#i was gonna draw another one that was him third wheeling me and my friend but i got fucking lazy

[mildcicada]

[lxkeee]

Honestly i love azrael,[name] and francis smm.I know [name] is self insert but i just love [name] smm rahh like when i had begin to draw arts for ya alot these past days if i am gonna be honest ngl

And i really wanna share my arts with ya but cannot bc i have to be at school for 12 hours☠️☠️😭😭🙏

Like i'm not in college or anything but this school has me dying💔

Btw i have some lore and headcanons to share with ya😈😈🫶

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

So as far as we know [name] have to check the healthy and unhealthy one right?

So what if when she overworks too much and begin to become quite unhealthy it corrupt her?

Basically what i'm trying to say is that the sevens can get corrupted by the other meanings of their job.And [name] was the first to get corrupted.. And the corruption can be only healed by full rest and slumber sleep or the corrupted one have to seal the corruption away with a spell.

The reason [name] hides her other eye with her hair is bc her eye was quite corrupted so that's why she hides her other eye with her hair.

This corruption can just control or just destroy the one they are corrupting.But [name]'s corruption were trying to full strings on her body like trying to control but ofc she did the right thing but the corruption still wonders around her mind as when she is thinking the corruption will just annoy [name]

This oddly sounds like a frickinf mlp infection au help😭😭☠️☠️🙏

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

Headcanons thehe:3

First of all francis would be often with azrael and will stuck with him for weeks.Francis supports [name] usual but in letters since he is in the earth with azrael.

I think how [name] shows affection and her love for the people she loves are gift-giving like after when lucifer fell she didn't liked giving physical touch such as hugs or kisses on cheek/forhead.She often buys expensive gifts or her beloved people's favorite stuff with letter or note inside.

Francis and azrael sometimes flirt and do couple stuff in front of [name] bc they wanna annoy her.And [name] kinda at first didn't care but as times went by she got annoyed alot.And one time she even like were gonna snap at the two

[Name] wears whatever she had seen in earth and kinda gives few of them to the sevens and francis,emily.

[Name] and micheal drink coffee alot expext [name] stopped bc it was ruining her mental health but micheal didn't stop☠️💔

[Name] and francis would ignore azrael as revenge for annoying them alot.Which azrael don't really like😜

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

That's it for now😈🫶💗

I'm in class😭💔

Bye!<3

Have amazing day/evening/night<

I was actually thinking about the seven or the angels assigned on earth would eventually get corrupted by the sins or evil that is present there. Originally, I was thinking of their corruption like the one in noragami? When exposed to so much evil it would slowly corrupt them, making them sick and weird eyes would grow on their bodies of sorts and the few ways they can heal themselves are by cleansing themselves with holy water or if push comes to shove, like already borderline dangerous... Then a spell, a spell to separate the evil corrupting the angel. It has to be done by other angels as they need to lock the corrupted angel in a prison of sorts anddd forcefully separates the evil from the angel's body which could be very painful.

Also, yesss... Physical affections are one of her love languages and she often wears fashion that humans wear as she gets influenced by them and sometimes she gifts other of her close angel friends clothes too! [Y/n] and Michael often bonded over their need for coffee to function but she had to stop as it was making her go insane as she gets hyper lmao. Besides, she values her sleep. Poor girl just sleeps her problems away 😔

Trios never worked as she ends up being third wheel whenever Azrael and Francis flirts with one another 💀

[error404vnotfound]

rant incoming because i am. so tired.

so. my best friend has had this crush on another girl from our high school friend group since forever. she told her about it like 2 years ago, not for them to start dating, just so she knew. no expectations no nothing. a few weeks ago they talked about it all again because the other girl had been saying some things and acting in a way that were upsetting to my friend. to no one's surprise, she likes my friend back. they agreed to stay friends tho

thing is, every time we met up before, be it us three or all five of us, it was pretty plain there was something going on in there. me and the other two guys had very third wheeling vibes on us.

after they talked this last time, it's gotten downright unbearable. if we hang all together it's just them two in their little bubble and count yourself lucky if they remember there's more people around.

I'm not very close to the two guys, and I don't particularly like the other girl either. so I've been declining to hang up with them all as a group more and more. I don't particularly like hanging out with more than one person at a time anyways, and I'm not gonna make the effort to be uncomfortable and sad because I can't even have one conversation with my friend

now, onto why I am. so tired.

the other girl wanted to go to a museum/exhibition/zoo in the city. they decided to go. I wasn't, at first, because I knew what it would be like. but then the other girl was like "no, you passed on coming last time we hung up, it's been so long since I've seen you!" and my friend told me that she wanted me to come because "we would have fun" and "it wouldn't be the same without me"

so I said I'd go. and if what I thought was going to happen, were to happen I could just be my little autistic self and wander around drawing animal skulls and turtles fighting

and yeah. it was as bad as I thought it'd be. on the bus they talked just them two, as we walked there, more of the same. as soon as we got in they both went off and left us three behind. if my friend by some miracle found me, the other girl would drag her away to look at something she wanted to look at, and even if my friend complained about it, she didn't struggle against being walked away

okay. well. can't say I'm surprised. I filled 4 pages of my sketchbook and talked to a polish family for a while (one of their kids saw me drawing and i showed him what I'd done. he then asked his mom for a notebook and pen and started drawing the fish and turtles I was also drawing. that little kid made the day worth it, ngl).

then we had lunch on a park. and yeah, more of the same. we almost missed the bus back because of them too. (and of course on the actual bus it was much the same as the whole day had been. worse even. I tried to drown the sound of their talking with my headphones and was half successful)

and it's like. look. date or don't, I couldn't care less, but if we hang up as a friend group, we hang as a friend group. it was just so uncomfortable when we were all together because it would be them two aggressively cuddling or hugging or holding hands and saying veiled comments to each other and just. deeply uncomfortable. third wheeling to the fucking top

and somehow. somehow. this wasn't the worst. I said at the beginning that I don't particularly like the other girl. I have some reasons which are a me problem, her personality just doesn't agree much with mine. fine, I'll live

but then I have other reasons, mainly that since forever she has been playing cat and mouse with one of the other guys (who very obviously likes her). she'll flirt and say things to him. and the poor guy tries and tries but it's a lost cause and we all seem to know it except him. but then, for the past two years, she has been doing the same to my friend. she'd flirt, or say things, or do things, that were obviously done in not a platonic way. (which upset my friend because she'd told her how she felt about her, and the other girl kept on playing with both my friend's feelings and the guy's). has she stopped? not at fucking all, with either of them

my friend and the guy can barely hold a conversation now without one of them provoking the other with annoying or veiled comments. for the guy it's embarrassing, and my friend is honestly behaving like a little shit (derrogatory)

there's no actual conclusion to this thing. im just tired of it all. as if friendships weren't complicated enough already now we gotta deal with this mess too. needless to say, I won't be saying yes to hang out as a group for a while, and certainly not for a whole fucking day

worst thing is, I think, that they both don't even realize what they are doing (to the guy, yes, I mean to me and the other guy). because the other girl hugged me goodbye and told me to hang up with them again (bestie you barely exchanged two words with me today), and my friend did say "it wouldn't be the same without me" but girl you didn't even bother to talk to me

they two probably had a great time, and like, good for them. just next time maybe don't drag the rest of us on your date

[brinkle-brackle]

Thank yall so much @mjf-af @cheriboms and @alex-a-fans for tagging me!!! This is gonna be a fun one :D

This year:

1. How many times would you guess you watched the first Back to the Future movie?

I think around twice!! Once in a hotel room and once at a friend's house for labor day, plus the last 7-ish minutes when we found it on TV in another hotel room over Thanksgiving break :D

2. Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

YESSS I DID!!!!! My dad gave me a Hot Wheels DeLorean from the third movie for Christmas, and my bf gave me a Doc and Einstein funko pop that I'd been losing my mind over 😭 those off the top of my head, I'm sure I bought myself some other things that just aren't coming to mind lol

3. How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

I don't think any,, I'm more of a regular pepsi enjoyer myself

4. What was your favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

In all honesty I didn't read much fanfic this year, but it was always a pleasure to read @bg-sparrow's mcflyjuly and doctober drabbles!

5. A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

Ohh jeez I cannot choose just one so here are...

^^ this one from @cineshemp, the colors and lighting of this piece are so pretty (and it's true to life too!! I live a few hours away from the actual mall where they filmed and the sunset there looks so similar to this), and both Marty's pose and expression are so on point it's crazy. Like the cheeky little half-grin?? That's him. That's his spitting image. That's so him that's my Marty McFly <33

^^ this one from @fiddlstyx, I love this one because 1) just fiddl's art style in general is so cute, and 2) because this is so true to the scene! Fiddl nailed Marty's spooked expression, and the hand vibrates my brain so good. Both the shape of the hand (I struggle so hard with drawing hands lmao) and also especially the transparent effect, which is hella impressive to me on its own but on top of that it's traditional art,,, I would've struggled so hard to achieve that effect on paper so this totally blew me away!!

^^ and finally this one from @cheriboms!! I absolutely loved the perspective and expression on this one, I adore how cartoony it is :D cheri is somehow always able to draw doc looking incredibly doc-like while simultaneously making him look entirely her own (same goes for Marty too) and it never ceases to amaze me. This fandom is filled with such incredibly talented people and I'm so lucky to be friends with them <33

^^ OH OH AND!! THIS MARTY THAT MY BESTIE @goldendoodlerlockerlove DREW ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY TODAY :))) THE SEROTONIN I GOT WHEN I OPENED MY PHONE TO SEE THIS SILLY GUY

6. Did you create any bttf art or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

I did!! I didn't draw or write a whole lot of bttf stuff this year, I only did a few small things but I'll link em anyway cause I'm still proud of em :)

^^ the one mcflyjuly prompt I had the time and energy to do!! I based this fic off of a few episodes of the 90s cartoon iteration of The Moomins. The episodes I based this off of are about a child who turns invisible because of her bad family life (Marty's circumstances in this fic aren't as severe, but he's still Going Theroux It™️). I wrote this a little angsty throughout but with some hurt/comfort at the end,, and I really love how it turned out :)

^^ and then this is I think the one piece of bttf fanart that I drew the whole year 😂 just a lil Marty I drew on a to-go cup during my work shift. I'm very proud of him tho I feel like he's very Marty-y :D

7. How many times were you late for school this year?

Uhh not very often!! I think I showed up a little late to maybe 3ish classes? Which isn't too bad haha

8. Did you watch any other movies/TV shows with BTTF actors in them?

Yep! I watched Clue (1985) for the first time which had Christopher Lloyd, then had one one of my friends watch Star Trek III: The Search For Spock with me which I actually forgot had Christopher Lloyd as the main villain 😂 my college friends and I also watched Over the Garden Wall twice in the fall (Elijah Wood voicing Wirt and Christopher Lloyd voicing the Woodsman), and then my family and I watched Elf on Christmas day which had Mary Steenburgen :)

9. Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

I don't think anything really groundbreaking, just a few times when I was in a store and one came on and I started jamming haha

10. How many times did you fall down this year?

Probably a lot but the only moment I can immediately recall was eating it hard on the residence hall stairway right after saying goodbye to my parents for the semester LMAO 😭

11. Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

Sadly no, although I really want to 🥲 I still gotta look up the clip from the Thanksgiving day parade that I missed!

12. How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

Mmm probably around 3-5? But it was never really the same retelling,, it was more like she just told me new details or stories about when they were dating. It's always really sweet :)

13. If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

"Ah, wait a minute, wait a minute Doc--" (this year moved WAY too fast lmao)

14. ⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a DeLorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

15. Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

I'm gonna try to make more of an effort in my classes, and I'm hoping to expand more upon a play I started writing for class last semester! It was initially just for the assignment but now I've gotten attached to the characters and I have a little lore down so who knows >:D

Gonna be honest I have no clue who to tag lmao. I feel like a lot of the people I know have probably been tagged already so! If anyone else sees this and wants to do it feel free to :D and thank you so much @mjf-af for making this game, I had a blast doing it!!

BTTF Year-End Tag Game!

This year:

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

How many times were you late for school this year?

Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

How many times did you fall down this year?

Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

I tag: @agentmcfly24601 @moonlightandstarshimmer @brinkle-brackle @bg-sparrow @bttf-dork @mrfutureboy @pepsifox88 @tsukinikawatteus @itsthemorph @synthsays and anyone who would like to answer these questions! as always, no pressure!

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 06

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.4k [6/6]

notes: we’ve reached the end at last!!! thanks for sticking around through all the sporadic updates, and i hope you enjoy this final chapter!

warnings: some soft, soft smut.

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

The day before your scheduled return to Seoul, your parents decide to throw a joint party with the Jeons. From your bedroom window, you can see the plastic tables and chairs scattered across your adjoining lawns, the tarps and poles that will soon become makeshift pavilions lying in the grass. Though a row of low bushes divides your property, a small stone footpath weaves between the green leaves. You watch Mr. Jeon make his way into your yard, joining your father to unfurl a sign that’s emblazoned with Bon Voyage, {Name}! in bright blue print.

“Noona!” Jimin bursts into your bedroom with zero preamble, the door slamming into the wall behind it. You jump at the sudden intrusion, and flinch when he bounds across the room in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders.

“Ow, Chim,” you grumble, trying and failing to push him away. “Knock much?”

“Help,” he whines, trying to pull you to your feet. “I put too much salt in the marinade, and I just spilled Coke all over the counter. Please come help me.”

You sigh as he casts you the most pathetic look he’s capable of mustering, complete with a quivering bottom lip. Wiggling out of his iron grip at last, you grab him by the wrist and drag him out of your room. “Fine,” you tell him as you pull him downstairs. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

“Love you too!” Jimin singsongs. He swoops in to plant a too-wet kiss on your cheek, and when you squirm in disgust he just giggles and blows you another.

The kitchen, upon your arrival, is empty. “Where’s Mom?” you ask as you grab a rag, tossing it over to your brother so he can clean up the spilled soda.

“She left a few minutes ago,” he replies, sopping up the mess and flinching when some splashes down from the counter onto the linoleum floor. “I think she went to the store to pick up a few things.”

“Food things?” you ask dubiously, eyeing the sizable pile of vegetables and meat on the counter. “Is this not enough? Is the entire neighborhood invited to this thing?”

“You know Mom,” he replies, shrugging. “Just let her have this. She misses having another girl in the house when you’re away. Says Dad and I gang up on her.”

You chuckle. “That sounds about right. On the bright side, though, she only has to deal with you for a few more months.”

“Jeez, that’s weird to think about.” Jimin sidles up behind you and settles his chin on your shoulder. “We’re going to be at the same university soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re a little copycat,” you tease, reaching back to flick him on the forehead. “What’s next? Are you going to start following me around the sandbox again? Come crying to me when someone’s mean to you?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin steps back and puffs his chest out dramatically. “I’m going to protect you from all those weird college guys, remember? Who else is gonna do it if not me?”

In an instant, your mind goes to Jungkook. Your throat goes dry, and thankfully the jingle of keys in the front door saves you from needing to respond. Jimin’s attention is diverted when your mother steps through with an armful of shopping bags, and you take a moment to shove away all thoughts of your neighbor before following after your brother to help her unpack.

You haven’t seen much of Jungkook since your impromptu sleepover in his room. As your time at home winds to a close, your parents have been increasingly adamant to spend as much time together as possible. Family game nights became routine, and although Jungkook has joined you on a couple occasions, Jimin has seemingly made it his personal goal to ensure that you don’t spend a single second alone with your dark-haired neighbor. Certainly, you’ve texted a bit, but Jungkook’s been picking up more shifts at the restaurant lately and you often see him through your bedroom window returning home after a long dinner shift.

Jimin’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you ask, blinking, and your brother shoots you an unimpressed look.

“I said, I’m going out back to help Dad with the grill,” he repeats. “Can you bring the cooler out?”

“Oh!” You glance over at the cooler on the ground, filled to the brim with beer and soda. Jimin has a bag of ice in his arms, and you quickly follow him out into the backyard, wheeling the cooler behind you. Together, the two of you push it into an unobtrusive corner of the back porch, and Jimin curses when he upends the bag of ice into it and spills nearly a third in the process.

“Smooth,” you remark.

“Like you could do any better,” is his reply.

It’s just after one o’clock, the sun beaming bright in the cloudless blue sky, when people begin trickling into the backyard where your father and Mr. Jeon have started grilling. You spot Taemin and Minho from where you’re perched on the porch steps, and grin when they wave and begin heading in your direction.

“Heading back to the big city so soon?” Minho asks as he comes to a stop, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”

“You know you’re always welcome to visit,” you tell him with a smile. “Besides, I’ll be back. I do like to see my family every now and then, you know.”

“When exactly are you leaving tomorrow? Taemin asks curiously.

“Bright and early in the morning,” you reply. “I want to have plenty of time to get settled before I start interning on Monday.”

Minho gives you a squeeze. “You’ll kill it. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You’re about to say more—ask about the rest of their summer plans, maybe—when you spot a familiar dark head of hair exiting the back door of the Jeons’ house. Jungkook is wearing a collared shirt the color of sunshine, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. His faded jeans have a rip in the left knee, and you swallow when your gaze automatically trails down to the defined muscle of his thigh, a peek of skin visible through the denim.

Across the yard, your eyes meet. He raises a hand in greeting, his watch glinting in the sun, and you wave back. Everything else seems to fade into the background—Taemin and Minho, the hubbub of the partygoers, even the sizzle of the grill. Jungkook is walking in your direction now, and your throat goes oddly dry at the thought of talking to him face-to-face after nearly a week of intermittent texts and occasional glimpses. Your fingers itch to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and your body craves the feeling of his skin against your own. You’d even settle for a simple kiss—the press of his mouth and the slick of his tongue, his palms settling on your hips or looping around to the small of your back to pull you in close.

Needless to say, it’s been far too long since you and Jungkook last slept together. You wonder, vaguely, if there’s any way the two of you might be able to sneak away from the party and head somewhere a little quieter. One last handsy makeout session in his backseat, and one last chance for him to breach your walls with his cock. One last fix of the drug called Jungkook, before you return to your life in Seoul and try to forget the boundaries you’ve crossed in the last few weeks.

Because at the end of the day, Jungkook is your brother’s best friend, and therefore is off-limits. And as if Jimin himself is listening in on your thoughts, your little brother comes bounding out of nowhere, intercepting Jungkook on his path to you and dragging him away to help make more meat skewers for the grill.

The party continues. More people arrive, and you do your best to converse with everyone between bites of food. Many family friends have come out to wish you well, most of whom you haven’t seen in several years, so you put on your best smile and weather the innumerable comments about how much you’ve grown up since you last met. Off in the distance, you spot Jungkook chatting with Junghyun, who has driven in from downtown Busan. The elder Jeon brother has already wished you good luck with your internship, pulling you into a friendly hug when he first arrived, and you would’ve had to be blind to miss Jungkook’s penetrating stare as you hugged him back.

You’re returning from a bathroom break, easing the back door shut, when you are assailed by a tangle of limbs and excited cries. You end up with a faceful of strawberry blonde hair, and laughingly groan as you extricate yourself from the hug, offering a beaming Chaeyoung, Jisoo, and Lisa a grin. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Lisa grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a little shake. “You’re leaving tomorrow! When will you be back again?”

“Winter, definitely,” you promise. “Maybe the summer too, if I don’t have anything else going on.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook again. He’s looking in your direction, his gaze flitting between the half-eaten burger in his hand and where you’re standing on the back porch with the girls, as if he doesn’t want to get caught staring. The party has been underway for nearly two hours now, and you haven’t even come close to having a conversation with your dark-haired neighbor. It seems as though anytime Jungkook comes within speaking distance, he’s interrupted by friends, family, and at one point, even his family’s dog. Gureum has been a part of Jungkook’s family for as long as you can remember, and though he’s getting rather old, he’s still happily meandering around the yard today. You’ve already given in to his pleading face twice and offered him a bit of food from your plate, and you’ve watched plenty of others do the same. A quick scan of the yard reveals that the little white dog is now fast asleep in a sunny patch of grass, and you chuckle to yourself before your gaze finds Jungkook again. Your eyes meet, just for a second.

“{Name}, honey, can you come here for a second?”

You turn at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Sure,” you tell her, excusing yourself from the group of girls to follow her inside to the kitchen. “What is it?”

Your mom hands you a pile of small paper plates and plastic cutlery. “I’m bringing out the cake,” she says. “Can you put those out for me?”

You nod, watching as she picks up the cake. It’s an impressive two-tiered confection, frosted pale purple and decorated with pink cherry blossoms and the words Bon Voyage! in flowing white script. You make sure to hold the door open for your mother as she exits the house on your heels, and duck your head in embarrassment when a few of your neighbors start clapping at your arrival.

The cake is cut and distributed, and you take your piece over to a shady spot beneath the awning of one of the pavilions your father has assembled. Jimin joins you, wiping a frosting-covered finger on your nose, and you squeal and wipe at it furiously with a napkin before taking revenge. Slowly, the afternoon progresses into early evening, and the party begins to wind to a close. Friends and neighbors begin to trickle out, wishing you well before taking their leave. At the far end of the yard, you see Jungkook talking to Chaeyoung, and wonder what the two could possibly have to say to each other before Taemin and Minho draw your attention away.

“We gotta head out,” Minho says, coming to a stop before you and pulling you into a hug.

Taemin nods, tugging you into an embrace as well. “We’ll see you again soon though, yeah? We’re definitely going to come up to visit you guys at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you tell him. “You’re crashing at Jimin and Jungkook’s though. I’m not taking you in.”

“Cruel, but fair,” Minho says with a laugh. “See ya then, Noona.”

“See you.”

The two depart, and you begin gathering up your used utensils and plates, seeking about for a trash can. You smile at your dad as he walks by, and scratch a sleepy Gureum behind the ears as you pass him. Just as you’ve finally found a trash can and dropped your garbage inside, however, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, Noona.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Slowly, you turn around, coming face to face with none other than Jungkook himself. His dark hair is ruffled by the breeze, and his silver hoop earrings glint in the late afternoon sun. Tentatively, you offer him a small smile, and he hesitates for a moment before smiling back.

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” you point out, trying to quell the sudden nervousness in your belly and swallowing down whatever moisture is left in your mouth. “Fun party, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Really fun. And the food was great.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. We have our dads to thank for that.”

“Definitely.”

A beat of silence passes, and then two. Jungkook is scuffing his heel against the grass, one hand darting up to scratch his ear, and you are just beginning to wonder at his uncharacteristic awkwardness when he suddenly pulls a bag from behind his back.

“Here,” he says, practically shoving it into your hands. “I—I mean, we��got you a gift. From my family. And me.”

Blinking, you peer down at the green tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag. “Oh, wow. You… you guys really shouldn’t have.”

“It was my mom’s idea,” Jungkook mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “You can open it now if you want, though.”

You do. Peeling back the tissue paper reveals two items inside—one of which is a lovely leather-bound planner, complete with a calendar and to-do lists and pages for notes. The other is a small canvas, and your mouth falls open when you see what’s painted across the surface.

It’s the lake house. Behind it, you can see lush green hills and trees, all bordering the rippling expanse of blue water. Jungkook has captured the scene at high noon when the sun is at its peak in the sky, glinting off the lake like diamonds. Off to one side, you spot the canoe roped to the dock.

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck. “Jungkook, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. “I had to rush it a little, between work and all. It could’ve been better.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, running a fingertip across the canvas. You’ve always known that Jungkook has a talent for drawing, but you’ve never seen him use paint as his medium of choice until now. “Really. I love it, Jungkook. I’m going to hang it up in my dorm as soon as I get back.”

“Back,” Jungkook echoes. “Right.”

And before you can reply—before you can even inhale to speak—he’s pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms looping around your waist and settling there.

“Good luck with everything,” he says once he’s pulled back. And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, and you’re left to wonder whether these past few weeks were simply a passing tryst after all.

///

As it turns out, your internship is more than enough to keep your mind from straying toward a certain dark-haired young man. Two months after Jungkook left you high and dry, you’re working harder than you ever have in your life. Your mornings are early and your afternoons run into evenings more often than not. “At least you’re getting paid, though,” Namjoon points out, glancing up from where he’s sitting on the couch when you stumble into your shared dorm one particularly late night. “You could’ve been one of the unlucky bastards who got stuck doing unpaid labor at their internships.”

“Oh, good. At least they’re working me to the bone ethically,” you snort, accepting the wine he hands over. Trust Namjoon to have an extra glass at the ready. Your suitemate, despite his flaws, always seems to know when you need a pick-me-up, and you suppose you can forgive his clumsiness and messiness for that. If he keeps it up, you may even start looking past the heart attacks he causes you every time he enters the kitchen and so much as looks at a knife.

Namjoon chuckles and tops off his own wineglass. “So now what? You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit. “What are you thinking tonight? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Thai? I’ve been craving it lately.”

“I can do Thai.” You lean in closer as he pulls up the delivery menu on his laptop, pointing to what you want before sitting back and letting him place the order. “Can you get me an iced tea, too?

“Two iced teas, coming right up,” he replies. “You wanna start thinking about tonight’s feature presentation?”

Flopping onto your side, you reach into the bag you dropped on the floor and fish out your own laptop. You select a film from Netflix as Namjoon fetches his wallet to pay for your food, and the two of you settle in to wait as the opening credits of Disney’s Hercules roll.

“I’m not a good singer,” Namjoon cautions as the Muses begin their introductory monologue. “I just want you to know that beforehand. But out of all the Disney films? This soundtrack is unmatched.”

“Damn right,” you reply, clinking your glass against his. “Best soundtrack ever. We’ll both sound like dying cats, and I for one can’t wait.”

Namjoon laughs and leans over to flick off the lights. The room goes dark and the music begins, and you’re both singing along before you even hit the chorus. Spending time with Namjoon is comfortable, and though you’ve already lived together through the entirety of your first year of school, these past two summer months have strengthened your friendship tenfold. He’s almost like a brother by this point, and you wonder, vaguely, whether Jimin would get along with him anywhere near as well as you do.

As if summoned, your phone goes off. Jimin’s name lights up your screen, and you frown curiously at it before unlocking the device and swiping open the message.

[7:56pm] Chimchim: miss me yet? 😚

[7:56pm] You: no way, weirdo

[7:57pm] You: what do you even want anyway? sure you’re not the one missing me?

Immediately, your phone buzzes with a response.

[7:57pm] Chimchim: seriously? offensive

[7:57pm} Chimchim: orientation’s in less than a week or have u forgotten already?? good thing i’m reminding u

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you realize that you had, in fact, forgotten. You remember your own college orientation vividly—a jam-packed weekend filled with building tours and ample opportunities to talk to current students. Several of your friends, you’d first met that weekend as you all tried to navigate a new chapter of your lives—Namjoon included. It’s how the two of you ended up living together—jammed into a suite with two others who thankfully meshed perfectly with the both of you. Neither Hoseok nor Jennie are here for the summer, but you’ve kept in touch while apart. Both of them poke relentless fun at Namjoon for opting to take summer classes, and you never hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing.

[7:58pm] You: oh yeah lol

Your response is casual and calm, but your heart rate is anything but. Jimin coming to orientation means Jungkook is coming too, and the thought of seeing him sends an anxious flurry of butterflies aflight in your stomach. You remember texting him the day after you came back—just a simple photo of his painting, hung proudly on the wall above your desk. He responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis, and that had been that. You’ve barely heard a word from him since, and Jimin’s occasional texts and social media posts are the only reason you know he’s still alive. Hesitantly, you type out another message, thumb hovering briefly over the send button before hitting it.

[7:58pm] You: you and jungkook are driving up, right?

[7:59pm] Chimchim: yep! road trip

[7:59pm] Chimchim: still not convinced jk’s car will make it all the way tho lmao

You think back to Jungkook’s beat-up sedan with its sputtering engine and scratchy seats, and the ominous way the passenger side window sometimes rattled if you slammed the door too hard. Can’t blame you for having doubts, you write back, earning yourself a hearty LMAOOO in response. And then:

[8:01pm] Chimchim: i’ll probably have to do most of the driving anyway

You frown, brows furrowing. Why’s that?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just a hunch. jk’s been weird lately

[8:02pm] You: …weird how?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just weird. a little distracted, maybe? he doesn’t answer me when i ask him whats wrong

[8:03pm] You: how long has he been weird?

[8:03pm} Chimchim: idk 🤷‍♂️

[8:03pm] Chimchim: 2 days, maybe 3? i think he might be worried about orientation or college or something. either way i don’t trust him to operate a motor vehicle rn

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth as you consider your brother’s revelation. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous about something new, but you still can’t help but wonder if Jungkook’s strange behavior might have anything to do with seeing you again. But before you can dwell on it more, your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[8:04pm] Chimchim: i mean srsly he didn’t even hit on mina when we ran into her at jin’s the other day. do u remember her? the girl from the bbq place we went to for grad dinner??

[8:04pm] Chimchim: but on the bright side, it looks like he and chae made up. about time, tbh. things were really awkward for a while

[8:05pm] Chimchim: wait u knew about them, right? they dated for a while?

You take a deep breath before responding, the gears of your brain whirring as you fight to process all of the information he’s dumped on you. Yeah, you write back. Chae told me. They’re okay now?

[8:06pm] Chimchim: yeah. i think they talked at your going away thing

The memory of them chatting in your parents’ backyard resurfaces, and a rush of relief follows it. Even though your conversation with Chaeyoung at the mall confirmed that she was no longer angry with Jungkook, the guilt of sneaking around with him continued to linger in the back of your mind. You’re definitely going to buy her a box of cookies from Kim’s Kitchen as an apology the next time you see her. Maybe even two.

After a few more texts, your conversation with Jimin peters out. He signs off, citing a house party he has to start getting ready for, and you settle back in to watch the rest of the movie with Namjoon, smiling reassuringly when he shoots you a curious look and mouths, everything okay?

Everything is okay, you decide. Jungkook’s weird behavior isn’t your problem, and there’s not a whole lot you could do even if you wanted to, considering how little you’ve spoken in the last eight weeks. That doesn’t stop you from opening up your messages and scrolling down to Jungkook’s name, though. It doesn’t stop you from opening up the last conversation you had—something about a particularly annoying customer at Jin’s restaurant—and scrutinizing every word.

Later that night, just as you’re brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes again. The name attached to the text immediately sends your heart into your throat, and you shakily towel off your hands before swiping it open.

[12:25am] Jungkook: i mis s yuo.

Drunk, the little voice in your brain whispers. He’s drunk. Belatedly, you remember the party Jimin had mentioned, and realize that Jungkook must be there as well. Alcohol has clearly loosened him up, enough to instigate this unexpected sentiment, but you are painfully sober. At a loss, you stare at his message until your screen goes dark. Irritably, you wake it up again, unlocking the phone so you can stare some more, and after what feels like an eternity, you type out a response.

[12: 28am] You: drink some water, jungkook

He doesn’t respond. You wait for five minutes, and then ten, but your phone screen remains obstinately dark and devoid of new notifications. Climbing into bed, you check one last time, but there’s still no response from him.

A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you turn off your bedside lamp and plug in your phone to charge. Sinking down into the mattress, you push away all thoughts of Jeon Jungkook as you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.

///

On Friday night, you once again find yourself working late. Thankfully, Jimin and Jungkook aren’t due to arrive until later in the evening, so you still have plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and eat something before you have to play host.

Or at least, that’s what you thought. When you swing open the front door of your home, however, you’re greeted by two extra pairs of shoes—one of which is a certain individual’s signature black Timberlands, scuffed and worn from years of use. “Joonie?” you call cautiously, toeing off your loafers and skirting around the corner to poke your head into the kitchen. “Are you home?”

No reply. You wander a little further, entering the living room, and that’s where you’re greeted by the sight of your suitemate, his sheepish grin flanked on either side by two very familiar faces.

“Noona!” Jimin is grinning from ear to ear, and immediately skips forward to smoosh your cheeks between his palms. “We got here early!”

You slap his hands away and poke your fingertips into his ribs. “I can see that,” you retort. “What I don’t get is why you didn't bother to tell me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Surprise?”

You sigh and turn instead to Namjoon, who’s watching your exchange with an amused smile. “Thanks for getting them settled in,” you tell him gratefully. “You should’ve called me, though. I would’ve tried to get off work early if I’d known.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waves you off. “They got here about half an hour ago, so it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

“Still, let me thank you,” you insist. “Dinner’s on me tonight, since I have to feed these heathens anyway. Do you want to order something in? Go out?”

“I’m okay either way,” Namjoon says, shrugging, and you turn to Jimin and Jungkook questioningly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jimin says. “I think we’re both pretty tired from the drive, so staying in might be nice.”

“Anything’s fine.” Jungkook is staring down at his right hand as if he’s trying to crack a secret code etched in his fingerprints, and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Whatever you want, Noona.”

You haven’t forgotten about his text from a few days ago, and judging by the way he can’t even look you in the eye, neither has he. It’s strange seeing him here now—wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt like he so often does, his feet encapsulated in plain white socks. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, leaving only the barest glimpse of his silver earrings visible beneath the dark, shaggy locks. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it, but quickly quash that train of thought before it can progress any further.

The group eventually settles on ordering pizza, which you order and pay for on your phone. Conversation flows easily as Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon get to know each other, and when the food arrives, Namjoon pulls out his collection of board games. The remainder of the evening passes in a haze of pizza and game tournaments, and it’s only when midnight has come and gone that you decide to call it a night. Jungkook and Jimin settle into the two empty bedrooms—Jungkook in Hoseok’s and Jimin in Jennie’s—and you bid everyone goodnight before retiring to your own bed.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on your retreating figure, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’ll be busy with all the orientation events scheduled tomorrow, and you’re planning to spend a good chunk of the day running errands that you don’t have time for on weekdays. The question of why he’d texted you that night remains on your mind, but you don’t want to ask. And you especially don’t want to ask why he’d never responded after that first message. Confrontation has never been your style, and with any luck, you’ll be able to avoid spending extended periods of time with him altogether.

With any luck, this weekend will pass with no further incident, and you’ll be able to spend the remaining few weeks of your summer in peace.

///

It’s just after two o’clock in the afternoon when you return to your dormitory, a grocery bag clutched in each hand and a tote bag draped over one shoulder. You’ve finished up with all your errands for the day, and even managed to get some reading done for one of your upcoming fall classes. Dropping your bags in the kitchen, you stretch your arms overhead lazily before starting to unpack your groceries. Namjoon is holed up in the library working on an essay, and Jimin and Jungkook don’t appear to be around either. A moment of rare quiet is welcome in your normally hectic life, and you take the opportunity to put some music on and change into your comfiest shorts and a tank top.

You’ve just finished popping some popcorn and are settling onto your bed to watch some Netflix when someone clears their throat from your doorway. Startled, you look up, your eyes locking on Jungkook standing there. He’s wearing a loose gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and you swallow when you see the way he’s rolled up the sleeves to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. Jungkook blinks at you silently from behind his dark fringe of hair, and a beat passes before he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey.”

You straighten up into a seated position, crossing your legs and plopping the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Hi.”

Jungkook hesitates, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “Can… can we talk?”

“Sure.” You incline your head. “Talk.”

Your curt tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Awkwardly, he shuffles his feet for a moment before scratching behind his neck and ruffling his already tousled hair further. “My phone died,” he says, and you blink confusedly at him, twice, before responding.

“What?”

Jungkook winces but presses on nonetheless. “My phone,” he explains. “It died the other night. I was going to charge it before the party, but I forgot to plug it in and then it was too late. I didn’t—” He sighs. “I would’ve texted you back, otherwise.”

Belatedly, you realize he’s talking about his text from a few nights ago and why he never responded. His reasoning is relatively sound, at least, but you still have an unanswered question. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft. “Why did you text me that night? I don’t hear from you for weeks, and then you message me that out of the blue? Why?”

“Fuck, I know.” Jungkook takes two steps into your bedroom, before he seemingly thinks better of it and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve texted you more, or earlier, but—” Another sigh, and this time he rakes his hands through his hair and sends his dangling earrings tinkling. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being a coward, and…”

Jungkook trails off, and you see that his attention has flitted elsewhere. He’s staring at the painting of the lake house, still displayed prominently above your desk, and you see the gears in his head whirring before he speaks again.

“You… you still have that hanging up there?”

You glance at the painting before looking back at him. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. It reminds me of home.”

It reminds you of him, too, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud. Instead you turn your attention back to your increasingly fidgety companion, leaning back on your hands and regarding him with your head tilted curiously.

“What were you saying about being a coward? What are you afraid of, Jungkook?”

Jungkook rubs his jaw and sucks in a deep breath. “You,” he finally answers, after several beats that feel like several lifetimes. “I’m afraid of losing you. And I feel like I already might have, especially since we left things so weird at the party. I should’ve…” He shakes his head. ”I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you how I really feel, but I was stupid and scared and I just couldn’t find the right time to do it.”

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry and your chest feels tight, and when you try to speak, your tongue feels like sandpaper. “I—” you begin, and it’s all you manage to get out. Jungkook is murmuring your name in a voice so gentle that your heart skips two whole beats, and when you look at him again he is much, much closer than before.

“But I guess late is better than never, right?” Jungkook breathes. Stopping at the edge of your bed, he drops to his knees, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands and cups them protectively between his own. “It’s you, {Name}. It’s always been you. I tried to forget about my feelings when you left for Seoul—tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush—but nothing I did worked. I couldn’t forget about you. And then you came back, and I just knew.” Gently, he traces a fingertip across your knuckles before looking up and meeting your gaze in earnest. “I’m in love with you, {Name}. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And… and I really hope that I haven’t fucked everything up by telling you this now.”

“You—” Your voice sticks in your throat, and you swallow thickly before trying again. “You haven’t. I… I like you, Jungkook. I like you so, so much, and I think I owe you an apology for trying to push you away so much. It’s just that these feelings… they’re so new. And I—well, I don’t know if I love you yet, but I think that I definitely could.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” he replies, his face stretching into a wide, crinkly eyed grin. “As long as you agree to be my girlfriend, and let me have the chance to make you fall for me.” And when you nod, giggling, Jungkook leans in and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and lasts several moments before a sobering thought enters your head. You break away, frowning, and Jungkook’s brow furrows as he takes in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, worrying at the delicate skin. “This… thing. This relationship—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, god, you’re Jimin’s best friend in the entire world. What if we have an argument? What if—what if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Jungkook replies confidently, lacing his fingers with yours before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours affectionately. Instinct has you leaning into him, seeking out proper contact, and you feel his lips curl into a smile as he indulges you with yet another kiss.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you murmur when you break apart, but your voice is readily lost in the huff of laughter that escapes your companion.

“Maybe not for sure,” he says. “But I’ve loved you since I was about eight, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

This time, when your lips meet, there’s a bit more heat behind it. Jungkook curls a hand around your nape to draw you in close, and licks sweetly into your mouth when you part for him. He’s quick to press you down onto your mattress, and you sigh as he trails down your body and takes the straps of your tank top with him. The material falls off your shoulders, leaving just enough room to tug the rest of the shirt down to your waist, and he groans when your bare breasts are freed.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re killing me.”

You arch beneath him, huffing out a breathless little laugh when he seizes the opportunity to envelop a nipple into his mouth. His fingers find the other—squeezing and rubbing and tweaking until you’re quivering in his grasp. “Jungkook,” you breathe, waiting until he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Jimin—he could come back any minute. Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

Jungkook glances up from where he’s exploring the underside of your breasts, tracing the soft swell of delicate skin with his lips and tongue. “Jimin,” he says, “is at a special session for his major. He won’t be back for hours, so why don’t you relax and let me make you feel good, hmm?”

And, without even waiting for an answer, he drops down to his knees and digs his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and Jungkook easily tugs the material off them, taking your panties right along with it. Tossing them aside, he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs and slot himself into the newly created space. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and your breath hitches when you glance down the length of your body and see the ravenous glint in his eyes.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re wet enough to take his cock right now. You can feel the slick gathering between your legs, and the smirk on Jungkook’s face tells you that he’s noticed it too. Teasingly, he presses an experimental fingertip to your clit, watching in satisfaction as your hips buck off the mattress at the flare of pleasure. Then he’s sliding down, sinking a lone finger into your entrance and curling upward to find the soft spot that he knows will unravel you in a matter of minutes. A gasp escapes you when he finds it, your hips rising again, and he soothes you with a warm palm on your thigh and a sweet kiss to your hipbone.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungkook is able to build up your orgasm, but then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a quick study, and you’ve never been sure whether it’s stubbornness or determination that drives him to excel at his passions. Here and now, with two of his fingers buried inside your cunt and a third teasing its way in, you don’t even care which it is. All that matters is the pressure building in the pit of your belly, and the way Jungkook keeps murmuring your name and encouraging you to cum for me, princess. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed and your lips parting in a moan as you ride out your high.

“So pretty.” Jungkook circles your clit with his thumb, his fingers still sheathed within your walls. “You always take my fingers so well.”

“Think I’d rather take your cock instead,” you reply breathlessly, sagging back against the mattress and reaching for him. Jungkook takes the hint, gritting out a hoarse curse before crawling up your mostly bare body and crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. You grab the hem of his gray sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his head, and are more than pleased to discover he’s not wearing anything underneath. His sweatpants soon follow, Jungkook impatiently kicking the material off his ankles, and you sigh out his name when he wraps you in his arms, skin against skin.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he warns you, his breath a puff of hot air against the shell of your ear. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later. Just wanna feel you right now.”

“Go on, then,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want me?”

Jungkook groans, no doubt having a furious internal debate with himself, before reaching down and taking his cock in one hand. “Just like this,” he decides, gazing down at the way you’re spread out on your back for him. Deliberately, he settles between your thighs, giving himself a few pumps before positioning himself at your entrance. “Wanna kiss you while I fuck you. Wanna kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He’s pushing forward then, stealing the breath from your lungs along with any thoughts that may have crossed your mind at his last sentiment. Jungkook sinks into you until you’re gasping at the fullness, his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips and pulling you against him with every thrust. He fucks into you with reckless abandon, hoarse praise and gritted curses falling freely from his lips as he uses your body to seek out his own high. Every now and then, his mouth seeks out yours in a sloppy kiss, which you happily indulge as his rhythm falters and becomes increasingly erratic.

Jungkook floods you with his warmth, his arms gathering you up tightly as his cock slowly softens within you. His lips find yours, and this kiss is a simple, tender one—an affectionate press and a crinkly eyed smile that has you automatically smiling back.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” you tease, poking him in his slightly sweaty chest. “Jimin’s going to throttle you for this, you know.”

“Worth it,” he replies cheekily. “Anything’s worth it as long as you kiss me better afterward.”

“Gross,” you tell him, laughing. “You’re so lame.”

“But you still like me,” he says with a shrug. Then he grins. “The real question, though, is whether you like me enough to help me move in the fall.”

You hum, hiding your smile. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

A positively wicked grin spreads across his face and settles there. “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

///

A few weeks later -

Jimin hums softly under his breath as he strolls into his new dorm, a cardboard box cradled in his arms. There’s a growing pile of boxes in the middle of the living area already, and he’s only just found an empty spot to drop the latest when he hears an odd noise coming from the bathroom. A wet, smacking sound, kind of like—

“Jungkook, you dog,” he snorts, throwing the cracked door open. “Get your ass out here and help me unpa—“ He stops in his tracks.

The scene before him doesn’t make sense. Jungkook is standing in front of him with wide eyes and fear in his expression, but that doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t until he sees you in the reflection of the mirror over the sink, your clothes disheveled and your lips swollen.

“Wait, we can explain,” Jungkook begins, following the trajectory of Jimin’s gaze and waving his hands in a fluttery panic. “I swear, Jimin, it’s not what you think—“

“That’s my sister,” Jimin says, his voice dangerously calm.

“Yeah, but—”

“You put your hands on my sister,” Jimin continues matter-of-factly, as if Jungkook hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m going to fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

And before you can catch your breath and open your mouth to stop him, Jimin leaps forward, his fingers aimed directly for Jungkook’s throat.

[andypantsx3]

Always First | Bakugou/Reader

I accidentally deleted the ask for this one and I cannot for the life of me remember who asked for it!! I’m super sorry, but here you go anyway!!

Prompt: “It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling.” Word Count: 700 words Tags/Warnings: mostly SFW Notes: Thank you to @bobawithpomegranate​ for beta-ing!!

You should have known Mina was up to something from the beginning.

She’d appeared in your living room—supremely uninvited—on a Wednesday night, already babbling a mile a minute about some cute new boutique bar opening downtown that she was arranging a small group outing to, that you absolutely had to join or you didn’t love her and she was going to chain herself to your couch like a protestor to a tree until you complied.

Small group outing, she’d said.

As if Mina ever did things small.

You’d made the mistake of agreeing, before you found out that small group outing was, apparently, code for Mina, Kirishima of the newly-minted boyfriend status, you...and fucking Bakugou Katsuki.

Bakugou Katsuki, as in the meanest, nastiest, and most unfairly handsome member of your acquaintance—on whom you had nursed something like a masochistic little crush for a number of years. Though you would rather fucking die than admit it.

How Mina had roped him into coming, you almost didn’t want to know.

The four of you were currently wedged into a small booth, Mina and Kirishima chatting happily about nothing, Bakugou shoved up next to you, nursing a beer almost as sour as his expression. He’d been polite enough all evening, which was rare for him, but you kept catching him eyeing you from the corner of his eye—a barely-there flash of bright scarlet—like you were a small child that he didn’t quite trust not to run into the street.

What he thought you were going to do was absolutely beyond you, as you’d been very careful to be polite but distant enough around him all evening, knowing as you did that he was deeply disinterested in you. 

Even if it was really hard with the entirety of his right side pressed up against you like that. His very warm, very muscular, very nice-smelling right side.

It seemed like the evening was drawing safely to a close around one a.m.—you were already patting yourself on the back for keeping your hands to yourself—when Mina finally struck.

“Well this was a wonderful double date—let’s do it again soon!” she chirped. Her grin was bordering just on the wrong side of sharp, predatory.

You fought down a furious blush, and an instant annoyance with her. Why was she trying to undo all your hard work this evening? You’d managed to keep things so platonic up until this point, and Bakugou was barely even mean to you.

“It’s not a double date,” you insisted. “We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

There was a scoff from Bakugou. 

And then he completely missed the point. 

“Fuck you, I’ve never been third in my life,” he said venomously.

Your head whipped around to stare at him. Those scarlet eyes glared back.

“Bakugou, you—” you floundered. “It’s an expression. First and second wheels are dating. We’re not dating.”

“You think I couldn’t fucking date you?” he demanded, gaze narrowing in on you with an intensity that was incredibly alarming. You struggled to process this.

“I didn’t say that but—wait, what?” you asked. 

Across the table, Kirishima reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Mina looked beside herself with glee.

“I’ll fucking date the shit out of you,” Bakugou spat. “I’ll date you so hard you fucking bleed.”

You let out a noise of confusion, struggling to come up with the right words for this situation. 

Bakugou, however, must have taken this as a direct challenge. He angrily slapped a stack of bills down on the table, more than enough to cover both of your drinks, and then he was wrenching you away from the table without so much as a goodbye to your friends.

Mina, apparently, hadn’t anticipated one.

As Bakugou herded you out of the bar, keeping up a stream of comments that suggested he was going to commence your relationship by blowing out your back over the side of your couch—“walk fucking faster, damn you”—your phone pinged with a text from her.

He came because I told him you would be here. Just...keep that in mind.

And then another.

There’s a strip of condoms in your purse. Make good choices.

….You were gonna have to thank her.

Garbage Fest masterlist linked in pinned!

[eyesoverinfinity]

Cooking show Au

Episode 2: Quit your wine-ing

(Note from writer: this will have lines taken from @house-of-wack as this has the sentence that inspired the au. please enjoy!)

The intro plays, it is a Introduction to all 8 of the hosts of this show: Zoey, Louis, Francis, Bill, Ellis, Nick, Rochelle and Coach.

Then the logo appears:

The logo dissipates to revel the camera zooming in on the hosts, as pre-recorded clapping plays.

The benches have been replaced with bathtubs, but despite some of the hosts looking confused no one comments on it.

Louis limps forward, everyone is still injured from last episode.

Louis: Welcome to 8 in the kitchen! The show were we make food and may regret it later! Now last episode we had an... exciting encounter with Ellis's friend Keith. We haven't quite recovered from that yet so today we'll be doing something inside. Rochelle, what are we making today?

Rochelle: Well, I've decided to make a cocktail, it's a recipe given to me by my family and we don't need to leave the kitchen for it.

Rochelle leaves the set and drags in a whiteboard. This whiteboard has the drawing of some cocktails on it, with the words 'not dangerous to make' underlined.

Rochelle: Now, we're going to need some Ingredients! Luckily I-

Ellis: Hey wait, since we ain't going anywhere, what are we going to do with the chibi's?

Rochelle: Their taking a day off, don't worry.

A cut shows that the chibi's on a beach as animated as them, relaxing.

Francis: I hate sand

Nick: Shut it Anakin.

The camera cuts back to the hosts.

Rochelle: Anyways, I bought the ingredients for the drink!

The screen shows the recipe:

Old Glory 2.0

8-10 blueberries 8-10 blackberries 8-10 boysenberries 2 oz Long Island Vodka 1 oz fresh lemon juice 1 oz maple syrup 1-2 oz Oregon Pinot Noir

Rochelle: To make my cocktail recipe first we need two shots of vodka

Rochelle begins to pour.

Nick:

Coach:

Ellis:

Rochelle is still pouring.

Zoey:

Bill:

Francis:

Louis:

Rochelle, puts down the now empty bottle and picks up another and begins pouring.

Coach: Ro, that ain't a shot, girl.

Rochelle: Did I say shot? I meant "shop" as in I went to two different stores and bought out their supply. It's a strong drink.

Louis: We're gonna die.

Nick: I would like to try it.

Zoey: I wondered why you needed a bathtub to make a cocktail.

Bill: Who taught you how to make this drink?

Rochelle: My extended family from Scotland.

Bill: They wouldn't happen to be called DeGroot would they?

Rochelle starts pouring the third bottle

Rochelle: Yes, how did you know?

Bill: I'm... familiar with them.

The recipe comes up on screen and changes:

Old Glory 2.0

8-10 boxes of blueberries 8-10 boxes of blackberries 8-10 boxes of boysenberries 2 shops of Vodka 1 jug fresh lemon juice 1 /4 jug maple syrup 1 & 1/2 jugs Oregon Pinot Noir

and adds: DO NOT TRY AT HOME OR EVER

Time is sped up as the others pour their bottles into the bathtubs as well.

Rochelle: Now we add the boxes of berries and jug of lemon juice! These add a wonderful blend of sweet and citrus, then you add a quarter of a jug of maple syrup, my family usually adds more but I find that can't taste anything else if that happens.

Nick: Isn't straight up dying a concern?

Bill: I've meet that side of her family, the answer is no.

Rochelle ignores these comments

Rochelle: Next we add the one and a half jugs of Oregon Pinot Noir and start mixing! Unfortunately our giant spoons where stolen by the mob last episode, so today we'll be using.

Rochelle tries to hide look of disbelief for the audience but fails.

Rochelle: Giant forks.

The giant forks are wheeled in.

Zoey: Couldn't we just order more giant spoons?

Rochelle: We did, but there not arriving until a week after this episode is due to air. Your lucky I manged to convince our boss not to get the giant chopsticks.

They all pick up a fork except for Ellis, who still has a broken arm. Rochelle help's him with his. Time speeds up again when they start mixing. The time-lapse stops for a second.

Francis: Man this is this hard!

Rochelle: Maple syrup is like that.

Bill: It's the berries I'm having trouble with, they keeping getting stuck and I can barley see them!

Louis: At least they smells nice!

Coach: They taste great too!

The hosts stop.

Coach: what?

Rochelle: Coach... did you eat any the berries?

Coach is seen visibly sweating.

Coach: No?

Rochelle:

Coach: I'll get the apron of shame.

The time-lapse starts again, This time Coach is wearing the apron of shame.

Rochelle: And that's how you make the old glory 2.0!

Nick: Is there a 3.0?

Rochelle: It's this but with Scrumpy.

Nick: ah.

Rochelle: Thank you all for coming! We'll be back to our normal adventures next episode, but in the meantime we hoped you enjoyed the more relaxed tone.

Zoey: It'll give us time to figure out what to do with all this.

Francis: I thought we were going to drink it all.

Bill: Do you want to end up in hospital again?

Louis: We'll see you all next time.

Everyone: Bye!

The theme song plays and the credits roll. A post credit scene shows Coach, still wearing the apron of shame, cleaning the kitchen while listening to the midnight riders.

[devendrasbeard]

Don't Wake The Sleeping Dragon

This is my @merrywitchermas Rarepair Secret Santa gift to @firefly-party !!!

I got so blessed, because my assigned giftee is also my BESTIE!

I had so much fun writing this, the only difficulty was keeping the thing secret for a WHOLE MONTH! also, special thanks to @hallistarling for beta-ing, tossing ideas arround and keeping her mouth shut too!

Merry Christmas, Kei, my beloved! Enjoy your Jaskel! <3

Summary: Contrary to his husband, Eskel is a massive fan of body modifications, having almost half of his body covered with tattoos and piercings. Jaskier holds his hand during yet another piercing appointment, not knowing the severe consequences of Eskel's decision for them both.

Read on AO3 or read it here under the cut, because SMUT

"Oh my god, oh gods, I can't look... I can't," Jaskier was as pale as a piece of paper, his hands shaky and voice weak.

"You're being overly dramatic, love," Eskel chuckled and squeezed his hand.

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Jaskier tried weakly. "Gods, is this how husbands feel around their wives in delivery rooms?"

"Now you're really being overly dramatic, Jask."

"Listen, mate," the piercer rose in his seat, from where he was hunched over Eskel. "How about you go wait outside and come back to see the final outcome?"

"Excuse you, mate," Jaskier gave him a condescending look. "But a cock like my husband's happens only once in a lifetime, so I won't let it out of my sight during the whole thing."

"Alright," the piercer let out a deep sigh. "Do you want me to walk you through the process again?" He turned to Eskel, but his question seemed to be directed more towards Jaskier. Eskel started feeling like a third wheel on his own piercing appointment.

"Yes, please," Jaskier said, leaning back in his seat, sighing heavily.

"Okay. So what I'm gonna do is," the piercer gestured vaguely around Eskel's crotch area, "I'm gonna put the needle through the urethra and then pierce through the top of the glans, pulling the piercing behind it to secure it in place."

Jaskier turned even whiter in the face than before and let out a very long, deep breath. "Yeah, you know what, I'm gonna go wait outside."

The closest Jaskier has gotten to body modifications was getting his nose pierced by a friend in the high school's bathrooms. His mom gave him hell for it and nagged him for days to take it out, which Jaskier eventually did, but not because of her, but because the hole got infected. He figured, piercings and tattoos weren't exactly his thing, he even turned away Eskel's offer to get their wedding bands tattooed and opted for a more traditional white gold option.

His husband, on the other hand, was on the exact opposite end of the spectrum. Jaskier never denied that what pulled him to Eskel in the first place were his intricate and colorful full tattoo sleeves - detailed drawings of flowers, poison ivy and exotic birds on one arm and a snake fighting a dragon on the other. Upon getting to know him better, Jaskier also learned that Eskel had a very interesting tattoo of a half naked succubus on his abdomen, and his family's initials tattooed in ancient runes on his chest, right above a ring nipple piercing. Yes, there was also a tongue piercing that Jaskier fell in love with at the first kiss.

But this? Jaskier felt that this was too much even for Eskel. He'd told Jaskier it would improve their sex life (which Jaskier never complained about) and bring more spice into their relationship (it was spicy enough for Jaskier as it was, thank you), but most of all he'd said that he was just curious. And who was Jaskier to mandate what his significant other could and could not do with their body?

Eskel emerged out of the room and approached the reception desk to pay for his piercings. He grimaced a little while walking and Jaskier felt sorry for him.

"Okay, here are the aftercare guidelines and the balm," the piercer said after handing Eskel a little bag with all essentials. "Use the balm twice a day and remember to rinse the glans with warm water after you urinate. It should be fully healed within six months, but you can use the balm for the first two months only. And also, absolutely no sex and no getting boners during the healing period, minimum six weeks." He smiled at Eskel, but it was underlined with pity.

Jaskier rose from his seat in the waiting room and approached the piercer. "I'm sorry, I don't think I follow... I'm sure you meant six days?"

"Nah, mate." The piercer now smiled at Jaskier, and this time it was a full blown grin. "No sexy times for at least six weeks, unless you want your husband to make a quick visit to the ER..."

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Jaskier whispered to Eskel through gritted teeth and stormed out of the salon.

*****

"I can't believe you hid such crucial information from me!" Jaskier said, still angry, as he drove them back home. "Two months?!"

"You're saying it as if you couldn't go a few weeks without sex, darling," Eskel laughed, opening the window to let the summer breeze in.

"Because I can't! Or at least... Won't give it up willingly!" Jaskier threw his arms up, causing Eskel to laugh at him even more.

"C'mon, love... It's not the first time we can't bang for a while," Eskel patted Jaskier's jeans-clad knee. "Remember when Papa fell ill and I had to go home for three months?"

"We had phone sex then. Almost every night," Jaskier mumbled, deliberately avoiding Eskel's gaze, keeping a frown on his face to show him he was still mad. And doing his best not to smile at the memory of his husband's sweet moans in his phone's speaker from back then.

"You're creative, you'll come up with something to do during this time," Eskel said lightly, smoothing his hand along Jaskier's thigh.

"Well, I'd most likely do you," Jaskier whined.

"I bet you would," Eskel leaned in and kissed Jaskier's neck. "I guess you'll just have to... take the matters into your own hands, so to speak," he laughed loudly at his own joke.

"It's not funny, you bastard!" Jaskier swatted his hand away and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

*****

The first two weeks of his celibacy went by fast and easy, which surprised Eskel. He kept the strict cleaning and moisturizing regimen and seeing the piercings heal quickly made him sure he was gonna make it. Even though a bit grumpy, Jaskier was doing all he could to support his husband during this "challenging time" - he didn't walk out of the shower naked and parade around their bedroom looking for clean underwear; he stopped wiggling his butt in bed when he was the little spoon, and he even took the effort to stop making that lovely moaning sound when he ate his favourite ice cream.

But then one morning Jaskier was making pancakes, dancing around to his favourite music, while Eskel sat at the kitchen table drinking his coffee.

After making a little half spin, Jaskier dropped his spatula and he bent over to reach for it. Eskel's mouth fell agape and his whole skin prickled with need. Did Jaskier's sweatpants always stick to his butt like second skin? And when did Jaskier's ass get so mouthwateringly round and supple and so fucking tempting? Eskel gripped his coffee mug tighter and cleared his throat.

And that's when Jaskier looked at him from behind his shoulder, his hair tousled and cheeks so deliciously pink and giggled, "Ahh, silly me..."

Oh. Oh no. Eskel got tense immediately and the heat coiling in the bottom of his stomach went straight to his cock. He rose from his seat and quickly closed the distance between him and Jaskier, spinning his husband around, pressing him into the kitchen counter and kissing him hard.

"Fuck, Jaskier," he panted, pressing his whole body against his husband's, grinding against him, peppering his face, neck and the exposed skin of his chest with kisses. "You're too hot to stay away from..."

"Eskel... We can't," Jaskier said sternly, but at the same time he threw his head away, bucking his hips against Eskel's, a wanton sigh leaving his lips.

And then he felt it. A flash of hot, stinging pain in the head of his dick right the moment he rubbed himself against Jaskier's thigh again.

"Ah, fuck!" Eskel backed off, folding in half, hands clutching his hurting groin. "Fucking hell..." He stumbled back to his seat at the coffee table.

"I'm so sorry, love," Jaskier sighed from the other end of the kitchen, looking at him with pity. "But... you brought it upon yourself! You knew what you were getting yourself into!" He pointed a finger at him, fake anger on his worried face.

"Yes, I guess I did..." Eskel sighed. "Just a few more weeks..."

"A few more weeks."

*****

Jaskier woke up in the middle of the night to a raging boner. Again.

He loved Eskel and he tried his best not to cause arousal in his husband to help him get through this trying time. But Eskel? He was just too hot - even thinking, dreaming about him was enough to get Jaskier's blood boiling and his cock stirring with want. The fact that they haven't had sex in over a month wasn't helping at all.

Eskel was sound asleep next to him, lying shirtless on his side, one tattooed arm flung across Jaskier's chest, his steady, even breath tickling Jaskier's face. He looked so beautiful with his dark mussed hair, slightly parted lips and that broad chest.

With a sigh of resignation, and a dick hard as if there was no tomorrow, Jaskier slipped carefully out of Eskel's embrace and padded to the bathroom.

He turned the shower on and quickly shimmied out of his sweatpants and shirt. He stepped under the warm water, leaning one hand on the wall and taking his cock in the other, wasting no time.

Looking for a quick release, trying not to wake Eskel up, Jaskier let his mind wander. He was touch starved, sexually frustrated, so it was easy to find images and scenarios in his head that could tip him over the edge quickly.

He thought of their first phone sex three years ago, when Eskel had to spend several months in his home town. He recalled how shy and reluctant Eskel was at first, too awkward to video chat with Jaskier, so they retorted to talking on the phone. He remembered how at first Eskel would clear his throat and hum before each whispered sentence, and how he grew bolder with time and with every broken moan that left Jaskier's lips.

The memory of Eskel panting hotly into the phone, of the quick, sharp breaths that left his mouth after Jaskier whispered "Oh darling, you're so hard for me, I'm gonna lose my mind!" was already sending Jaskier over the edge, making his skin prickle and his vision blur.

"Ah, fuck, Eskel, yes," he started babbling, his hand moving on his dick at a fast, rushed pace. He could feel the tension in his belly, the sweet release being just around the corner. "Oh gods, darling, yes, yes! Oh my god!"

"Jaskier?" Eskel's sleepy voice reached him through the sound of water.

Startled, Jaskier tried to stop himself, to muffle the obscene sounds leaving his mouth, but he was too far gone. He came with a shout, a broken whine that escaped his lips against his better judgment. He slid down the wall and sat on the shower's floor. "Ah, fuck."

After he'd quickly dried himself and put his sleeping clothes back on, Jaskier entered the bedroom only to find it empty. He only noticed a faint light shining into the corridor from their kitchen.

"Esk?" He made his way down the hall and found him, sitting on the kitchen counter next to the open fridge, an ice pack placed carefully on his crotch. Jaskier sighed and moved towards his husband to wrap him in a tight hug. "I guess I wasn't as stealthy as I thought I was?"

Eskel just sighed, shaking his head, his long, black hair covering his eyes. He laughed lightly, patting the ice pack he kept cradled over his groin. "I guess your moans are way more sexy than you think they are."

*****

"Today's the day," Jaskier woke him up with soft kisses to Eskel's neck and a hand smoothing along his torso and abdomen under the shirt.

"Is it?" Eskel asked sleepily, sitting up and wrapping Jaskier into a hug.

"I kept track in my calendar," Jaskier smiled, waving his phone in front of Eskel's eyes before turning it off and placing it back on his nightstand. "Six weeks and one day exactly. Can we finally at least try to have sex?"

Eskel nodded and felt his cock stirring with interest and hardening as soon as Jaskier kicked the bedsheets away and laid his hands on him. And he was fully hard as soon as Jaskier helped him get out of his boxer shorts.

"Okay, should we take it slow?" Jaskier said, voice strained with need and shaky with excitement. "I got everything prepared that we might need and... What are those?!" His eyes were fixed on the underside of Eskel's cock, where two silver barbells were placed one under the other. "Are you out of your mind? I thought you were getting only the tip pierced?!"

Eskel pulled him into a kiss, a soft one that quickly turned needy, heated. "I figured I might as well get everything done at once and go only once through the hassle," he said lightly as they finally parted their lips. "And I'm more than sure that you're gonna love it."

"You're a freak," Jaskier laughed, but his hand already wandered along Eskel's thick thigh, sneaking between his hairy legs, ready to grab and stroke his cock.

"Can I..." Eskel tried with an apologetic smile. "Can I touch myself first? It's been a while and I have no idea what to expect."

"Go for it," Jaskier smiled, licking his lips and watching as Eskel grabbed himself in his big hand.

OH. That felt... different. He was so touch starved and the skin around the piercings was still very sensitive, so that Eskel felt every touch with doubled strength. It didn't hurt, but the intensity of a simple touch bewildered him. He moaned unwillingly, biting down his lip as he started stroking himself lightly. The piercings moved slightly under his hand with every stroke and sent bolts of pleasure down his spine and he closed his eyes shut with a huff. "Fuck..."

Jaskier's hand was around his palm in a second, his husband scooting closer, pressing against Eskel's body with all his weight. Feeling Jaskier's hand on him for the first time in so long was enough to tip him over the edge. Jaskier breathed heavily into Eskel's neck and as he stroked him - gently at first, but growing bolder with each move - he deliberately rolled his thumb over the pierced slit of Eskel's cock and down the sensitive shaft. It felt so good, so, so incredibly good, Eskel felt his toes curling, the heat in his belly almost too much to bear and... he came immediately, all over their intertwined hands, a stifled moan suppressed at the back of his throat.

"Fuck..." Eskel slid down the pillows and let out a deep breath. "I'm... whoo, I'm sorry, but also I absolutely am not."

Jaskier chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then his neck. Then moved down to pepper his torso with kisses. "I figured you wouldn't last long the first time around," he said, raising his pretty head and looking up at Eskel with those big blue, hopeful eyes. "You better get up and ready again soon, cause I've been dying to ride it!"

"Darling," was all Eskel could say watching with wide eyes as Jaskier slid further down and nestled comfortably between his thighs.

"I've been dying to do that too," Jaskier whispered with a playful smirk and ducked his head to welcome Eskel's cock in his mouth.

Oh, this felt just too good. It only took a few laps of Jaskier's tongue for Eskel to be fully hard again. Whenever Jaskier circled the head of Eskel's cock with his tongue, Eskel had to gasp and throw his head back - the welcoming heat of Jaskier's mouth combined with the heaviness and coldness of the ring piercing caused him shivers. But then Jaskier closed his lips over Eskel's dick and hummed looking straight at Eskel with that mischievous spark in his eye. The vibrations of Jaskier's low voice around the pierced head, the softness of his tongue on the underside of Eskel's cock made his vision blur, made him see stars at the edges. Eskel moaned loudly, fisting the bedsheets, bucking his hips up, deeper into the slick, wet heat of Jaskier's mouth.

By gods, he wanted. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel anything else - there was just the feeling of Jaskier's lips on his aching cock and the desire, the want to just grab Jaskier's head and fuck his face.

"Fuck, Jaskier, I'm..." he panted, taut as a string, feet planted on the floor, fighting the overwhelming urge to just spill straight into Jaskier's mouth.

"I'm having none of that," Jaskier hoarsed, having released Eskel's cock with a loud pop, and already climbing into Eskel's lap. Gods, how beautiful did he look - his hair all tousled, eyes watery and those sinful lips already red and swollen. "Let me ride you."

*****

Jaskier really loved and enjoyed their tender, slow love making, that could take up all evening or half the night. But sometimes - and today was the day - something darker and greedy overshadowed Eskel's usual softness and selflessness. There was only raw need, pure desire, and a lot of bossing Jaskier around. And Jaskier loved every moment of this.

Jaskier didn't even get to straddle Eskel's lap properly and he was already being grabbed hard by his hips, turned onto his back and pressed into the mattress, with Eskel's broad body looming over him. The deep desire showing in Eskel's dark eyes was almost palpable between them.

"Jaskier," Eskel murmured before parting his husband's thighs unceremoniously and kneeling between them.

"C'mon," Jaskier urged him on, canting his hips up, looking at Eskel with half-lidded eyes. He wanted Eskel just as much as his husband wanted him.

Eskel traced his fingers across Jaskier's chest, carding through his thick, dark hair covering his pecs, then caressed his neck, and finally put two digits on Jaskier's lower lip. He pressed down a little, looking down at Jaskier, an unspoken question on his face. Jaskier knew that game so well and saw that despite all the urgency and pent up desire, Eskel wanted to get the most out of their first love making in two months. Although he himself was hanging by the thread, his mind focused only on finally getting impaled on that thick pierced cock, he decided to give Eskel what he wanted, to make this one count.

With a broken moan, Jaskier parted his lips just so, silently allowing Eskel to push his fingers in, his eyes flickering to the four letters tattooed on Eskel's knuckles. JASK.

Jaskier had scoffed and said that the tattoo was too pretentious when Eskel surprised him with it for their three years anniversary, but now he's learned to love it. Eskel was showing boldly who he belonged to, and that he and Jaskier were a match forever. And now, with the tattooed letters almost disappearing in Jaskier's mouth, it all felt strangely in place.

Jaskier sucked at his husband's fingers, making sure the moans and whines that left his mouth only turned him on more. Eskel's eyes were fixed on Jaskier's lips, his chest heaving with the quick breaths that were filled with pure want. He quickly moved his other hand south, deliberately not touching Jaskier's weeping cock, his fingers finding their way to Jaskier's hole to finally spread him open.

Jaskier huffed a laugh around Eskel's fingers, arching a brow with satisfaction, as Eskel raised his head in wonderment. With a lewd, slick sound, Eskel pulled out the plug Jaskier has been wearing for a few hours now.

"You're nasty," Eskel coarsed, throwing the toy to the side and leaving another greedy, hasty kiss on Jaskier's lips.

"I won't wait any minute longer for you, darling," Jaskier said, canting his hips. "Just fuck me already."

"Fuck, Jaskier." Eskel launched at him, kissing him with uncontrollable passion, his hot tongue exploring Jaskier's mouth, his teeth grazing Jaskier's lips painfully, while his strong hands pressed Jaskier's hips into the mattress. "I love you so fucking much."

"You better fuck me as hard as you love me," Jaskier panted against his husband's lips, rolling his hips, his ass brushing against Eskel's cock, need and hurry thrumming under his skin.

And so Eskel did.

His big, warm hands spread Jaskier's thighs even wider and Jaskier gasped with want. Eskel scooted closer and aligned his dick with Jaskier's fluttering hole, the pierced head pressing just a little against it.

"Fuck. Me." With the urge to finally feel the thickness of Eskel's cock, Jaskier moved down, impaling himself on the throbbing length, desperate not to waste any more time.

Eskel entered him in a smooth, steady motion, spearing him open, making Jaskier moan and gasp at the sensation. He held Jaskier firmly by the hips, making him unable to move while he bottomed out.

Oh gods. Melitele. All the deities above and below.

This felt so much better than what Jaskier had expected. The heavy ring piercing felt cold at first, but when Eskel started moving, it grazed Jaskier's sweet spot repeatedly and made him see stars. The barbells on the underside of Eskel's cock rubbed Jaskier's walls in the most unexpected ways and all Jaskier could do was hold onto Eskel's arms and let out muffled groans and sighs of pleasure.

The feeling of being full with Eskel's cock was so familiar and yet so different. All the bumps and ridges of his piercings felt like a new, fancy sex toy, but at the same time it all felt so incredibly like Eskel. Jaskier's head was spinning and he tightened his grip on Eskel's shoulders.

"Feels good?" Eskel asked, voice low and strained, as he pressed their foreheads together. The beads of sweat on his face, his darkened eyes, the mussed up hair made him look like an ancient warrior or a freaking fertility god and Jaskier bit his lip at the sudden wave of desire that traveled through his body.

Jaskier nodded eagerly and pulled Eskel into a heated kiss. "So fucking good."

"Yeah," was all Eskel managed before driving hard and fast into him.

Jaskier panted and moaned as Eskel started fucking him in earnest, the piercings hitting all the right places inside him constantly, not giving him a break to breathe, to think.

His moans quickly turned into whines and he grabbed onto Eskel's shoulders tighter, his fingernails digging deep into his husband's flesh. His aching cock, trapped between their sweaty bodies, was leaking precome onto Jaskier's stomach, but he couldn't care less. Everything Eskel was doing to him, giving him, felt too good already.

"Turn around for me?" Eskel asked, the desire in his voice making his words thick like syrup.

Jaskier didn't need to be asked twice - he turned onto his stomach, canting his ass up immediately. A shiver traveled up his spine at the feeling of Eskel spreading his cheeks and giving his heated hole a few licks.

"Fucking hell, Jask," Eskel's voice was raspy, filled with need and desire, but deep, deep underneath there was also affection.

With his strong hands still spreading Jaskier open, Eskel moved up his husband's back, kissing up his spine. His hot breath on Jaskier's nape, his sweet lips kissing and sucking on his neck and shoulders caused Jaskier to whine and gasp and push his hips back at their own volition. He needed Eskel inside, now.

With one hand gripping Jaskier's asscheek tightly, Eskel entered him, but pressed only the tip in. The piercings rubbed Jaskier's walls in a whole different way and Jaskier let out a whine that was pure pleasure.

Eskel pulled out and pressed just the tip back in again, leaning over Jaskier's ear. "Ready?"

"Darling, I was fucking born ready!" Jaskier panted, titling his head to steal a kiss from Eskel's lips.

Holding Jaskier's hips in a steel grip, Eskel slid in again, causing Jaskier to gasp when he bottomed out. He quickly reached a fast and steady pace and Jaskier tangled his fists in the bedsheets, steadying himself, ready to welcome all the pleasure Eskel was determined to give him.

Jaskier moaned and thrashed, moving his hips fast to meet Eskel's thrusts halfway. Eskel was filling him up perfectly, the piercings rubbing against his walls just right, making Jaskier's head spin. All the pent up need and desire made Jaskier want to come, to spill right this instant, but at the same time he didn't want the pleasure to end.

"Fuck, Jaskier," Eskel panted hotly against his neck, his hands moving up and smoothing along Jaskier's sides, chest and back. He still kept up the unforgiving pace, leaving Jaskier breathless and unable to speak. "I love you so much."

"Mmhmm," Jaskier replied, feeling the heat of the upcoming orgasm already coiling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't even have to touch himself, all the pleasure Eskel was giving him was already too much - his broad hands on Jaskier's hips, his breath hot in Jaskier's ear, and that thick pierced dick pounding him into oblivion. "I'm... I'm..."

"I know," Eskel rumbled into his ear. "Me too."

The grip on Jaskier's hips tightened again as Eskel snapped his hips a few last times, reaching the peak of his pleasure, pressing his sweaty, heaving chest to Jaskier's back as he came. Jaskier followed shortly after, spilling all over their bedsheets, throwing his head back with a broken whine.

Eskel rolled over on his back, panting heavily. "Come here," he murmured, pulling Jaskier closer. Even though he was damp with sweat, his hair all disheveled, he has never looked more beautiful to Jaskier.

"That was. Incredible," Jaskier said, letting out a content sigh, wriggling a little to nestle under Eskel's arm, pressing his cheek to his husband's tattooed chest. "But, please, no more dick piercings. No more forced abstinence."

Eskel huffed a laugh, placing a kiss on Jaskier's forehead. "You managed it surprisingly well. I'm sure you could do it again when needed."

*****

After a short regeneration nap, Eskel kissed Jaskier goodbye and left for work.

Jaskier hovered around the house, cleaned a little, prepared Eskel's favourite food for dinner, watched a rerun of his favourite baking show...

But one thought didn't leave his mind the whole day. How incredible, totally otherworldly, and absolutely fucking perfect it felt when Eskel fucked him with that pierced cock. He was genuinely surprised a small "cosmetic" change like that would bring such a huge difference. None of the ribbed, fancy vibrators and dildos they had in their sex toy drawer could compare to this.

Jaskier genuinely wished Eskel could experience something like this at least once in his life. He gave Jaskier so much love and pleasure, he deserved it in return too.

After turning his phone mindlessly in his hands for a few moments, staring at the wall deep in thought while the show's end credits were rolling on the TV, Jaskier dialed the piercing studio's phone number.

"Ah, fuck it, you only live once."

[melodythebunny]

Time to ramble about your OCs. Any OCs you have, tell us about them? What's lore do you wish to tell of them? Funniest things about your OCs? What inspired your OCs?

I wanna ramble about my original work ocs... Bc its been a while since i talked/thought about them. Let alone drawn any of them.

So ill answer this with my original characters if that alright

👉👈

i have a bunch of ocs. Many are still in drafts cuz ive been busy with fan works. But i have two to 3 series one i am trying to turn into an animation series (@the-mis-adventurers ) and another that is gonna be a collab comic series with @strawberry-mangoprincess (she's more active one her Insta compared to me lol) one is just merely a fun concept i think about every now and then.

Overall my ocs are inspired by other fictional characters. mainly from whatever media i consume and enjoy.

Starting with the concept one.

I only have two ocs made for it so far. Ember and Crystal. They are sisters with fire and ice elemental powers hence their names. Ember like fire embers and crystal like ice Crystals. Orphans dunno who there parents were. Not clear if their powers ran in the family/curse/etc.

Ember always had trouble controlling her powers especially with having a fiery temper. She's the more friendlier sibling however. Crystal despises her ice powers. She has an easier time hiding them so she can blend in with normal people. (I gotta draw them again sometime)

Crystal doesnt hate her sister but isn't close to her either. Feeling the need to take care of her since she's the last of kin.

And now for my (slightly) more thought out ocs from my wip series, the misadventurers

In a nutshell i want this series to be about the power of friendship (i blame my mlp phase for this-)

There's four main characters. All girls bc why not?

Their names are mink, jing, Raine and jennifer.

Mink is the more calm and responsible one out of her friends. Mom friend type. Her hair was actually blonde but turned pink to unknown reasons. (I took inspiration from lofi music when creating her) She proudly owns a pet turtle named fern. Will kick butt if her friends are hurt.

Jing is a goth who enjoys making music. she plans on startd her own band someday. (Eventually she does with her friends. Its called rock n pop. Pending title for now) has a rivalry with another oc of mines, Lillian. Loves to scare the others with pranks and horror movies.

Raine is the artist of the group. She tends to break the fourth wall whenever she wants. Also whatever she draws with her paint brush becomes real. her name is also a pun. Raine strom. (You can see her on my tumblr header harassing my old sona) Very zany in a good way. Has a crush on a dense boi*

Jennifer is a social butterfly. Heart's too big for her sleeve. Pacifist. Tends to let wild animals in the house. And thats how she got a pet goat who may or may not actually be one. Her mother wishes she'd be more responsible.

Now for some reccuring characters-

Lillian - famous star, used to be childhood friends with jing. And now they hate eachothers guts. Primadonna gurrrrllll. All she ever wanted was the worrrrldddd(Took alot of inspiration from the song for her) is an attention hog and will do anything to be popular.

*Milo - Also known as peppermint boi/j. But seriously look at his color pallet-. He does enjoy mints and always passing one out to people. Very dense and doesn't get when he is getting on someone nerves. Just as zany as raine. Uber positive. Don't let him get too excited tho. Cuz he'll LITERALLY explode.

Cole - college drop out. Wonders why the haystack milo and raine won't leave him be. Also tends to be their third wheel on their 'not' dates. He hates it. Very moody. Legend has it he's never laughed or smiled before.

Derek - just some rich dude. Comes up with so many back stories like Horst from ratatouille so its hard to tell which is fake and what is real. Tries really hard for Jennifer to fall for him but doesn't work out.

I already rambled to you about max and min. Buttt I can tell you a it more about them at least about their absent/missing parents

Thymes (pronounced Times) and Divid are the twins and Equan’s Parents.

They are both scientists who worked for [REDACTED]. Thymes and Divid were both pretty much crazy but in a ‘not so dangerous’ type of way.  always ready to invent stuff even if it held no actual purpose.

It did concern them greatly when Equan started going through a Frankenstein phase. At least they assumed it was. Probably didn’t help much they were pretty much working even at home leaving their kids pretty much unattended(And boy oh boy did they learn…)

And sadly disappeared due to unknown circumstances.

[primalsouls]

sharing is caring

reki kyan x gn! reader x langa hasegawa

⚠️ : none

theme: fluff

notes: so uh... poly relationship :3 anyway enjoy! thank for reading! decided to do a little something for Valentine's day with reki and langa and idk i just like the idea of them being in a poly relationship with reader ^u^

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

"Aah, I can't wait to tell [Y/N] how I feel about them for Valentine's!" Reki said excitedly while Langa glanced at him with an expression of shock.

"Wait, [Y/N]? You're getting something for them today?" Langa asked with a brow raised. Reki nodded, looking over at him with a grin. "But I was going to confess to them today."

Those words froze Reki in placed, his skateboard rolling off to the side on its own as he took his feet off it. The duo currently sat on the steps that led to the skatepark they attended behind a building. Reki stared at Langa with the same shock expression the bluenette gave him. Both friends blinked a few times.

"You like [Y/N]!?" They yelled in unison after they stood up from their spots on the steps. Their index fingers pointed at each other as their eyes widen at each other's questions. Each had a blush decorated their cheeks. Reki shook his head, putting his hand down and instead placed them on his waist. Langa sighed quietly, sitting back down on the step. He picked up his skateboard, studying it boredly.

"Why do you like them? You only met them for a while now and already you have a crush on them?" Reki asked, taking a seat beside Langa once again, his brows knitted down. Langa pouted, looking over at his redhead friend. "I known [Y/N] longer. My crush grew from junior high." He continued, his own pout showing up on his face.

"Knowing them longer doesn't matter that much. It's how well you get along with the person." Langa said. Reki nodded, thinking about it for a moment as the taller of the two continued. "I like [Y/N] because they're nice. They helped with my injuries whenever skate around my neighborhood." Reki remembered Langa lived next to [Y/N]'s house. It was just around the corner. Not too far. He had seen the two walk to school together and even going home together. He didn't mind it at first. It was what friends do. Until he learned Langa liked them as well. "Why do you like them?"

The question caught Reki off guard despite being the one who asked it first. His flushed cheeks reddened.

"Like I said... I known them longer and my crush started on middle school. How it started? Well," Reki looked up at the sky. Evening was drawing near. "When I started skating after another friend got me into it, [Y/N] was there to show me the rodes more. Always tending any small wounds I get. They'll scold me for being too reckless." Reki chuckled at the memories. It made Langa smiled a bit. But Langa then stood up, a determined look on his face. It startled Reki from his spot, looking up at him with a confused gaze.

"Let's beef." Langa said, a hand clenched into a fist.

"W-wait, what? Beef?" Reki asked, which earned him a firm nod from Langa. "For what? [Y/N]'s love?" He joked but stopped right away when the other boy stared at him with a serious look in his eyes. "Oh... I... Okay, let's beef then." Reki dared. He picked up his skateboard, his own eyes shined with determination as well as he stood up from the steps. Langa picked up his board, too.

"First one to get to [Y/N]'s house gets to confess."

"And the loser?"

"Hmm... Third wheels?"

Reki rose a brow, a shrug being his answer to Langa's suggestions.

"Let's think about it right after I confess." Reki said. He already took off, getting on the road and placed his skateboard, stepping on it to ride it down the street. Langa blinked, his lips parted slightly before it spread into a grin, going right after his friend.

[Y/N] flipped the channel on their TV, a bored look on their face. They were spending Valentine's day alone. After countless of times they went back and forth with their plans of confessing to a couple of certain friends. But they didn't know who to confess to. So, a third option came to mind. Spend the day alone. Inside their house. Watching the television while eating from a small tub of ice cream. What a day. A tired sigh left their lips. If only they could muster up the courage to confess to their crushes. Speaking of crushes, they turned their attention to their windoe after hearing a crash outside. Then his door received frantic knocks. [Y/N] was confused yet scared at the same time. They turned off their TV and stood up from their seat on the couch, walking over to their door as more knocks came. They leaned up to the peephole. A sigh of relief left their lips when they saw Reki and Langa outside, practically banging on their door and now shouting from the top of their lungs. It started to pissed them off. As they opened the door and stepped to the side, the duo came crushing on each other when they fell to the floor after tipping forward through the entrance of the door.

"What the hell, guys? Why are you banging on my door?" [Y/N] asked, their arms crossed over their chest as they glanced at their friends once they stood up. A frown settled on their face but soon disappeared and a look of confusion replaced it once the boys started to ramble on and on over each other. [Y/N] rolled their eyes, shaking their head. They didn't get a clue of what they were saying, mostly due to Reki being a bit loud than Langa.

"Wait, wait! Calm down!" They said, waving their hands. "What's going on?"

Reki and Langa panted softly, their cheeks flushed due to skating their way to their crush's house.

"I like you!" They yelled together. It threw [Y/N] off. A look of surprise in their face as their arms fell to their side. A blush dusted their cheeks, not just on [Y/N] but on the other two boys as well. It was quiet right after. Eyes staring at one another. Until Langa cleared his throat.

"Please... um... choose who's confession you'll accept." Langa said with a bow of his head. Reki nodded in agreement, giving [Y/N] a bright grin.

"Yup! And don't worry about hurting anyone's feelings. We'll all still be friends." Reki reassured, his hand reaching over to pat [Y/N] on the head.

[Y/N] blinked. They didn't want to choose between their two friends. Of course, they loved both boys. Not only as friends but more than that. A reason they kept backing out on who to choose to confess their love to. But then an idea came to mind.

"W-why don't we... go out together?" They said, averting their eyes away from the skating duo. Reki and Langa blinked, their head tilted to one side. Swallowing their nervousness, they cleared their throat. "I really... like the both of you. I was gonna confess today but I didn't know who I should confess to. I like the two of you and I don't wanna ruin either of our friendship." They explained, hands behind their back. Reki and Langa stared at [Y/N], making them even more anxious for their responses. "I-I even made heart-shaped cookies to give... one of... you...?" They shrugged, taking a risky glanced between the two friends.

Next thing [Y/N] knew was being in a crushing hug.

"Aww! [Y/N] just too cute! Let's do it!" Reki shouted excitedly, pecking their forehead. Langa nodded, burying his face on their head.

"Let's share our love." Langa said, smiling fondly at [Y/N].

[Y/N] smiled, chuckling. Each of their own blush reddened more as they gave Reki and Langa a kiss on the lips.

"I'm happy to hear that... Now, why don't we spend the rest of the day watching TV and eating the cookies. I made enoughfor everyone." They suggested, the duo nodding in affirmation as their eyes sparkled at the mention of cookies.

For the rest of the evening, the trio spent their time watching movies while eating cookies in each other's embrace, with [Y/N] being in the middle. Kisses were placed on each of their cheeks from Reki and Langa, their blush going up to their ears.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 10.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love,

Warnings In This Chapter: Heart To Heart, Fluff, Infidelity, Sera Is A Cunt, Triggering Moments (I.E): Hearing Infidelity, Making Light Of Other's Trauma, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, General Rudeness

A/N: This chapter is early because I’m hungover. Always a shoutout to @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia​. Enjoy! 

The smell of blooming flowers is something you never thought you'd become fond of. It's never been something that you've even considered. But you find yourself so often these days finding small delights in simplistic things.

Sitting in front of the large fountain that has been hidden behind clean cut hedges and tall rose bushes, you let the gentle breeze wash over you.

You can hear Baeksoo quietly speaking to the plants as she waters them. It's calming in fact, to hear her speak words of praise.

You've thought long and hard about this evening. Which is astounding since it's just dinner. But, you don't know simple things about Yoongi.

You think to ask Maya but you want to do this by yourself.

"I thought I'd find you here," the voice draws your attention and suddenly you're misty eyed.

Just the way she walks and the tilt of her gorgeous face is enough to make you weep.

"Leena!" you cry out.

Jumping up from the bench, your arms spread wide as you feel relief flood over you.

"Hey, Miss Thing!" she cheers, pulling you into her arms.

You begin to feel as if you could breathe again.

"You look so great! I missed you so much!" she whines loudly, squeezing you tightly to her slim body.

"What're you doing here?!" you ask, pulling away to look at her pretty face.

She grabs your wrist, tugging you over to the bench you were just sitting on.

"Taehyung needed to bring Yoongi some documents for a mall or something before we're off to France, so I made sure I was able to come and see you."

You watch as she demurely crosses her legs and you make a mental note of it. She went to many etiquette classes when she was younger and you’ve always admired how graceful she is. It’s the way she moves so effortlessly and with such confidence. You’ve always wished to be like her.

The floral fragrance seems to enrapture you once more as you sit together. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, your best friend makes it a point to continue to hold you.

“How is he treating you? I swear to God, if you tell me that you’re being treated like the help I’m going to fucking flip.” your best friend asks.

You sigh gently, looking up at the clear cerulean sky.

“He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.” you reply as the breeze blows through your hair.

“Excuse me? Min Yoongi apologized to you?” she sounds dumbfounded and all you can do is nod in agreement.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking whipped! That’s amazing.” you snort at her excitement, rolling your eyes before looking back over to her.

“I think he’s just being civil. We’ll see, we’re having dinner tonight.” your confession hits her like a stack of bricks and she squeals loudly, gripping your hands tightly.

“I’m gonna drop dead on this expensive gravel beneath my feet. YOU and YOONGI are having dinner tonight?! Like, eating in the presence of one another civilly?!” her blue contacted eyes go wide and her mouth drops open while you nod.

“Yeah. I’m cooking dinner,” you say, confusion enrapturing your tone.

She guffaws loudly, her head lolling back as she gasps for breath. “You’re so insane! This is amazing! He totally fucking likes you!”

“Well… I don’t know about that but-” your voice is cut off by hers.

“Shush! Silence! I’ve said what I’ve said! And it’s the law!” she cries out, pressing her perfectly manicured finger to your lips.

“Sexy girl! Let’s go!” you hear Taehyung scream.

Leena turns her head to the voice before pouting. “You better call me with all the details of your date. I want to know how he looks at you, how he eats his food with you around, how he fucking sneezes. I want the whole laundry list of things that happen tonight!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm before nodding. “Yes ma’am. A laundry list of all the things Min Yoongi does to make me mad.”

She rolls her eyes before kissing your cheek happily.

“Love you, Miss Thing!”

“Love you, too!”

Standing tall, she fixes her long dress. She looks around the garden impressed before folding her arms.

“I’m really happy for you, by the way. I think things are really going to work out here.” she calls to you, starting to walk away.

“Bye Yoongi!” she yells up to the house and your eyes follow hers.

He stands on his large balcony, a cup of coffee in hand staring at you. He bows his head to her, a smirk present on his lips before looking back at you.

“Little dove, good morning.” you hear him say as he retreats back into his room.

How long was he standing there? How much had he heard?

Listening to Frederic drone on about food is something you don’t think you could ever get tired of. He makes the French cook stereotype feel so alive. You’ve been in the kitchen plenty of times, have gone through the cabinets many, many times throughout the nights when staff and the chef were sleeping. But, to hear him feeling the need to explain it all to you as you both take small steps around the gigantic kitchen is humorous and you let him do his thing.

“Now this, this is a sieve. You can strain things through it,” Frederic says, picking up the large strainer.

You hum playfully as you lean down on the island counter.

“I have made my own food before y’know,” you quip to him as he unbuttons his chef’s jacket.

He tuts his tongue as he brushes some hair back behind your ear. “Ah oui, bien sûr Madame. I know, I just want to make sure you know where everything is.”

You smile at his kindness, it must be difficult to relinquish your kitchen to others especially after being in charge for so long.

“I promise I won’t make anything dirty and I promise, cross my heart, that I will take good care of your kitchen,” you swear to him as he throws his chef’s jacket over his shoulder.

He presses both of his hands to either side of your face, wiggling them slightly with a smile.

“Merci, Madame. You are in every word parfaite. I cannot be happier to make you food in this home,” he whispers as you tilt your head with a giggle.

“Go have a good day off, have fun,” you insist as he drifts his hand over the marble countertop, as if he’s finding it hard to say goodbye.

“Oui, bien entendu. I’ll have a drink in your honor, Madame,” he says with a sigh.

You give him a wink as he exits the kitchen and you watch him slowly leave to the maid’s quarter. Your lips sputter as you look around the large, empty kitchen before sighing.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He should be working. He opened up his computer, he grabbed all the necessary documents from both Taehyung and his office but he just can’t seem to focus.

Yoongi can smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen and it makes him curious. What are you making? How do you even know what he likes? Do you even know how to cook?

He wants to know more about you, or try to learn more anyway.

Recalling just this morning, he can hear you so clearly -- “He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.”

You think he’s cold and you’re absolutely right. He always has been and it’s gotten worse these last couple of years.

He doesn’t know who he even is anymore. At least he doesn’t think he does.

Then you mentioned that he came to apologize. It must have meant a lot to you. It was weird for him to feel that aching in his chest, to feel like he fucked up. Even in the past when he’s done and said horrible things -- he never had such an ache.

Something about you just… sends him reeling.

Then he remembers what Leena said, “You better call me with all the details of your date.”

Was this a date? He didn’t even think of it in that way. It’s just two people eating… right?

Just a man and the… mother… of… his… child.

“I need whisky,” he mumbles to himself, standing up.

He hasn’t been on a date in God knows how long. He hasn’t spoken to a woman, truly spoken to one, in what feels like a millennia.

Picking up the empty bottle of whisky from the small bar caddy, he curses to himself.

He decides it’s in his best interest to go all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle. Even though his bedroom is just a floor down.

But, it certainly isn’t because you’re in the kitchen cooking. No. Not at all.

As he gets closer to the kitchen, he can smell different types of herbs and delicious meats cooking. He can smell raw peppers and onions and it makes his mouth water.

Yoongi watches you from afar for a minute, just standing on the last step of the stairwell. You’re humming, the song is sweet and calm. You have on a cute apron around your waist, with small smears of what seem to be a sauce of some kind on it.

He can feel his heart lightening at the simple sight of you. You look so… beautiful. So fucking domestic. And, he feels like he doesn’t even need the alcohol anymore because just watching you makes him drunk.

How bizarre.

“What’re we doing?” Maya whispers from next to the stairwell.

Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, pressing his hand to his heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers fiercely, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He hears the older woman giggle and he rolls his eyes at her giddiness.

“I’m just getting whisky,” he mumbles aloud, still trying to keep quiet in case it would disturb you.

“Oh. I see. I can get it for you, Sir.” she replies and he grabs her wrist gently as she tries to walk away.

“No, no! I got it. It’s okay. I was just…” he can’t even complete his sentence.

What was he doing? Checking you out? He was just watching you, feeling so serene.

“You were being sweet, like I raised you. You were entranced by her.” Maya says.

He grimaces at her. “No! I was just… waiting to see if she burned down the kitchen or not.”

Maya giggles to herself before bowing her head. “Of course, Sir. I see that now.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes off to the maid’s quarter.

He watches you wave to Maya with a shy smile on your face.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

He takes small steps, trying his hardest not to disturb you as he walks by the long bar.

“Oh, hey Yoongi!”

Your voice is so sweet. Especially when you say his name.

“Smells good,” he calls to you, walking through the small hallway before appearing in the kitchen.

“Thanks! I hope you like it,” you reply happily as you stir something in the pot.

As he takes in your face, he snorts gently at a small stain by your cheek.

“I think you’re a messy cook,” he teases, walking towards you.

“Huh?” you ask confused.

Stepping in front of you, he taps his index finger to the underside of your chin.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

As you look up at him, he can feel himself falling into your eyes. You’re so doe-like and precious even when you don’t know it. It’s kind of miraculous.

Wiping his thumb over your cheek, he snorts gently. Your breath hitches in your throat as he strokes his thumb over you.

“What’re you making for dinner?” he asks, trying to distract himself from how soft your skin is.

“Well, I made a lot of things.” you reply, pulling your face away from him to look down at the pot.

He hums inquisitively, grabbing a glass off of a rack and pulling out the whisky.

“Do tell, little dove. You’re making me hungry,” he jeers, pouring himself a large portion of the alcohol.

“Well for the appetizer, I made brussel sprouts with parmesan and bacon and a small salad. For the soup, I made a soybean sprout soup. And, the main course is veal with lemon butter sauce and glazed carrots.” you tell him proudly.

He begins to smirk at how pleased you are with yourself.

“Sounds good, I’m excited,” he replies, lifting his glass.

You giggle gently, turning off the burner underneath the pot.

Leaning down on the marble island across from him, you rub your hands together.

“I hope you like it,” you whisper.

You sound shy now and it peeks his interest. You’re like a frail flower. It’s so difficult to get a read on you or put you in a category. But, maybe that’s how it should be. You shouldn’t just be one specific way, you should be well rounded. And he thinks you’ve got that.

“I’m sure I will. Although, didn’t I put in the contract that you shouldn’t be eating so much?”

Finally for once it doesn’t come out as gruff and angry, it was meant to be a joke. Luckily for him, it came out that way.

You find yourself smiling, almost having the urge to stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“I haven’t been able to cook in a long time, this feels nice. Eating a lot once in a while isn’t so bad,” you counter good-naturedly.

He raises his glass at your words. “Touche. Little dove, touche.”

You lean your head on your shoulder, your fingers skimming over each other as you look down at the marble beneath you. For once, the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s pleasant.

“Was it nice to see Leena this morning?” he knows the answer, but he wants to see you smile wider.

And so you do. Brimming from ear to ear, you nod.

“So nice! I’m so happy that I got to see her,” you admit, looking up at him.

“Well, she can come over whenever she wants. It’s in the contract,” he suggests.

“I didn’t know if I wanted her to come over yet, y’know. With Sera around and stuff…” your answer falls flat as Yoongi chuckles across from you.

“That’d be like putting two piranhas in a tank and seeing who wins,” he chuckles.

You snort gently, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

He watches you fix things up around the kitchen, cleaning as you go.

And finally he speaks after some time. “What can I do to help?”

Humming you shrug with a smirk. "I got it. Why don't you go relax for a while?" you suggest.

As you go to lift the pot, Yoongi whistles loudly as if to tell you to stop.

"I read that pregnant women shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Don't even think about it. I got it," he insists, waving his hand for you to move.

"You read something?" your voice is wrapped with humor as you move over.

"Very funny, little dove. Go set up the table," he instructs with an ever present smirk on his face.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, his stomach was full of delicious food by now but he can't stop picking at his plate. A true testament to how great of a cook you are.

"Damn." he whispers, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

You smirk across the table, your arms folding with pride.

"Good?" you ask softly, grabbing your drink.

"Very good. I'm impressed," he says as he slings his arm over the top of his chair.

You giggle gently, your head lolling back to look at the clear night sky.

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks, watching as you count the stars.

So here it is. Will he be as truthful as you? Will he talk to you?

"My parents. My dad always liked cooking more than my mother. She was sick a lot when I was young. Always in the hospital. So my dad got comfort from making her food and I used to take it to her," you answer, looking back down at him.

Yoongi nods gently, it's starting to click in his mind. "That's why you hate hospitals?"

"That's why I hate hospitals. There was a time when she was admitted for a bad stomach ache and she got worse in the hospital because the bedding and the nurses weren't clean." you reply breathlessly.

The father of your child cringes at the thought, taking a sip of his whisky.

"You?"

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath. He stares at your face and the task at hand is daunting. If people didn't already know him, he didn't open up. But, he should open up to you.

Or he thinks so anyway. You're having his child, you should know about him. And maybe if he speaks his history then it will break the cycle. Then he won't turn into his parents, he won't have a fucked up kid like himself.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you say quickly.

You can see him wrought with nervousness. Just the prospect of letting things out must terrify him.

"No, I should talk about them. If not with you then surely a therapist," he jokes out of worry.

But, then he looks at your face. He feels that sense of dizzying calm once more. Like everything is going to be okay.

He chugs the rest of his whisky, his mouth watering and grimacing.

"No, I don't know how to cook. I'm not even sure my parents know how to cook-" he lets out a breath, letting the warm fire of the alcohol in his belly keep him going, "-they never took care of me. I was born and they were relieved to have a boy so they didn't have to try again."

You hum sadly at his words, tucking your legs beneath you as he runs his hand over his face.

"Maya has always taken care of me. She's always loved and cared for me. She's my mother by all accounts, if I'm being honest. My father was a very big disciplinarian… if that's what you want to call it. Most people would say abusive," he says, pouring himself another glass of whisky.

"Kneeling on rice, getting hit with sharp objects, burning cigarettes out. Things like that," he waves off the notion with his hand, shivering while even speaking the words.

Your heart breaks for him, thinking of how painful that must have been when he was a child.

"I haven't seen my parents in… four years now, since I got married. I hate them." he spits at the ground beneath his feet.

You can see the emotional turmoil he's reliving. You can't imagine how difficult that is.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and he shakes his head fiercely.

Picking up his fork, he taps it gently to the fine china as he thinks.

"So I grew up hating authority because of them and the teachers at Sairmount. They always said I should be doing better because of my position and what I would grow into. I hated that. Even when I tried my best I received no praise, and if I made one mistake it was like the end of the world. So I ended up just kind of… becoming a shell."

You nod to his words, your index finger swirling around the rim of your glass.

"What else, little dove?" he asks softly.

As he tilts his head, you take in his handsome features. He's just a product of his environment. You wonder what he would be like if he could thrive.

"I heard that you go to BDSM clubs and stuff, is that because you feel the need to put people in pain like you were when you were younger?" you ask, trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth almost as if you've burned him.

"Jesus. You might as well be my therapist," he mumbles, running his hand over his face.

But, he doesn't feel awkward talking to you. He likes this. He appreciates how you listen. How your eyes stay soft and you don't judge him.

"When I was younger -- I was probably sixteen when I developed a taste for it. I was getting angry and violent. I was breaking shit and I needed to funnel that into something. So I started going to a club and learned how to be a dom. It was about the comfort of being in charge. I would have a sub and tell them to jump. They would say how high. I thrived off of being in charge. Thrived off people doing my bidding sexually. It just felt right for me to tell someone what to do and have them want to do it for me. I was in charge, people listened to me, I didn't have to do things others wanted. People did what I wanted them to do. I've toned it down since then."

"You were pretty dominating with me," you offer softly.

He chuckles at how innocent you look, his index finger swiping slowly over his lower lip. "That's because you're so sweet. I wanted to wreck you."

With a gentle giggle, you put your elbow on the table before resting your head on your hand.

"You kind of did," you reply, putting your hand on your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand and he begins to smirk above his glass.

"Clearly," he whispers, his eyes slowly drifting up your body to your swollen tits.

He licks his lips slowly, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently.

He never understood the attraction to pregnant women like his friend Jimin. The younger man was obsessed with the notion of it and Yoongi couldn't possibly begin to grasp it. But now, with you sitting here before him, he might be beginning to understand.

Averting his eyes from you, he tries to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

"What else do you want to know, little dove?" he asks, trying to distract himself.

Your cheeks puff out as you think, your fingers combing through your hair gently.

"Sera? What's with her. If you hate her so much why did you get married to her?" you whisper.

Well, that's something to kill the sexual mood he was starting to feel.

He spits on the ground at the simple name of her. He stares far off into the distance, his eyes lingering on a grove of trees Baeksoo has so kindly planted.

"Sera…" he mumbles, stretching out his legs.

You might as well know. You aren't going anywhere in his life.

"Jesus, I think about it everyday and it still makes me mad," he chuckles to himself, the sound bitter and full of resentment.

You watch his face contort in pain, just the simple memory making it hard to withstand.

Without a second thought you're moving your chair. The sound is loud as you move the heavy metal and he watches you with amused eyes. Finally, your seat is next to him and you huff out gently.

"What?" he asks gently as you plop back down.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers to bring him peace. His head lolls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut at the simple move. It's a simple thing to hold hands but it feels powerful when it's you.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say to him.

His thumb drifts over the back of your hand, his eyes opening to the numerous stars that hang brightly in the sky.

"Everyone knows I hate her but no one truly knows why. Maya, Joon, Hoseok, they know. Hell, Hoseok dives deep into her bitter cunt at night and he knows." he shakes his head gently, his eyes flitting from star to star.

You begin to bite your lip nervously as he squeezes your hand tighter.

"I didn't always hate her. I loved her once. I loved the prospect of her anyway," he breathes out, his hand gripping tighter at yours, "I was engaged at fourteen. It was mandatory, the leech's parents were friends with my parents. Their company was going down the drain, they almost had to declare bankruptcy. So this was the easiest thing for both parties. It's very normal in the high profile life to be engaged to someone else for money. It didn't bother me at all that I was engaged, so were the people around me. I thought I was going to have a life like Namjoon."

He snorts at the simple thought and mindlessly he tugs your hand with his over your stomach.

Just the thought of his baby inside of you brings him peace.

With a gentle sigh, he continues. "She didn't go to school with us and I had only seen her a few times at balls and galas. She was annoying back then and she was always brisk with people. But I liked that, I guess. Because I was the same way. I had a childish crush on her for so long and it kept growing as we got older."

He stops talking only to down another glass of whiskey. He closes his eyes as you run your hand comfortingly over his. "When I moved into this house, I had it renovated to please her. I did anything and everything to make her happy. And I was so… excited to have someone that was mine. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn't want our marriage to be like my parents. And, now it's worse."

You find how sad he is depressing. Frowning, you click your teeth softly.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

Shaking his head, Yoongi looks at you. He gives you a sad smile. It's heart wrenching to look at his handsome face so distraught.

Even if he can be an asshole sometimes, you can understand him better now. That's all you wanted. You just wanted to be able to connect the dots.

"It was the night of our wedding, that's when I became aware of how awful of a person Sera is." he says, staring off into the distance.

He couldn't understand why she wanted to get married on New Years. It's freezing cold but if it makes her happy then he should do it. It'll be his duty as a husband anyhow.

"Come!" Taehyung whines to him as he sits in the booth.

"I'm not having sex with a woman the day before I'm getting married. That'd be such a dickish thing to do," he counters as Taehyung wraps his arms around the stripper beside him.

"You've been celibate for a year or some shit. You abstaining for the Lord or for the sake of your new bride is not going to make you a born again virgin, okay?" the younger man asks with a laugh, running his hand over the stripper's pert backside.

Rolling his eyes, the Kisung CEO takes a sip from his drink.

"It's not about being a born again virgin, you moron. It's about fidelity. It's about trust. She and I agreed that we would just be for each other." Yoongi barks out gruffly.

Taehyung grimaces at the simple thought. "Fine. Well whatever pact you have with your blushing new bride is depressing me. I'm going to get my dick wet with… Luna. That's your name, right?" the hotel CEO asks the woman on his arm.

She giggles loudly, the sound frightening and way too forced. "Laura, silly!"

"Yeah. That. Bye Hyung. Try to cheer the fuck up or something." Tae calls, picking the stripper up with his strong arms before swinging her over his shoulder.

Yoongi snorts loudly, his eyes flitting from here to there in the large strip club. This wasn't for him anymore. He would be married now. To a woman all his.

He's been living in this fantasy. Waking up on weekend mornings next to his wife, eating breakfast together. Having a few kids. Being able to enjoy each other's company.

He loves the idea of that. He's gone through so much terrible pain in his lifetime. Maybe, fate is telling him he deserves a reward now.

Standing up, he finishes the rest of his drink. He tosses a few hundred bucks onto the table before heading out.

He knows it's not customary to see his bride the night before the wedding but, maybe he can just have a talk with her. He's dying to see her.

For once, Yoongi let someone else take the penthouse besides him. Sera should be fully comfortable before her big day.

They bought out the whole hotel. She wanted to be married in Italy on New Years. She wanted diamonds dripping from the fucking ceiling and she would have it. She would have it all.

The walk from the strip club to the hotel wasn't far. Yoongi can see the lights on in the penthouse and his heart begins to hammer in delight at the thought of seeing her.

She's so fucking beautiful. Albeit, she can be a little irritating at times but who isn't? She's almost godly in his eyes.

He's been waiting for this day since he was fourteen. He can remember when Namjoon got engaged. How fucking against it he was.

Joon always wanted to do things his way. He wanted to pick who he was with, he wanted to be happy on his own. He despised Yoona for years before their big day a year ago. Then he found out how similar they are. He fell in love with everything she's in love with.

Yoongi hopes it'll be the same.

The ride up the elevator to the penthouse is quiet. Gentle muzak plays that seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

Sera might be really big on traditions. She might have him sit in the living room for them just to talk but that's okay too. Whatever she wants.

The elevator opens silently and Yoongi fixes his blazer in the hallway mirror. He smiles to himself softly, looking like nothing can bring him down from this cloud.

Until he hears it. Until he hears the gentle groaning of a man in his sexual pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Sera. Do it again, you filthy slut." he hears and his world comes crashing down around him.

"Yeah, fuck. You like that? Your cock is so much bigger than Yoongi's. I want you to come play with me during the week while he's at work," she sounds breathless.

The CEO's eyes flutter shut and he grips onto the table before him to keep him steady.

"Yeah. I'd bet you'd fucking like that. I bet you love the idea of me fucking your little cunt while your husband is away at work. Let me cum in your pussy before the cuck gets home. You'll let him in this pussy with my cum inside of you," the voice is that of Sera's driver. The one man Yoongi never even gave any thought to.

His hand feels for the wall. His legs are shaking by now and he slowly slides down the gold wall, pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Cum on my cock, you fucking slut."

The sound of her orgasming will never leave his brain. He can hear how pleased she is.

Yoongi in his past has had sex with others too. But, they promised to be faithful to one another. He believed her.

He can feel his eyes welling up with tears as he squeezes them shut tighter.

He thought fate was giving him a helping hand. He was going to be happy! What has he done so wrong in his life for misery to consistently stay?!

Heavy breathing is heard throughout the silent penthouse.

"Why did you promise that stupid fuck you would be only for him?" Jungmo, the driver, asks breathlessly.

Sera giggles, a sound once so adorable it brought Yoongi to his knees.

"Because I want his fucking money. There's no prenup if he thinks I'm all for him. He genuinely thinks that I love him. He thinks I care about whatever the fuck has happened in his miserable past. Do you know that he told me that his dad used to burn cigarettes out on his skin? I was supposed to feel sorry for him." Jungmo and Sera laugh along with one another.

Yoongi's mouth opens at the sheer atrocity he's listening to. She's so fucking cruel. How did he never see this? How could he have this happen to him?

"You were supposed to feel sorry for that billionaire while you're only sitting barely comfortable at seven million!?"

"I know, right?! The fucking nerve! Like, he doesn't even understand that my life has been so much worse! I had to almost go fucking bankrupt! Who gives a fuck about your sad past? What about me?"

The CEO tugs at the blazer fabric situated above his heart. He clamps his hand tighter over his mouth to stifle the sob raring to break free from his throat.

"I can't wait to take all his fucking money and leave him with only his sad little memories."

Crawling over to the elevator, he pushes the button softly. Praying to God that it doesn't make any noise when it opens.

She's such a cruel bitch. So fucking vile.

He stands up on shaky legs as the door opens without a sound. Pushing the button for the floor below him, he waits until the door closes.

He waits until he is safe in his room.

He wails loudly, falling onto the carpeted flooring of the hotel room. He gasps for air, hands digging and pulling at his hair.

He cries for an hour, maybe more. Time seemingly stops in his distraught state.

When he calms himself down, he pulls out his phone. He crawls over to the bar caddy, wiping viciously at the tears he's spilled for the woman upstairs.

Yoongi doesn't even grab a glass, he just pulls the bottle of whisky down to the floor.

Sitting back against the long bar of the room, he dials the only number he can right now.

The sound of the phone ringing is so loud, it makes him want to weep all over again.

"Yoongi? It's two in the morning, what the fuck?" Namjoon calls blearily, through the phone.

"Joon… Please come to my room." his voice cracks and breaks as he picks up the bottle of whisky.

"Jesus, are you okay?" his best friend asks quickly.

"I need… I need a prenup. Please. Come." Yoongi begs, lifting the bottle to his lips.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Joon calls to him before the line goes dead.

He gulps down the whisky at a ferocious speed, the liquor swirling and settling in his guts. The fire flaming and goading him on to no avail.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

Yoongi launches the bottle across the room, burying his face into his knees as the sound of glass echoes all around him.

"Oh Yoongi. I'm so sorry," you whisper, clutching tighter to his hand.

Yoongi finds himself laughing at the memory now. He was so blind back then. So lovestruck.

"Nothing that isn't fixed now, little dove. Now we're both trapped in this marriage." his voice is devoid of emotion as he picks up the liquor bottle.

You can see how hurt he is even now. How reliving the memory is something akin to death to him.

You lean in towards his body. You press your lips to his cheek and he grabs you tighter at the feeling.

"Maybe that's why I liked you in the club? Because you seemed so completely opposite of the whore that lives in my house," he says finally as you pull away.

He turns his face to you, your lips just mere inches apart.

Yoongi lifts his hand, placing it gently on your cheek.

"You're a good girl, Y/N. You're so kind and sweet. Fucking understanding. You're going to be a great mother. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with me. Deal with an asshole every day. It isn't fair to you," he whispers, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek.

His hand is so warm against your skin, so soft. He's being so gentle.

"You're not an asshole. Not truly." you reply softly.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "See. You're almost too kind."

You giggle as his hand drifts down the column of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jawline.

"I'm serious. You can be an asshole, for sure. But it's because of all the terrible things that have happened to you. If you were happy, really and truly happy. You might flourish. You might be able to find yourself again." you reply.

It comes out as a suggestion but it's really a wish. No one should ever be put through what he has had happen to him.

He tilts his head unsurely, pulling away from you.

"You're going to be a great dad. I won't let you be anything but a good dad to your child. No one is perfect, Yoongi. We can do this together." you say, earnestly.

Together.

The word makes his heart rate pick up speed.

You're pretty perfect in his eyes.

He can tell as you sit with one another, how heavy your eyelids are getting.

"You're tired," he observes.

"No, I'm okay!" you reply quickly to him.

He clicks his teeth, eyes narrowing at you. "We're going to be truthful with each other from here on in. Are you tired?"

With a hesitant hum, you nod. "A little. The baby makes me tired a lot these days."

"Okay." Yoongi whispers finitely.

Standing up, he moved your chair for you. With a simple grunt, he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

"I can walk!" you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So can I." he jeers cutely.

Wading with sure steps through the house, you find how easy it is for him to look down at you. His eyes are soft when they look upon you now. Like telling you about his life has taken a huge weight off of his shoulders.

He kicks open your bedroom door with a smirk.

"There would have been a time I would have died to bring you up here to ravage you," he says, goodnaturedly.

"You still can." you sing softly as he lays you down on your bed.

"We'll see, hmm?" he whispers as he lifts the covers for you.

"Stay," you mumble, arranging the pillows to your liking.

"You want me to sleep with you?!" Yoongi feels frightened at the notion.

"Yeah… just stay. Don't leave me," you whisper as you close your eyes.

He hesitantly walks around to the other side of the bed. He fumbles with his pants and his shirt almost embarrassingly so.

Yoongi hasn't laid with anyone in years. He hasn't thought about doing so in ages.

"Did you leave?" your voice is just above a whisper.

He watches you for a second, how pretty and serene you look with your hair splayed over the pillow.

"No, little dove. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, laying down beside you.

Swallowing thickly, he gets comfortable under the same covers as you.

This is bizarre.

Tiredly, you pull his hand. His eyes go wide as you situate it over your stomach.

"It's not a big deal, Yoongi. Just sleep." You mumble as you turn onto your back.

He can feel the tiny bump developing under his hand.

It is a big deal.

To him.

He brushes some hair out of your face gently.

Maybe Sera wasn't his start to a new life. Maybe it's you.

Next Chapter ---->

Third wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebuggy, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[lovenona]

I just haad to say thank you for the free serotonin that you have provided me with through the last artist sukuna post

it's just... ✨beautifull✨ we are slowly building up this au

BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM GETTING MORE AND MORE FRUSTRATED WITH THE LACK OF ATTENTION WERE HE'S KIND OF POUTING

and then there need to be a project done in which you have the option to work in groups and NO MATTER WHAT this proud cherry haired idiot WILL work alone but geto won't he came to y/n and they really need to work in a group if they want to get this done so of course y/n is happily gonna agree to the offer of geto to work together they do be viben after all which ultimately leads to the fact that y/n is gonna give sukuna even less attention (it probably doesn't even get on his nerves that much that y/n works with geto its just the lack of attention and ultimately time spending with you that result from it)

ah i am sorry I was rambling again😂

anyways hope you have a nice day and don't stress yourself too much with answering always happy to see you post❤️

babe let me just say ur brain is massive and i thank u from the bottom of my heart – anyway here’s the original post for everyone about to embark on this godforsaken journey with art student sukuna and our new friend pretentious fuck geto suguru 

if you thought you were pitiful at drawing, your sculptural skills are on another level of true and utter shit. you cannot, for the life of you, create things out of clay. you despise carving anything into wood. your pottery faithfully collapses on you whenever you try. you hate working with glass. you would have dropped the class, honest, if you didn’t desperately need it in order to fulfill your major requirements and graduate on time. 

all in all, it’s an awful class created solely to tank your gpa – you don’t understand what you’re doing, you don’t understand what anything is supposed to look like, and you sure as fuck don’t understand how anyone else seems to have their shit together all the time. when you glance around the room, no one, not even the famous ryomen sukuna, has trouble making their materials turn into something recognizable.

(and, in true sukuna fashion, he loves to make sure you know how fucking untalented you are.) 

so when anthropology-and-ceramics king geto suguru asks if you want to be partners for the next big art project, you agree without a second thought. you’ve been talking to him recently, small talk before class, and for all his pretentious faults, you think he’s delightfully hot as fuck with a smooth voice to match. he wears those crisp, expensive button-downs that he bought at overpriced local craft markets. he always smells like cedar and eucalyptus; he brings a different tote bag to every class, his favorite being one he got as a gift for subscribing to the new yorker. he shops organic only and throws around the words “fair trade” and “bourgeoisie” and “means of production” with the ease that sukuna throws around the words “fuck” and “shit.” 

you think geto is fascinating. and maybe he talks down to you when explaining his anthropology knowledge, he absolutely does, but when he gazes at you with those warm eyes and offers to help you learn how to sculpt and raise your grades, you can’t help but agree with a pair of big pathetic doe eyes. 

why wouldn’t you? you’re just here for a good time, after all.

so when you giggle as geto places his sinfully smooth, manicured hands over yours while teaching you how to use the pottery wheel, you don’t think much of it. you think he’s cute and warm. you’d be a fool to notice the dark annoyance radiating from the other corner of the room.

ryomen sukuna always works alone. but what he didn’t count on was that you wouldn’t be working alone with him. 

it’s not that you’re working with geto, he swears. it’s that you’re not working with him. his ears feel strangely empty without your argumentative quips, without the way you tell him he’s infuriating and annoying every time he tells you something lewd just to fluster you. it’s strangely empty without you both arguing about the difference between great artists and sell-outs – were you here, in his corner of the room, maybe sukuna would have tried to tell you michelangelo was a loser just to see what you would say. 

but you’re not with him. you’re listening to geto tell you about the time he went to study abroad in germany and how he took a trip to morocco where he tried some amazing food you’ve never heard of. he’s telling you about the time he helped make tampons in botswana after his senior year of high school and all of the other deliciously precocious things he has done for the sake of human rights and anti-capitalism. 

(you’re killing the environment, you know, geto often admonishes you when you stumble into class with your cup of coffee. that cup is going to end up in a landfill. he always taks a sip from his hydroflask for emphasis. it’s sleek and black with an oxfam sticker on it.

and sure, you know that your cup is going to become trash. geto doesn’t have to be an annoying fuck and tell you when it’s only eleven in the morning and he drove a literal moped to campus. but still, with that silky man-bun, everything he does is okay.) 

but understand that sukuna doesn’t hate geto. sukuna craves attention, and he absolutely cannot stand being ignored. he’ll pout without realizing it, pursing his lips and wondering what kind of circus act he needs to perform to win back your presence. should he get another tattoo? cuss out the professor? offer to fuck you senseless in the third-floor bathroom? he’s not sure – he’s never not been seen before. ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what it’s like to come in second. 

so he intercepts you after class; in a manner that is both sukuna-and-not-sukuna, he’ll casually throw one of his heavy arms over your shoulders, subtly pulling you away from geto’s aura, wrapping you in his scent of earth and leather and sex appeal. “come on, puppy,” he says, sultry and annoying and condescending all wrapped in one, tapping his ring-clad fingers against your arm. “you’re supposed to help me write my paper, aren’t you?” it’s not a question, it’s a demand, one you know deep down that you would rather die than shy away from. 

you might not like sukuna, you tell yourself, but there’s something about him, the way he talks and moves and exists in the world, that makes you unable to shy away. there’s something about him that always makes you want more without you quite knowing why. 

(he kissed you, once. sometimes you wonder if you would like it to happen again.) 

and you’re still nestled under sukuna’s arm, trapped in his orbit and following him to his favorite empty classrooms, when geto calls back to you, wondering if you’re still interested in going to the avant-garde poetry reading with him tomorrow night. 

he’s going to present a poem he wrote on the terrors inflicted on south america by the united states, geto had explained earlier when his hands were on yours. it was going to be some real, hard-hitting poetry, none of that “rupi kaur bullshit.” he thought it might enlighten you to join him, perhaps in more ways than one.

you pretend you don’t notice the way sukuna’s arm tightens around your shoulders when you tell geto with a flirtatious smile that you can’t wait. 

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

[rafecameron]

sunkissed

summary: Sarah’s pen pal of several years finally comes to visit - she can’t help but fall for her friends older brother

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 8K

a/n: I don’t really go here anymore but i wrote this a couple months ago and a few people said they wanted to read it so here to go (gif is mine)

Dear y/n,

               You will never believe what’s been happening! I’ve fallen in love (for real this time)! And he’s a pogue! His names John B, he works on my dads boat, I know cliché. I thought I was happy with my life, thought I had everything planned out and everything was perfect but I never realised how much I was missing! The pogues are all so carefree - considering. They just do whatever they want and it’s always fun, I haven’t stopped laughing since I’ve been hanging out with them.

My brother isn’t very happy about it, but he’s not very happy about anything really. He called me a traitor for hanging out with pogues, he’s so annoying! I can’t wait for him to go off to college or something and just get out of my hair!

The second bit of good news? My dad said you can come stay for the summer! As in the whole summer! Now you just have to get permission and we can finally see each other again! I’m so excited let me know as soon as you can come!

                                                       Love, Sarah.

It was written in her neat hand on her usual pale pink paper. You loved the end of the month when you’d receive a letter from your best friend. Best friend. It always felt strange and people never understood how you could have a best friend you had met on vacation when you were seven. You hadn’t seen each other since but you had promised to keep in touch with letters and you had much to both your parents surprise. You loved when Sarah would complain about her older brother and younger sister, she was always so dramatic when she spoke about them. You also couldn’t believe that not only had she fallen in love (again - this was the twelfth time since you were seven) but she had gotten permission for you to stay the rest of the summer and had waiting to tell you via letter! You grabbed your phone off of your night stand and quickly hit the call button under her name, waited a few rings, then her cheerful voice answered.

“Y/N! Did you get my letter?” She asks quickly.

“Yes. I can’t believe you haven’t already told me about your new boyfriend! Or that I’m allowed to come and stay!” You complain.

“You know I like saving my good news for the letters. It feels more...romantic.” She giggles down the phone, “so, can you stay?”

“I haven’t asked yet. I can’t see why they’d say no.” You roll over onto your back, smiling widely up at the ceiling, “so tell me about John B!”

And she did. She told you everything they had done together so far, how amazing he was, how charming and funny and hot. He didn’t much sound like yours or Sarah’s type at all but you couldn’t help the grin on your face hearing how happy she sounded when she spoke about him. You stayed on the phone for well over an hour listening to her gush over her new man before finally hanging up.

You were excited at the prospect of finally seeing Sarah again but also a little hesitant. She sounded so wrapped up and in love with John B that you were sure you would be the third wheel for the whole summer. Or the sixth wheel, after hearing about her new friends too. But the excitement of seeing Sarah won over your worries so you ran downstairs to ask permission to go. After lots of begging and lots of sucking up, your parents said yes.

—-

You had never been anywhere on your own before so you were nervous the minute your parents left you at the dock to board the ferry. You were sure something would go wrong. You’d lose your ticket. You’d get on the wrong boat. But amazingly everything went smoothly and before you knew it you were getting off the other side. The midday sun was blaring down already, it was much hotter out here on the island than it was where you lived well into the mainland.

You walk along the dock, trying your best to see over the top of people’s heads to try and spot your friend. You were slowly starting to worry she wasn’t here until you saw the blonde leaning against a post, you hurried over probably bashing people with your bags but you didn’t care.

Sarah spotted you as you ran closer, her face suddenly breaking out into a wide grin as you dropped your bags and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh my god you’re finally here!” She cheers squeezing you back just was hard.

“It’s been a long time coming.” You smile giving her one last squeeze before letting go, “So, what's on the agenda for this summer?”

“We’re going to have the best summer ever!” Sarah links her arm through yours after you pick your bag up, “We’re going to go shopping, have late nights watching movies, parties on the beach! It’s going to be amazing.”

You agree and throw your bag into the back of Sarah’s car before climbing into the passenger seat. The whole drive to her house you let her gush about John B and how amazing he was, you refrained from pointing out she’d already told you over the phone. You loved seeing her face light up when she spoke about him and only wished you could feel that way about someone one day.

You knew Sarah’s house would be big however it was a lot bigger than you ever imagined it would be. But as you drew closer it wasn’t the house that was drawing your attention but the boy in front of it. He was wearing a grey T-shirt, tight against his biceps as he leant over a bike rubbing at it with a cloth. You couldn’t stop your eyes from watching his arms as they flexed cleaning the bike.

“Okay, disgusting. Can you stop eye fucking my brother?” Sarah laughs and pushes your shoulder, “I cannot deal with that all summer.”

“That’s Rafe?” You ask looking back over to him, “Why didn’t you tell me your brother was hot?”

“Ew, he’s my brother he’s not hot! He’s also an asshole.” She rolls her eyes before finally climbing out of the car. You follow suit, pulling your bag from the back and following her towards the house. Your eyes land back on Rafe as you walk past but the boy doesn’t look up from his task so you turn away and follow Sarah into the house.

——

“Fucking hell JJ you’re gonna set everything on fire!” Pope shouts, the boy jumps up and runs after the blonde who was currently running around the yard with a burning log pretending to be a caveman.

“Is he always like that?” You ask looking at the curly haired girl beside you.

“Oh, yeah,” she nods, “He’s an idiot.”

You laugh and watch Pope grab the log from JJ, telling his friend off before he threw the log back into the bonfire. JJ followed Pope back to the circle, sitting down in a sulk as he took an angry gulp from his beer.

“Never any fun.” He mutters to himself before breaking out in a grin, “Hey, y/n you haven’t seen my party trick! Let’s take the boat out!”

“JJ it’s pitch black,” Kie shakes her head, “You can barely do it in daylight, you’ll end up falling overboard and drowning.”

JJ let’s out another huff, “Alright, what am I supposed to do for fun then?”

Sarah had brought you to John B’s chateau to meet her friends. John B was not at all how you imagined him but you liked him well enough. Kie was lovely as was Pope and you looked forward to hanging out with them more. JJ was definitely a little chaotic and not someone you would usually hang out with but he seemed to have good intentions so you were sure he’d grow on you.

The night was full of drinking and laughing, the boys running around like idiots as you and the girls fell about laughing at their antics. This was the kind of thing you thought about when you thought of perfect summer nights. Drinks with friends, evenings full of laughter with music and a bonfire.

——

You were thankful that you didn’t drink too much the night before when you woke up with a clear head. You poked your head into Sarah’s room to find her still fast asleep, arm dangling off the bed as her face pressed into the pillows.

You made our way around the kitchen, opening up every cupboard in search of a glass. You let out a huff of frustration when you open your fourth cupboard to find plates and still no glasses.

“Need a hand?” A voice asks, causing you to jump back in surprise.

You spin around to see Sarah’s brother leaning against the doorframe, apparently having watched you search the kitchen for the last few minutes.

“Glasses?” You ask hopefully.

He shoots you a small smirk and walks into the kitchen towards the cupboard furthest from you and hands you a glass from it.

“Coffee?” He asks, already placing two mugs down onto the counter.

“Sure, thanks.” You take the glass and fill it with water from the fridge, gladly accepting the steaming mug of coffee the boy offers.

“I’m Rafe.” He finally introduces himself.

“I know, Sarah’s annoying older brother,” you let out a laugh, “Y/N.” You offer him your name with a slight smile.

“So you’re the pen pal, isn’t that a bit redundant now?” He leans against the counter, legs crossed slightly as he looks over at you.

You copy his stance opposite him and shrug, “Somewhat, but there’s something a lot more personal about receiving a letter, more intimate. I think it’s a shame people don’t do it anymore.”

“But a text is much quicker.” Rafe shrugs, seeming to miss the point completely, but it’s what you expected.

“Yes, it is quicker.” You agree.

A silence falls over the kitchen, a silence that’s surprisingly not awkward. You study Rafe as he looks down at his mug, hand moving in circles as his eyes watch the brown liquid move around. You weren’t sure what you expected Rafe to be like, but you were sure this wasn’t it. From what Sarah had described you expected someone loud, boisterous and irritating. Someone who would laugh at you not being able to find the glasses and walk away leaving you confused. Not someone who would pass you the glass you were desperately searching for and then offer you a coffee on top.

He looks up. Striking eyes meet yours and he smiles for the first time but it doesn’t reach the blue of his eyes, it stops somewhere just past the corners of his lips.

“How do you like the outer banks then?” He asks.

“Love it.” You beam, you laugh at the look Rafe shoots you, “No really! It’s so nice to be away from the city. This is what summer is supposed to be like, beaches and bonfires, not walking around busy streets.”

Rafe ponders your answer for a moment, “I guess. It’s just hard, when you’re used to it it gets kind of boring and repetitive.”

“Well, maybe you should find some new hobbies then.” You smile.

Rafe let’s out a chuckle, it’s dry and seems forced, “Yeah, maybe I should. Well, if you get bored hanging around the Pogues, come find me and I’ll show you how a summer should be spent.” He shoots you a wink and exits the kitchen. That, you think, is more the Rafe you were expecting.

——

“You’re not going to go, are you?” Sarah inquiries for the second time.

You’d just finished telling her about your morning meeting with Rafe and she’s been adamant you shouldn’t hang out with him. Not that you were planning to in the first place, but now she had explicitly said you shouldn’t, you kind of wanted to.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, “No Sarah. I came here to hang out with you, not your brother.”

Sarah smiles, happy with your answer she links her arm through yours like she had the day before. You both had beach bags slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards the golden sea of sand.

The rest of the group were already on the beach. John B and Kie were digging around in the cool box looking for beers while JJ was building a sandcastle around Popes legs.

You liked the beach and you liked Sarah’s friends but you found yourself growing bored quickly. It was too hot to lay around in the sun and you had never been a fan of the ocean so refused the offers of learning to surf. Even if you liked the water you didn’t imagine you’d be any good, your balance definitely comparable to bambi on ice.

Sarah was attached to her boyfriend at the hip, you didn’t blame her, she’s young and in love but it wasn’t very fun for you. You wished you’d brought a book or your headphones with you. It wasn’t until Kie mentioned a party that you perked up a bit, a party, that was definitely more your scene.

“Where?” You ask leaning up on your elbows on the towel.

“On the beach of course,” Kie holds a beer out towards you, “Pre drinks?” She grins waving it around.

You take the can from her and crack it open, trying to plan out your outfit in your head. Usually you’d wear a dress and heels to a party, but you didn’t expect that would be the best attire for a beach party. It was probably more of an occasion for shorts, a tank top and sandals.

——

The beach was crowded by the time you got there, a lot busier than you expected it to be. You were more than shocked when you noticed Rafe and what you guessed were his friends while you were getting your second drink. You hadn’t expected him to attend a party on this side of the beach, seeing his apparent hatred for the pogues.

He catches your eyes and sends you a nod before turning back to his conversation and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face. Rafe didn’t seem like the dick Sarah had made him out to be and you were glad to have another friendly face around.

You were in your own world, dancing around with your fifth beer in hand when an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You spin, glad the arm was tight around you or you would have toppled over. Rafe is stood smiling down at you, you could tell from his eyes he’d drank a fair bit but he didn’t seem too intoxicated.

“Still having fun pogueing around?” He asks.

You should shrug his arm away from you but you find you enjoy the weight of it against you and lean into him more.

“I guess,” your fingers play with the red cup in your hand, “I mean, there’s nothing else to do, is there?” You half tease.

Rafe can sense your playful tone and matches it with a smirk, “I’ve already said I’ll show you a good time.”

“Sarah would kill me if I went running off with you,” you admit, leaving the part about wanting to anyway unsaid.

“Well, when she’s not looking you know where to find me.” He smirks, letting his fingers linger on your shoulder for a second longer before he sauntered away back into the throng of drunk party goers.

——

It was a week later when you finally took Rafe up on his offer, after you had promised Sarah the only reason you didn’t want to go out on the boat was because it had made you sea sick the day before. She’d pouted but eventually agreed on going without you. Rafe offered for you to join him and his friends at the golf course. Golf was definitely not your thing, but when you options were that or spend the day in the house alone and hope you don’t bump into ward, you chose the former.

“I thought you were going to show me how a summer should be spent.” You complain as you lean against one of Rafes golf club watching him and his friends line up for the seventeenth hole.

“This is how a summer should be spent.” Rafe comments, raising his beer into the air, “Beer, sun and golf.” He nods.

“Well, it’s not my ideal summer.” You sigh watching Toppers ball fly across the green.

“So what’s your ideal summer?” Kelce asks as he lines up his ball.

Kelce was definitely your favourite out of Rafes two close friends. You liked Topper well enough, but there was something about him you weren’t too sure about. Kelce on the other hand was a lot more pleasant than you expected him to be, he was friends with Rafe after all. But he’d made you feel welcome the minute you got to the golf course, even trying to teach you how to play.

“Adventure.” You state with a nod of your head, “I’m in a new place, I want to look around. Find new cool things, not wander around a field.”

Kelce chuckles as he hits his ball off the tee, “I wouldn’t call it a field.”

“You want adventure?” Rafe questions pointing at you with his club as he walks up to take his shot, “I’ll give you adventure.”

They finish the last two holes and then Rafe is dragging you out of the club house and towards his truck. He drives back to his house, swapping his truck for the bike you had seen him cleaning last week.

“You want me to get on that?” You ask with a raised brow.

“You want adventure but you won’t get on a bike?” Rafe laughs holding his helmet out to you.

“Adventure won’t kill me.” You roll your eyes but sigh and accept the helmet.

The bike was not as bad as you expected it to be. Rafe drove somewhat sensibly, you expect it had everything to do with you being on the back. It wasn’t until you were out on a dirt path that he started pulling the bike up to ride solely on the rear wheel and you found yourself clinging onto the boy for dear life.

“Rafe!” You scream, fists clutching at the front of his blue polo shirt, “Stop!” You squeeze your eyes shut as the boy just laughs.

Finally he stops the bike and you jump off, ripping the helmet off your head and throwing it at the laughing boy, “Are you actively trying to kill me?”

“Yeah, I bring all the girls out here to kill and bury them.” He chuckles and puts the stand down on the bike before climbing off.

“Right, I don’t doubt you do.” You turn around, arms crossed over your chest, “Where are we?”

You walk towards what seems to be the edge of a cliff, looking down you can see the waves crashing angrily against the rocks below.

“This is the best spot to come when you want to be alone,” Rafe appears behind you, you can tell what he really means is this is where he comes when he wants to be alone, “No one comes up here and there’s no phone signal.”

“The perfect place to hide a body.” You smirk over at him.

“Exactly, or the perfect place to learn to ride.” He grabs your hips and turns you back towards the bike, pushing you towards it.

“Wait, what?” You ask looking back at him over your shoulder, “Here? What if I fall off the edge?”

“Don’t drive towards the edge.” Rafe laughs as though it’s obvious and you suppose it is, “C’mon, sit.” Rafe pats the seat of the bike.

You debate with yourself whether you should get on the bike or not, you’d never even learnt to drive a car let alone a bike, so you knew you probably shouldn’t. But for some reason although you barely knew Rafe you trusted him. So you climb onto the bike, gladly accepting the helmet he offered to you again and pushing it down onto your head.

Rafe shows you the ignition and the controls you need to move it and to brake. You start off slow, conscious about falling off and breaking your neck. Rafe followed behind you like a parent teaching their child to ride a tricycle for the first time. Slowly you began to build speed, but nowhere near as fast as Rafe was driving and you definitely were not going to be pulling any wheelies. Rafe stands to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you ride up and down the small path.

You stopped the bike next to the boy, pulling the helmet from your head with a large grin plastered across your face.

“That was amazing!” You comment, letting Rafe put the stand down so you can climb off, “I’m not saying I’d want to ride one all over the place, but up here where no one else is was really fun.”

“And you didn’t fall off the edge!” Rafe comments in a congratulatory tone causing you to laugh.

You sit down beside Rafe on one of the large rocks near the cliff edge, you hadn’t realised how long you had been out with the boy but the sky was beginning to turn orange as the sun set for the night. The view was breathtaking and you hadn’t noticed it while you had been riding.

“I can see why you like it up here.” You murmur, eyes fixed on the point where the sky meets the ocean, the orange of the sky reflecting off the sparkling waters.

“My father taught me how to ride up here.” Rafe admits, Sarah had told you all about Rafe and Wards relationship and in all honesty you felt sorry for him. You couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to strive to meet perfection for someone who doesn’t give you a second glance. Although it doesn’t excuse the things Rafe does, it at least gives you some understanding as to why he does them. He’s crying out for the attention he craves and for some unknown reason you want to give it to him.

You don’t reply. Instead you reach out and rest your hand on top of his letting the silence speak for you.

----

“Are you coming with me today or are you hanging out with Rafe again?” Sarah teases you, you were worried that she was going to be upset with you but the girl seemed more amused than anything.

She was already home when you got back past dark with Rafe and she had grilled you for the details of your day. She’d informed you that Rafe wouldn’t be like that with just anyone and that he must have a crush on you. But you’d just laughed her off, telling her he’s not the person she thinks he is. You knew siblings usually had some kind of rivalry, and seeing how much nicer Ward was to Sarah than Rafe you weren’t really surprised he acted hostile towards his younger sister.

“I don’t know, I don’t know if Rafe even wants to hang out with me again.” You shrug following your friend into the living room.

“Well you’re more than welcome to come with me, but Rafe’s usually out by now and he’s still lingering around.” She nods towards the back doors where you can see Rafe through the glass.

He’s sitting on one of the garden chairs, leg bouncing as he taps against the arm of the chair. Sarah gives you a little push towards the doors and you soon find yourself walking through them, face lighting up as Rafe notices you and smiles.

“Hey.” He stops tapping and sits up straighter.

“Hey.” You reply, you stand in front of him semi awkwardly, what if he hadn’t been waiting for you and had in fact just been enjoying sitting in his backyard in the morning sun.

“Do you have plans today?” He asks, you think he sounds a bit hopeful.

“I’m not sure...Sarah said I can go with her, but she seems more adamant I should hang out with you.” You both turn to see Sarah through the window trying her best to look like she’s not watching the interaction, “Maybe she doesn’t like me.”

Rafe chuckles, “Or maybe she just wants me to hang out with someone other than my bone head friends,” He chews on his lower lip, “I know somewhere we can go, if you want.”

That somewhere turned out to be a shaded woody area with a stream running through it. A stark contrast to the beach you had been to multiple times in the last week you’d been here. But you liked it, the shade was a welcome break from the sun and the sound of the water gently flowing over the rocks was calming.

Rafe stops walking beside a large tree, pointing with a smile towards a badly carved ‘R’ in the bark, “I think I was about eight when I did that.”

You smile and trace the letter with your finger. You weren’t sure if it was a conscious decision by Rafe to bring you to places that meant something to him, but you were glad that he was. It meant more than just taking you to random touristy destinations and it felt like you could peek a little more inside of him with each trip.

Rafe tugs on a piece of rope hanging from one of the branches, it was frayed at the end and looked like it had seen much better days. But after Rafe had tugged on it a couple of times and deemed it safe he offered it over to you. You laugh and accept the rope, giving it a tug of your own as you look up to where it was tied around the tree.

“It’s safe, tyed it myself.” Rafe comments as he watches you.

“When you were eight?” You shake your head when Rafe nods, “If I fall in you better run.”

You prepare yourself for a wet landing but miraculously the rope doesn’t break and you make it to the other side of the river in one piece and completely dry. You throw the rope back over to Rafe and he soon joins you on the other side.

“What if we come back and the rope’s snapped?” You ask watching the rope slowly swinging back and forth over the water.

Rafe watches too for a moment before tugging your arm to follow him, “You get wet.” he states.

You let Rafe guide you through the trees, the river never far from your left side as you make your way deeper into the woods. You find yourself grabbing onto Rafe’s arm as you climb over roots and fallen branches, sure no one ever came down here.

“Is this your second favourite place to hide bodies?” You ask with a laugh as you duck under a low branch.

Rafe hums, “No bodies here,” He replies, “Actually, I haven’t been here in years. I kind of forgot about this place until I was thinking about places to take you.”

“You were thinking about places to take me.” You ask, a small fluttering feeling creeping into your stomach.

“I promised you adventures, didn’t I?” He looks back at you with a smile.

You nod quickly, “You did,” You agree, “I look forward to more, then.”

Rafe led you the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of you enjoying the calming sounds of nature instead of forcing a conversation about something meaningless. You stop beside Rafe when the river pools out into a small lake beside a cliff, water cascading down the side of the rocks.

“Wow,” you gaze across the water, “How have you found the nicest places?” You step in front of him, walking along the edge of the water towards the waterfall.

Rafe follows behind, “I spent a lot of time exploring when I was younger,” He tells you, “I could come here and be anything I wanted.”

“It’s amazing.” You state, “I wish we had places like this back home. We just have busy streets and over crowded parks.”

“C’mon.” Rafe hurries in front of you, grabbing your hand on his way past.

He helps you climb over the rocks towards the waterfall, both of you getting completely soaked as you pass under it, but even in the shade the weather was hot and sticky so you really didn’t mind. Behind the falling water you find a small cave, you weren’t sure if it was big enough to even be called a cave, but you had no other name for it. The stone inside the cave was dry and you let Rafe pull you to sit inside it.

“I used to come here when I was in trouble. No one could ever find me.” He laughs.

“I guess no one would think to look for you behind a waterfall.” You grin, “I wouldn’t. How did you even find this place back here?”

“Like I said, I used to do a lot of exploring.” Rafe shrugs as he moves forward and sticks his hand into the water. “I like listening to the water.”

“You can close your eyes and imagine you’re anywhere,” You comment, letting your eyes fall shut but you soon open them again, “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, though.”

Rafe looks at you over his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips and you couldn’t help but think this one was real. Unlike that first day, this one reached his eyes setting his whole face alight with pure happiness. You like it. You like his smile and you like being the one to put it there.

You spend most of the morning sitting behind the waterfall talking about anything you can think of. Most of it mundane small talk but some of it deeper. You tell Rafe about a few things from your childhood, seeing as he’d shared a couple of his own. Then as it drew closer to lunch time he took you to a diner on the edge of town which mostly sold various breakfast foods.

You knew you had asked Rafe for adventure, but you decided you would be happy doing absolutely nothing as long as he was in your company. You liked his company and you hoped he liked yours enough to spend most of the summer with you.

----

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” You ask letting Rafe lead you towards a large stone building.

“Do you not have surprises where you come from?” Rafe teases, “I’ll explain, if I tell you, it kind of ruins the whole thing.”

You roll your eyes and slap his arm playfully. Rafe had told you to be ready by midday and to wear something nice. So you’d picked out a red summer dress and actually bothered with your hair and make up for the first time during your trip. As you got closer to the building you saw a sign which read ‘Wine Tasting.” and quickly tugged on Rafe’s arm.

“We aren’t even old enough to drink!” You hissed but he just shushed you and entered the building.

The waiter didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the fact that you were both clearly only late teens and not over 21. He greeted Rafe by name and led you both over to a table on the balcony. The table was already set up with multiple glasses of various wines and you raised your brows at Rafe.

“How do they just let you in?” You ask in a hushed voice.

Rafe simply shrugs, “Perks of being a Cameron.” He grins and hands a glass over to you, “I’ve tried them all before.”

“I can’t try all of these, I’ll be drunk before one!” You laugh but take the glass from him.

“You’re not actually supposed to drink them.” He comments.

“You think I’m not going to drink them?” You raise one brow at him and bring the wine to your lips. It was a rose and it tasted much sweeter than you usually liked but still you swallowed it, “If there’s wine, I’m drinking it.”

Rafe laughs, shaking his head in amusement as you finished the rest of the glass. You both tried every wine on the table, Rafe getting rid of the wine like you’re supposed to, you downing each glass and getting steadily more drunk as the afternoon drew closer.

“So, which was your favourite?” He asks.

You purse your lips, mulling over the question in your seriously tipsy state, “The dry white.” You finally decide.

Rafe nods at your choice and excuses himself from the table. While he’s gone you look out over the balcony, the view mostly fields and trees but it was picturesque in the summer sun. You hum contentedly to yourself before snapping your head back round at the sound of a bang on the table. Rafe stood with four bottles of wine in his hands, motioning for you to follow him.

“You brought four?” You laugh following him down the stairs and back towards the car.

“Yeah, now we get to drink the best one and get blissfully wine drunk.” You can’t help but think that is the best idea yet.

You soon find yourself sitting in Rafe’s backyard as Rafe had put it ‘blissfully wine drunk’. Two bottles had already been finished, Rafe currently working on the third while you had had more than enough for now. You were in that state of drunk where you still knew what was going on, but you were much more confident and comfortable. Your vision was slightly blurred around the edges and if you stood up you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk in a straight line. You knew you shouldn’t be this drunk this early in the day, but Rafe was making you laugh and you felt like your body was full of butterflies so you didn’t care what anyone else would think.

Soon after it had started to get dark and Rafe had attempted to make you grilled cheese - you’d ended up eating it burnt and you hadn’t tasted anything quite so bad in a while, but you had both laughed about it - you found yourself stumbling down towards the beach. Hand tight in Rafe’s half because you wanted to hold his hand, half to stop you face planting the floor.

Rafe had brought the last bottle of wine with you, he stood it in the sand between you as you flopped down into one of the dunes. Dusk was settling across the sky casting a dull but calming hue across the beach.

“I didn’t plan on getting this drunk,” Rafe comments as he pulls the bottle from the sand and takes a sip, “But I’m not complaining.” He offers the bottle to you and you take it, gulping down the liquid before placing it back in its hole.

“You’re a bad influence. I’ve never been drunk at lunch time before!” You point an accusatory finger in his direction.

“Well you’ve been missing out all this time.” Rafe swings his arm around your shoulders and you let him pull you against his side.

His touch is warm in the cool evening sea breeze and you lean into him. Rafe has the power to make you feel completely comfortable around him all the time. You’d never met someone like him before and were quite sure you never would again. He was a one off. One of a kind. Special. So when he kissed against your hair line you smiled and held him closer. He was too good to let go off, physically and mentally.

You tilt your head up, eyes lingering on his willing him to read your mind. And he does. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It was short. A peck more than anything. It was nothing and everything all at the same time. You laid your head back against his shoulder, missing the smile spreading across Rafe’s lips.

----

You sit outside with Sarah, nursing your hangover with a strong coffee as the girl laughs at your self induced misfortune. You weren’t going to tell her about the kiss you and Rafe had shared the night before, honestly you weren’t sure yourself if it meant something to him or if it was just a result of too much to drink. But she’d asked, and you’d admitted it, and she hadn’t been annoyed like you'd expected. Actually, she seemed pretty excited, gushing over the details and letting out a little squeal after you finished.

“It would be so good if you dated my brother! He needs someone good in his life, and you actually look so cute together!” She taps her feet excitedly against the ground, “So what’s on the lovebirds agenda today?”

You open your mouth to tell her that actually you have no idea what you’re doing today. But you don’t get a chance to speak. Instead the table shakes violently as something heavy lands on it and then a second later both of you are covered in water.

Sarah screams and in your hungover state it takes you a second to process what had happened. You look up, glaring at a smiling Rafe hanging out of his bedroom window, it was more than a little unfair that the boy didn’t look the slightest bit affected by yesterday's drinking session.

“I’d move if I were you.” He calls down before another balloon full of water lands on the floor beside you.

Both you and Sarah bolt up from the table and out onto the grass, both dripping wet with angry scowls.

“Rafe you asshole!” Sarah calls up as she wrings her hair out, “I’m not staying here for this, it’s you he’s trying to get!” She points a finger at you before quickly running into the house.

You’re glad when you look up and Rafe is no longer at his window, but that relief quickly dies when he appears at the back door, a balloon already on its way over to you. You scream as it hits your arm, the cold water covering your body.

“This isn't funny Rafe!” You shout, running as another rubber bomb comes towards you, “I’m hungover and now look at me!”

But Rafe doesn’t care. You spend the next ten minutes running away from his assault, finally being able to defend yourself when you grab the hose and point it at him. By the time Rafe is out of balloons and he’s managed to wrestle the hose out of your hands both of you are dripping wet. Rafe’s hair is plastered against his forehead and covering his eyes, yours is hanging down like rats tails. You wring out your shirt, glaring still at the boy but it’s more playful now.

“And what exactly brought that on?” You huff letting go of your shirt.

Rafe shrugs, moving towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I like hearing your laugh.” He answers pulling you closer.

He leans down, his lips finding yours in a wet kiss thanks to your fight. This kiss is longer, his lips pressed against yours firmer than the previous night. Now you knew that it wasn’t some drunken act and that Rafe had in fact wanted to kiss you, and this made you smile against his lips. This time, now you were sober, you could appreciate the moment more. Kissing Rafe was like something you had never felt before. It sounds cheesy to say you felt a spark, and you weren’t sure that’s how you would explain it. But you felt light, like the weight of everything was taken off you at least for a moment. And your body felt warm, like your blood had turned to honey and you felt cosy and safe.

You rest your head against his chest when you finally pull away, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet shirt felt against your cheek. And you stood there holding each other, wet in the morning sun for what felt like forever.

----

The next week is full of Rafe surprising you with something new each day. Sometimes it’s small like a day of baking - which you both suck at - and sometimes it’s big like a shopping trip to town where he treats you to new shoes and dinner. It’s also filled with a lot more kissing and a lot more cuddling. One day, when the weather is more miserable than usual summer days, you make a blanket fort in his bedroom and spend the day cuddling, eating marshmallows and watching cheesy movies on netflix. That was one of your favourite days. To block the world out and spend the day wrapped up in Rafe’s arms was how you wanted to spend every day for the rest of your lives. But that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy the other days too. The days when Rafe would plan someone special or take you to a meaningful place from his childhood. You knew that no matter what you were doing, if it was with Rafe, you’d enjoy it.

You sat on the deck of the boat, watching as Rafe dropped the anchor setting the boat in its place. The yacht was impressive, but Rafe could have taken you out on a rubber dingy and you still would have loved every second of it.

“Have you ever been jetskiing?” Rafe asks.

“You know I don’t really like the water, Rafe.” You sigh, standing up as he walks over to you and resting your hands against his chest.

“I know, but I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s like riding the bike but bumpier.” Rafe presses a kiss against your forehead, “Do you want to try it? We can come straight back on the boat if you don’t like it.”

You sigh, looking up at his hopeful eyes and you find you just can’t say no to the boy. So you smile and nod your head once, “But if I call in you have to come save me!”

Rafe promises to follow right behind you and helps you get geared up in a life jacket, which made you feel a little better about the coming experience.

It took a couple of minutes for you to get used to sitting on the jet ski before you even moved anywhere and Rafe sat patiently beside you. He held your hand, brushing his thumb across your skin until you announced you were ready to try.

Rafe was right when he said it was like riding a bike and you were glad he had shown you that first. You didn’t dare go very fast, but you still had fun riding around in slow circles. You soon felt comfortable on your own and Rafe sped off, showing off and throwing himself at waves.

He was soaking wet when he appeared back beside you, a grin on his face as he pulled up next to you.

“Show off.” You comment with a giggle.

“Had to give you a show baby.” He leans over and presses his lips against yours.

——

That evening Rafe bundled you into his truck with a duffle back and an armful of blankets. No matter how many times you asked where you were going he refused to tell you. So I’m the end you shut up and turned to stare out of the window watching the town fly by and turn into fields and trees.

Finally he pulls up in the middle of nowhere, grabbing the things from the back and jumping out of the car. You follow after him, noticing a tent set up in a clearing, a faint orange glow coming from inside of it.

“We’re camping?” You grin hurrying ahead of him to check it out.

Inside the tent was fairy lights strung along the room, some blankets and cushions already laid across the floor. It looked cozy and cute, you turned to him, hugging his side tightly.

“This is so cute! When did you set this up? I was with you all day.” You raise a brow at him before helping him set the extra blankets down.

“I got Topper to help out,” he shrugs before pulling you down into the tent beside him.

“I love it.” You grin and lean over pressing a kiss to his lips.

That night you lay stargazing until your eyes hurt and then you climbed inside the tent and curled up in Rafes arms. You talked, you laughed and you kissed. You slept with Rafe for the first time that night, it was slow and sweet and something you will remember forever.

You had never planned on falling so hard for the boy. Thinking this would be a summer fling to tell your friends about and that was it. But now you knew it was more than that. A lot more. You had never felt for anyone the way you felt for Rafe. When he was around you your world life up and your cheeks always hurt from smiling so much.

You couldn’t imagine not getting to see him and touch him every day but time moved too quickly and the end of summer reared its head.

The last night on the island you spent at the annual carnival. You had gone with Sarah, spending half of the night with her and her friends before disappearing off with Rafe.

You went on the Ferris wheel, ate sweets and hot dogs and got lost in the fun house. By the end of the night you felt sick from all the food and insanely happy.

“I’ll come visit you in a month or two, okay?” Rafe promises as you stand on the docks, tears slipping down your face.

You nod your head, letting him kiss you one last time, “Okay. I’ll call you every day.” You offer a smile, rubbing your wet cheeks before disappearing onto the ferry.

You sat on the deck, waving to Rafe until you could no longer see him through the crowds and you were sure he was gone.

You kept your promise of calling him everyday, chatting endlessly about anything you could think of. You loved talking to Rafe because nothing ever felt forced. He made you laugh and smile and e butterflies never went away when you thought about him.

It was the end of the month and you excitedly ripped into the letter addressed to you, expecting to see Sarah’s hand gushing to you about John B and asking you all sorts about your and Rafe. But it wasn’t Sarah’s neat hand you saw but something a little scruffier.

Y/N

      I don’t think I’ve ever written a letter before but I remember you saying how you liked them so I thought I would try.

I wanted to say thank you for giving me the best summer, I don’t remember the last time I felt so alive. Being around you is a feeling I want to keep forever, I can never get enough of talking to you, kissing you and hugging you. You make my world a better place and give me a reason to keep trying to be a better person. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me, you’ve helped me more than you can imagine.

I look forward to seeing you next month, I’m counting down the days until I can hold you again.

P.S. Sarah says hi, and that she knew this would happen all along.

                                            Love, Rafe x

[yongtxt]

turn back time [taeyong]

word count: 6.2k words

characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung

genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]

warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia.  it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.

author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited

Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.

His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.

You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”

Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”

A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”

“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”

“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”

“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.

Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.

Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.

He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.

“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.

He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.

“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.

You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.

“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”

“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”

“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”

Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”

You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”

“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”

You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.

The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.

Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.

He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.

A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.

You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.

“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.

“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.

Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.

He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.

Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.

This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.

Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.

The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.

With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.

Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.

He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”

Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”

“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”

Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.

The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.

You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.

“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”

You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.

Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.

You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”

“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”

Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”

Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.

“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”

Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”

You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”

A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.

You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.

In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.

He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”

Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.

You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”

He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.

He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.

Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.

His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.

Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.

Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.

You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.

You mumbled, “It’s all done.”

“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”

Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.

He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.

You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.

“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.

Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”

“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.

“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”

He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.

You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.

Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.

He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”

“Taeyong—”

“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”

There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.

“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.

You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”

The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.

It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.

“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.

“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.

He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”

“You love him, right?”

“I do. So much.”

“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”

You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”

“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.

“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.

He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”

“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.

You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.

Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.

You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.

A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.

You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.

Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.

He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.

Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.

He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.

He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.

He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.

You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.

He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”

You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”

You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.

Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.