t run down the stairs, do we?”

“Can we sled down the stairs again this year?” Júlia begged excitedly as Cassian scooped her up at the foot of the stairs and held her at his chest with one arm.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he told Nesta. “We have never once done that ever.”

His girlfriend laughed as she stood up and Júlia shook her head very seriously.

“Never ever,” she agreed.

“Then I’m going to beat you both when we do it this year, because I’m a stair sledding pro,” Nesta flicked Lia’s nose playfully.

Her wide eyed gasp made it seem as if Nesta had told her she was Santa.

“Don’t make me haul the mattresses out into the hall right now,” Cassian warned.

“Bring it, old man.”

Honestly Cassian would lose to her gladly, so long as it wasn’t the only ride she’d be taking on his mattress this evening.

* @featherymalignancy

* @sleeping-and-books

* @my-fan-side

* @hearts-of-persephone

* @witchling13

* @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

* @typicalmidnightsoul

* @sezkins79

* @thebitchupstairs

* @fourshizzle149

* @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies -

* @yikesitsmaddie

* @jjellybean

* @thronesandstars

* @mis-lil-red

* @rhysandsdarlingfeyre

* @cf-mist-and-fury

* @breezy-freezy

* @dayanna-hatter

* @anishake

* @candid-confetti

* @goldbooksblack

* @impossiblescissorspeachpaper

* @justgiu12

* @twansy17

* @caotica-e-quieta

* @singinginthedarktimes

* @carebear1339

* @keshavomit

* @januarystears

* @bookstantrash

215 notes · View notes

p-artsypants · 3 years ago

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?”

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?”

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.”

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded.

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.”

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette.

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.”

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.”

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?”

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.”

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.”

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.”

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?”

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said.

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later.

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.”

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?”

“K.”

“Did I do something?”

“K”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.”

“K”

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated.

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him.

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected.

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly.

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands.

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office.

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk!

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!”

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.”

“I hope you do.”

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances.

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket.

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival.

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open.

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through.

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing.

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally.

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen.

He didn’t have his dimples.

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.”

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.”

“I have been, I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.”

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing.

“Are you going to sit?”

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap.

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.”

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?”

She shrugged.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Doing?”

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?”

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.”

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.”

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.”

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?”

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?”

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.”

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt.

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there.

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly.

“What?”

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.”

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.”

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time.

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around.

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out.

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall.

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.”

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her.

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking?

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong.

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.”

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.”

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!”

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead.

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake.

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #the ghost of Smokey Joe

22 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

Text

Protection - Chapter 1

Summary: Mia Makaruku meets her new neighbor, but he isn’t at all what she expected him to be.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

My muscles scream bloody murder, as I trudge through the hallways. Did coach Riley have to be so gruesome today? Goodness me, I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it back to my car. However, when I see the coach standing further down the hall, I quickly straighten my back and ignore the slight dulling pain I feel in my ankle and the rest of my leg muscles. ‘Mia,’ coach Riley says in a stern tone as I come closer to her.

Oh no, I think to myself. I did something terribly wrong. If she uses that tone after the first training of the week, it can only mean I’m in severe trouble. ‘Yes coach?’ I hesitantly ask.

Coach Riley’s looks indicate she is strict. Her blonde hairs are pulled back in a tight knot, a pair of glasses with a thick black frame rests on her nose and the eyeliner that hardens her eyes. While the indication is absolutely one hundred percent correct, you eventually find out she is a sweetheart deep underneath that hard exterior.

When I first arrived in Chicago five years ago, I had no idea what Thanksgiving entailed and I was ready to spend it alone in my apartment. She invited—correction: forced—me to spend time with her family, because she did not want me to sit alone in my apartment on Thanksgiving.

With my last foster family being everything but a great success, it felt good to be welcomed with open arms into a family. I’ve had my fair share of families and while they were all sweet, the last one was a total nightmare. Being slightly traumatized by the experience, it was good to be hugged by a grandma I had never seen before.

Hugs from grandma’s do wonders.

‘You did good today,’ coach says.

Great, now I know for sure I have severely fucked up. If coach Riley starts with a compliment, she is going to break some pretty bad news within a few seconds. I have trained with her for a little over five years. I know her and her odd and slightly crude way of communicating.

‘Okay?’ I say, waiting for the bomb to drop.

‘However, I want you to take it easy, so next training you’re going to train with Tristan on the side of the field.’

‘Come on, coach,’ I whine. ‘Why?’

‘Upcoming Saturday it’s the second to last game of the year. I need you top fit then.’

‘But I am top fit. Honestly!’

Coach Riley isn’t impressed, but to be honest: when is she ever? If this woman has made a decision, she’ll simply power through, no discussion possible. ‘You take it easy during tomorrows training and you listen carefully to Tristan. I noticed a limp on the field just now.’

‘There wasn’t a limp,’ I say. ‘I swear, it’s nothing to worry ab— Okay, I’ll take it easy tomorrow,’ I quickly say when I see her cocked eyebrow that does not bode well.

She finally smiles. ‘Good. Now scocch, I don’t want to look at your face any longer.’

Just when you think she is finally a little bit approachable and kind, she thankfully does this, because her smile was nearly creeping me out. I can’t stop my chuckle. ‘See you tomorrow, coach,’ I say, holding up my hand as I continue to walk through the hallways.

The closer I get to the exit, the colder it becomes. When I’m training, I somehow forget about the ice cold temperatures. However, when I’m not training, which is the majority of the day, I remember we are nearing the winterbreak and that handling these types of temperatures, is not one of my strengths.

I tense up when I step outside and if my ankle wasn’t slightly bothering me, I’d run to my car. When I reached the vehicle, I quickly step in and start to heat it up. My car, unfortunately, isn’t the most advanced and it takes quite some time before it’s even remotely warm. I shiver in the drivers seat. My phone peeps in my pocket and I pull it out, to check the notification that popped up on my screen.

Reminder to yourself: YOU NEED TO DO SOME GROCERIES. GET YOUR FAT ASS CAT SOMETHING TO EAT.

No, no, no, I forgot. I totally forgot. I curse morning-me for sleeping in today. If I had just done groceries this morning before practice, I could’ve go home now. Why was I lazy and chose an extra hour of sleep over doing something actually productive?

I drive off the parking lot, wave to some of my teammates and go to the nearest grocery store. If I have a clear idea of what I want before I go into the store, I can actually manage to do this pretty swiftly and then go home, so I can curl up on the couch to watch yet another cheesy Christmas movie. I desperately need to buy some food for my cat, some eggs and chocolate and… Do I need more?

This is why one makes shopping lists.

‘You idiot,’ I mumble to myself, as I park the car in front of the store. I get out and walk to the entrance. While I’m strolling through the aisles, to at least get the eggs, cat food and chocolate I do know I need, I hear some girls giggling behind me.

I look over my shoulder to my right and see two young girls standing at the produce section. When they look away, I see a glimpse of their red cheeks and notice they are both wearing Chicago Red Star jerseys. I can’t—and won’t—stop my smile. ‘Hi,’ I say to them, causing them to carefully wave at me.

They shyly wave back. ‘Are you Mia Makaruku?’ one girl asks when she finally found the courage to do so.

I nod. ‘The one and only.’

They look at each other and exchange some excited looks. ‘Can we get a picture?’

This has been my favorite part of the job so far. I mean, sure, I love soccer with all my life, however seeing girls this age cheering me on during the competitions and hearing about how they watch clips of me, so they can learn from my techniques, makes me realize I love that even more. They call me their role model and with the status I have, I can actually be one for them. It’s a job I should take seriously and I do.

When kids tell me they are going to try and watch the European Championship for Women’s Soccer, because I am on the Dutch National Team, I try even harder to be the best player of the competition and be a model for them to look up to. Be someone for them I wished I had when I was younger.

I nod again at the girls. ‘Of course. I love your shirts. Tell me: whose name do you have on the back?’

They start to laugh and turn around, showing the backs of their shirts. ‘Yours of course!’

◎ ◎ ◎

Life hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows for me. I just barely think about it nowadays, since it only leaves me with more questions than answers and I’d rather not wander in the dark like that. It’s weird to think about the things I do remember and don’t.

I do remember the second we skidded off the road. I don’t remember I had a mother or father or three brothers with me in the car. I do remember eventually taking the officer’s hand and despite repeating my name like mantra, kept asking him if he had heard my name correctly. I don’t remember any bodies on the scene, because there weren’t any and I also don’t know how their bodies disappeared.

It’s hard sometimes, knowing there is a memory inside my head that I simply can’t reach, but also not knowing what I’m missing in life. Did my parents love me? Did I have a good bond with my brothers? Was there a specific reason I wasn’t in the system? Why weren’t there other people with the same last name in the Netherlands who recognized me?

I moved from foster family to foster family, while trying to regain my memories by visiting multiple specialists. I went to a lot of places. To England, Ireland, France and Luxembourg, but no one could help me out. At the age of twelve, they simply stopped trying, because it was no use anyways and there was one family back in the Netherlands who insisted on me staying in one place for a change.

Thankfully they did, however I only stayed with them for four years, before I moved to my final family, that was a hell to put it mildly.

Finally, for the first time in yearsI wasn’t going from one specialist to another and there was one place where I was always—despite the family—welcome: my soccer team. In all those years of me visiting specialists, there was always one thing I looked for: a ball to kick around. Soccer was my love, my passion and the only thing I started to care about.

And now I have managed to not only make a name for myself in the USA, but also worldwide. When I was nineteen, I debuted in the Dutch National Team during the European Championship and my performance there was what caught the attention of the Chicago Red Stars. I could leave the small SC Heerenveen in the Netherlands behind and go to the USA. I had seen the American National Team. They were exceptionally good and now I got to play alongside some of them.

My first World Championship was when I was twenty one and the Dutch team was in the finals against the USA. Despite my two goals, the USA was too good and beat us with 4-2. Sure, I was disappointed, but still I was very pleased with the fact that the Netherlands became second and it was such a highlight in my seemingly short professional soccer career thus far.

I managed to overcome all these things and still be the person I am today. Since I can’t remember my past, I made it my mission in life to make the most of my future.

Don’t ask me how, but I managed to come back from the store with three full bags. Apparently, if you wander through the aisles long enough, you’ll find tons of excuses to buy crap you didn’t even need in the first place.

I’m finally back at my apartment building and the automatic doors slide open as I reach them. I walk towards the reception and I say with a smile: ‘Hello Harold, how are you today?'

Harold, the clerk behind the reception who is nearing his pension, greets me with his signature smile and I see the two familiar dimples form in his cheeks. ‘Hello, miss Mia, I’m doing splendid this Monday. How was your training today?’

I simply shrug. ‘It was okay, but I have to take it easy now.’ I can’t help but to roll my eyes. ‘According to my coach, I was “slightly limping” and she needs me top fit this Saturday.’

He scrunches up his nose. ‘But my dear, I think you are incapable of taking things easy. Isn’t your coach aware of that?’

I can’t help but laugh. I always like to talk to Harold, it’s so easy to strike up a conversation with him. ‘I think she just wants to bully me. Is there by the way any mail for me?’

‘There certainly is. Three envelopes for you. Almost makes you seem like a very important lady.’ He sends me a playful wink. ‘Oh, before I forget: I told you about the apartment next to you being sold, right?’

I nod. ‘Does this mean Mystery Person is finally moving in?’ I ask.

Harold nods. ‘He moved in today.’

‘Ah, it’s a man. Is he hot?’

He shrugs. ‘He is pretty stuffy and a bit authoritarian looking. I was hoping for someone as radiant as you. I think we need more people like you around here, not a copy of miss Thornhill.’

I throw my long brown hair over my shoulder. ‘Well, what can I say?’ I chuckle. ‘Not everyone is a ray of sunshine like yours truly. Is there mail for him as well? I can bring it to him.’

‘An envelope did arrive, indeed. I don’t think he will go down here to pick it up. We barely made eye contact today. I hardly even know if he is aware there is a reception, let alone that I’m the clerk.’ He hands me the other yellow envelope and says: ‘Are you sure you want to do this, miss?’

‘Absolutely positive. It might be nice to get to know my next door neighbor. Let’s hope he is not a gigolo. I really can’t use sleepless nights anymore. I have two important games coming up, I need my rest.’

‘Mister Toriello was quite the man,’ Harold laughs. ‘Thank you, my dear, for doing this.’

‘No problem, Harold. See you later!’ I walk to the elevator and hold my card in front of the scanner. The doors slide open and when I get in, I press button number nine. I look at the name on the envelope. It’s actually addressed with a sticker, no handwriting, which I find so impersonal.

A. Walker

A. Walker is probably the most generic name I’ve ever heard. This man could be anybody. Would he be bald, have a beer belly and burps all the time or would he be young, attractive and actually a chance for me to leave my forever alone status behind?

While that would be nice, Harold did say that the man was quite stuffy and authoritarian looking.

As someone with barely any date experience (none at all, actually), I’d say stuffy and authoritarian looking isn’t really my type, but never say never right?

The doors open and I step out on my own floor. I walk through the broad hallways and stop in front of apartment number 943. From behind the door, I can hear someone dragging furniture around the apartment and an occasional male grunt. I knock on the door and just hope that he can hear me. I don’t want to start banging on the door like an idiot.

Thankfully, he did hear me, because footsteps approach the door and when it swings open, my eyes widen.

The man standing in the doorway, does not match the generic sounding A. Walker name at all. He is tall, with broad shoulders and the shortsleeved shirt he is wearing, totally accentuates his muscled biceps. I mean, the body is a total A+ (I don’t think I have ever seen someone this buff, while still being proportionate), his face on the other hand… I mean, he does have a beautifully sculpted face and it looks rather perfect, don’t get me wrong, but he looks so angry with that deep frown between his brows and the mustache isn’t really my thing either. Kinda ruins his entire face, if I’m being honest. ‘Who are you?’ he asks, his voice monotone and already bored.

That is not a good start.

‘I’m Mia,’ I introduce myself with a smile, because smiles make people comfortable and this man does not look comfortable. ‘I live next door, in apartment 944. I brought you your mail.’ I extend my arm, so I can hand him the yellow envelope. ‘Thought it would be nice, since we’re neighbors after all.’

He rips the envelope out of my hand and is actually inspecting the seal on it. I am deeply offended. Why on earth would he think that low of me? As if I would snoop through other people’s mail.

After his thorough inspection, he looks at me again. His eyes take me in and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The shirt has a slight v neck and is that a tiny bit of chest hair I detect?

I’m almost expecting something condescending leaving his lips (he seems like the type), but A. Walker doesn’t say a word. He simply stares at me and now I kinda regret bringing his mail with me.

He looks and acts like an utter asshole.

‘What’s your name?’ I carefully ask him. Despite him looking like an absolute dick, I do think this is a man you might want to have on your good side. After all, he is my neighbor, I don’t want him to hate me, especially since from the looks of it this man can break me in half with just his pinky, which is intimidating on its own.

‘August Walker,’ he says, tilting his head, as he seems to scan my entire face. ‘Aren’t you that soccer player?’

Before I can even stop it, a smile breaks out on my face. I always like it when people acknowledge the fact that I’m a soccer player. I worked really hard to get where I am now and when people recognize me as that soccer player, it makes me happy. ‘I am,’ I say with an even brighter smile.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all…

‘I hate women’s soccer.’

I’m dumbfounded. Why on earth does he have to be so rude? What on earth did I do to him to deserve this? What a fucking dickhead. I can’t believe I was actually trying to make a good impression on him. Maybe I don’t want him to be on my good side. Maybe I sort of miss mister Toriello now, with his late night adventures with very noisy female customers. At least he was nice enough to bring me cookies every now and then, to apologize for the noise.

I highly doubt August Walker knows how to bake cookies, let alone buy some of them to apologize for the inconvenience, whatever that may be.

‘Why?’ I ask, as my expression falters.

‘It’s stupid,’ he simply states. To make it even worse, he adds a shrug, as if it’s a well known fact and not just some stupid opinion. ‘Not as advanced as male soccer.’

I frown, as I try to cover up the fact I’m deeply hurt. ‘Well, that’s okay. To each their own,’ I say to him. ‘If we are being frank here: I think your mustache is pretty stupid.’

He simply raises his eyebrows, while his eyes still look bored and annoyed. ‘You do?’ he asks me. ‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. It makes you look like a pedophile, really. Have a good day, mister Walker.’ I walk towards my own door and barge inside.

Who gave mister August Walker the right to be this rude to me, someone who he barely knows? What a piece of shit.

My big orange cat Bobo walks up to me and he starts to meow, pulling me out of my racing thoughts.

The hairy companion makes me instantly forget about my new neighbor. ‘Hi, Bobo,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I missed you too, little fella.’ I place the bags on the floor, before I lift him up, to press tons of kisses on his head. He purrs in my ear. ‘I bought you some food, so that means you can finally stop putting your head in my bowl and be a decent cat from now on.’

‘Meow.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x soccer player #henry cavill x mia makaruku #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #august walker x ofc #august walker #august walker x asian ofc #august walker x oc #august walker x mia makaruku #mia makaruku #asian ofc

83 notes · View notes