#it brings me joy to see references to cheese

[sigma-tamale]

Favorite Moby Dick Quote:

“Towards the stern of the boat it is spirally coiled away in the tub, not like the worm-pipe of a still though, but so as to form one round, cheese-shaped mass of densely bedded 'sheaves,' or layers of concentric spiralizations, without any hollow but the 'heart,' or minute vertical tube formed at the axis of the cheese.”

[screeching-bunny]

hello my pretty ligma <3

may I please order my Yandere! Jock? I was thinking if this scenario about their anniversary with reader basically picks him up from his place, brings a bouquet of tulips, and proceeds to take him to a candle light dinner. with them going to star gazing after! I really want to see his pov while all these happens. 🤭

please there is no pressure if you will not able to get it!!

thank you, pretty girl <3

Yandere! Jock Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: Okay, first off 🗣️ LIGMA BALLS!!! Moving on now.

Yandere! Jock has been sulking for the entire day. Lately you’ve been so distant from him and he couldn’t figure out why. It seemed like you’ve been avoiding him and it didn’t help that today was your one year anniversary. When he tried to approach you to give you your gift, you would make an excuse to leave before he even got to hand them to you. Everytime he texted you to meet up with him, you would respond with a “I’m busy. I’ll talk to you later.” Just what was so important that you could ignore him and forget your guy’s anniversary!!!

He honestly was praying that it wasn’t a guy taking up your attention. He didn’t want to eliminate someone so soon again. After getting a text from you stating that he shouldn’t wait up for you because you’ll be going home before the school day is fully over. He was honestly so annoyed right now and decided to just go to practice to cool off before seeing you. His poor teammates were too scared to get near him. He was honestly so aggressive that one step near him could cause them to possibly go to the ER. They could only do nothing but pray that you would talk to him and cause his anger to disperse. One day without you by his side causes hell for them.

After that, he decided to just go straight to your house after school. Quickly going over there, he knocks frantically on your door only for it to be your dad. Who came over for a visit. When he asked about you, your father simply stated that you weren’t home and said that you hadn’t been back for awhile now. Your dad just figured that you were with Yandere! Jock this entire time.

Yandere! Jock seriously wanted to cry. Why would you lie to him and why have you been so secretive lately?! He honestly regrets not putting a tracker on your phone, he just wants to know where you are!! Feeling hopeless he decides to just go home and pretend to be dead on his bed. His thoughts are just constantly filled with you and each image of your face in his head makes his heart squeeze. This was honestly the worst anniversary ever. He didn’t even care if the two of you didn’t go anywhere, just being with you filled him up with so much joy. He really does miss you right now.

Just then, he got a text message from you which said “Look out your window.” With that, he rushed over and peered over only to see nothing? Quickly, another message was delivered, “The other one dummy.” Looking outside in his lawn he got to behold the sight of you. Excited, he quickly made his way out of his room and out towards you. Where he was then presented a bouquet of tulips. “You didn’t think I forgot our anniversary did you?” He felt so dumb and giddy right now, how could he have doubted you in the first place? With a kiss on the lip, the two of you hopped into your car and drove to your house.

Yandere! Jock was a little confused as to why you took him here in the first place. I mean couldn’t you just have just texted him to come over? He’d be there in a heartbeat. He didn’t mind this of course, he’d definitely enjoy a Netflix and chill situation. Entering your home and into your garden he was then greeted by the sight of a candle light dinner. He was just so touched and couldn’t believe what was happening! “I tried my best to cook us a meal. It might not taste the best but I hope you like it.” Are you kidding me! Even if you served him a block of cheese, he would treat it as if it were the most scrumptious meal he’d ever tasted.

Yandere! Jock gobbled and ate that shit up. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he’d been starving for the past couple of days. The entire time he had a look of contentment and happiness on his face. He full heartedly and honestly believed that this was the best meal he had ever had in his entire life. “Don’t the stars look lovely tonight.” you ask as you look up at the sky. That night he couldn’t help but not take his eyes off of you. Although there were many bright stars that night, he believed that the brightest one shined right next to him. Without even looking at the sky he said lovingly,

“Yeah. Just look at them glow.”

Asks 2

[lefresne]

the wonderful world of medieval language textbooks

While I was writing up some stuff for a class on bilingualism I came across the 14th century language textbook Manière de Langage. This was a book destined to the English travelling abroad in France. Not unlike most textbooks today, it uses didactic dialogues to teach its students French and the Manière therefore doubles as a phrase book that can be brought along on travels!

It includes useful info such as:

Greetings, asking for the time and for directions

Sir, may God grant you a good day…good health…joy / Lady, may God grant you a good evening / Sir, you are welcome. / God keep you, good friend. /God keep you from evil, my friend. / What is the time? / Between six and seven. / How far is it to Paris? / Twelve leagues. / Is the road safe? / God help me, it depends./ Is the road easy? / God help me sir, it is difficult. / Tell me, how many leagues to my destination? / About twelve / Is it safe from robbers?/ God help me, sir, no. Some people were robbed recently / Really? / Truthfully, sir

how to find accommodation and ask for a drink

God keep this fair company ! Where can I find good lodgings? / Sir, just in front, with the sign / God be with us / Sir or lady, hospitality in the name of charity and the Holy Cross / Sir, come in, by God / Lady, do you have good wine? / Truthfully, sir, a lot / What wine? / Red and White / And how much is it? / I have some at sixteen, twelve, ten, eight, six, four, and two

How to order beer and settle a bill

Lady, do you sell beer? / Sir, the gallon for three coins / Lady, get us some beer! Lady, fill our cups! And bring cups and goblets for the wine. Lady, bring us meat (= food) / Yes, sirs, enjoy your meal / Lady, send for some cheese. Lady, remove the table cloth. Lady, come and count (= settle the bill). Lady, how much was it? / Sir, it is x amount / Lady, take what you need. Is everything paid? Have the beds been made? / Sir, yes / Then let's go to bed!

How to buy items at the market

How much is this? How can I have this? / Do you want it? / Yes, sir, just say the word / Sir, you will give me x for it / Sir, no, that is too expensive!

some useful pick up lines and how to ask a woman out for dinner

(of all the flowers in the dew / It seems to me that you are the most beautiful / like a rose amongst lilly flowers) okay....

a bunch of insults (includes: kiss my ass )

under the useful rubric: Contemporary politics, a reference to the deposition of Richard II

Lady, I am glad to see you / Sir, truthfully, I am happy to see you. What news, sir? / Truthfully, lady, some most extraordinary news / And what are they, please? / God help me, lady, I have heard that the king of England was deposed / What! are you joking? / No, it is the truth / So the English don't have a king? / They do, the one that was Duke of Lancaster, the very nephew of the king that was deposed! / Really? / Really! / And what will happen to the queen? / By God, I don't know, I wasn't there / And the king of England, where was he crowned? / In Westminster

[yourbestpalpercy]

Iris’s opinions on the other cogs

Bored and was in class when I wrote this. Buckle up, I’m gonna try my best. As I don’t know a lot about the Cogs in ToonTown, I’ll most likely be going off of tiny headcanons and appearances. Warning, I’m mostly projecting.

Skelecogs: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” Iris is terrified of them. Absolutely horrified by them. It’s not even funny how terrified of them she is. She’s just– she can’t look at them at all!

Goons: “...Awww, pubby thingy…” Iris learned the term ‘Pubby’ online and only knows it’s used to describe something cute.

Cold Caller: “What’re you? …A blueberry? Why are you such a deep blue…??” Iris doesn’t like them that much.

Telemarketer: “...Creepy…” Iris shies away every time she sees them.

Name Dropper: “WHY ARE YOUR LIPS SO DAMN BIG!?” Iris laughs every time she sees Name Dropper, she cannot contain her laughter.

Glad Handler: “...Stop smiling at me like that…” Iris also finds them to be creepy. She doesn’t like how they smile.

Mover & Shaker: “Deceitful guy…up to mischief that one is…” Iris mostly doesn’t trust them. It’s a light hearted distrust though.

Two-Face: Two Face scared Iris too. She hides every time they’re around. She’s not terrified of them though.

The Mingler: “...Are you Name Dropper’s cousin?” Iris thinks Mingler looks dumb too.

Mr. Hollywood: “...Stop smiling at me like that also,” Iris doesn’t trust Mr. Hollywood.

Vice President: “....where are your legs…??” Iris thinks Vice President looks silly and is more comfortable around him because of that.

Short Change: “...Did-...did you just get less blue??” Iris cannot tell the difference between Cold Caller and Short Change. She thinks they’re the exact same person.

Penny Pincher: “Oh lawd, it’s the blue man’s red cousin,” Iris is constantly sassy to Penny Pincher.

Tightwad: “You look about two seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum…” She puts in ear plugs.

Bean Counter: “Also a mischievous critter…” No one can tell if these are endearing terms.

Number Cruncher: “HE CONSUME!! MONCH!!” Iris teases them a lot.

Money Bags: “...where is your face….?? do i want to know???”

Loan Shark: “SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHA-!” Iris loves sharks. She thinks Loan Shark is rude despite her love of sharks.

Robber Baron: “Is that a mustache or a nose…?” Iris can tell, she’s just mean to a good chunk of the Cogs. …It’s technically in her code.

CFO: “...Stupid looking little sh*t.” Iris says this with a big dopey smile on her face. It brings her genuine joy to insult this one.

Bottom Feeder: Iris has no opinions on this one. Genuinely has nothing to say.

Bloodsucker: Iris will not stop with the vampire references. She WILL NOT shut up about them

Double Talker: “OH GOSH NOT ANOTHER.” Iris hides when she sees this one too.

Ambulance Chaser: “Nurse hat but…” Iris doesn’t understand this one.

Back Stabber: “...Can you stab people with that pointy *ss head??” Iris makes dart board jokes around this one.

Spin Doctor: Iris has assumed SD likes spinning and will never stop spinning one when she sees them. It becomes straight up sadistic after a bit honestly.

Legal Eagle: “EAGLE! CAW! CAW! CAW!!” Iris just loves animals, okay?

Big Wig: “...Eh, I’ve seen bigger.”

Chief Justice: “whyyy are so many of you stuck in big chairs???”

Flunky: “You have a silly name and a silly face. You are a silly boyo.” Iris likes Flunky. I also like Flunky.

Pencil Pusher: “You and Back Stabber should be friends^^.”

Yesman: “Why. What is with the big grins??” Iris broke down upon seeing this one. She’s terrified of their grins.

Micromanager: “BIG LIP. BIG LIP. BIG LIPS-.”

Downsizer: “...What kind of schemes are you up to…?” Untrustworthy.

Head Hunter: “You need a head? Maybe that’s why you’re hunting for them!” Mean Spirited teasing.

Corporate Raider: She has no opinions on them.

Big Cheese: “No way! It’s the guy from Roblox!” This is actually how I discovered ToonTown in a way. No, no one knows what Iris is talking about what she says ‘Roblox’

CEO: “...Chair bound f*ck #3 I see?”

Manager Bots

Factory Foreman + Mint Supervisor + Head Attorney + Club President: Same reaction as Skelecogs.

Derrek Man: She thinks they look cool and she also thinks that they have a plane somewhere nearby

Land Acquisition Architect: She really, really likes how they look. She hasn’t really gotten to know them though.

Derrek Hand: “Are you a drill…? Can I use you as such…??” Derrek Hand’s appearance confuses her.

Director of Land Development: Same opinion as L.A.A, she likes how they look^^

Public Relations Representative: Felt like these ones needed a personal Iris reaction.

“OH GOSH HOW DID THEY GET CREEPIER!?”

Director of Public Affairs: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!” Yeah, Iris is horrified by D.o.P.A.

Now onto the guys I actually like

Duck Shuffler: “Oh my gosh!! He’s so silly!” They frequently share :Ps between each other. She really likes Duck Shuffler and thinks he’s silly. “How can you see? I..I can’t tell!” “I can’t believe they don’t give you your own building. You’re much better than those weird CEOs or…whatever they are. The chair bound ones!”

Deep Diver: “...I’ve never seen the ocean before, is it pretty?” Iris constantly pesters Deep Diver about the ocean. Whether she knows about it or not. “I like your colors!” “What kinds of fish are there?” “Have you seen any purple ones?”

Gatekeeper: Personal headcanon, she plays DnD. Iris has played DnD with her before. She really likes Gatekeeper and wishes she wasn’t a Cog because she likes them so much. “Awww! I love your feathers!” “Does it ever get tiring wearing that armor?” “Are you the armor or just wearing it??”

Mouthpiece: I personally heard that she’s like a grandma. Iris adores Mouthpiece and despises H. Lesser for not letting Iris be around Mouthpiece more often. “D-Do you knit? I-I’m very sorry for forgetting…” “I heard from the others that you’re a great cook! I wish I could have a cookie…” “Sorry, Harold never lets us hang out! Says that elders like you don’t understand electronics…”

Firestarter: Iris likes Firestarter a lot! She likes the warmth he brings and thinks his shyness is kinda funny. She also constantly asks him about the snow. “Is it fluffy?” “How cold is it?” “Can I touch it without getting hurt?” “Can you bring some back for me to touch?” And so on.

Treekiller: “....I hate you…” Is often all Iris says.

Bellringer: “If I ring your bell, will it hurt you?” Meeting Bellringer is actually how H. Lesser found out that Iris could “slightly” use the wires in the building to do her bidding…when she started rapidly shaking Bellringer, sadistically. (I’m saying it now, I like Bellringer.)

Featherbedder: “OWL. HOOO. HOOOOOO. Hoo!” Iris really, really loves animals.

Prethinker: As Iris has access to the internet, they often talk about obscure facts. “..Literally no one talks about Cookie Cutter Sharks. I heard the term a few days ago and searched it up. Their bites are horrifying and NO one cares!” “Ever heard of a Sea Butterfly? They’re just as beautiful as the above world butterflies!” “So…didja know that butterflies sometimes are attracted to dead bodies and some drink the tears of crocodiles? Sadistic little things…” “So Dolphins right!?” Harold unplugged her so no one could hear what Iris had previously told him about Dolphins. Coward.

Rainmaker/Misty: You have no idea how much Iris absolutely adores Misty. Another headcanon, she draws sometimes. Iris would adore to draw with her but H. Lesser doesn’t often invite Misty over. Iris would jump into electronics closer to Misty but there’s not a lot down at the docks…also she can’t leave the building. “I really wish we could draw more..I love drawing with you!” “You would never drag me down!” “You’re the coolest person ever!” “I love thunderstorms, did I ever tell you that?” “The lightning you make is so much prettier than natural lightning!” “I love the sound of thunder and rain on the windows!” Another Cog she wishes wasn’t a Cog because she’s programmed to have a disliking for Cogs (to make her seem more trustworthy towards the Toons).

Major Player: Iris likes to dance with him. He’s fun! She really likes him! She also asks what kinds of music he likes.

Witchhunter: Man I didn’t even know this was a character until now. I got nothing… Iris likes witches and doesn’t understand the point in having a witchhunter if witches don’t exist. Supposedly.

Multislacker: “BEAN!” No one knows where Iris learned the term ‘Bean’ but no one really minds. Iris would adore to hug Multislacker and he’s actually one of the reasons Iris craves a body so badly. To give hugs! Iris also likes his Goon pet.

Plutocraft: “No way, just like minecraft,” No one knows what Iris is talking about. No one. She likes how Plutocraft looks but admittedly, she constantly bullies him because of his height.

Iris doesn’t like the Satellite Investors. “THEY ALL LOOK LIKE THE SKELECOGS!! GET THEM AWAY!!”

Chip Revvington: Iris finds him boring. She also thinks he looks ridiculous when he’s staring directly at her. She also also teases him because his face is a chainsaw. Chip just…barely looks at her, turning a blind eye and ignoring her insults.

Pacesetter: Iris likes Pacesetter as much as H. Lesser doesn’t. Pacesetter often compliments how Iris looks, making sure that H. Lesser doesn’t take the compliments for himself. They both adore being petty against H. Lesser together.

Litigator: “ALLIG-...you’re mean actually…” Iris doesn’t like Liligator, seeing him as an angry, ticking time bomb. Liligator makes Iris anxious. “D-Don’t sue me please!” “I-I haven’t broken any laws, I-I swear!” “I can’t even go to court, I can’t leave the screen!!”

Stenographer: She scares Iris almost just as much as the Skelecogs do.

Case Manager: Iris likes his design much more than his personality.

Scapegoat: “GOAT! GOAT! GOAT! BAAAH! BAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” I think I’ve stressed it enough how much Iris loves animals.

AND THAT’S EVERYONE!!

Everyone I’m mentally ready to write about^^!

And no I’m not doing the same thing for joykill. Iris knew or at least met all of these Cogs. Joykill wasn’t around long enough to meet anyone

[cupofteaguk]

on the road (to you)

summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush. 

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst 

warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending. 

word count: 27k 

a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” +  a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops! 

update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3 

.

When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings. 

You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now. 

Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand. 

All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together. 

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox. 

It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too. 

You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares. 

The post in your hand reads: 

WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW. 

There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event. 

You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own. 

You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married. 

Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them. 

But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks. 

You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.” 

Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…” 

You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?” 

“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.” 

You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…” 

Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?” 

“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.” 

Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…” 

You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!” 

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?” 

You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight. 

Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.” 

“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?” 

Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.” 

You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?” 

“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.” 

You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!” 

“Then go!” 

“But I don’t have a plus one!” 

Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.” 

You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to. 

“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table. 

Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.” 

She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

.

For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons. 

As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up. 

However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem. 

You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there. 

You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers. 

“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem. 

You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website. 

Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat. 

You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!” 

If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature. 

Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless. 

“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?” 

You shake your head. “What do you mean?” 

“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.” 

You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?” 

You blink. “What?” 

He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.” 

“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…” 

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?” 

You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”

“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?” 

You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.” 

He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.” 

“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.” 

Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.” 

You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?” 

He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!” 

Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling. 

Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.” 

You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer. 

Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.” 

You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.” 

He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.” 

He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?” 

Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.” 

You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.” 

Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?” 

“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time. 

“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.” 

The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?” 

“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I’m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.” 

You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this. 

It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.” 

If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them. 

.

True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless. 

“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks. 

Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.” 

You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.” 

He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?” 

“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.” 

“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back. 

The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway. 

“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy. 

With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops. 

“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.” 

The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant. 

As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this. 

“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being. 

All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends. 

He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?” 

You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!” 

“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant. 

Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.” 

Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.” 

“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin. 

“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!” 

A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!” 

Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you. 

You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!” 

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him? 

You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you. 

Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now. 

Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term. 

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it. 

“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?” 

“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides. 

Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets. 

“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.” 

“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes? 

“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!” 

Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that. 

So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why. 

“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people. 

“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!” 

Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?” 

“What was what?” 

“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.” 

Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!” 

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin. 

You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!” 

He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.” 

Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter. 

“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.” 

“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.” 

Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.” 

“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?” 

His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.” 

You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.” 

You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting. 

Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic. 

“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.” 

“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.” 

Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?” 

You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?” 

“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?” 

“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?” 

Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?” 

You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.” 

You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.” 

“Sure.” 

“You know how expensive flights can be.” 

“Of course.” 

You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?” 

He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.” 

Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.” 

“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.” 

Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip?  “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…” 

The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request. 

The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant. 

You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant. 

The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you. 

You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?” 

He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.” 

“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.” 

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.” 

Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.” 

He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.” 

You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly. 

He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.” 

“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!” 

“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down. 

. 

Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows. 

There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.” 

You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!” 

“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!” 

You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.” 

Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?” 

You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.” 

“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly. 

You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.” 

Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?” 

“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again. 

“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?” 

“Yes!” 

“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?” 

You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?” 

Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?” 

“There’s more,” You groan out. 

“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!” 

You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.” 

“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?” 

“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.” 

Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?” 

“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

Karly frowns. 

You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?” 

“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?” 

Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?” 

“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.” 

Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.” 

“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.” 

Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.” 

You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!” 

Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!” 

“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her. 

Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!” 

Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!” 

Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.” 

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.” 

Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.” 

You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference. 

So you sigh. 

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.” 

Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.” 

.

You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief. 

These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company. 

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :) 

You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second! 

You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?” 

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?” 

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.” 

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!” 

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.” 

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex. 

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours. 

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.” 

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.” 

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.” 

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.” 

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.” 

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.” 

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.” 

You gape at her. “Karly!” 

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks. 

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath. 

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?” 

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?” 

“What do you mean!” You snap back. 

“So, Y/N, ready to go?” 

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.” 

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.” 

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.” 

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut. 

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat. 

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for? 

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question. 

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.” 

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?” 

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!” 

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?” 

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.” 

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.” 

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you. 

You look up at him, wide eyes. 

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?” 

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!” 

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.” 

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.” 

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.” 

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?” 

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.” 

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?” 

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.” 

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.” 

Jungkook grins back. 

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural. 

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants. 

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?” 

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.” 

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” 

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?” 

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?” 

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!” 

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.” 

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?” 

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.” 

“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.” 

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.” 

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries. 

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin. 

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway. 

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.” 

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?” 

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?” 

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say. 

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you. 

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees. 

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background. 

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.” 

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you. 

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.” 

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!” 

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!” 

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?” 

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?” 

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.” 

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?” 

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this. 

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats. 

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.” 

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station. 

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.” 

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples. 

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.” 

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?” 

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset. 

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.” 

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that. 

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color. 

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?” 

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?” 

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.” 

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist. 

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!” 

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?” 

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.” 

He grins. “You are correct.” 

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier. 

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium. 

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed. 

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?” 

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.” 

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.” 

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker. 

You settle deeper into your seat. 

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?” 

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!” 

“Sure, sure, of course.” 

There’s a pause. 

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead. 

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.” 

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.” 

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.” 

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.” 

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently. 

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.” 

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…” 

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.” 

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.” 

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.” 

“And how do you feel now?” 

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.” 

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.” 

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t. 

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road. 

. 

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel. 

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket. 

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger. 

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds. 

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down. 

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower. 

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom. 

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for. 

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen. 

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you. 

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you. 

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.” 

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?” 

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.” 

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction. 

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.” 

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair. 

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?” 

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.” 

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.” 

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies. 

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you. 

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing. 

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly. 

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately. 

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?” 

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee. 

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head. 

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?” 

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!” 

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all. 

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead. 

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is. 

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.” 

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you. 

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?” 

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.” 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.” 

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?” 

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.” 

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?” 

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college? 

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards? 

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice? 

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.” 

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.” 

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest. 

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.” 

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking. 

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel. 

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t. 

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones. 

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about? 

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him? 

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence. 

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—! 

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?” 

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.” 

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?” 

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for. 

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.” 

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.” 

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.” 

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—! 

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card. 

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.” 

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.” 

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.” 

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink. 

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!” 

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” 

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand. 

“Uh, ready to get going?” 

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter. 

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand. 

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.” 

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered. 

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password. 

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-) 

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks. 

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply. 

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation. 

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…” 

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom. 

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger. 

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly. 

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.” 

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away. 

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper. 

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.” 

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.” 

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing. 

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing. 

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other. 

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. 

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly. 

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.” 

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…” 

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.” 

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.” 

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you. 

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me? 

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time. 

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know? 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?” 

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.” 

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely. 

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed? 

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?” 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.” 

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you. 

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you. 

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?” 

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?” 

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!” 

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck. 

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.” 

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply? 

“Oh.” 

“I know.” 

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?” 

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.” 

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.” 

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush. 

It’s much better than the fantasy. 

.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing. 

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position. 

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back. 

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?” 

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?” 

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?” 

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers. 

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.” 

You smile back. “Hi.” 

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?” 

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him. 

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.” 

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?” 

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.” 

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.” 

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.” 

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough. 

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks. 

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.” 

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.” 

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.” 

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true. 

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.” 

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?” 

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?” 

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?” 

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room. 

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food. 

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.” 

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter. 

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough. 

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it. 

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days. 

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery. 

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.” 

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter. 

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…” 

Your lips part. “Jungkook!” 

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?” 

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage. 

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room. 

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room. 

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you. 

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.” 

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?” 

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!” 

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips. 

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze. 

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip. 

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes. 

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile. 

You gape at him. “You invited me though!” 

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.” 

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out 

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.” 

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.” 

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?” 

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!” 

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!” 

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?” 

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.” 

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.” 

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him. 

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.” 

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.” 

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room. 

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.” 

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.” 

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?” 

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss. 

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away. 

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze. 

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.” 

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?” 

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.” 

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room. 

.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position. 

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you. 

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach. 

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.” 

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.” 

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship. 

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts. 

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been. 

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone. 

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you. 

More than that, it’s Jennie. 

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not. 

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you. 

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding. 

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume? 

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie. 

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be? 

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way? 

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him? 

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe. 

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat. 

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well. 

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.” 

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you. 

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings. 

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you. 

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. ���Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat. 

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door. 

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days. 

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day. 

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong. 

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?” 

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?” 

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.” 

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.” 

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!” 

“Jungkook, it’s fine.” 

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside. 

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart. 

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence. 

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you. 

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this? 

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space. 

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle. 

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole. 

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you. 

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore. 

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it. 

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?” 

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?” 

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!” 

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?” 

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?” 

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?” 

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.” 

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now. 

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt. 

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist. 

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?” 

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless. 

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable. 

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.” 

He pauses. “What do you mean?” 

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.” 

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.” 

You’re still trying to catch your breath. 

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?” 

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…” 

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.” 

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?” 

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.” 

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice. 

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…” 

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down. 

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot. 

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.” 

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible 

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them? 

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together… 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects? 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U 

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career?? 

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe? 

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !! 

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH 

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE 

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine 

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!! 

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read 

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :( 

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross 

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight! 

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him. 

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?” 

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.” 

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo. 

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.” 

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable. 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…” 

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.” 

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?” 

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…” 

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

You nod. “About time.” 

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat. 

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?” 

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.” 

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room. 

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night. 

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers. 

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.” 

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.” 

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice. 

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.” 

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.” 

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets. 

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close. 

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?” 

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit. 

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.” 

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?” 

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back. 

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.” 

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.” 

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.” 

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness. 

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race. 

“Did you switch the towel?” 

You nod. 

“How do you feel?” 

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?” 

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?” 

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.” 

“Okay, go ahead then.” 

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with. 

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous. 

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to. 

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other. 

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world. 

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area. 

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you. 

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights. 

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts. 

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you. 

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” 

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.” 

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.” 

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.” 

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest. 

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.” 

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more. 

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it. 

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?” 

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off. 

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?” 

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.” 

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?” 

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.” 

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration. 

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. 

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly. 

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck. 

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.” 

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it. 

[opheliadawnwalker3]

The Watching

Author’s Note: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s fic swap. I picked @sherrybaby14​ :) Hope you like it hun and Merry Christmas!!

Synopsis: Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

Contains: strong sexual content, cunnilinguous, penetration, threesome, voyeurism, some audience participation, fluffy holiday cheer

Wacchinsrinn- Old Norse means “The Watching”

*****************************************************************************************

You stand in the elaborately decorated banquet hall, carefully nursing another full goblet of Asgard’s famous honeyed wine. Thor had left you alone, mere moments before, no doubt to personally welcome his people to the Yule celebration. In the corner, several Asgardian citizens play musical instruments and the rest are either drunkenly dancing, feasting on delicious foods or laughing uproariously. Eager faces are painted with intricate symbols and there is much joy and carefree energy in the air. Normally, you’re not such a wall flower, but being surrounded by Thor’s fiercely lively people is a whole new experience for you. You had already witnessed the burning of the wooden Yule wreath earlier and had cheered with the others when it was sent hurtling down the hill and fell among the stars. In the corner of the vast hall stands the Yule tree, decorated not with the colored glass balls you were accustomed to, but small statues of previous kings and mythical creatures. After seeing the God of Thunder for over a year, you were overjoyed to hear him say that he wanted to finally bring you back to his world. His kingdom. 

It happened to be close to Christmas, but other than the typical mandatory bland office party and receiving a few Christmas cards, you really had no other plans. Why on Earth would you ever pass that up? The chance to not only see the place he grew up in, but to be among his people and culture. His friends and-

“Well, well...don’t we look fetching this evening?” A sly familiar voice utters behind you, erupting a subtle heat across the back of your neck. Turning, you see Loki, sharply donned with tailored green silks and a gray pelt clasped around his shoulders. Instead of his usual absurdly large golden horns, a delicate golden crown balances at his temple. 

You raise your goblet to him. “You clean up rather nicely yourself.”

Loki tilts his head, keen emerald eyes slowly trailing down your body and you could almost swear he could see right through the crimson silk of your gown. His lips curl into a devious smile and your heart flutters against your will. “Do enjoy the festivities...mind the honeyed wines. They are much stronger than the tepid liquors served on Midgard.”

You roll your eyes as you defiantly take another sip. You would be lying if you said, you weren’t already feeling buzzed. The warmth that spreads across your cheeks, that familiar light headed feeling. You would have to pace yourself. You can’t make a fool out of yourself at your first Asgardian Yuletide. And you were here with Thor for God’s sake. You didn’t want to humiliate him or yourself.

A loud clang sounds near you and your attention is momentarily drawn to Volstagg, one of Thor’s infamous Warrior’s Three, laughing boisterously as he picks up his dropped axe. No doubt, in the middle of a drunken retelling of old battle stories. 

Lips brush the shell of your ear and you automatically tense up. Your breath hitches as slender fingers ghost over your bare shoulders.

“I look forward, to seeing much more of you later.” Loki purrs huskily into your ear and you are rooted to the spot. His alluring voice holds dark promises. Your brows furrow in confusion and before you are able to ask just what he means by that, Thor’s voice cuts across the room. You look over to see him cross the room with jovial presence. His bright blue eyes crinkle with happiness at the sight of you.

Loki withdraws from you completely and you let out a sigh of relief. The wine...it must have been the wine. You would have to drink water to spread it out.

Seemingly unbothered at Loki’s closeness, Thor smiles warmly as he slips his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You sigh, relishing the comforting feeling of his lips and presence as you pull him in closer. For the past year, Thor had been a beacon of light in your boring, mundane life. He would entertain you for hours with tales of his childhood, battles and stories about his time with the Avengers. He made you feel exciting just by being in his presence. Feel incredibly safe just by being in his strong embrace. He never left you wanting whether physically, mentally or emotionally. You only hoped you did the same for him. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Thor’s deep voice rumbles against your mouth.

“I am. I just wish we could-”

“Ah there’s the lovely couple. Starting Wacchinsrinn a bit early are we not?” You recognize Fandral’s charming voice sounding next to you. You pull back from Thor slightly with a raised brow.

“Wacchinsrinn? What’s that?”

Before the smaller roguish blonde can answer you, Thor laughs and quickly begins to lead you away from the two men. Confused, you look back to see Fandral and Loki exchange knowing smiles.

“What on earth was that about?” You ask, setting your now empty goblet down on one of the long wooden tables. Funny, you hadn’t even remembered drinking it all.

“Just Fandral with one of his jokes. Pay the scoundrel no mind,” Thor replies playfully before spinning you around wildly among the other dancing patrons. You wish to press him further but a mixture of the otherworldly alcohol and contagious euphoria around you, causes your curiosity to melt away and you gather your skirts to join the dance. 

**********************************************************************************

About an hour later, Thor leads you down the hall by the hand. You stumble a bit and giggle with tipsy merriment as he turns the corner to open a pair of grand ornate doors. You tilt your head in confusion as you take in the lavish yet unfamiliar chambers within.

“Hey this isn’t the same room, you showed me earlier. This isn’t yours, right?”

“You’re right, Y/N. This is our room.”

“Ooo our room you say?” You tease as you take in your surroundings, Thor walking in behind you to shut the doors. Inside the chamber was a large king sized bed with a full canopy and intricately carved designs in the wood. The sheets were golden and there was a table set with trays of cheese and fruits and silver pitchers no doubt filled with mead and wine. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. You look back at Thor whose looking down at you with an expression you can’t quite decifer. 

“What’s with all the chairs pointed facing the bed? Kind of an unusual arrangement, isn’t it?”

“It’s for...Wacchinsrinn.”

“There’s that word again. What is it?”

Before Thor can respond, there is a low chuckle and suddenly Loki appears next to you.

“Oh dear, you haven’t told her. How irresponsible and devious of you, brother.”

“Hush, Loki.” Thor looks down at you and brings a massive hand to cup your face. “Please forgive me, Y/N. I didn’t want you to worry or feel pressured to do anything.”

“Although it is an Asgardian tradition. I don’t believe Y/N wants to be the cause of the King’s refusal to uphold a tradition maintained for thousands of years.”

“Not the time, Loki...”

“I disagree. I think it’s the perfect time...”

“No he’s right. I’m not going to stand in the way of you upholding your kingly duties. Whatever you need to do, I’ll support you.” You encourage, placing a hand on Thor’s arm.

“How touching, but your amorous participation is very much required.” Loki interjects with a dangerous smirk and Thor sighs, clearly conflicted. You look back and forth between the pair.

“My what participation?”

Before Loki could reply, Thor raises his hand in front of him.

“Loki, leave us.”

“Oh, I think not. This is all rather entertaining for me.”

“Leave now.” Thor’s tone is tense and clipped and you can’t help feeling a little nervous. What is going on? Why all the secrecy? And what exactly is expected of you?

“So tense, brother. Perhaps you should have her tend to you first and help get those bothersome...kinks out.”

Thor says, nothing, merely glares at Loki, before the latter sighs in reluctant surrender.

“Very well, I suppose I could check on the rest of the rabble and see if they are ready to bear witness.” And with that, Loki disappears, leaving you and Thor alone once more. You look up at the god and cross your arms.

“Thor just tell me. What’s the tradition?” Your eyes widen briefly when you think back to all of the those Viking and Pagan shows you watched in mild preparation for the Yule celebration.

“I won’t have to do an animal sacrifice will I?”

Thor smiles and shakes his head as he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “No animal sacrifices will be required of you, I promise.”

“Okay...then what is expected of me?”

Thor pauses for a moment in quiet contemplation, gathering his thoughts before he eventually sighs. “On Asgard, the act of coupling is a merry and happy occasion. Asgardians do not view such an act with such...modesty as on Midgard.”

You nod, following along and very curious as to where this is going.

“And so...the notion of sharing such a joyous act with others...is considered...a generous gift.”

You eyes widen slightly as the realization begins to wash over you. “And when you say sharing...you mean...??”

Thor gives you an embarrassed smile. “Those closest to us shall bear witness to our union.”

“So...your companions are just going to watch us?”

“If that is agreeable to you. It is not uncommon for them to join in should all participating consent.”

You chew on your bottom lip and cross your arms. “So that’s what everyone has been referring to all night.”

“Yes.”

You contemplate for a few moments more, weighing your options in your head. You should be appalled that your boyfriend just sprang this on you, royalty or not. But you just can’t find yourself to be angry. On the contrary...the idea is intriguing. You’d always been fascinated by the thought of voyeurism. Whether watching someone else or being watched yourself. But you’d never had the courage to explore it. There was even once an incident where Hawkeye accidentally walked into the room while you were riding Thor at Avengers Tower. Instead of being embarrassed...you only clenched tighter around Thor’s cock. Even felt a pang of disappointment when Hawkeye quickly left the room with amused apologies. Maybe this was your chance to finally explore one of your fantasies.

You finally look back up at Thor, his handsome face etched with worry and concern.

“Okay.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I want to do this. For you, but mostly for me,” You admit, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. You see a flash of green in the corner of your eye and Loki appears next to you, holding two goblets full of wine. He gives you an impish smirk as he holds one out to you.

“How about a little more wine to take the edge off. Perhaps numb your defenses a bit,” Loki drawled as you eagerly accept the wine. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone. Thor watches you carefully as you take several large pulls of the sweet wine, embracing the numbing warmth that pools down your body.

“Are you sure about this ,Y/N?” Thor asks softly, his usual booming voice now quiet with uncertainty. 

You set your now empty goblet on the table next to you and give him a confident smile. Sure, you felt emboldened by the wine, but you also felt very eager for what lays ahead Thor reaches up to cup your jaw with both hands, his bright blue eyes melting any doubts you might have had.

“Because if you’re not, then damn the traditions. I will never ask you to do anything you’re not ready for. We can leave now, go back to Midgard and celebrate your traditional Christmas.”

You feel your heart swell with appreciation and adoration and you turn your head slightly to kiss his fingers. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I will. You mean more to me that anything.”

“Then I want to do this. I’m happy to do it.”

Thor leans down to press his lips to yours once more in a sweet gentle kiss to which you eagerly reciprocate. Next to you, Loki chuckles as he takes a sip from his goblet.

“Not to break up this touching little moment, but the others are getting restless.”

Thor reluctantly pulls away, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Then we shall not keep them waiting.”

 The potent alcohol flows within you, but something else pools within. Excitement and pure unadulterated desire. Loki chuckles and you feel his hands on your hips as he presses in close behind you. Surprised, you look up to Thor for guidance, but he merely stares at the pair of you with a calm unbothered expression.

“And will you allow any of the witnesses to enjoy her as well?” Loki insinuates, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I myself, am curious if she tastes as good as she looks.” Your breath hitches and your heart begins to pound harder at his carnal implications. 

Thor smirks and gestures down to you. “That is entirely up to you. If you desire another, then it shall be done.”

You let out a soft gasp, completely taken aback by this turn of events. But certainly not upset at the prospect. You would be lying to yourself if you never thought about how alluringly charming and attractive Loki is. So very different from your Thor, yet enticing all the same. When will you get another opportunity like this? 

“Yes...I...I want you both.”

“Very well, then let them all in and we’ll begin the Wacchinsrinn.”

Loki presses a brief kiss to your neck, before gracefully leaving the room. You feel your nerves beginning to flutter in your gut, battling against your arousal and the tension in the air from the possibilities.

Thor steps up to you and carefully traces his hand down your front. Your nipples harden through the thin silk and you lick your lips. 

“Who...who will be watching us?”

“The Warriors Three, Lady Sif, Loki and Heimdall will watch from the Rainbow Bridge since he cannot personally attend. But do not be nervous. You are perfection. This is a gift not only for my companions but us as well.”

You take a deep breath, heartbeat speeding up when you hear approaching footsteps and the large ornate doors open.

Fandral walks in first, his eyes drinking you in. “Ahh lovely, Y/N...you look ready for your first Wacchinsrinn. Tell me, has Thor prepared you properly? Because if not, I offer you my services. I’m told I’m quite talented in such matters.”

“Oh do settle down, Fandral. She has already chosen me to help...alleviate the tension. Do enjoy your seat, though.” Loki retorts playfully as he unclasps the fur from around his shoulders. 

Fandral winks at you as he gracefully drops in his seat. “Well I suppose that silver tongue has its uses after all.” 

The combination of alcohol, nerves, and your excitement for things to come, make your skin tingle with anticipation.

Lady Sif follows close behind, dressed elegantly in a fitted gown of midnight blue. Her usually tied up long hair, hangs down her back in loose curls. She takes her place in the middle seat and crosses her legs expectantly as she gives you a small encouraging smile. She gives a side eye to Volstagg, who decided to bring a large turkey leg to the ceremony, as he sits next to her.

“Honestly...must you eat even while we bear witness?”

Volstagg lets out a good humored laugh as he takes a bite of the roasted meat. “What is the point of enjoying such stimulating entertainment without filling my gullet? No point in doing things half way, I say.”

Hogun silently joins the group and crosses his arms, his stoic face betraying nothing. Thor stands tall and acknowledges all who are present.

“Now that we are all here, its time to begin. We thank those closest to us in sharing this moment. May this gift offer you many blessings and good omens on and off the battlefield.” 

“And what a gift it is,” Exclaims Fandral, holding up his own pint of mead.

“Hear, hear!” Volstagg agrees excitedly. Sif and Hogun remain silent, but their subtle expressions hold a keen interest.

The Warriors cheer and you can’t help but smile at the almost absurd nature of it all. 

“My desired and I shall drink from the cup and then proceed with Wacchinsrinn,” Thor exclaims as he holds out another goblet will only half full. The both of you drink from it and Loki takes the empty goblet away. Thor wastes no time undressing with unwavering confidence and leans down to capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“It is time to be worshipped, like the goddess you are,” Thor purrs in a husky voice against your lips as his hands trail down your waist. His pretty words and deep tone makes your thighs clench together as your pussy throbs.

You feel Loki press in close behind you and he carefully pushes your hair off your neck. Their closeness is intoxicating. “But first you must bare yourself to us,” Loki whispers lowly in your ear as dexterous fingers make swift work of the clasps on your shoulders. The top slips down revealing your breasts and you gasp when Thor’s hands begin caressing with eager, calloused hands. Loki grips your hips as his mouth traces a tantalizing path up your neck.

Your fingers tangle in Thor’s blonde locks when he lowers himself to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth. His mouth is hot and he licks and nibbles your breasts. You’re suddenly feeling very flushed, your skin scorching under their ministrations. 

You feel Loki’s teeth against your throat and he chuckles into your ear. “You should think yourself fortunate. Our great grandfather would often bend his women over the table in the banquet hall during Wacchinsrinn. For all of Asgard to see. This way is far more...intimate.” With that he grabs your chin and kisses you greedily.

After a few moments, the two men lead you to the bed. Thor sits down first and pulls you back between his spread legs. His cock full and hard against your back. His kisses you once more and you feel his hands slide up your thighs, taking the crimson silk of your skirts with it. You lean back against his thick muscled body and stare up at Loki, who remains at the foot of the bed fixed with an expectant sneer.

“Would you like Loki to taste you? Allow him to thoroughly ready your body for me?” Thor questions as his fingers reach your eager cunt beneath the silk. You moan, your hips raising slightly to feel every caress of his fingers. He chuckles arrogantly and you hear the lewd sounds of his fingers easily slipping inside you.

“Well...it seems she’s already quite ready. We may not need your services after all, Loki,” Thor exclaims playfully, displaying his fingertips already soaked in your arousal.

“That may be brother, though I should like to hear it from her lips that she does not desire my mouth on her delectable quim.” Loki replies as he slowly pulls the green tunic over his head with smug ease, revealing his pale yet toned upper body. Both men know you’re not saying no at this point. In fact, no, is the farthest thing from your mind.

You give him a mischievous grin as you beckon him with just the crook of your finger and Loki obliges, crawling up between your spread thighs with a dangerous smile. He looks as though he may just devour you whole. 

When his mouth meets your cunt, you immediately relax back against Thor, enjoying every sensation as Loki unravels you. His tongue glides along your slit with expert ease, rolling and flicking over your throbbing clit. Thor’s beard tickles your bare shoulder as he nips the skin and caresses your breasts. You felt trapped between the two brothers in the most heavenly way.

“How does she taste, Loki?” You hear Volstagg call out and your eyes snap open. You had almost forgotten you were being watched. You bite back a whine when Loki raises up slightly, your cunt already missing his mouth.

“Better than the finest of delicacies on Asgard. She truly is a delicious well of vanilla and honey.” Loki brags and your breath hitches when his lips immediately return to you, wrapping around your clit and gently sucking.

“I knew it. Pay up Fandral,” you hear Volstagg boast and Fandral sighs as he drops a few coins in his companions outstretched hand.

Beneath you, Thor undulates his hips into you and your cunt clenches tightly, wanting to be filled. 

“I can feel Heimdall’s ever watchful eyes upon us. He is thoroughly enjoying the sights as well. He wonders if you would like my cock deep inside you with my brother’s mouth still upon you.” Thor whispers softly into your ear as he pinches a nipple.

Between Loki’s adept mouth and Thor’s touches and carnal words, you can barely form words of your own. But you manage just the same.

“God yes. Please, Thor...” You mewl pathetically as your thighs twitch around Loki’s shoulders. His fingers massage and squeeze your spread thighs.

With that, Thor raises your hips and lines your soaked entrance with his tip. Loki raises his head slightly to follow your cunt. His piercing green eyes staring up hungrily at you. Being worshipped by these men...feeling several pairs of eyes on you at once...its all very intoxicating.

“Lower yourself upon me. Let me feel you clench desperately around me.” Thor commands softly against your temple, his hands gripping your hips and holding you above him. You nod eagerly and you sink down onto him completely. Your pussy is dripping and more than ready, yet Thor’s thick shaft still stretches you slightly and the pair of you moan loudly. Loki chuckles against your flesh, sending vibrations over your clit and making your cunt tighten around Thor.

“By the gods...your grip is always so exceptional. I could just feel you squeeze me all day, though I’d be fighting the urge to drive into you with everything I have.”

“Move her skirts. We would like to see too,” Lady Sif commands from her seat. You briefly raise your eyes to meet hers and her expression is heated and very much satisfied.

“As the lady commands,” Thor agrees as he rips the silk away, baring the rest of you to the room.

You mewl loudly as Loki begins to speed up his tongue, sucking at your clit a little harder. Your fingers reach up to tangle in his dark tresses as he brings your body closer and closer. Your hips roll atop Thor and you continue to mercilessly squeeze his cock sheathed inside you. That familiar icy hot numbing sensation spreads over you as your body climbs higher and higher towards the peak.

“She’s definitely close. Such a sweet thing, they’ve barely had to touch her,” Fandral observes smugly.

“True, but I still bet that she will last through the night.” Lady Sif replies with subtle arrogance.

“Ah, shall we bet on it then, Lady Sif?”

“You have nothing I want, Fandral.”

“How about if I polish your armor for a full moon?”

“What, and let you leave spots all over my-”

“Will you two stop your incessant blathering? She’s about to fall and I would like to enjoy it in its entirety,” Hogun finally quips in with a surprisingly gruff voice. 

You cry out as Loki’s mouth unravels you, causing your cunt to pulsate tightly around Thor. He grips you atop him as he hisses into your ear.

After a few more languid licks of your slit, Loki finally sits up from between your thighs and pulls you into a deep kiss. Your inner walls tighten around Thor yet again when you taste your own juices on Loki’s lips.

The room erupts in applause as the Warriors clap and cheer wholeheartedly.

“A good first round, I’d say!” Volstagg exclaimed as he slams his empty goblet upon the floor in celebration. 

“I agree. I think Y/N is fully warmed up now. We’re going to need much more wine and mead before we proceed forward.”

“And more bread!” Volstagg adds, tossing an empty turkey leg upon his plate.

“I wonder if Y/N, will allow Loki to continue to tend to her,” Lady Sif muses aloud.

At that, Loki finally pulls away from you, licking your bottom lip with an imperious smirk. “I will of course, perform as such, should she require it of me.”

Thor laughs, clamping a hand on Loki’s bare shoulder. “Well down, brother. But I should like you to sit this next one out for now. I wish to ravage her myself this time.”

“Such a bore...but I will concede for now.” Loki sighs snidely before lightly touching your jaw and leaving the bed. 

With Thor’s cock still buried inside you, you look up at him with an impish expression. “So, there’s more to Wacchinsrinn? We’re not finished yet?”

He brushes his lips against your temple as his hands tighten on your hips. “Oh no, my love. We go until you cannot go any longer. When you have had enough, then we will stop. But I know you and....I know you have several more hours in you.”

As he thrusts up into you again accompanied by the supportive cheers of his companians, you smile, truly feeling full filled for the first time in a long time.

From his post on the Rainbow Bridge, the ever watchful Heimdall smiles at the glorious sights before him.

Taglist: @sherrybaby14​ @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @lucifers-trash-stash​ @cherienymphe​ @imanuglywombat​ @threeminutesoflife​ @charmed-asylum​ @thefangirllife​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @searchforanotherway​ @sapphirescrolls​ @hurricanerin​ @cockslut-padalecki​ @different-type-of-hell​ @darkandinvitingfics​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @oneoftheprettynerds​

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 10-14

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 10-14 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 10

It was the third day. The sun had set entirely, and Elmyra hadn't returned home yet. Aerith hadn't eaten anything after the bread and soup from noon. What should she do if she became any hungrier? Should she head downstairs to search for food? But suppose she did that at her convenience without asking her? In that case, Elmyra might dislike her for it — After thinking about things like that, there was an indication of the door opening.  

"It's me," the grumpy voice of Elmyra could be heard.

"I'll be prepping the food right away."

"Okayyyy."

However, there was no response. As Aerith sat down on the chair and waited quietly, the noise and the whiff from the cooking wafted over. Aerith then took out a collapsible table from the closet and set it up, imitating how Elmyra does it. Eventually, Elmyra came upstairs with a tray of a warm bean dish and bread.

"Thanks for waiting."

"Ahh!!"

Seeing Elmyra, Aerith shrieked involuntarily. A sizable plaster was stuck on her right eyebrow and the outer corner of her eye.

"I had a little fall. Don't worry about it."

After transferring the food from the tray to the table, Elmyra mumbled something from her mouth and then started eating. It seems that she doesn't want to talk about it in detail. If that's the case...

"Thank you for the food!"

Aerith started eating as cheerfully as possible.

"It's delicious!"

"It's canned food."

"Canned food is delicious."

"Whoever made it would probably be glad to hear it, perhaps."

"Who made this?"

"A Shinra factory. Well then, have your meal quietly."

After hearing that the canned food was a Shinra product, the joy in Aerith plummeted.

Without a moment's delay, Elmyra then said, "It's difficult to live without Shinra's products. I can't bake bread at home without ingredients and fuel from Shinra. You have to come to terms with it."

"What does 'come to terms' mean?"

"You probably somewhat got it, didn't you? Did you forget? I told you to have your meal quietly."

There was irritation in her voice, and Aerith was regretful. However, if her efforts to enjoy her meal had gone to waste, she also thought she shouldn't hold back anymore.

"Okay. But, tell me one thing. Elmyra, where do you go after breakfast?"

Elmyra stopped her eating hand and fixed her eyes on Aerith. However, she looked down at the plate after several seconds, she again put the beans in her mouth. Aerith couldn’t read Elmyra’s expression at all, and she didn't know what to do anymore.

"I used to bring along this table to a lot of picnics."

It seems that she was interested in having a conversation. Elmyra's voice was gentle.

"Picnic? I know what that is!"

"Even though I say so, it's still the slums. As much as possible, I would go to places without people and monsters, have a ham and cheese sandwich and even drink a little alcohol."

"Seems fun!"

"It really is."

Elmyra's expression became gloomy, and Aerith panicked. She cannot let this fun conversation come to an end.

"Did you go alone?"

"Nope, that's not the case."

Elmyra placed the bread back on the plate, went out of the room. She then entered her room along the corridor. Shortly after, she returned to the room, holding a photo frame in hand and held it out to Aerith. The photograph projected Elmyra snuggling up close with a man Aerith didn't know, with the upper half of her body. They were sandwiched in between this small table. The man's face and build were robust in comparison to the slender Elmyra.

They both looked like they were happily laughing.

"Clay Gainsborough. He's Gabriel's only son and my husband."

"Your husband!? I know what a husband is! A husband is a wife's important person. A wife is a husband's important person."

Elmyra let out a giggle.

"Yes, he's my husband and an important person to me. You can address him as 'Clay' when he comes back. He likes children, so he would welcome you."

"Where is Clay now?" Aerith asked as she looked at the photograph.

There was no response. When Aerith lifted her head, she saw Elmyra's face, which looked like she was about to cry. She then forcibly put up a smile once they made eye contact.

"He went to war. I got a letter saying that he would be coming home because he took work leave. It's already been six days since he was supposed to be back. The day I met you was the third day."

Aerith understood Elmyra's strange behaviour.

"Do you go to the station every day?"

"Yea... From morning till evening. I probably look like a moron."

"Not at all," Aerith shook her head.

"There’s no point asking Shinra where he is. They tell me something like the trooper's whereabouts is a secret. Shinra surely isn’t flexible at all."

"Clay is a Shinra trooper?"

"Yes, that's right. I should have talked about this first. It's my bad. This household actually has a deep involvement with Shinra."

Aerith's body stiffened.

"But don't worry. Clay and I, we won't do things like ratting you out to Shinra. Aerith, even though I don't know the situation, I'll never forget the desperate look of your mother. We won't do such things to betray you."

"Okay."

To hide her feeling of uneasiness, she hid both cheeks with her hands. However, Elmyra left her eyes fixed on the photo frame and continued her story.

"Clay volunteered to be a Shinra trooper to avoid public criticism that the Gainsborough household was getting preferential treatment from Shinra. Gabriel objected to it, but Clay had already decided, and he stuck to his choice. They haven't spoken to each other since then. I had to go back and forth between these two men to convey things to them."

"Clay and Gabriel, they didn’t get along well?"

"They clashed often, but they had the same personality."

If they had the same personality, maybe that’s why they became like this. Aerith didn't really understand that. However, she saw Elmyra's gentle look as she spoke. It made her inclined to believe that even though Clay was a Shinra trooper, he probably was a good Shinra trooper.

"Aerith, isn't there anything you'd like to talk to me about? Regarding things that are better if I know them?"

There are plenty of things that she should talk about. However, she should probably tell the truth. That she is a Cetra. That people refer to her as an Ancient.

She recollected the various tales of the Cetra that she heard from Ifalna. Elmyra was a good person, and there was no mistaking that. She was not only all words, and she acted upon to help strangers. Clay was also undoubtedly a good person. In the photograph, he had the same smile as Elmyra. However, people may change if she told them she's an Ancient. The Shinra Company wanted to know the secrets of the Ancients, and that was why everyone was gentle and kind. If they were to reveal their true self, everyone would probably be the same as Professor Hojo. They would be itching to inject needles and cutting skin off.

"My mummy and I were captured by this crazy scientist and locked up in the Shinra Building. My mummy had a lot of experiments done on her, that's why she became sick. If I were to be captured by Shinra, that would be me. That's why I want to be here. I also like it here—the house and the garden too. I will also eat Shinra's canned food, so Elmyra, please..."

Elmyra looked at Aerith with her mouth wide open. Shortly after, she reached out her hands across the small table and wrapped them around Aerith's.

"Is there even such a thing? No... there probably is. Yea, of course, you don't have to go back. I promise that I won't do anything that you would hate. Well then, shall we finish eating?"

The two ate quietly. And before long...

"There is a guest coming tomorrow, so I'll probably be cooking for the first time in a while. I like to cook, but it's troublesome if I cook alone for myself. Now that you're here, it'll be good if I cook more, right?"

"I... want to cook! I'd like to help!"

"I’m not sure about that... The kitchen is on the first floor. I think it's still too early for you. "

Aerith was dejected, but she soon looked up.

"That guest... What kind of person is he?"

"That guest... He's Meguro, the second in charge."

"Me-gu-ro-the-second-in-charge."

"Yes. I have to also talk about our family's business, and I’ll tell you about it tomorrow."

And then, after Elmyra finished her meal, she asked casually, "You probably are missing your mummy, aren't you?"

Scene 11

"At that time, I didn't feel things like longing or loneliness. When nightfall arrives, we'll be able to meet. And even if we weren't able to meet, she's connected with the Planet. I could believe that. Moreover, inside the pouch that I received from my mother was a materia. It does nothing other than shining a dim white light. It's not good for anything at all. But when I have it with me, I feel calm."

"It's good for something after all, isn't it?"

"Ahhh, I guess so!"

Aerith touched the knot in her hair at the back of her head. The materia from that time was still with her.

"I wonder who you will pass it on to..." Tifa uttered.

She didn’t understand what she meant at that moment..

"Hey, Tifa."

"Hmmm?"

"I haven't even thought about that before."

There might come a day where she would no longer be ‘the final descendant of the Cetra'. She imagined that scenario in astonishment and fixed her eyes on Tifa. She then flustered ―

"Sorry, I said something strange. Well then, may you tell me the rest of the story? About the second-in-command?..."

Scene 12

Unexpectedly, Aerith was allowed to sit at the lunch table. She was called to the table on the first floor. Meguro then got up from his chair and requested a handshake. Meguro was a plump and cheerful-eyed adult. He looked much older than Elmyra.

"This is Meguro, the second-in-charge. He's Gabriel's right-hand man, Clay's childhood friend, and he's an excellent advisor of mine."

"Good afternoon Mr Meguro. I'm Aerith."

"I heard it from Elmyra. It must have been tough for you."

Aerith was startled, and she looked at Elmyra.

"Meguro is fine. Even if I keep this from him, he's a well-informed and intuitive person. He'll get information from somewhere right away and notice it. That's why I thought it'd be better if I break it to him early on."

Aerith was unhappy about it. It was supposed to be a secret between the both of them. However, since it came to that, there was nothing she could do.

"Aerith. Shinra is making a fuss about you and your mother. In connection to that, there are also occurrences of kidnapping. There's a despicable gang that kidnaps the girls in the slums and tries to make money off it."

"How do they make money? There's probably no way they can fool Shinra."

"Of course, but there are also a bunch who would purchase the girl that Shinra is searching for. It's probably not too tricky to deceive greedy, mean bastards."

Meguro faced his giant body towards Aerith. "You're six years old, no, seven."

"I'm seven."

"Is that so? I also have a seven-year-old daughter. Her name is Rona. That's why this case is not just any other person's problem, and hence this is my suggestion. You two are to be parent and child from now on. Aerith to not be sneaking around, but to go out with Elmyra boldly. You both will meet people and introduce yourselves. You will..." Meguro said as he pointed at Elmyra.

"You will say this. This child was born before you married Clay. She was entrusted to your relatives, but you and Clay decided to live with her. That's about it."

"Hold up a second," Elmyra objects. "I don't understand your point."

"The purpose is to get Aerith known by the neighbourhood and to make them recognise that this child lives here. If she lives in hiding and is taken away by kidnappers and Shinra, no one would probably notice. Elmyra, you probably are acquainted with all the inhabitants in the vicinity, aren't you? If she becomes your daughter, everyone should take notice."

"I see. If that's the case, what about being a relative's child? Or a child who’s adopted from the orphanage? Isn't that good too?"

"The orphanage is just a short distance away. Why would you want to adopt one from there? You wouldn't want to be pried on things like that. Well, however, if she's adopted from a relative, that should be fine. That's right. That would be natural. Well, I think..." Meguro squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. "I think you should be addressed as 'Mummy'. Just like how Gabriel made me call him 'Dad'."

Meguro then shifted his gaze to Aerith.

"I was an orphan, and Gabriel picked me up and raised me like his son. Aerith, what do you think? While you're here as the family's child, you'll live as Clay's and Elmyra's daughter."

"I'd like that too."

It seems like an excellent idea. Even if Aerith asks for help now, clearly, no one will care. Just like when she was looking for a doctor at the station. But if she were the daughter of Elmyra Gainsborough, that would be a different story. Elmyra was still thinking about it. Please, Elmyra.

"I think it's a good idea, but this is not just important to Aerith but also for the Gainsborough family. I can't immediately make a decision."

"Well, give it a good thought. Anyways, if Aerith is to go out, it'll be good for her to change her name. Yup, please give this some thought."

Change her name? Aerith was confused at the unexpected suggestion.

"By the way, Elmyra, is the scar on your face Carlo's doing?"

Elmyra looked at Aerith with a side glance.

"Even if I’ve hidden it, you probably already knew about it, right?"

Meguro proudly snorted.

"That guy is a problem. I can't even guess how he became an in-charge."

"With Gabriel gone, he probably thinks that Clay would approve him. Moreover, I'm his representative. He believes that if he threatens a woman, she will cry and give him her signature."

"We have to tighten the whole organisation a little then."

Meguro made a serious face.

"Clay will probably succeed Gabriel, right?"

"Yes. He's taking his work leave this time to talk to you about it."

"No, no, he likely took it to meet his beloved. Business is just an excuse."

Meguro laughed happily and then stood up.

"Leave Carlo to me. And let's talk about the whole organisation after Clay returns."

Scene 13

"After Meguro went off, I was informed about the Gainsborough family business. Gabriel was a manager who manages workers at the construction site. They call him 'The Recruiter'."

"Ahhh, I've heard of this."

"He had been doing this work since the beginning of the Midgar's construction. There are other people in the same profession, but everyone moved onto the plate once it was erected. Only Gabriel and his subordinates remained in the slums. The slums support the plate, and there are many facilities in the slums, aren't there? When that time comes when repair or construction work requires manpower, the Gainsborough family will be contacted."

Aerith gestured and drew a triangle before Tifa's eyes and points at the apex ―

"Gabriel was the first in charge. Clay and Meguro were the second in charge, and they supported the first in charge. The third in charge consisted of six people, and each of them had their own men. They gathered them, and moved under the instructions of the second in charge. Carlo, the hooligan, was like Clay's sworn younger brother."

Scene 14

"Do you understand, Aerith? In other words, this is a very important matter for you," Elmyra said as she placed her hands on Aerith' shoulders.

"Most of the family's work comes from Shinra, and my husband is also a trooper from Shinra. With that, do you still want to be here?"

Elmyra was waiting for an answer with a serious face. She was different from Ifalna and talked to Aerith about anything. That's why Aerith had to think and respond to her thoroughly.

"They are our clients, but it doesn't mean that we adore them. You don't have to worry about that."

It would be a lie to say that Aerith wasn't bothered by the fact that the household has such close relations with Shinra. But if she wasn't okay with it, she couldn't stay here. What should she do? What does she want to do? She looked at Elmyra. Her skin and hair were drier than Ifalna, and she could see that she was tired. She still hadn't removed the plaster on her face. The wound inflicted by Carlo, whom Ifalna happened to bump into on the way back from the station, seemed painful. She went to the station to wait for Clay. She really wanted to see him. And that very same Elmyra fixed her eyes onto Aerith. Even though things are tough on her, she still thought about Aerith's feelings.

Aerith realised it and hurriedly asked what she should have confirmed first.

"Elmyra, won't this trouble you? If I stay here, would it be okay?"

"What are you talking about? Of course."

Without knowing how to express her relief and delight, Aerith hugged Elmyra. She pressed her face onto Elmyra's flat stomach, and Elmyra wrapped her arms around Aerith's back and brought her close for an embrace.

"Well, Clay and I don't have any experience in raising children. We've only learnt by watching others while doing the family's business. We can't say that we know much. There will probably be troubles along the way, and there's a chance Shinra may find you. But let's come up with a solution with everyone when that time comes. By everyone I mean Clay, Meguro, myself and you, Aerith."

Aerith nodded with her forehead still pushed on Elmyra's belly.

“Hey, Aerith. Can you call me 'Mummy'? Of course, you don't have to be serious about it because you only have one mummy."

"Mummy," Aerith tried saying while her forehead remained pressed.

"What was that?"

"Mummy."

"Once more."

"Mummy?"

"It's ticklish, but I don't think it's bad. What do you think?"

Aerith looked up, and she saw Elmyra's gentle face."

"It isn't bad!" Aerith imitated.

Elmyra let out a big laugh. The atmosphere in the room seemed like it started dancing.

↞↠

Ifalna appeared during nighttime, and Aerith told her about the happenings in the day. Ifalna closed her eyes and nodded with satisfaction.

"I'm glad, Aerith."

"But... I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"After all..."

From the time after Aerith saw her face, she had feelings of guilt.

"I'm okay with it. Rather than thinking about me, I want you to have a good time. How's your new name coming along?"

"Elmyra told me to think about it myself."

"I see... Do properly give it thought. That name will be your ticket to freedom."

"Okay..."

"To me, I'll miss the name that I'm familiar with and cherish. But you'll always be Aerith. My adorable Aerith. That will not change."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Ifalna's figure wavered for a moment. Aerith panicked and called out to stop her.

"You know what, Mummy? What should I do if Clay doesn't want me? What should I do if he dislikes me and would be angry at me if I stay in this house? And if he says that, he'll return me to Shinra..."

"I think it'll be fine. He's the husband that Elmyra chose, after all, right?"

"Yup, that's right."

Her uneasiness did not precisely go away.

"I wonder where Clay is..."

"That's true... I'll try searching for him."

"Okay, please."

↞↠

It was the following morning. Aerith was drinking tea with Elmyra on the first floor. An old man with a small stature came to visit. He was Butch, a third in command. The wrinkles imprinted on his entire dark-skinned face was impressionable.

"Good morning Butch. You came earlier than the agreed timing, didn’t you?"

"Sorry. It's my bad. Shall I come back again?"

"No, no, it doesn't matter."

She handed over the documents she had prepared. These are the documents necessary for the job. After Butch confirmed its contents, he nodded with satisfaction and placed them inside a tattered bag.

"And, who is this child?" Butch asked Elmyra as he looked at Aerith.

"Ahhh, I have to introduce her, right?"

"She's my cousin's daughter, but my cousin passed away. So I decided to adopt her."

"She doesn't have a father?"

"Eh? Ah. Yes, yes. She doesn't."

Elmyra couldn't hide her nervousness.  Butch squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. He then turned them to Aerith. It was the first time that Aerith saw such a wrinkled face. His thin eyes were like a part of his wrinkles.

"Hey, young girl, what's your name?"

She was fascinated by his wrinkles, that when she was suddenly asked a question, she was shaken. And then...

"I'm Rona. Nice to meet you, Mr Butch."

After she said that, she thought she was done for. It was too late. Rona was the name of Meguro's daughter, and Butch definitely knew that too. Elmyra also became flustered.

"Ahhhh, what a coincidence."

Unsure if Butch saw their nervousness, he vaguely nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Rona."

After saying that, the old man went home.

"I'm beat."

Elmyra held her own head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't properly decide on it."

"No, no, I wasn't prepared."

Elmyra knelt on the floor and met Aerith's gaze.

"I should have expected that Butch to come early. He normally does. And also, the name too. I thought that the important thing about a new name is that it should be decided on your own, and I left it up to you, but of course, you need help with this. You're seven. Yeah, that's right."

That's right. Elmyra took a broom in her hand and started sweeping the floor while muttering to herself numerous times. It seems that doing the house chores calms her down. Shortly after, she poured Aerith a new glass of tea and invited her over.

“The next guest is Rodin. He's the same as Butch, a third in charge. He may be light-hearted at times, but deep down, he's a good kid."

"He's a kid?"

"No, no, he's only a lot younger than I am. And also, Aerith. He's scheduled to come here in the evening. I want to go to the station before that. There's a chance that Clay might come back. My bad, but may you hide on the second floor until I'm back? It'll be a problem if an unexpected guest comes over, isn't it?"

"Okay."

"It's fine if I bring you along, but it's probably still too soon for that."

"I'm alright with that. I do like the second-floor."

"Your name... Do think about it. I think it's fine if we talk to Butch about the situation. Rona is fine too, but it's still not an issue to change your name now. I'll be thinking about it along the way, so let's discuss and decide on it later on."

Elmyra mentioned that before she came back, no matter who might come over, be it even though it's Rodin, she was not to open the door or to give a reply. She then left the house. Aerith thought they were like the mother squirrel and the child squirrel she saw in picture books. She recalled the fate of these squirrels and hurriedly ran upstairs.

She intended to think about her name right away. However, she thought about Butch's wrinkles. She was surprised she thought about wanting to try touching it someday. She was also curious about Meguro's belly. What exactly did he stuff in there? Is it soft? Is it hard? Rona is also probably a big child, isn't she? Even if she changed her name, she had already introduced herself to Butch as "Rona", would problems not arise? If Meguro knows about this, would he be angry? She wondered how Rona would react to it too. How is Rona as a child? When will it be the day that she meets Rona? Will she get along with her?

As she thought about those things ― and she dozed off numerous times ― evening came. There was the sound of the door opening, and Elmyra cheerfully called out, "Come down."

There's good news, was it!?

Aerith noisily ran downstairs to welcome Elmyra, who was holding a paper bag with both hands.

"Welcome home!"

"Yes, I'm back."

"Welcome home~!"

"Alright, that's enough," Elmyra laughed as she placed the paper bag onto the table. When Aerith looked into it, she found lots of vegetables and fruits that she had never seen. "The vegetables were cheap today, so I brought home lots of them. It's been a while since I hung around at the market. What did you do today?"

"I thought about Rona, about what kind of kid she is."

“She’s a good kid. You’ll also have a chance to meet her in this house.”

After that, Aerith also asked questions about Rona. Elmyra listened with her back facing her, and she replied while starting to put away the vegetables in the food storage area in the fridge. She already stopped smiling. Her voice was also no longer lively. It was because Clay also didn't come back today.

The doorbell rang.

"It's Rodin."

Aerith felt a sense of relief. Elmyra probably did too.

Rodin was a young man around 20-years old. He was tall and slender and had big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.

"Hello," Rodin gave Elmyra a small greeting.

He noticed Aerith right away.

"Hey, Rona. Nice to meet you. I'm Rodin, one of the third in charge."

After Aerith was called ‘Rona’, she flinched. He opened the bag he slung on his shoulders, and held out a thin book.

"Nice to meet you. Here's something I brought from Butch."

"Thank you."

On the cover of the book that she received, the words 'Let's play with letters' was printed in large font. Without thinking, she swelled up her cheeks. That book, which gathered the characters Midgar uses, was the same study book that she was assigned to study in the Shinra Building.

"Eh? Don't you like it? Butch chose it, but... That man, he cares about this kind of stuff more than you would think, so I'll keep this a secret."

"I'm happy about the book. But I thought I had to study."

"Is that so? Well, you're the same as me then. I'm also bad at studying. I'm pretty okay with reading, but writing... Especially Kanji, it'll be good if it doesn't exist."

"Rodin, don't tell her such weird things. Well... Rona. Read the book upstairs. We have to talk about business."

After replying as vibrantly as possible, she went to the second floor, looking like she was escaping. She felt uneasy every time she was addressed as Rona.

After Rodin went off, Elmyra apologised for not coming up with a good name and not taking the time to talk with her about it before Rodin came. And then...

"What do you think about the name 'Rona'? Do you like it?"

"Yes. I like it."

"Well then, shall we go with that?"

"Okay."

↞↠

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[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 20

20/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.7k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

I now present to you a chapter that is filled with more angst than Chris Carter could ever dream of, and for that, I am truly sorry. 

Scully and Mulder's foray into domesticity with Emily is interrupted by the past catching up to them. Faced with despair, they cling even tighter to each other.

--------------------------------

Scully is granted maternity leave, though it’s only for two weeks, which Missy let her know is “a piss-poor bargain.” And she knows this is true, but she also has more incentive to stay at her job than ever, so she’d like not to lose it. The fact that advocating for herself and her child would mean risking her job is a mess in itself, but one lone woman can’t be expected to take down the patriarchy, and besides, she’s already tried and failed. 

As for she and Mulder, they hide their flirtation in plain sight. Mulder’s perpetually present in body or spirit, but his behavior never reveals anything more than it did before. Every morning he swings by to say hi, brings Scully coffee and a bagel with full-fat cream cheese, and checks if Emily’s picked up any new words. Personally, he’s working on “alien” and if you ask him, she’ll get it soon. She knows that it refers to her UFO stuffie, so sounding out the letters can’t be far behind, much to her mother’s dismay.

On Wednesday of the first week, he shows up at 6pm with takeout carbonara from a local Italian joint. His presence makes every Scully girl happy, but it makes one in particular the happiest, and Melissa realizes that there are definitely things her sister has failed to mention. She doesn’t question it, but watches with glee as the situation unfolds. 

After that first night, Mulder keeps coming back with dinner and refuses to let either sister shoulder the cost. On Friday, he stays for a movie too and gets to participate in Emily’s nightly tucking-in ritual (a tickle on the left foot, a tickle on the right foot, and a big smooch on the forehead). 

Saturday afternoon, he joins them for a stroller push through the park, earning some serious side-eye from Scully when he suggests that they stop at the playground because, according to the mama bear, “Em can only take six steps at a time, Mulder.” So instead they buy hotdogs from a vendor and eat them on a bench, Emily sandwiched between her mother, her aunt, and her...Mulder. They couldn’t ask for more.

That night, Mulder hangs around after dinner because what else is he gonna do? Go home and watch old baseball games until he falls asleep? A new leaf has been offered to him, and he’s gotta turn it. 

He’s baffled when, upon announcing that it’s Emily’s bathtime, Scully goes to the kitchen and switches on the sink. 

Scully raises an eyebrow at him. “What, your mother never washed you in the sink when you were a baby?” 

“Not that I know of...I have a hard time envisioning myself ever fitting in a sink.”

Scully scoffs. “I forget. You were a Vineyard boy.” 

Before he can come up with a smart response to that (as if there actually is one), Missy pipes up. “Oh, I bet you were the kid that took baths with your mother,” she teases. “Care to confirm or deny?”

“If I did I blocked it out of memory, thank god,” he testifies. 

Having spread a towel on the counter, Scully strips Emily down and perches the girl on her hip. She sticks her hand under the faucet. 

“That’s not too hot, do you think?” she asks Missy, who tests it as well.

“That should be fine.”

Mulder joins in too, and immediately regrets it. He shrinks away from the water, shaking droplets all over the room. “Jesus, Scully! Are you trying to boil her?”

“Babies lose heat quickly because of their body surface to weight ratio,” she says matter-of-factly. “They’re more susceptible to the cold.”

“I think the cold will be the least of her worries,” Mulder quips.

“If you really think it’s too hot, I’ll turn it down…” There’s a concerned crease beneath her eyes, and it makes Mulder feel bad about his joking.

“No, no, you know what you’re doing,” he assures her. “You’re her mother.”

As she lowers Em into the sink, Scully’s heart twinges. Her. A mother. How many times will she have to hear this before it stops feeling like news to her? 

One week and bathtime has already become routine. Missy fills a plastic cup and pours it gently over her niece, the water cascading down Em like she is nature’s own. Scully soaps her palms, then glides over her daughter’s skin with such care that its memory may blight any future affection Em is graced with. And then another waterfall, and the gentle brush of a wash cloth against eyes and nose. 

Scully squeezes a penny’s worth of baby shampoo into her hand, looks to Mulder. “Come on, get in here. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” she says with a smirk.

He smirks back and shakes his head as she lifts his open palm and shrinks her accumulation to a dime. “Although, technically I am getting my hands cleaner…”

She boops him right on the nose with a shampooed finger. He laughs.

Missy smiles. Oh, to see destiny play out right in front of you. “Someone’s cracking dad jokes,” she points out, unable to resist. This observation is much too on-the-nose for the pair (quite literally for Mulder), who simultaneously blush but say nothing.

Mulder wipes the shampoo from his nose and plants it on Emily’s head, joining his partner in making soapy circles over the girl’s tuft of strawberry hair. Scully’s full attention is directed toward her daughter. As soon as the lather is sufficient, she dons the lifted lilt of motherhood. “Okay, time to rinse! Missy, will you do the honors?”

Missy turns the faucet, fills the cup, and lets it flow over Emily. Mulder and Scully wash their hands off in the stream. 

And as Scully leans for the towel, a splash of red dirties its fresh white surface. Mulder notices it first. He points at his partner’s porcelain face. “Scully, you’re bleeding.”

Her hand shoots to her nose. Sure enough, it stains her fingers. “Shit.” She turns away, goes for a tissue. “I haven’t had nosebleeds since I was fourteen,” she tells them, as if that invalidates this one. She wipes away a glob of blood, her stomach turning. “Missy--” her voice shakes involuntarily, “--will you dry Em off?”

“Uh-huh.” She nudges Mulder. “Will you grab a new towel from the linen closet?” she whispers, not wanting to further upset her sister.

Mulder goes off without a word, and Missy squeezes out Em’s hair as best she can. “What a pretty girl!” she gushes. “All clean!”

“Yee!” Emily throws her little fists in the air, injecting joy back into the room. 

“Time to put your PJs on, and get a tickle, tickle, smooch.”

Mulder scrambles back in with a new towel, skirting around Scully, who remains occupied with her own situation. He slides the soiled towel away and helps Missy swaddle Em. Mulder ruffles the little girl’s hair, and she laughs like a music box. 

“Mol-dy.” She spits it out in halves, as if she’s been rehearsing. 

Mulder’s eyes water with recognition. “Mulder? Mul-der? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Moldy,” the girl declares again, certain of herself.

Missy adjusts Em on her hip, smiles at Mulder. “Looks like you’re Moldy now.”

Mulder bites his lip to hide his overwhelming delight. “Yeah, I...I never thought I'd be so happy to be called moldy.”

Next thing he knows, Scully is at his shoulder with a tissue stuffed up her nostrils. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Em called me Moldy,” he tells her, full of satisfaction.

“Oh.” It comes out relatively unimpressed, but really, she’s just distracted. “Missy, will you get a diaper on her before there’s an accident? I would but I’m still--” She gestures to her nose. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Missy smiles at the baby in her arms. “PJ time, Em!” They go off toward the bedroom, a happy pair.

As soon as Em is out of sight, Mulder spirals toward his partner, panic-stricken. The glee of moments ago has evaporated. 

“Are you okay?” He touches her hair, shoulders, and the familiar small of her back, unsure of where he should land. 

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Her grip on his elbows--keeping his hands firmly placed on her waistline--suggests otherwise. 

“You’ve got to see a doctor,” he pleads. “This could be...”

“This could be what, Mulder?” The steel in her blue eyes is a death grip. She’s never liked being told the obvious. 

“Scully…” He sighs, rubs his neck, wills her to say what they both know. When she doesn’t, he takes his hands off her and wrings them together. “The Mufon women...they said it would happen to all of them eventually.” He’s careful not to lump Scully in with their group. 

“And what do they know?” she retorts. “One of them was sick. One.”

“Okay, well, don’t you think it’s better to be safe than sorry?” he reasons. “You have Emily to look out for now.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Don’t guilt trip me. It’s a nosebleed. Those happen all the time for completely benign reasons.”

“Yeah, but they don’t happen to you. You just said--you haven’t had one since you were fourteen.”

She clenches her jaw. He’s right, and she’s playing the fool. His position is the one she would take if this were anyone other than herself. She’s gonna have to lose this fight with as much grace as possible.

“Fine. I’ll get it checked out, but they’re gonna think I’m insane for coming in because of one nosebleed.”

“That’s a nice change of pace--you being the insane one for once.”

“Well, you’re the one who wants me to go, so you’re not out of the woods.”

“Good, I’ve finally got some company!”

Scully smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, yes you do.”

--------------------------------------

It happens very quickly, as most calamities of life can be said to. This gives it the unreal quality of a nightmare that might soon be woken up from, if there is any justice in the world.

Scully snags a doctor’s appointment for three days after the initial nosebleed. By the time she walks into the waiting room, one nosebleed has quadrupled into four, and her minor concern has snowballed into abject terror. 

Margaret Scully drove into the city to watch Emily so Missy could join her sister. Scully insisted that she would go alone, but Missy wouldn’t accept this. She threatened to tell Mulder the details of the appointment if Dana didn’t let her go, and that was enough to earn her a spot in the passenger seat. Scully can’t take the thought of Mulder witnessing the worst--let alone her reaction to the worst. 

And so it goes something like this: they are taken to an exam room, at which point Scully explains her situation to a nurse, including that she has recently learned she is at high risk for cancer. The nurse assures her that such a diagnosis is highly unlikely, but makes a note for the doctor. The doctor comes in with knitted eyebrows and listens to Scully describe the aftermath of her abduction experience with a heavy emphasis on the convoluted but substantial claims of the Mufon women. She asks if Scully has had any other symptoms, to which Scully replies that it’s hard to tell because she has an infant in the house and thus, a marked lack of sleep. 

The doctor laughs, but it’s not a haha laugh, more of an I feel your pain. She agrees that the women’s claims are concerning, but tells her patient not to fret. They’ll take all the precautions, run any test that might assuage her worries. There’s a quip about how it’ll be on the government’s dime since it covers Scully’s insurance, and then the doctor leaves to order an MRI. 

A full body MRI, which Scully has never had, and which she hoped she would never require. There’s no deeper sickness than one that cannot be pinpointed, and no greater fear than of the unknown turning into the worst case scenario. 

The MRI is completed that same day. As she slides into the machine, Scully thinks of Betsy Hagopian and wonders how she’s doing. It has been many months since she stood outside an exam room and watched Betsy enter one of these. Has fate been kind to her?

For a few minutes, her world is limited to the mere inches between her face and this life-saving yet life-ruining contraption. It is noisy and sometimes bright and altogether disorientating. She is glad when it’s over. 

The images return almost immediately, and maybe it would all have been okay if Scully weren’t trained in radiology herself, if she wasn’t able to recognize the glaring speck of light in her nasal cavity for what it is. But that one glance is all she needs to know that waiting by the phone isn’t an option. 

“It’s a tumor, isn’t it?” she blurts as the radiologist tries to escort her and Melissa from the room. “In the nasal cavity. I have a M.D. I saw.”

“Your doctor will call with the results,” the radiologist insists, standing by the open doorway.

“No, no, you can’t do this to me,” Scully sputters. “I know what I saw, and I don’t have any time to waste.” Her eye twitches in a combination of stress and anger. “I have an infant daughter.”

The radiologist sighs, pity on top of pity. “Perhaps your doctor will talk it through with you now.”

“Yes. Please.”

And it is talked through, though there’s no need to make it complicated: nasopharyngeal carcinoma. Inoperable, and just barely in the realm of treatable. That’s the kicker, the coyote in the pasture, the cloud covering the sun. In the words of Scully’s doctor, it is auspiciously rare. And in Scully’s brain, it is the bottom she’s been expecting to drop out from under since she held her daughter in her arms.

Melissa drives home. The sisters cannot fathom how they will tell their mother. Cannot fathom ruining her blissful time with the granddaughter she’s just met. When they turn onto their street, Scully swallows hard and coughs on her own spit. “Will you do something for me?” 

Missy looks over, eager to do anything she can, yet terrified by the possibility of the request.

“Will you take me to Mulder’s?” Scully mumbles. “I would just take the car but...I can’t face mom right now. I don’t want to risk it.”

Missy bites her lip. “And what am I supposed to tell mom when she asks where you are?”

“The truth,” Scully says curtly. “She doesn’t need the backstory.”

Missy drives past their building, though she’s not completely sold on her sister’s reasoning. “Don’t you think she might wonder why you aren’t coming home to your daughter?”

“I know she’ll wonder, Melissa, I know all of this,” Scully snaps because she needs to. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Missy’s voice is barely perceptible. I don’t care; she knows how low her sister has to be to say those words. 

They complete the drive in silence, Scully biting her nails--a habit which she has never possessed, and perhaps just acquired. The car idles as Missy pulls up to the curb of Mulder’s building. 

“I can pick you up when you need it,” she tells her sister as she pulls herself out of the car. “I’ll bring Em.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Scully says, closing the passenger door and edging toward the building. Missy hears a thanks float toward the car, then her sister is gone like a teenage girl embarrassed by her mother.

-------------------------------------

They sit on Mulder’s couch, muted. Words cannot fathom the injustice of this situation, nor can they suffice as empathy. Their hands are clasped together, a throughline of strength between them. This is what they need now; the most primitive language of all.

Scully’s watery eyes brush Mulder’s face. His own eyes, more pained than usual, look into hers. Without a word, she drapes an arm around her partner’s shoulders and scoots into his lap. He is surprised but not distressed. What else is left for them, now?

She is tiny, so tiny. And she is his. 

Their eyes meet once again, speaking in tongues. Scully nods, and then Mulder does too. This is it. This is it.

Permission granted at last, Scully’s lips travel to her partner’s jawline. The first time her lips have touched his body, and this is where they go. She is a constant box of wonders, a fortune he can never predict. Her lips are much like he has fantasized they would be: wondrously soft and silky, stroking him like they have always meant to be there. Yet he couldn’t have imagined the urgency with which they burrow into his skin. As if she’s making a mental map of his bone structure. He never expected that she would want him this much. 

His hands find her hips and grip the cotton of her shirt between his fingers. It is enough to tear her away from his flesh. Mission accomplished. His breath travels past her ear, hitting her neck. It is shallow and warm as he breathes her name. Her real name, the one her family calls her. She breathes his own back to him, like a bird responding to a mating call.

She feels his lips on her neck, wet and aching. It feels like God. This is the most blasphemous thought she has ever had. She throws her head back, exposing the whole of her skin to him. What is holiness, if not this moment?

He showers her in tattoo kisses, and she lets him, she lets him, she lets him. This is not just what she wants, but what she needs. No one will save her now, she knows this. So she has decided not to be saved. 

Her shirt ripples as he clutches it. “May I?” He is breathy, awe-struck. 

“Only if I can do the same.” Always about equality, his Scully is. He lifts his arms, lets her strip him first. He is fraught with the temptation to feel insecure, inadequate, but this is not about him--this is all for her. There is no time to dwell on this anyway. Scully takes in the sight, then puts her own arms up with a hint of impatience. He pulls her shirt over her head, and goosebumps adorn her as the air hits her bare stomach. 

It is unimaginable, the significance of this moment. All Mulder can do is keep going, lest the emotion hit him and he find himself blubbering all over her. His hands travel her body...it is slender and white, but so solid, so strong. Cartilage forming ligaments forming joints connecting bones. And her skin, stretching over her hips and framing it all. The masterpiece that is Dana Katherine Scully. 

He fears for the day she will cave in on herself. Already, one of his hands covers her whole rib cage. Right now he can cradle her body comfortably against his own, but the day will come when a single cautious touch will crush her, and his heart along with it. He wants her as she is now forever.

Seeing that he wants to pamper her, Scully lets herself be pampered. He showers the taut length of her collar bone in kisses. The vibration resonates throughout her bone structure, and already she can feel him in places she’s only fantasized about having him. He is going to heal me, she thinks. If anyone could heal her in any way, it would be him doing this. 

She shows her gratitude by kneading circles into his soft tissues, so tense from all their days chasing ghosts. The sinew relaxes beneath the pads of her fingers, and she feels like she has solved the most important X-File of all. 

Mulder traces his way along her spine. He has never touched her here, nor ever even fantasized about it, and there is an erotic tension--like a needle about to drop on a record--that neither one of them could have seen coming. Inevitably, his hands converge at the hooks of her bra. She arches her back in approval. He slides the hooks away from each other, and both of them feel the release. She shimmies off the garment before he can pull it out of the way. No secrets, not anymore.

Mulder didn’t expect to cry and is aware that most women wouldn’t take that as a positive sign, but seeing her, like this, knowing what they both know, tears feel like the least he could offer up. She is...beautiful is too weak a word to describe it. He needs to invent a new word to capture the essence of his emotions, the reverence with which he views her. He is not a religious man, but he will worship her until the end of time. 

He has known this, intuitively, for a while, and now he’s putting it into practice. He wants to do everything he can for her, give her everything she wants. Yet he doesn’t know how to, and this scares him. She has always slipped through his fingers, always turned on a dime just when he thought he figured her out. Tonight is no exception. How was he to know that he’d be on his couch with a half-naked Scully in his lap?

He fears the tears will offend her, so he nuzzles into her heartspace, his nose pressed against the heart that is--by the grace of that God she worships--still beating. His lips meet the plush of her left breast. 

Where does he go from here? The dusty routine he’s used with other women--the few who have given themselves to him or let him hand himself over--is not worthy enough for Scully. He could never touch Scully in the ways he’s touched the women before because she is not like the women before. There is no mere giving or taking here, no detached exchange of commodities or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. This is survival. They are symbiotically keeping each other alive.

A drop of water hits Scully’s skin, slides down the curvature of her breast. She shudders. A tear. That’s what it is, she realizes. Mulder is crying. It’s a baptism of unfortunate proportions. 

She cups her hand against his chin, tilts it up so his bleary eyes meet hers. She rests her forehead against his. “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She kisses each eye closed, his lids fluttering beneath her lips. “It’s okay.” 

His breathing steadies. He is quite certain that it is not okay, that it never will be, but he listens to her, lets himself pretend. 

Hands still on his chin, she careens their lips together. His mouth on hers; a godsend. They caress each other for a moment, then Scully opens wide, and Mulder does too. They are reflecting. 

If Scully could compress herself, pushing every particle of air out of her lungs and into his, she would. As a sort of thank you, for everything. For what he has done, what is doing, what he will do...She will never have to live without him. She knows this now, and it makes this easier. But he will have to live without her, and so she must make sure he gets the memories he needs to carry on. This is how grief works, she’s acquainted with it. These moments, these feelings, these bated breaths and tender touches, will be his survival mechanism for awhile. Until the day when he can throw them off and go on without her ghost. It will happen one day, and she will be glad that he made it. 

She feels him pressing against her stomach, which is certainly not where she wants him. “Fox…” Her hands hover above his belt. She unzips his fly first, her hand warm against him. He is dizzy with want as her fingers curl against his belt buckle, loosening it with confidence. In a sweeping gesture,  she pushes his jeans off his hips, exposing him. The thrill she feels, seeing him big and bare in front of her, is a new kind of livelihood. She’s overcome with the desire to take him in her mouth--and that has never, never been her first instinct. She ducks down, but he stops her.

“Dana, no. You.”

She doesn’t need to hear it twice. She sucks in a breath, arches her back, and slides onto him. Slowly, gasping as they go. 

“Am I hurting you?”

Scully shakes her head, lips parted. It has been nothing like this before...nothing so fulfilling. She crosses her ankles, binding them completely together at last. 

Unity triumphs against the self, their union abolishing the world’s insistence on the solitude of the individual. This is what it’s about, isn’t it? Being joined, not only in spirit, but in body? Knowing that whatever horrors are to come, he will feel them as she does. Her dwindling will be his too, her losses an equally empty space within him. 

She is teetering on the edge of something she can never come back from. She is not afraid. 

She careens her fingernails into his back as the pressure builds. If it doesn’t come to a head, she’ll die right here, she thinks. 

She barely registers the cathartic noises coming out of her, though they give Mulder great delight. He thought she would be quiet, and the fact that she’s not trying to hold anything in--after holding everything in for so goddamn long--is the most moving part of the experience. 

And they want this to go on forever, but they want the release. Mulder swivels his hips into her, bringing them both closer to climax. Scully curls against him. 

“I’m sorry,” she cries into his ear.

“What?” He nearly pulls out of her, fearing that she’s hurt. 

“No, no--” She scrambles to stay with him. “This--” she pants “--is so good.” She lowers her lips onto his as confirmation, then speaks into his open mouth. “I’m just sorry to be the one to go.”

He frames her ribcage, thumbs arching toward her belly button. “Fuck, honey...don’t say that, don’t even think that…”

They won’t linger on the choice of pet name, the tenderness with which it settles over her, nor the absolute devastation of her words. There is simply no time. 

Scully hides her face in his neck as the wave breaks over both of them. There is no world anymore, only the two of them on this couch. They have forsaken the physical realm, ascending to heaven in time with their heartbeats. 

Mulder understands then what his reciprocal means when she says she needs proof to believe. Now that he’s been there and felt it, he knows that heaven exists, and holy shit, what does that mean for the life he has lived and the time he has left? What did it mean for Samantha?...What will it mean for Scully?

They collapse into each other, a melted mass of skin and bone. Two becoming one, becoming two again. Mulder strokes the back of his partner’s head, presses his lips to her temple. Her chest rises against him in jagged breaths.

“You are the only proof I’ll ever need that this life is worth it,” he murmurs. “Just you.”

Scully looks up at him, tears running down her cheeks. He kisses them away and wraps his arms around her. “I don’t know if you got the memo, but I love you, Dana Scully.”

She rests her cheek against his. “I love you too, F--Mulder.”

Mulder chuckles, his amusement shaking both of them. Scully closes her eyes and snuggles into him. He puts his hand over her heart, feels it beating steadily into his palm, and longs for it to stay like that forever.

[homeformyheart]

Oohh 44 with Rosy plss? 💕

THANK YOU Soso for the request!! I love IvyRose and exploring Married Life (TM).

author’s note: thank you for the request, @sosolenoo! i wanted to feature korean terms of endearment and was inspired by several of the soft/private rosy asks from jo’s blog. shout-out to @mepheesto and @captainsaku, who helped me with some brainstorming. i’m still getting the hang of writing for these two, so this may not hit quite right but hope you all enjoy! copyright: all characters, except my oc button, are owned by jo o’connor @mindblindbard. series/pairing: mind blind – ambrose kim x f!button (ivy park wiseman) rating/warnings: 16+; married life/mature relationship based on/prompt: dialogue prompts // 44. “Cuddle me.” (in bold) word count: ~800 summary: ambrose is upset when he finds out that ivy skipped work for seemingly no reason.

ambrose diligently put his shoes away before stepping into the living room, leaving his briefcase and keys in their designated spots in the entryway.

“ivy?” he called out, his tone tense.

he paused despite the silence to unbutton his shirt meticulously. with each button undone, he mentally removed the stresses and worries from the day one by one from his body.

the one stressor he couldn’t leave behind in the entryway to their shared home was ivy herself, or rather a decision she made. it caused him both worry and stress – two things he had long since learned to manage separately as a survival tactic.

when the two combined, like they did today, it wreaked absolute havoc on his ability to control his emotions and he knew that, despite his best efforts, he probably took some of that out on his students.

ivy had skipped work that day without telling him. he had to find out from alavidze that she had called in sick and it was an understatement to say that he was upset. there was no justifiable reason for his wife to skip out on a job that she normally took very seriously when he also knew for a fact that she. was. not. sick.

she seemed fine in the morning when they left for work. he had gone straight to his class while she headed to her office per their routine. she had been quieter than usual during their commute but chalked it up to being a bit overloaded with work lately.

he had resolved to help her unwind tonight, even planning to pick up some cheese and a bottle of her favorite wine on his way home. but here he was now, emptyhanded, standing in the threshold of their bedroom and staring at the large lump in their bed.

any remaining feelings of irritation vanished as soon as he took in her hunched figure buried underneath their duvet.

ivy’s entire body had tensed once she realized ambrose was home. she was fully expecting an angry rosy lecture, complete with perfectly valid points about not running from her responsibilities just because she didn’t feel like it. she knew he’d be a bit more understanding once he knew exactly why she chose to ditch work for the day.

but she figured she’d still have to get through the lecture first.

“yeobo?”

dear wife, look at me.

it was a term reserved for each other, in the privacy of their home. as natural as the air they breathed and the sound of her name on his tongue.

as fateful as his heart in her hands.

ambrose was not known as a soft man to most, but ivy knew no other man besides her husband when he said her name. dear wife.

her shoulders sagged with relief before she remembered why she had disappeared for the day and didn’t even bother to tell him where she was.

“i don’t want to talk about it yet,” she said quietly, closing her eyes. “cuddle me.”

she couldn’t see the conflict between worry and fear in ambrose’s eyes as he lifted the duvet and climbed in beside her, bringing his warm body flush against her back and wrapping his arm around her stomach.

ivy squeezed her eyes tighter at the feel of him around her, his hand on her stomach sending a wave of emotion through her body.

“i’m pregnant,” she finally said quietly, pausing for a beat before twisting in his arms and willing herself to look him in the eye.

ambrose was not a man of many facial expressions. but she had learned how to read him and his little tells. the slight upward furrow of his brow indicating he was overwhelmed and processing. the widening of his dark pupils taking her in and reinforcing his absolute adoration for her. the pressing of the corner of his lips together letting her know he was trying to find the right words.

so she wasn’t surprised when tears started pooling in his eyes and falling down his face instead.

“i know we said we’d wait a while,” she said, wiping his tears with her thumb. “say something.”

he just leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, taking a few deep breaths until the tears stopped. she tilted his head back until she could see herself in his eyes, see the way he breathed her in with just a glance.

ivy gave him a small smile, her goofy one, reserved just for him. “jagiya?”

you are me and i am you.

“i love you,” he murmured, the intensity of his voice contrasting with the softness of his tone.

“i love you too,” she said, letting herself finally express the joy on her face. “you’re going to be my eigi appa.”

ambrose was done with words. he captured her lips with his with an intensity she had never experienced before, and she knew this was just another beginning.

* * * * * *yeobo – Korean term of endearment used exclusively between married couples

*jagiya – Korean term of endearment usually used pre-marriage and is seen as more “cutesy”

*eigi appa – Korean term of endearment used to refer to spouses once there’s a child ([baby’s] father in this case)

from these dialogue prompts (always accepting)

* * * * * taglist: @anotherbeingsworld; @sosolenoo; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots;

[dickgrayson-is-a-dad]

Dick Grayson x pregnant!reader

Part three! Part four!

Warnings: throwing up, Braxton Hicks contractions (which are also referred to as practice contractions),

~ never let it be said that Dick Grayson is not an emotional man.

~ you hit the 35 week mark and he can see the baby moving and feel the baby kicking and he’s so excited he just wants to meet the kid you’ve both waited so long for.

~ he knows you’re excited too, that you’re in a lot of pain, so he tries not to complain or whine about it too much.

~ (he calls Wally or Bruce after you’re asleep and very quietly errs his grievances)

~ he also tries very hard not to start panicking as your due date grows ever closer.

~ he only kind of succeeds.

~ he is no more than shouting distance away at all times. If you need literally anything or seem to be in any sort of discomfort he will go to you and he will help you in any way he can (and then he is within arms’ length for at least an hour.)

~ if you weren’t so tired you would be annoyed.

~ when practice contractions start he’s in the cave sparring (you would never have gotten him down there if Jason hadn’t quietly agreed to be there if something happened.)

~ you might panic a little bit.

~ Jason doesn’t even blink at your gasp (the baby’s kicks have been strong long enough that he knows it’s no indication of emergency), but your quiet “ow” is enough to snap his head up.

~ “are you okay?”

~ the pain is gone before he’s finished the question.

~ “I think so? It doesn’t hurt now”

~ he finds this barely acceptable and moves to the seat next to you.

~ when asked, Jason will adamantly deny giving you his hand to hold (another practice contraction doesn’t come, but that isn’t enough for Jason to deny you comfort.)

~ practice contractions become more and more common.

~ the first one Dick is there to witness lasts uncomfortably long.

~ he’s convinced it’s the real thing, but he trusts your judgement

~ Dick learns very quickly that Practice Contractions suck.

~ every time he hopes so much that it’s labor and you can get the pain over with and you can finally meet your baby.

~ he will never tell you this, but he is jealous that you can feel the baby all the time.

~ he cannot wait until he can hold his baby against his chest and rock them to sleep and feel their soft skin and lil hands and feet.

~ he knows you’re an adult and you can take care of yourself but just want to take care of you constantly and hold you and never let you go and he’s so clingy and at this point it’s making you even more ready for baby to come out.

~ you’re two weeks from full term with practice contractions happening on the daily when you tell Dick that you are absolutely fine to go to the manor.

~ you are tired and hurting and hungry, and the possibility of going into labor two hours from your planned place of birthing does nothing to satiate your desire for the joy your in-laws brings you.

~ from the start, nothing is normal to this visit. You’re twenty minutes away when Dick has to pull over for you to throw up. (That hasn’t happened since significantly earlier in your pregnancy and Dick is more than a little bit worried.)

~ you manage to convince him to keep going (you’re closer to the manor now than you are to your apartment)

~ (he drives with your hand in his, both resting over your swollen belly)

~ Dick is opening your door to help you out as he notices your eyes squeezed shut.

~ his brain starts running a million miles an hour.

~ he knows better than to play the guessing game. He takes your hand in his and lays the other over where you’re pressing against your belly.

~ Dick feels no hard kicking, and you’re not pressing against your stomach as you would for nausea.

~ he waits another moment and you’re breathing deeply and throwing your head against the back of the seat.

~ “that was a contraction.” There’s no question about it.

~ you nod. “A practice one.”

~ Dick bites back a sigh. “And you’re sure you don’t want to go home and relax?”

~ you chuckle, gripping his hand and standing up. “C’mon, big bird, we’ll be fine.”

~ Dick follows you inside.

~ it takes one look at Dick’s face to tell something is wrong.

~ Cass hugs you both and immediately frowns. She doesn’t even have to sign the words for you and Dick to hear the question.

~ Dick sighs a little bit and pulls her close, ruffling her hair. “We’re okay, Cassie.” You can't help but think he sounds exhausted.

~ everyone knows something’s off (detectives, gosh), but no one can quite tell what happened and they’re not sure they wanna ask.

~ the exhaustion radiating from you and your husband is palpable.

~ the family does their best to help.

~ (Alfred pauses in his cooking the second you and Dick enter the kitchen. He presses a kiss to each of your foreheads, giving you his firm I-love-you-and-I-know-something-is-wrong-and-you-can-talk-to-me look.

~ Jason, who’s helping Alfred in the kitchen, tells you both with concern in his eyes to go sit down.

~ Dick escorts you to the living room, where Damian and Tim are playing Cheese Viking while Duke cheers them on.

~ you sit on the far end of the couch and are immediately loved on by each of your boys. Damian moves from his seat to press against your side. He allows you to hug him close.

~ Tim reaches out from the other side of the couch and you meet him halfway. His fingers wrap around yours and it’s such a simple gesture but so sweet.

~ Duke comes around the couch and drapes a blanket over you, gently he presses his forehead against your crown.

~ it takes only a few minutes for Cass to come and sit at your feet, her head resting against your knee.

~ gosh you love these kids

~ Once you’re settled, Dick goes to find Bruce in his study (apparently working.)

~ He dramatically collapses onto the small couch.

~ Bruce raises his eyebrows, unimpressed by his eldest’s dramatics. He clicks his pen closed and fits the documents he was signing into their folder.

~ “something wrong?”

~ Dick sighs theatrically.

~ “I want to meet my baby now.”

~ Bruce softens. He joins his son on the couch moving Dick’s legs out of the way.

~ he held out his arm. Dick promptly flopped across his father’s lap.

~ “did something happen?”

~ Dick whined. like a child

~ he burrowed further into his father’s hold.

~ “Braxton Hicks is a jackass.”

~ Bruce’s laugh sounds throughout the manor.

~ Dick groans. “Really! She keeps having contractions and it hurts her so much but they’re always just practice and we’re so ready B.”

~ he sighs quietly. “I wanna meet my baby.”

~ Bruce rubs his shoulder, hugging him tighter. “You’ll meet them soon. You’re almost there.”

~ twenty minutes and one sleeping soon-to-be-father later, Bruce makes his way to the living room.

~ he hovers in the doorway, taking in the scene.

~ the boys have moved so you can lie down on the couch. Cass is perching on the arm of the couch, stroking your hair. Tim is still at the end of the couch, your feet in his lap, and Damian has taken the floor, directly in front of your belly.

~ You do not seem to be awake.

~ Bruce moves on to the kitchen.

~ Alfred and Jason seem to be waiting for dinner to bake. Bruce takes a seat at the island, knocking his shoulder against his second eldest’s.

~ Alfred smiles from where he stands.

~ “how are the soon to be parents?”

~ Bruce smirks. “Exhausted, anxious, and now asleep.”

~ Jason snorts. Alfred nods sharply.

~ “they will, undoubtedly, need the rest.”

[lovemesomesurveys]

Is it raining where you are? No.

Would you ever get a white phone? Yeah, I've had white phones.

What was the last board game you played? It was a trivia game.

What color is the floor in the room you’re in? Tan.

What color do you see the most of right now? I see blue and white plaid and red, white, and gray plaid-- my heated blanket being the blue one and my bedsheets being the red one.

Are you more hungry or thirsty right now? I'm kinda hungry, but it's almost 1AM and I'm trying to get back on a good sleep routine. I've also been having issues with solids lately.

Have you wasted any money lately? I bought some Easter arts and crafts and a cute little sugar cookie bunny house to decorate to give me something to. Some might see that as money wasted, but it brings me some joy then it's worth it to me.

How about lost any money? No.

What’s your favorite kind of tea? Peppermint, spearmint, and chamomile.

Would you rather go back to the 80’s and 90’s for a week? I'd love to go to the 90s and experience my childhood again. Damn, I miss those days even more than ever now.

If you could only wear one color of socks ever, what would you choose? I'd just stick with black.

What color hairties do you normally use? It's been since last summer since i cut my hair pixie cut short and needed a hairtie. It's way too short now.

Do you prefer mints or gum? Eh, I don't have either one anymore but in high school and college I pretty much always had gum.

Have you been sleeping well latly? No, and that's a big contributing factor.

Popsicles or fudgeicles? I only like the banana fudge fudgesicle.

When was the last time you made a sandwich? About a week ago.

Blush or bronzer? I don’t wear makeup anymore.

Is it more important to you to have your fingernails or toenails painted? It's been like 5 years since I've painted my nails, so clearly neither is important to me, but if I had to choose out of the two I'd pick fingernails. I never bothered with my toenails.

Would you rather your sheets be red or green? Well, like I said they're currently red, white, and gray plaid, sooo.

Have you bought any bracelets recently? Somewhat recently. This month as least.

What was the last reason you bought or recieved a card? For Valentine's Day for my mom.

How do you normally wear your hair? It's pixie cut short, so there's only like one way to style it. I normally just throw a beanie on if I'm going somewhere. Although, I have been just brushing it back lately.

Do you use a belt normally? Never.

What do you put on your hot dogs? Cheese, mustard, lots of mayo, ketchup, grilled onions, and pickles.

How about on your tacos? Beans, extra cheese, guac, and sour cream, and cilantro and onions.

Do you like watermelon? Sure. I couldn't tell ya the last time I had any, though.

What color is your favorite blanket? My white with dogs all over it heated blanket.

What day of the week is it? It's Thursday.

What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve done this week? Uh, nothing at all. I haven't even left the bed all week because I had yet another scare with the brain fog. :/

Would you prefer a brick house or a log cabin? Brick house. Having a log cabin for the winter would be nice, though.

Patio or porch? Is the porch covered? If so, porch. We’ve got a covered porch that allows me to comfortably sit outside and read even while raining, which I absolutely love to do in the summer. <<< I'd enjoy that.

Pool or trampoline? Pool. I'd just sit near it and chill.

Leggings or yoga pants? Leggings are all I ever wear now for pants when going somewhere.

Do you like b.l.t.s? Is this referring to the sandwich? If so, then no.

What was the last drink you ordered at a restaurant? Coke.

Have you went to a Burger King or McDonald’s more recently? McDonald's.

Do you remember your last dream? Nope. I like never remember my dreams.

Do you like going for car rides? I don't enjoy long car rides cause I get motion sickness.

Do you have a tree in your yard? Yes.

When was the last time you lit a candle? I don't light candles cause I'm a big scardy cat.

[blackberry-gingham]

Got to be honest... I love the mermaidau! theme too. Could you pls give us a pt2 cause I need to know how is their rlp gonna evolve. (Feel like even writing a hole 2k word fanfic with this au and im not ashamed 😂)

(Pst, anon is referring to this request!)

Mwaaaha yeeees... YEEEEES !!!! I'm so glad you guys like this au lmao 😂😂 All I have to say is, I hope y'all can come through with this mermaid au when summer hits, bc that's my JAM 😤

Even if I don't get another mermaid au request until then, like please y'all, I'm begging you lol

But anyways, tumblr has decided that doing all four on here is too long, so I’m posting half now and I’ll link Paul and Ringo before the day’s over! (Also bc I lost like half of Ringo's story last night, and I have to rewrite it, so rip :') ) Enjoy!

Paul and Ringo this way!

George

It's quite a bit before George can see you again

He had to take up a job, even with school, and practice, and family, and friends, and the occasional gig... just to save up

But when he finally got enough to buy that bike... It was all worth it

It's almost as prized a possession as his guitar, and the very next day after purchasing it, he loads up a blanket and some food and heads off for the lake

The ride from home to the water is a bit long, but nothing he can't handle

At long last, he arrives at the tiny pier and he can hardly contain himself as he sets the kickstand and grabs his things

He rushes down and sets up shop

In his excitement, George has forgotten to consider whether or not you'll even show...

But he doesn't want to give up yet

So he waits

And waits

And after a few hours pass by, he decides he might as well have his lunch instead of skipping rocks and wading in the water all afternoon

George swims over to the edge of the pier and clasps into the plank to hoist himself up

But before he can complete the maneuver, he finds himself jerked back down again

It's gentle enough that he doesn't get submerged, but it's certainly enough to give him a start

He splutters and flails a little, turning around as quick as he can to see...

Oh, it's you...

George breathes a sigh of relief, even as your eyes watch him from just above the water line, your hair floating on the surface like an angel

Your eyes go wide in excitement, and you peak your head all the way above the water, giving a soft gasp of surprise

"It is you! I can't believe you came back!"

George's heart hammers in his chest, whether it's from the surprise, the physical activity, or something else... He doesn't know

"O-of course I am! I said I would, didn't I?"

You laugh, "So you did! ...By the way, what have you got up there?"

George looks over his shoulder to the picnic basket that's clearly in view, then back at you

He waves you over and pulls himself up at last

When he's turned around, you've disappeared and George's heart drops

Well, not for long. A moment passes, followed by a huge splash as you jump from the water to the pier

It's not a perfect jump, as you need to pull yourself up a bit, but you make it well enough

George is halfway through unloading the basket, but he finds himself incredibly distracted by your tail

He doesn't mean to be rude it's just... It's almost like you weren't real before now

The tail is nearly twice the length that human legs would be. It tapers all the way down to a fine and delicate point that flares out into a transparent, forked fin

There are smaller fins like this along the rest of your tail, George notes, providing gorgeous accents to your shimmering iridescent scales

You swish your tail behind you, feeling a bit shy

George shakes himself out of his stupor, "Oh, sorry! I just... Wow"

You huff a laugh and mumble a thanks, not quite out of the awkwardness

"Um, here, I brought you something", George hands you a carefully wrapped sandwich

You give it a sniff and wait for George to taste his first

It tastes fantastic. Unlike anything you've ever had before

George tells you it's called a "ham and cheese"

Before you know it, the two of you jump into a whole conversation about life above and below water

You talk all afternoon and into the evening. George, doesn't even realize how low the sun's set until he takes a moment to stretch and look up

"Oh, I suppose you should be going..."

"Yeah..."

George looks at you and then the water one more time

It's like a pool of gold out there, the orange and yellow reflecting so beautifully on the water

"Say, how about one more swim?", George nods towards the water

Needless to say, you both race in for a last dip

You swim laps around George as he move slowly through the water, and you find yourself growing bored rather quick

"Ugh, here hold on!", You laugh and roll your eyes as you latch onto George from beneath

He doesn't protest, and you tow him easily back and forth through the water

It's not as fast as you could go, but it's faster then George has ever achieved on his own

It's actually great fun, but all things must end, and after a few rounds you glide to a stop surrounded by golden ripples

You sigh and look around, letting him go, "Sorry, it's late. I didn't mean to get so carried away..."

George wades just inches away from you, "No no, it's alright! I um, I had fun"

"Really?", You smile

"Really...", George floats a little closer to you, and you can feel his warm breath caress your hair, "In fact, m-maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..."

Before he even gives a thought to what he's doing George's lips meet yours halfway, pressing far softer then you'd expect from a rough teddy boy like himself

It's one of those kisses where you don't even have to think, or give subtle hints

Everything just feels right

Your heart does a flip when you separate, and George sticks by his promise

It gets to the point where you have a schedule to meet each other, getting the most out of your daylight hours

From now on, no more waiting

Just you, and him.

John

John's been visiting you for quite some time now, bringing you shiny things on occasion, but mostly just enjoying your company

You're on a first name basis and everything

It's strange almost, John feels quite special

After all, he might be the only lad in all of England to befriend a mermaid!

Although lately, he's been feeling... Different about you

He must be mad

But it's just...

You're so sweet, and kind, and you listen and understand him like no one else ever has before, an-

Ugh

He must be going mad

That would certainly explain why he's buying you a locket with his latest savings

It may be from a second hand store, but he knows you'll love it

The locket is shaped like a heart and made of brass

The metal is a bit tarnished but the small heart shaped ruby in the center is bright as ever

It's perfect

John takes it home and hides it away from Mimi

She doesn't know about you, but she has some suspicions about a girl...

That's certainly not something John wants to talk about, so he's trying to be as covert about you and him as possible

But before he can hand off his gift to you, he needs to sneak one of Mimi's pictures of him

She has a few up in the attic, which John is easily able to swipe and cut out to fit in your locket

There. Now it's perfect

John gets a good night's rest and heads out bright and early to your cove the very next day

He arrives to find you splayed out on a bed of shells and trinkets, sun bathing

"Hello birdy!"

You spring up and turn to face him, "Johnny!"

Patches of sand stick to your skin, shimmering like glitter in the sun

John whips off his leather jacket and shirt as he goes to sit beside you before removing his boots and socks as well

It's a bit of a custom for him ever since he started feeling comfortable around you

The beach is rather hot, yes, but more so, he likes that you make him feel confident enough to take all that off in the first place

You don't know this, but it's a huge sign of the trust he has in you

The two of you talk and catch up a bit on the few days you were apart

John tells you about school, and you about your adventures at sea

Both of you are equally fascinated about each other's worlds, and both wish a bit that they could live like the other does

You've offered to take John out to sea, but he's not to keen on wading that far out in the ocean

When the conversation starts to run dry, John remembers his gift at last

"Oh by the way, I brought you something..."

You perk up, not suspecting anything other then the usual shiny pebble or coin

But then again, John seems... Different

You could swear you see a blush climbing his cheeks

"I uh, saw this and thought of you...", He holds out an old, worn locket. The Ruby heart and tarnished brass flash and glint in the sunlight, mesmerizing you

You gasp softly, and reach for it slowly, as though you're dreaming

"Do you fancy it?", John asks nervously

"John, this is beautiful..."

You click the heart open and reveal a raggedly cut picture of John smirking back at you from behind a heart shaped lid of glass

You trace your finger along the picture's edge, a trance like glaze over your eyes

"I um, I thought maybe you could wear this one... You know, that way you could always have me with you when you go out to sea... Or... Something", John mumbles, wondering if he sounds even half as stupid as he thinks he does

He peaks over at you once, then twice as you look at it in silence

"It's alright, you don't have to-"

"Could you put it on me?"

John looks stunned, as though he's surprised you actually like his well thought out gift

"Uh, I- sure"

You hand him the necklace and turn

John lifts it over your head and lowers it slowly

The metal is warm from John's hands as it touches your skin, and John fastens the clasp in a jiffy

"There you are..."

You turn around again, eyes shining brightly with joy, the heart clasped in the palm of your hand

A knot forms in John's stomach, seeing you look so happy with him like that, and suddenly he feels sick

He has to say it

He knows be does

He has to tell you now, or it's going to kill him

And yet, if he does tell you, that might kill him too

"Ugh, I must be mad..."

You quirk an eyebrow, "Wha-?"

"I love you", John blurts it out as though it was tortured out of him

It's not very sweet, or romantic, or charming...

No, it's actually much more like he just spat on the sand and continued on

But you know John by now, and to you, it's more then enough

You put your hand over his and lean in to press a gentle kiss to his burning cheek

"I love you too Johnny"

John's breath hitches in his throat, and looks at you with a gaze he's never given any other woman in the world

"Really?" His voice is the barest of whispers

But you don't need to answer, John is already pulling you in for a kiss as he lays back on your small pile of treasure

It's not his first make out session, and it won't be his last

But with you? Right here, on the beach, in the warm sun, laying cozied up on his bare torso?

It's the one he remembers most, for all his life

[wasithard]

my self esteem is through the roof right now (thank you @vinylpaperclip​) i’m just gonna post the whole “australian!annabeth” fic here even though i think its wildly out of character based on the fact that annabeth is absolutely a self-insert for myself but who cares!!!!! 

in case it isnt clear footy = football and in this case is referring to the great game of rugby league. i apologise in advance for the ending which is just....a whole lot of cheese. enjoy!

She really did bring a footy jersey all the way with her to England, even though it was going to be seen by exactly zero other people as she watched the game by herself in her room.

But hey, it feels like home, and from the excited text she gets from her brothers in response to the photo she sends them of her in it lets her know that she made them smile, which makes it worth it.

They’re halfway into the first half, Blues up by 2, when her phone dings.

 Dumbass: are you around i’m bored

You: watching the footy you may join me but no talking this is important

Dumbass: if it’s australian football it’s not important but sure

When she opens the door for him a few minutes later Percy squints at her.

“Are you wearing a jersey? Did you bring a jersey all the way here?” He sounds incredulous.

“Gotta support the boys!” She says in reply, turning around and racing back to her bed and her laptop so she doesn’t miss anymore game time.

Annabeth hears Percy shut the door before he joins her, poking her in the side to get her to make room for him on the bed. She shuffles over and he settles in beside her, stretching an arm behind her as she sinks into his side.

“Oh, it’s rugby league. That’s acceptable at least.”

“What did you think I was watching?” She asks him, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I thought you were going to make me sit through your country’s sorry excuse for soccer.”

“You know what, I’m not even going to try and defend us on that one.”

He chuckles, “Good.”

They fall into a silence and Annabeth is wholly focused on the game. She fills Percy in on the importance of this game, the long, intense rivalry of the teams, who her favourite and least favourite players are. For his part, he seems to actually care, or does a good job of pretending.

At half time he raises his eyebrows, “This is actually pretty entertaining.”

“Well duh,” she says, turning to face him, “We’re world number 1s and this is an all-stars match.”

“I don’t know about world number ones,” he says. The smile on his face tells her he’s just trying to rile her up, but she can’t help herself.

“We literally won the World Cup last year.”

“Home ground advantage. Doesn’t count.”

She’s smiling as she shakes her head, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick to her lips for the briefest of seconds.

It sends butterflies shooting through her stomach, and she’s suddenly very much aware of all the places he’s touching her. She loves it, this game they’ve been playing for the past couple of weeks, dancing around each other. She only loves it, she thinks, because she knows he feels the same.

There’s no mystery about either of their feelings for each other, the question is only when they’ll crack and act on them.

Not right now, she thinks to herself, I haven’t waited this long for our first kiss not to be romantic.

She grabs a pillow from her other side and whacks his face with it, laughing at the exclamation she gets out of him.

He grabs her and smothers her with it. She manages to blindly locate his armpit and starts tickling him there. Maybe not the most graceful way of getting him off of her, but it works.

“Did you just tickle me?!”

“Yes and if you try to do it back I can’t promise that I won’t draw blood.” She states simply, getting up from the bed and walking to the kitchenette. “Hungry?” She asks.

“Surely you know the answer to that.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, “I’ve only got snacks. Do you want chips or bread?”

He rolls onto his back, his head hanging off the side of the bed as he watches her, “Will that bread have Vegemite on it?”

“You know it will!” Her voice is cheery from inside a cupboard as she brings out her 1kg tub of Vegemite.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you recognise the sheer deliciousness of Vegemite?” She says, passing him a plate with two slices of Vegemite-lathered bread as she returns to the bed.

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. I’m so glad you have taste, unlike everyone else in this country who thinks Marmite is edible.”

“It’s a gift.” He says, grinning through a mouthful of bread. She scrunches her nose in disgust and fetches her laptop from the end of her bed.

“Perfect timing,” she mutters as the game restarts for the second half. They settle into their comfortable silence again, the only sounds the voices of the commentators, their mouths chewing the bread and Annabeth’s occasional gasps and muttered curses.

He takes their plates when they’re done and puts them on the floor next to the bed. They rearrange themselves so that she’s leaning against him again and this time his arm rests around her waist, hand laying on her hip.

It starts as nothing, but at some point his hand finds his way under the thick, blue cotton of her jersey and onto the smooth warmth of her skin underneath.

She hears her own sharp intake of breath and wishes her body wouldn’t be so obvious about the effect Percy has on her. He sounds genuinely worried when he says, “Sorry, should I–”

“No! No, you’re fine.” She says, glancing at him in reassurance, “It’s nice.”

Nice, she thinks, ugh. But she refocuses on the game, his hand a weight burning into her side.

They sit a few more minutes until he rubs his thumb slowly upwards along her stomach, and Annabeth thinks she might die. Involuntarily, she inhales again.

She can hear a small smile in Percy’s voice when he asks, “You ok?”

She doesn’t trust her voice so she nods and hums the affirmative, but her breathing is shallow.

“Ok,” he says, and brings his head down to rest on her shoulder, lips brushing the top of her back. She fights the urge to tense her body in anticipation and instead turns on him. He jerks back in surprise.

“Actually, you’re being distracting. I’m going to need to you stop this until the game is over.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. “I’m distracting am I?”

“Yep,” she says, turning back around, “I already said it, not saying it again.”

“What about what I’m doing is distracting you, ‘Beth?” He asks, bringing his head back down to near her shoulder.

“I’m not talking about this while there’s a game on, unfortunately.”

“Ok I’ll just chill here then.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t do that either.”

“Should I leave then?”

“Nope.”

“Well…”

She huffs in frustration, “Percy!” She turns towards him, mouth open to berate him but the words get stuck in her throat at the way he is positively beaming at her. She hates him for it. She falls a little more in love with him for it.

She exhales, deflating. “Why now?” She asks.

He tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she turns her body so that she’s fully facing him now, the game momentarily forgotten. “Why now of all times to be so forward?”

She can see his brain thinking, oh ok so we’re actually talking about this now, as he blinks a few times. “Why not?”

She thinks about spitting some more banter about how she’s in the middle of a very important rugby game and it’s actually quite rude of him to interrupt her with this but decides instead to try and be honest, to let herself be vulnerable. Because if one thing has become clear to her over the months she’s been living in England, is that she can trust this man in front of her. He’s listened to her talk about architecture and Australian politics just as intently as he’s listened to her tell him about her parents and step-family and her attempts to start living a life for herself instead of a life to try and please the people around her.

Her voice is small when she responds. “Why me?” 

She’s staring at him with an openness that scares her a little bit, but she feels a bit better when she sees his entire body soften.

Percy’s gaze searches hers for a moment, the expression on his face as if he’s asking, are you joking? 

He shakes his head a little in disbelief, “Because, Annabeth, how could I know you and not be desperately in love with you?”

A sound falls out of her, like she’s released a weight she’s been holding for years. She hesitates for one last moment before both of her hands reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him close and capturing his lips with hers, because she has to. 

His words are ones she’s been wishing to hear for years, a suggestion of a romance she’s been blindly, naively hoping she’ll find one day. She kisses him with the force of twenty-two years of yearning for someone to see her and love her as she is; she kisses him with the relief of finally finding it.

His arms come around her and hug her closer to him and her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, pulling herself into his lap so that they are flush against each other. She’s not sure how long they’re kissing, but when she eventually pulls back they’re both out of breath. Her hair is hanging around them both like a curtain, enclosing them in their own world where they are totally lost in this moment, in each other. His eyes are sparkling up at her and there’s a beautiful redness to his cheeks that make his eyes shine even brighter. She brings her hands up to cup his face, thumbs tracing his cheeks, and he just stares and stares until she closes the space between them again with one more long, searing kiss. One that she feels deep in her belly.

He rolls them over so they’re lying next to each other on the bed when they break apart again, and she keeps one hand resting on his face as they just look at each other, entranced.

An eruption of cheers from the tinny laptop speakers snaps her out of her daze. She bolts upright and checks the score – it’s full time and the Blues have won the game. She shouts with joy, shuts the laptop and tosses it to the end of the bed before falling back down next to him.

“I guess I’ve won twice today.” She says, shuffling closer so that her nose brushes his.

“Well, congratulations,” He says, “What’s the prize?”

She smiles slowly, her lips taking time to break apart and expose her grinning teeth. His eyes follow the movement, and his soft exhale as her smile grows bigger fills her chest with a golden warmth.

“He’s right here,” is all she says before leaning in again.

[books-and-cookies]

i’m back on my bullshit

* so in an effort to pretend that this world isn’t going to shit, I’m reading Crave by Tracy Wolff, because 2020 is the year of Vampires Are Back, Baby™ and I intend to fully take advantage of that - hiss hiss motherfuckers

* anyway, this is apparently very heavily inspired by Twilight and oh my god, there’s a boarding school. Listen here, boarding schools make for WONDERFUL plot additions in books, even if the books are garbage. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules.

* I’m wondering if the vampires in this book are traditional ones, or I’m about to be served a portion of “omg, look how cOOL mmmmmyyyyy vamPIRES ARE”

* “I can’t imagine that this cold, foreign place will ever feel familiar to me” – lmao wait for the eye candy, brooding, overprotective vampire to show up

* the boarding school that is actually a goddamn castle is my favourite character in this book.

* aaahhhh this reads like peak 2013 YA bless us all

* GUYS LOOK AT THISSSSS IM CACKLINGGGGGG: “Skyscraper cheekbones. Full red lips. A jaw so sharp it could cut stone. Smooth, alabaster skin. And his eyes…a bottomless obsidian that see everything and show nothing, surrounded by the longest, most obscene lashes I’ve ever seen” – this description makes me so happy I swear to baby jesus; may we never outgrow early 2010s YA pls and thank you

* “that smirk says he knows exactly what kind of effect he’s having on me”; “the black jeans and T-shirt he’s wearing only emphasize his flat stomach and hard, well-defined biceps” – bless bless blessssss, bicePS AND ABS oh my pls stop before i lose myself and faint

* “obnoxious smirk or not—this boy is sexy af. A little wicked, a lot wild, and all dangerous” – please engrave this on my headstone thanks

* this entire book is quotable, I fucking swear

* oh he “hates” her and wants her to leave the school – I fucking…. *chef’s kiss*

* “instead, we stand there, frozen. Devasted. Connected in a way I can feel but can’t comprehend by our very separate horrors.” – girl, you met him like five minutes ago sdugAISgfisdgf guys this book is killing me and I’m 40 pages in what is thisssssssss

* oh my fuuuuuuuuuuckkkk: “But somehow the scar only emphasizes the danger, turning him from just another pretty boy with angelic looks into someone a million times more compelling. A fallen angel with a bad-boy vibe for miles…and a million stories to back that vibe up.” – going into a coma, pls don’t revive

* “this boy who frustrates and terrifies and excites me all at the same time” – you’ve literally known each other on this earth for less time that I need to finish eating a croissant shdgkaSgdkjSgdkSAG bury me with this book

* this school is full of brooding, muscly guys and I’m like hoW OLD ARE YOU ALL SUPPOSED TO BE LMAOOOOOO

* “I can’t help but wonder why the guy with ice in his veins makes my skin tingle and the one literally lending me his warmth leaves me cold” – twilight and Jacob are rolling in their graves

* everything in this book is dripping with cheese and clichés and tropes and I’m just squealing in joy because READING TRASH IS GOOD FOR YOUR SOUL

* so… 2 guys attack her at night literally out of the blue, there’s no explanation, while she’s out of bed lmao and Jaxon (omg I forgot to mention that THIS IS HIS NAME; dudebroooo who) sweeps in to save her and dispatch Brooding Justice™ and I’m just living FOR THIS BOOK

* oBsIdIaN gAzE

* “Then brings his thumb to his lips and—holding my gaze with his own—sticks his thumb in his mouth and slowly sucks off the blood. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen” – I am deceaaaaased hoy fuck

* tropes so far: beautiful girl who thinks she’s plain, brooding hot hero that pretends he’s Bad For Her™, hero likes to cock his eyebrow and smirk, girl gets attacked in some way and he swoops in to save her, tragic backstories, what is communication, supeRNATURAL things

* i am liVING FOR THIS BOOK

* there are all sorts of references to dragons, that make me think dragons will be part of the supernatural array of creatures that we are bound to meet in this book, but with like a Cool Twist™, like people that shapeshift as them or they spit out alcohol instead of fire or fuck knows what other fuckery

* fuck me, I think this is a school for different types of creatures, like vampires, werewolves, fairies, dragons. If this turns out to be true i shall feel shooketh; also, I’m wondering what our darling ingenue will turn out to be. Something super special and unique, probably, because snowflakeeeee

* what is with these books always taking the time to describe the clothes the characters are wearing – bitch I don’t know what a Gucci sweater looks like, do I look rich to you

* so much shady shit is happening around this girl and she’s more oblivious than a baby chicken

* to be continued – may I just add that this book is like 500 pages long and my only questions is why, pray tell, the fuck

[kumkaniudaku]

Parenthood

Do I owe you other content? Yes. Am I working on it? Yes. Are you gone also take this Daveed short. You bet your sweet ass you will. 

For those that are new here, the reader is black. They will always be black. Cause we black over this way. 

“Tiny Tyrant is finally asleep and I found the weed I lost. It was...in his pajama drawer? I don’t know how it got there.”

Your eyes flickered from the rim of your wine glass to Daveed just as he closed the bathroom door with his foot.

“Did you grab the good stuff?”

“Let’s see. I have,” Daveed’s hand took a dive into his t-shirt to retrieve the items in question. “Barbeque pringles from the top shelf, gummy bears from the drawer he can’t reach, and a hot pickle from the shady gas station downtown.”

“Ooh, babe, when I said treat me nice, I didn’t know you’d bring high quality contraband. You really love me.”

“Only the best for the best, mon amour.”

“That’s your Lafayette reference for the month. No more.”

“One more or no pickle for you.”

Your eyes followed the pendulum swing of the pickle as Daveed held it between his index and thumb.

“Okay, one more. Gimme!”

Laughing, Daveed dropped the prized package into your lap before taking his place on the closed toilet lid.  For a while, you sat in comfortable quietness, listening to the hot water run while he flicked his lighter a few times to get a flame. Your foot hung lazily off the edge of the empty bathtub, swinging in time to a song you’d made up in your head.

This was unofficial Mommy and Daddy time. An hour window to give in to vices and escape the demands of your rambunctious two year old.

Taking a long pull from the joint tucked between his lips, Daveed shook his head.

“This was not what I expected from 38,” he laughed. “Hiding from my kid in the bathroom while I sneak and smoke awful weed. I’m not even high. I’m just doing this for the motion at this point.”

“I don’t get drunk anymore. This red blend is 13 percent alcohol and I and ’m guzzling the shit like grape juice. You think my mother is proud?”

“Yeah, for sure. Absolutely.”

His quick response made both of you burst into laughter. When motion was detected on the baby monitor, you quickly motioned for Daveed to quiet down.

“Last week, I spent like, fuckin’, two hours trying to get him to sing his ABCs with the music. He cried and would not stop until I played the Savage remix. I can’t even get him to learn.”

“At least he stopped crying. We cried together when I couldn’t make grilled cheese without the cheese, per his instructions. Apparently toast is not the same thing.”

“Did he throw it?”

“Yep. Took the whole thing apart and launched it right into my face. I ate it.”

You hummed your response with your eyes closed as you slouched further into the tub. “We’re awesome parents, huh?”

“I think so? I don’t remember my dad being this bad at changing diapers two years in but, like, he also didn’t know how to Woah so we’re even.”

“You also don’t know how to Woah.”

Daveed shrugged and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Touché.”

Shaking your head, you quickly refused his offer of the joint and took a small sip instead. “My mama was coming home from 8 hours shifts, making home cooked meals, helping with homework and cleaning the house at 36. I’m lucky if my shirt is clean from day to day.”

“You look cute, though. Those plaid pajama shorts are a favorite of mine.”

“I was gonna tell you that I’m loving the shirtless days. Keep that up.”

“Ah, thank your son. He loves spilling apple juice on my shirt. Every morning. It’s become a fun little game we call ‘Ethan, Don’t Do That.’”

“And then he does it?”

“Every time. I don’t think I know the rules.”

Daveed looked over to you with hooded eyes and shook his head at the way you seemed to sink deeper into the tub. He couldn’t tell if it was inebriation or exhaustion that had you looking so tired, but he identified either way.

“It’s not all bad though,” he started, ashing his joint in the waste bin. “Last night, he gave me a hug and a kiss and said he loved me before bed. I couldn’t even say it back without crying.”

“You’re right.  After the Savage remix, he did his ABCs without my help. We have to work on LMNOP, but he’s two. Letters are hard.”

“We’ve got the best kid in the world,” Daveed added with a smile.

“And the cutest.”

“For fuckin’ sure! Niggas are not trynna have a cute-off with him and those big ass teeth. Easy money.”

“Mhmm. Easy.”

Your response came with a deep sigh that grabbed Daveed’s attention. A small smile tugged at his lips while he watched your chest rise and fall with your light snoring. He quickly put out his joint before finishing the contents of your glass and placing it on the corner of the sink.

“Fuck, that’s strong,” he cursed, gagging as the the liquid began to burn his chest. “C’mon, party’s over, sweetheart. Time for bed.”

“But I didn’t get to eat my pickle.”

“We’ll save it for when our pride and joy is banished from the house for three days.”

“Ooh does that mean we don’t have to have silent laundry room sex this weekend?”

“Oui Oui, mon ami.” As soon as the words were uttered, Daveed’s eyes grew wide. “No, that doesn’t count.”

“It absolutely counts. No more for the month.”

You watched Daveed roll his eyes and prepare to exit the bathroom while you leaned against the room’s threshold. Every bit of him was passed down to your son, from his loud laughter to the neverending bouncing to some song that only they could hear. It filled you with love and resurfaced your quiet desire to try again before the wedding.

Looking down at your phone, you smiled. “There’s about 30 minutes until nap time is over. Trynna meet me in the laundry room?”

“You gon’ put the washing machine on spin and do the thing?” Daveed used his index finger to show a swirling motion, his eyebrow raised curiously.

“Won’t know until you follow me.”

You made a show of strutting from the bathroom after leaving your shirt at the entrance. Baby monitor in tow, his heavy footsteps beat against the hardwood floor to catch up and lift you into the air on the way to the secret meeting spot.

The house dictator couldn’t stop all of the fun.

[bexo-tic]

Breath Play - Spencer Reid X Reader

Spencer Reid X Reader Slow Burn

Season 10 Episode 17

Word Count: 3234

 The sound of heels clicking overwhelms my senses. I can’t believe I’m here, in the BAU office. Sure, I’ve been here plenty of times during my childhood to visit my uncle, but this time I came to work. My heartbeat slows as I take in the familiar smell of coffee brewing. It’s almost nostalgic, reminding me of the times I’d surprise Uncle Aaron with a visit. My heart aches a little as I think of Aunt Haley, but I push the thoughts from my mind. This is my first day and I need everything to be perfect. 

“Y/N,” he smiles warmly as I peek my head into his office. I hadn’t seen Aaron since I left for college, I was too busy working on my degrees. We still called once a week, and that is why it didn’t feel forced or awkward to slide into conversation with him after 8 years.

“Well, everyone is at the table because we have a new case, I can introduce you there.” He leads me out of his office and into a small room filled with only a round table and a screen where the team waits. Their presence makes me nervous. They have all this experience with their job and probably only remember me as Aaron’s little niece if they remember me at all. 

“Team, we have a new intern, Y/N Y/L/N. She’s my niece on Haley’s side.” He clears his throat after mentioning her and I can tell he isn’t as over it as everyone would assume. “This is Derek Morgan, Kate Calahan, Jennifer Jereau, David Rossi, and Spencer Reid. And our Tech Analyst Penelope Garcia.”

“Save the pleasantries, Aaron. She knows me,” David says as he gets up to hug me. The smell of his cologne fills my lungs, but not in an overbearing way. He cups my face in his hands. “You’re all grown up; it’s hard to believe.”

“I don’t think I believe it yet either,” I laugh as I sit down and he goes back to his seat. 

“I hate to interrupt the joy, but we need to get to Wisconsin, also known as the lovely badger state, home of milk and cheese,” Penelope says. She goes into explaining the case and how the bodies of 3 women had been discovered as late as this morning. I tense my body to keep from shivering at the sight of their photos. 

That might be the part that always gets to me, seeing the photos of the victims happy and smiling. I can’t imagine their faces once they realized what was going to happen to them. I watch as they discuss the case, their energy, and ideas building off each other. It happens so smoothly and effortlessly like they aren’t talking about murders. But to them this is normal, maybe they’re a little desensitized to it. 

“Whether he knows the victims or not, he’s hit his stride and he’s not gonna take time to cool off. Wheels up in 30,” Aaron says, distracting me from my thoughts. I grab the “go bag” I left in my uncle’s office which is better described as a suitcase on the edge of exploding. It was my first trip and I didn’t know how long we’d stay so I panic-packed what was probably too much clothing. As I leave the office I bump into something hard. I look up and see Derek.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry. I didn’t even look and-” He holds up a hand to stop my rambling.

“It’s fine, it takes more than a suitcase to knock me down,” he says with a smile. I let out a relieved sigh and he continued talking.

“Rossi says you’re fresh out of college. What degrees do you have?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Psychology and a Masters in Criminal Justice.”

“And you’re how old?”

“26, I just took a lot of summer classes,” I shrug.

“Sounds a little like Reid,” he laughs. “Real smart guy, been here since he was 24. He graduated high school at 12.” I feel my jaw open and quickly try to close it. 

“That’s um- wow.” 

“Insane, I know. Let me help you get to the jet.”

“Yeah, thanks. I was going to ask my uncle where to go.”

“So is having Hotch as an uncle the same as having him as a boss?”

“Mm, I’d say yeah. He’s pretty reserved, but once you’ve known him long enough you can read him like a book. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, it’s more like he’s too busy thinking to remember to talk to you.”

“Sounds about right,” he chuckles. “Set your bag here and just through that door is the jet.”

“Oh, thanks again for showing me.”

“No problem, Y/N.” He walked onto the plane. It felt strange hearing him call me by my first name when everyone else was referred to by their last name. But maybe I was reading too much into it. It was my first day and we couldn’t have made a bond as he had with everyone else in the 5-minute walk to the jet. I took a deep breath to calm my thoughts and walked through the door.

Already they were discussing the case again. Hearing them bounce ideas off each other and analyze was almost comforting if you forgot they were talking about a murderer. Their dynamic was so in tune like they all held the same vibration. Part of me didn’t want to speak and mess up the flow of the conversation. 

“Alright Dave and Reid, go to the Medical Examiner with Em. Morgan and Kate go to the newest crime scene. JJ and I will interview friends and family at the station,” Aaron announced. My fingertips began to tingle with anticipation. This is happening! A part of me was excited to be here. I’d always admired my uncle when I was younger for putting away the bad guys and here I was beside him. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I tried desperately to calm down. It was my first case and I was determined not to mess this up. I didn’t want Aaron thinking I couldn’t handle this and sending me home, so I was determined to keep a calm demeanor. 

<<< >>>

“Cartilage around the windpipe was damaged, but the COD was actually a crushed trachea,” the examiner says as he leads us to the victims’ bodies. 

“I’m surprised Emma didn’t go into cardiac arrest before then,” Spencer says, looking back at me and David. I nod in agreement because I don’t have anything to counter with. I question why Aaron even sent me with them to the M.E. when I don’t have enough experience to be much help here.

“Nobody has sex for 6 straight hours, not even sting,” David says, pulling my attention back to the report. That’s where it should be. “Maybe he’s interacting with them beforehand.”

“Nonetheless, it’s an endurance test. He’d have to be in pretty great physical shape,” Spencer says. I try to form my own ideas as they talk, to just bring something to the table and not feel like I’m useless and watching from the sidelines. 

“Well, do you think strangulation is just the dispatching method, then?” David asks.

“Erotic asphyxiation,” I call from behind them. They both turn to look at me and I feel my heart move up my throat. “I mean, the bruising from repeated strangling and releasing is similar to that.”

“If that’s the case, isn't the pleasure usually all for the recipient?”

“Maybe not for him,” Spencer answers. “Cutting off his victim’s air supply might be how he satisfies his own urges.” 

I sigh, I might have just contributed something. I don't want them to think I can’t do anything to help. My eyes wander to the other victims. She has the same bruising as the other victim except her hair is blonde, Donna Rayburn. She almost looks like me, but her eyes are blue, not the dark brown I got from my dad. Noticing all our similarities makes me itch and I feel exposed. I jump when a hand touches my back.

“Hey, we’re heading back to discuss everything with the team,” David says. “Are you alright?”

I can feel Spencer’s eyes burning into me from behind, he’s not very good at acting like he isn’t listening to our conversation. I can’t help but wonder if he thinks I’m even qualified to be here; his intelligence is a little intimidating. He could probably profile circles around me.

“I’m fine, just nervous. First day jitters,” I smile in what I hope is a convincing way. David leads me to the car and I sit in the back on the way to the station. Looking out the window keeps me distracted and I let my mind wander. I wonder how the people who live here feel about the news. Everyone says “It could never happen here”, but somehow it always does.

“Six hours is a long time, especially late at night, for someone to be held and no one to hear anything,” Aaron says as David, Spencer and I make it to the table. Again they delved into a conversation trying to connect the victims. So far, the only thing they had in common was their interactions with the unsub. After what seemed like hours of discussion, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and got up to find coffee. 

I found my way to a small kitchen with two coffee pots in it. I grabbed a guest mug and poured in the steaming liquid, leaving enough room for the cream and sugar packets on the counter. A voice behind me makes me jump.

“Did you know Hawaii is the only state in the U.S. that grows coffee?” I turn and find Spencer standing there with his thermos in his hands.

“Um no?”

“Yeah, the ideal coffee growing conditions require high altitudes, rich soil, and tropical climates.”

“Do you start every conversation off with facts?” I ask with a laugh.

“Mostly,” he smiles. “Oh, and I wouldn’t drink that coffee if I were you. Hotch just said we’re heading back to the hotel and regrouping in the morning.” 

I checked the time on my phone, 11:33 PM. No wonder I was so tired, with the jet ride and busy day we had. The ride to the hotel felt like it lasted a few minutes, so I must have dozed off in the car. Aaron handed me the key to my room which I shared with JJ. I barely had time to shower before I fell asleep in the white sheets of the bed.

<<< >>>

I couldn’t believe the unsub killed again last night. I knew he would kill again, but it didn’t feel right that I hadn’t noticed. How did we all fall asleep so easily when the murderer we were trying to find had claimed a new victim? And here I was walking around Lynn Boyd’s house as everyone scurried around for evidence. I find my way into her bedroom.

“The bindings, the silk scarf, the rough sex. He’s using ‘Bare Reflections’ to choose his victims,” Rossi says. Finally, another step forward. Last night we concluded the unsub would be a married man, but it didn’t give us much to go off of. A call to Garcia would help us understand more.

‘If this book is mainstream, then his victim pool is large.”

“Garica, did any of the other victims besides Lynn own a copy?” JJ asks.

“Mary Healy had it on her tablet. Donna Rayburn checked it out from the library twice. Emma and Lynn both purchased copies locally.”

Although the book tied our victims together, who even knew how many other married women in the comfort zone owned the book as well. The list of possible targets would be too long to help us tie it back to the unsub.

“And- hey, a lot of the saucy texts are direct quotes from the book,” Garcia says. “Oh! Speaking of texts, I culled them from that he met Mary via message board, Donna at a coffee shop, Emma at the gym, and Lynn, he met Lynn using a fake profile on a discreet dating website for married people.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Rossi said, ending the call.

“Profile?” JJ asked. He nodded in response. The ride back to the station passed in a blink. Maybe it was the satisfaction I was feeling. My fingertips tingled because we were so close to finally catching this guy.

“Based on area demographics, we believe that we’re looking for a physically fit white male in his mid-30s to early 40s,” Aaron starts.

“He’s a homicidal dominant with an interest in role-play,” Callahan continues. They build off each other so smoothly, and the rest of the team keeps it going.

“We believe his charisma has allowed him to latch onto women who are interested in a popular erotic romance novel called ‘Bare Reflections’.”

“In it, a sheltered female teacher falls for a handsome mogul with a dark past who forces her into a submissive role.”

“Despite her initial worries, Amber Stone finds she can’t live without Carson Bare, warts and all.”

“We believe the unsub and his victims are consensually recreating a scenario from this book.”

“In that scene, Carson introduces Amber to BDSM by binding her to a bed as they have rough sex.”

“The unsub uses this role play to get his victims into a vulnerable position before his fantasy takes hold.”

”This has provided the unsub with a victim pool who have dropped their guard.” 

“His first victims were single, but his last two were married. This escalation indicates that he may be married himself and probably has a family.”

“This unsubs M.O. takes patience and caution, and is firmly rooted in a need-based desire, which means he won’t be stopping anytime soon. Thank you.” Aaron says, ending the profile presentation. I look back at the crime scene photos trying to piece together the puzzle. I notice Reid quickly skimming through the pages of “Bare Reflections”. 

“Are you even reading it?” I ask.

“I can read 20,000 words per minute, so yes.” He doesn't even have to look up when he responds.

“Robot,” I say under my breath as I roll my eyes, but from his smirk, I can tell he heard me.

“There’s not a single mention of erotic asphyxiation anywhere,” he says as Rossi and a detective approach us.

“It’s the unsub’s fetish then.” Rossi’s brows furrow. 

“He’s a charmer that knows that some people lose themselves in the moment and others stop at nothing to please their partners,” my thoughts come out loud as I walk towards them. “Somehow he makes his victims feel safe enough to abandon their hard limit.”

“What’s a hard limit?” the detective asks.

“It’s a common BDSM practice. Hard limits are anything that’s an automatic no-go. It differs by person and taste,” Rossi states.

“And a soft limit is an in which a submissive hesitates or places strict conditions on,” Reid pipes up.

“I had no idea that world had so many regulations. Where does he find somebody like-minded?”

“In “Bare Reflections”, Carson Bare takes Amber to an event called a munch.”

“Which is?”

“According to the book, it’s a social gathering for people interested in BDSM.”

“Where the heck do you find that?”

“We should call Garcia.” Reid nods at Rossi.

“I found one,” he says, showing his simple google search. While Rossi and Callahan go to the munch, the rest of us stay behind to go over the case files.

<<< >>>

“He knew crossing state lines would make it more difficult to link the crimes,” Aaron says about the three prostitute murders Garcia has just brought up. 

“That’s a very different cooling-off period. I wonder what was so special about those dates,” Detective Pierce questions. Reid grabs an expo marker and turns to the nearest board.

“First kills were in 2000, 2007, and then he went dormant until last year. What triggers him?” He writes all the dates on the board.

“Deaths in the family,” Aaron asks.

“He could keep losing jobs?”

“These are sex crimes so what interferes with sex drive? Children,” Callahan offers. “The addition of a child would disrupt even the happiest of couples.”

“More specifically the births,” Reid nods and you can see the gears in his head turning. “What if each of these kills corresponds to the births of the unsub’s own children?”

“Garcia, how many men in the hunting zone had a child in 2000?”

“16 and because I already know what the follow-up question is going to be, 5 had their second child 8 years ago, and two had their third last year.”

“Were either one of them busted for something like peeping or exposure?” I ask.

“Yes and no, there's a Patrick Jon Murphy. He’s a physical therapist, here’s the thing he was never actually arrested. I do have some sealed family court docs, though, that I’m about to unseal and learn … Oh, when he was 12, he witnessed his neighbor strangle his wife to death in a sex game gone bad.”

“Even though he was only a witness, that moment created a single event imprint on his love map and probably started his interest in breath play.”

“Is his wife interested in BDSM?”

“Uh, no, doesn’t look like it. The Murphy’s have been in and out of couple’s therapy for years.”

“The therapy roller coaster may have been due to intermittent periods of frustration then bliss surrounding the murders.”

“And his urges increase during periods of non-intimacy.”

“If the unsub’s trigger was the birth of his kids, why change the victimology and accelerate the kills now?” I ask.

“I think the guilt he’s felt has been alleviated by ‘Bare Reflections’, and the intense female interest in it has justified his impulses,” Reid answers. Our phones beep as Garcia sends us his address and we race out the door. His house isn’t even that far from the station, it’s crazy that he’s been under our noses the whole time. JJ and Reid come out of the house looking defeated.

“He’s at the nanny’s house, we’ve gotta move!” We don't even have time to buckle up before we're barreling down the road. When we arrive at the house I can see a girl standing at the front door. 

"You two take the front of the house, I'm going around back," Morgan declares. I can see him run after the unsub on foot as Callahan grabs the girl inside the house. That must be his daughter. The rest of us storm inside, clearing each room as we make our way through the house. Calls from upstairs lead us into the bedroom where we find a woman tied to her bed. Immediately we untie her as a medic comes in to check her out.

<<<   >>>

“So, how was your first case?” Aaron asks as he sits across from me on the jet.

“Um, intense,” I nod and he laughs. “But I really enjoyed helping solve it.”

“I knew you had it in you.” He squeezes my hand. “Want some coffee?”

“No thanks, I’m gonna try to sleep before we land.” I curl into my chair and try to let the tension release from my body as I fall asleep.