#making my ocs kiss before i fall asleep

[withleeknow]

lost cause.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, kinda angsty idk?; unedited bc we live just to suffer, erhm i don't think there's a lot of warnings here, open to interpretation if oc is depressed 🤔; basically “it's rotten work,” “not to me. not if it’s you,” + that one scene in nobody wants this (if you’ve watched the show you’ll know what i’m talking about) word count: 0.6k listen to 🎧: risk - gracie abrams

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

“i think i’m starting to hate myself again.”

your voice is casual when you say it, indifferent, nonchalant, as if you’re merely bringing up the weather or reading from a shopping list. you’re used to it by now — the fact that it comes and goes, that if there are highs then there must be lows too. that sometimes, there are no good days, just better ones.

you know minho hasn’t fallen asleep because you still feel him playing with your hair while you lay on his chest, his index finger twisting a lock around before letting it fall over your back. he doesn’t falter, not even once. no change in his calming breathing, no sign that he’s all too surprised by your sudden announcement. you suppose he’s used to it as much as you are.

he’s quiet for a while, like the night outside the comfort of your bedroom. the weather forecast warned you of thunderstorms, but everything remained still and safe. there wasn’t even a spark of lightning to be found.

when minho finally speaks, only a simple “okay,” comes out, followed by a question. “then i’ll love you more to make up for it. how much time do you need? couple weeks?”

you shake your head. “longer,” you say.

“couple months?”

a beat of silence. another shake. “longer.”

“couple years?” he asked. no hesitation. “couple decades?”

minho can’t see you from this position, but you can hear the sound of his heart. he’s steady and secure and you’re nothing more than a fickle flame that’s always on the verge of going out.

“you can’t handle it,” you tell him. “better to quit while you’re ahead.”

it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?

“i know what you’re doing, by the way. stop that.”

you pretend to ask, “what am i doing?”

before you know it, he’s already managed to flip the both of you over. he’s hovering over you with his forearms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in, chest to chest, and his hips pressed flush against yours.

“i told you i’m not going anywhere,” minho says, brushing some hair away from your face. “stop trying to get me to leave.”

you blink. he’s so close and oh so warm, so beautiful as he stares down at you, so patient and kind when you’re telling him that you need him to love the parts that even you can’t bring yourself to love.

your hands settle on his shoulders. “don’t blame me when you regret it.”

“i won’t regret it. not if it’s you.”

then he’s kissing you, soft and slow, and that’s when you finally hear the first roar of thunder that should’ve arrived hours ago. he kisses you like he was made for you — or you for him, you’re not really sure, but it can’t possibly matter that much.

“so?” minho prompts after he’s pulled away, “how long?”

his eyes are sparkling and you’re still a little dazed. lightheaded but you know that you’ll always love him the most, know that you’re pushing it, know that you’re asking for what many would never be willing to give. “what if i say i’ll need you for the rest of my life?”

his lips curl into a tender smile, one that he presses to your mouth once again. you taste devotion in the kiss, in the way one of his hands crosses the short distance to hold your face so delicately it makes your heart hurt.

“i’ll love you more for the rest of our lives then.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 30.10.2024]

[caramelkoo]

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

[servicpop]

How about ur ocs with a sensitive crybaby reader? In a way that reader is a cutie who would sniffle 'nd shiver if they did as much as brush against their perky nipples ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა The type who would sob when they're teased 4 far too long, 'nd probably would be crying during foreplay too !! Already so overwhelmed before the main course even starts :<

I luv ur ocs and ur writing so much. 'm giggling while kicking my feet while writing this, mwah mwah ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

— ♡

nonnie i luv the way u write its so cute >< anyway !

Adrien loves teasing , he could do foreplay for hours n hours. When you're busy , maybe making some dinner for him while parents are out , he'll slide his fingers underneath your shirt , up your tummy and circling your pink buds. He loves playing with your skin , he holds you so close when he starts to feel you shivering , trying to squirm out of his grasp but he keeps you pressed firmly against him so you can't escape. The tears admittedly make him feel a bit guilty but he knows thats just a way of you showing how much you like it ! He kisses the corners of your eyes to try and stop those tears but he keeps playing with your sensitive body so it never works in the end. After a few more tears he gives in , his heart can't take your crying face for too long. "You're pretty when you cry, did you know that?" He's definitely got a few polaroids of your crying face stuffed in his drawer.

Vallen doesn't let up. The moment he sees those tears he smiles a sickeningly sweet smile. With just the tip of his finger — a feather light touch — he continues to circle it along the head of your cock. It's already weeping with pre just like your pretty eyes. He doesn't wipe them away , he watches as they roll down your rosy cheeks and blurs up your vision. You're whining and it falls to deaf ears , he'll continue to tickle you with just his finger , pushing your hips back down everytime you try and push up against it. "You'll run out of tears if you keep crying baby," he'll coo , bringing his other hand up to gently caress your chest , rubbing along your perky nipples.

Cole feels bad immediately TT The moment he even sees tears bubble at your eyes he stops and cradles you in his arms. Apologies will spill out his mouth and he'll desperately wipe your tears away. Even if you tell him you just cry because it feels good , he can't bring himself to continue. "Sorry honey, please don't cry, y'know my heart can't take it" he just holds you , afraid to touch you incase you start crying again but after some reassurance he'll continue. He keeps your face pressed against his shoulder as he lets you sniffle , he's nuzzling your cheek at the same time while his fingers press deep inside of you. He's slow with his movements , pausing whenever he heard a louder sniffle.

Callahan does not care ( or at least he claims he doesn't ) He'd scold you for crying so easily when he's barely even touched you , telling you off when you sniffle and grab at his shoulders to ground yourself. "What happened to your tough guy personality two seconds ago?" He'd mutter , just loud enough so you can hear. He's rough , all the time. Fistfuls of your hair , he drowns out your sobbing into the pillow. Its practically stained with your tears by now. But when he's done and its time to clean up , he feels a pang of guilt shoot through his heart seeing your teary face. He bathes you , dresses you , brings you water and food afterwards. He holds you close , his hand pressed against the back of your head as he cards his fingers through your hair. He waits till you're asleep before apologising.

[faraway-archive]

Sleeping n' Fucking

Yan(ish)!Nerd x GN reader

Tw: cnc/dubcon, somnophilia, semi-degrading

AN; didn't proof read/edit and please welcome my nerd OC <3

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Your teacher has decided to do a partner project right before the school semester ends. Fortunately for you, you got a partner who you sorta know. You have seen him a couple of times outside of the classroom, but never really talked to him a lot. So you went and sat next to him.

"Hey, your name is Luka right?" "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you. Do you want to meet at my house to work on our project together?" "Yeah sure, that works." "Alright. See you then." "See you."

As soon as you finish the conversation, the class has ended and everyone left. Luka slowly followed you from behind. Avoiding your line of sight, he made sure that you made it safely to your next class. Classes went by and you were finally able to meet up with Luka again at the end of the day.

"Hey, hop into my car I'll drive us to my house." "Alright."

Once you arrive at his house, you follow him to his room and sit down on his bed. Looking around at the posters and decorations. While you were looking Luka left to make some snacks and tea. Of course, he added something to make you sleepy and drowsy. He is giggling inside as he anxiously mixes the drink and carefully brings it up back into his room.

"Hey, sorry for taking so long, here is your drink and some snacks." "Oh! Thanks."

You take the drink and slowly sip it. Luka sits next to you and pulls up the project requirements. Both of you threw ideas at each other to see what the project could be about to make sure it fit the criteria. After both of you agree on what to do, you start to feel sleepy and drowsy. Of course, Luka takes notice and his dick starts to harden. The more you fight to stay away the more obvious his bulge is. He carefully guides you to his pillow and watches you fall asleep as he turns his back to you, trying to pretend to work on the project. As he glances back at you after a couple of minutes, you have fully fallen asleep and groans as he watches you. Looking so peaceful and innocent. He feels slightly bad but he's tired of watching guys flirting and or talking to you so that guilt quickly washes away. Carefully taking off your clothes, giving petals of kisses as he removes each piece of clothing. Sighing at the beauty of your body. His dick keeps twitching and he finally undresses himself.

He aligns himself in front of your entrance and rubs his pre-cum all over your hole. Sighing and biting his lip as he slowly enters your hole. Holy shit it feels so good to him as your hole clenches onto his dick. Giving you kisses as he keeps slowly thrusting back and forth. It feels so good seeing how weak you are underneath him. After thrusting slowly he picks up the pace and starts going ham. Groaning as he hears you softly whimpering and moaning as he abuses your poor little hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. You like that huh? Being unable to defend yourself as I take your hole and training it to only love my cock, and only my cock. God, I love seeing you hopeless as I ram my cock into you. Oh, how I love seeing you and admiring you from afar. You have no idea how much I wanted you to myself. How I want you to whimper and moan for me, begging how good my cock is. God, I wish you were awake right now but I can't risk you screaming at me. Not yet at least. You will be with me. You will be mine."

He grabs your waist and slams you into him as he cums into your hole. Panting as he dumps his load into you and slowly pulls it out, watching his cum come out and puts on your undergarment. Taking his cock and carefully puts it into your mouth. Taking your head and slowly rock back and forth as you 'suck' his dick. Once he feels satisfied he cleans himself up and dresses you back to normal. Sighing at your beautiful and wrecked body wishing you were his.

AN; sorry that this ending was shitty </3

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part One

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, fluff, smut

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: this was originally planned as a one shot, but i’m indecisive as hell, so i guess we’ll see 👀. also, tiny reminder but this is my first time writing fan fiction/ smut, so please go easy on me guys 😭

Zoe can’t fathom a better way of spending her birthday, this is truly all she could ever ask for. While she’ll never understand how she got so lucky to have Roman in her life in the first place, words can’t even begin to describe what this man means to her. Zoe in no shape or form is a materialistic person, yet somehow every year Roman manages to go all out and spoil her with shit she doesn’t need, but is still extremely grateful for.

And while this amazing day of shopping and sightseeing in Colorado is coming to an end, she’s exhausted and more than excited to get back to the hotel and gain some energy back before going out to dinner. She try’s her absolute best to ignore the fact that her feet feel worn out and in immense pain, her pride won’t allow her to show it, so she decides to keep it to herself. Especially, since Roman’s know-it-all ass told her not to wear boots with heels in the first place, but, she hates being wrong and would rather die than give him that satisfaction.

The walk to the car felt fucking eternal, Zoe couldn’t help but to sigh in relief once she was finally able to sit down. After Roman cut on the engine, he took a minute to study her, letting out a small chuckle, “I know you’re in pain baby, you don’t gotta hide it.” She immediately shot a glare at him, and rolled her eyes, “I’m not in pain, just tired.”

“You sure about that?, because when you came out of the bathroom earlier, I could’ve sworn it looked like you were limping…”, he teased. Zoe’s mouth dropped, and she playfully slapped his shoulder.

“First of all, I wasn’t limping. I was just very inspired by that Katt Williams show we watched, and decided to practice my own pimp walk…”

He couldn’t help but to let out a loud chuckle and defeatedly threw his hands in the air, “Oh so that’s what we’re doing huh?” One of the many things that Roman loves about Zoe, is her sense of humor. No matter what mood he was in, or what he was going through, she never failed to make him laugh. Roman knew her stubborn ass was lying through her teeth, but it was her birthday after all, so he decided to let it go and let her have this win.

The drive back was over an hour long, and while the beginning of the car ride was full of conversation and laughter between the two, the heater made Zoe feel extremely warm and cozy, which ended in her falling asleep.

When they finally arrived to the hotel, Roman gently ran his fingers through her hair, swiping some behind her ear, hoping he would wake her up without startling her, “We’re here, baby.”

“Shit, I don’t even remember dozing off,” she muttered. Roman smiled at her and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I’m tired too, let’s go take a nap.” Damn this man knows the key to her heart, she will never deny herself an opportunity of taking a good ass nap.

They eventually make it back to their hotel room, and as they are about to unlock their door, the fucking hotel key card starts glitching again. After multiple failed attempts, and seeing red blinks over and over again, they eventually were able to get in.

The first thing Zoe does when she makes it in the suite, is kick her stupid ass boots off. There is nothing she wants more in this moment than getting out of this outfit. As she’s digging through the drawer trying to find some comfortable clothes to change into, she suddenly feels his warm chest press against her back. He slowly wraps his big arms around her waist, his tall frame now towering over her. She couldn’t help but to let out a soft moan when she felt his breath on her neck, his prickly beard making his was down her collarbone, his soft lips showering her with gentle kisses. Her knees were growing weaker by the second, but as good as this felt, she wanted to talk to him first.

“Thank you, Roman,” she says, and before he starts to tell her she doesn’t need to thank him, like he always does she rushes and cuts him off. “Even though you never listen to me when I say I don’t need anything, the effort you make truly means to the world to me. I just wish you’d let me do the same for you.”

Roman turns her around to face him, he uses his thumb and index finger to gently guide her face to look at him. “Zo, I don’t need anything , I just need you. I need you to understand that there is no me without you. As long as I have you, there ain’t shit else I’ll ever want, or need.”

Zoe knows how Roman feels about her, but it’s something about hearing him express it, that makes her tear up. She grabs his face, pulling him in by his beard and kisses him. “I love you, baby.” He puts his hand on the small of her back and presses her towards him. “I love you more, but we should go take this nap before your ass gets cranky.”

…………..

Zoe was the first to wake up, seeing he was still in a deep sleep, she decided to quietly step away and take off her makeup that she shouldn’t have slept with in the first place.

As soon as she stepped out the bathroom and glanced towards the bed, she saw he was awake. Roman looked at her and gave that mischievous ass grin he gives when he's about to be on demon time. “Come here,” he motioned her over with his fingers, his hair was now resting on his shoulders fully out of his bun. His voice was groggy as hell from just waking up, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit how extremely turned on she was.

She wasted no time and climbed on top of his hulking body, straddling him and almost immediately feeling his erection through the thin fabric of her pants. “Looks like someone is excited to me,” she chuckled. “Baby, i’m always excited to see you,” he whispered, while lightly squeezing her ass. She began to kiss his jaw and slowly made her way down to his neck, making a trail down his chest and abs. As she started to reach for the hemline of his boxers, he flipped her over so that he was now on top of her.

“Nah baby, let me take care of you,” he growled. Before she could protest, Roman got up, took off his shirt and walked towards the foot of the bed. This had her slightly confused, but before she could ask why he got up, he grabbed her by the thighs and slid her down to the edge of the bed. His fingers gripped the top of her pants and underwear, she watched him as he eagerly pulled them down. Propping herself on her elbows, she was now staring at his hair draped over his tan broad shoulders.

Roman’s warm breath over her exposed pussy, made her more soaked than she already was. He teased his finger up and down her wet lips, causing her to instantly moan. “Mmm, daddy please.” She started to grip the back of his head when he stuck two fingers in, her hips subconsciously bucking forward once he started to curl them towards her g spot.

“Please what, baby?,” he groaned and started to pick up the pace, her pussy already dripping and squelching for him. “mmm p-please eat my pussy,” she whimpered.

“Anything you want baby, doesn’t daddy always make you feel good?” Roman flattened his tongue on her needy clit, and started licking and sucking on her essence. “You taste so fucking good baby.” Her panting becomes heavier and heavier as he feasted on her, almost as if he was starving. The combination of him eating her out and fingering her while hitting that spot, had her on the edge of coming.

“f-fuck baby i’m gonna come.” Her pussy was clenching around his fingers, he could feel it. “Come for me, right on my tongue baby,” he used his free hand to grip her thigh and bring her even closer.

Zoe, felt like she was on another fucking planet. As he brung her even closer, she used her grip on his head and started to grind her pussy against his face. “Just like that baby, give it to me,” he moaned. She let out a loud scream as her orgasm took over, her body jerked as Roman kept devouring her pussy while she rode her orgasm out.

“Such a good girl, baby.” He made his way back on top of her, and gave her a sloppy sensual kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue, made her want to come all over again.

While Zoe was catching her breath, still recovering from her earth shattering orgasm, Roman got up and brung her a rag from the bathroom and helped her clean herself. She watched him, eyeing his God like physique that she’s convinced she’ll never get used to.

Roman stood up and kissed her temple, “I’m gonna be on the balcony for an hour or so baby, I’m behind some meetings, so I gotta go make some calls.”

“That’s okay, I have some emails I gotta catch up on too.” As Roman heads out the back door, Zoe goes to sit at the desk in the corner of the suite and starts to catch up on some work emails that she’s been ignoring. Not even 15 minutes in, and she’s already bored out of her mind. She closes her laptop and decides to do something productive. Other than actual work of course, because that’s obviously boring as hell.

Boom. An idea hits her. Zoe decides that she is going downstairs to talk to the hotel receptionist, and ask if they can do something about their annoying ass key card that barely fucking works. She starts by tearing the room apart looking everywhere she can think of. Roman was the last person that had it, and as much as she’d like to ask him, she knows she can’t bother him during his important meetings.

The first place she thinks to check is his wallet, when she sees it’s not there she moves on to the next spot, which was the drawers next to his side of the bed. Fail. Shits not there either, and after scrummaging around the whole suite for damn near twenty minutes, she was thinking of giving up. And that’s when her memory hits. His fucking duffle bag. Roman tends to work out twice a day, and lately he’s been making sure to put the key card in his duffle bag before he leaves, simply because his over dramatic self can’t seem to let go of that one time he forgot it, and Zoe had slept through his phone calls and loud ass knocks.

Zoe goes to grab the duffle bag from the closet and opens it, she unzips the small pouch in the inside and immediately spotted the key card, she couldn’t help but to let out a small sigh of relief. As she goes to pull it out, something falls out and she hears a small thud. Looking down, shiny gold wrappers immediately catch her eye. She bends down and examines what turns out to be, two magnum condoms that are now on the floor.

Her mind starts racing, and she immediately begins to go through his bag. As she starts to pull his clothes out, she stumbles across an empty condom wrapper that had clearly been used. What the fuck. In this exact moment Zoe felt her heart drop in her fucking stomach, her eyes instantly becoming watery. She has been with Roman for over two years, and not once have they ever used a fucking condom. And it’s in remembering this specific fact, that sends her into full panic. She starts crying uncontrollably not knowing what to do, as much as she would like to go outside and confront his lying ass, the thought of having to look at him makes her sick to her fucking stomach. Who the fuck is he using these on?

Her chest starts to feel tight, and she knows she needs to leave before he comes back inside. Zoe puts on her coat and grabs her purse, throwing her phone inside it. She runs out of the room and gets on the nearest elevator as fast as she can. Once she makes it to the main lobby, she beelines outside and manages to get a taxi within five minutes. She quickly put her phone on silent, knowing Roman would call and text her nonstop once he realized she was gone.

Zoe doesn’t even have a sliver of an idea on what the hell she was going to do. The only thing she knew in this exact moment, was the fact that she had to get the fuck out of here, and fast.

[penkura]

No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

[taegularities]

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep. 

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching. 

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh… 

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

[zepskies]

Until Morning

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD verse, lovelies! I know I promised a longer “family dynamics” one-shot after Strong as Blood, but let’s start with this.   

**This can be read as standalone, but you can also find the chronological reading order of this series collection on the Break Me Down Masterlist.

Word Count: 650 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and comfort, new parent feels.

When Ben woke in the dark, your side of the bed was empty.

His eyes quickly adjusted, taking in the digital red numbers of the clock on his nightstand. It was a fucking ridiculous hour of the morning, but he soon realized what woke him up.

He heard the dulcet tones of your voice drifting from down the hall. Letting out a deep breath through his nose, he debated if it was worth getting out of bed.

But he heard his daughter make a sound of distress, followed by your gentle shushing.

Ben peeled back the warm comforter and got up.

He didn’t bother with a shirt and just padded out to the nursery down the hall in his sweatpants. He found you dressed in one of his old shirts and nothing else, a messy bun atop your head.

You were slowly pacing back and forth across the room with the baby cradled in your arms.

“If I didn’t care,” you sang, “more than words can say… If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

Ben crossed his arms and leaned against the open doorway. He watched you in silent contemplation; his sleep had once again been interrupted, but this felt right.

And once again, his entire world was in this room.

You glanced over and shot him a tired smile, but you kept singing until the infant fell asleep in your arms.

“Would my every prayer begin and end with just your name?” you continued. “And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare… Would all this be true, if I didn’t care for you?”

Your last notes fell softly on Delilah’s head, where you laid a gentle kiss. In your exhaustion, you didn’t realize that your husband was behind you until you felt his hand on the small of your back.

“She’s knocked out,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You can set her down.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You bit your lip, as you had tears brimming, threatening to trickle over and fall.

“I don’t want to,” you said. Emotion was clogged in your throat, in your shining, tired eyes.

Ben’s thumb soothed against your back.

“She’s all right," he said. "She's asleep. You need to do the same.”

You probably hadn't slept a full night since before getting home from the hospital weeks ago.

You sniffed, trying not to succumb to the sheer feeling of overwhelming in your chest. You knew Lila would be fine if you put her back down, but you also couldn’t help the need you felt to hold her close and know that she was safe with you.

More than anything, you didn’t want to mess this up. You didn’t want to miss a moment where she might need you.

With a short sigh, Ben grasped your shoulder and guided you back with him. Not to the bedroom, but to the plush rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

He sat down first, then guided you into his lap. His arm wrapped around your waist and tucked you in close. His free hand went to brush over Lila’s downy hair, which was already as brown as his. And he cradled her as well, supporting your hold.

You allowed yourself to relax against his warm chest with a sigh. He rocked the chair back and forth until you too fell asleep, along with your daughter.

Ben brushed back your messy hair away from your forehead, where his lips lingered. He ended up dozing off a little, but mostly he stayed awake.

He made sure you and Lila both slept until morning.

AN: 🥹 Do you guys like the name Delilah "Lila" for short? I did a lot of deliberating and that was the name I settled on.

BMD Fun Facts:

Lila is the heroine's name in the OC version of this story on Ao3.

There's a nice little callback to "If I Didn't Care" by the Ink Spots.

And with the title, there's a sort of callback to BMD Part 7 - "Until Midnight." 😆

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, here's a heavy dose of dad!Ben for ya with This One's For You:

Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

▶️ Next Story: This One's For You

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you write a Damian Priest where OC has a migraine and he takes care of her, fluff and cuddles at the end?

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

sweet touches

“how are you feeling today?” damian softly asked when he reached the bedroom and found you laying on the bed with your head into the comforting pillows.

“like this morning…” you mumbled.

it wasn’t new to him that you suffered from migraines. it was something that you dealt with your own life but the change of weather, the stress caused from work and the fact that you had been sleep deprived for days now, your migraine caused a huge come back and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

you’ve been taking pills like the doctor said but you were sure they weren’t doing much.

you felt like your head was about to explode any minute.

the bed cracked and damian sat down next to you, a comforting hand resting on your back, gently rubbing it “do you need anything?” he whispered softly, knowing that loud noises would only make your condition worse.

“can you rip my head off?” you sarcastically asked, making him laugh.

“i’m sorry i cannot do that” he said “but i can help you relax, trying to make the pain go away” he spoke softly to you.

you nodded and he took that as an answer so, he gently helped you lay more comfortably on the bed, making sure that your head and neck were resting safely over the pillows. he moved your body with such care that sometimes you were shocked seeing him being so dominant and strong inside the ring. his hands placed the blanket over your body and he removed some of your hair that got stuck over your face.

“you’re so pretty” he whispered more to himself but you still heard him and a soft blush covered your cheeks.

he laid next to you, resting on one elbow as his other hand softly massaged your temple. doctor said that it could help with the pain and even if you’ve tried it multiple times without success, damian’s hands were pure magic over your body. he helped you multiple times with that technique and even if the pain never went down, he helped you relieve some of the ache going in your head.

you hummed in approval when you felt his big hand delicately touching your temple.

“let me know if i put too much pressure okay? i don’t wanna hurt you” he whispered in your ear, making you nod your head.

a few minutes passed and you felt your pain going down a little bit.

“damian?” you called him and he stopped his movements.

“yes?”

“can we cuddle?” your voice soft and your eyes still closer.

“of course mi amor…” he gently placed a kiss upon your head before cautiously moving your head to rest on his chest “are you comfortable baby?” he wanted to make sure and you nodded.

his hand went to your hair, gently stroking it “ you should sleep a little bit hermosa…i’ll be here when you wake up”

you couldn’t say no to that.

damian softly cuddling you in his arms. rain pouring outside and falling over the trees, making that cozy sound you’ve always loved, the tv lights playing in background as damian was watching the news while you were drifting off to sleep.

definitely the best way to fall asleep.

[changisworld]

hellooo, can i request a needy reader having a wet dreams so she start humping chan's leg while they're both sleeping and reach her limit; until chan wakes up and as soon he notices her decides to take care of her by making her grind on top of him with their clothes still on?

- take your time <3

sorry for taking so long to reply to this but i’ve finally gotten around to writing this for you!! i hope you enjoy it<3

18+, MDNI!!

word count;1,256

original masterlist here

all asks, re blogs & comments are deeply appreciated!!

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

PSA FOR ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone’s requests i’m just sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i’ll post it!! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji u wanna be!<3

Warnings; consensual SLIGHT somnophilia, thigh grinding, pelvis grinding, slightly bossy channie, soft sexual acts, kissing, speaking of wet dreams, begging if you squint, Marking/kisses on neck, chans hand is around OC neck but it’s not rough

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chan wakes up randomly throughout the night a bit too warm from being under the duvet so he tries to wiggle his arm free from under your head to take off his shirt. He throws it to the side & he wiggles himself back into the same position as he was in beforehand but you move, he thinks he woke you up..

You sleep curled up in a ball with chan spooning you, he likes to slot his leg in-between both of yours for the added comfort so for your ass to rub along his crotch or leg isn’t uncommon.

He begins to try fall back asleep again but you move again, he then realises his thigh feels wet?

He looks down & stares for a moment, waiting for his eyes to completely focus in the dark & that’s when he sees it, a small dark wet patch on his sleep shorts he is wearing, right where you cunt is laying on top of.

Just as he goes down to feel the patch, you move again but this time, let out a really low, slightly dazed whimper.

Chans head darts up to look at you, eyebrows raised

“y/n? baby you awake? did i wake you?

Chan asks, whispering while putting his hand on your arm & gives you a weak shake, but you don’t turn around. He sighs & flops back down onto his pillow & pulls himself closer to you to try fall back asleep but you just keep grinding against his leg, it was slow & irregular at first but by this point you’ve picked up the pace a bit & are letting out ragged breathes from your lips.

Chan is now wide awake & can feel himself growing in his shorts. He lets out a strong sigh & contemplates for a moment.

Somnophilia isn’t uncommon for you both & you have both heavily discussed it before, You’ve woken Chan up multiple times by sucking his tip or cupping his balls & you’ve woken up pleasantly surprised to chans head between your thighs or his fingers easing their way into you.

Chan thinks about it for a moment & he thinks it’s a good idea to help you with your issue.

He trails his hands down to your waist & puts a gentle but firm grip on your waist & he looks back at the back of your head, still sleeping, smelling & looking as beautiful as always, he pulls your hips slightly towards him before pushing back. You stir instantly & he pauses but you don’t wake up. He begins to make you grind against his leg but he himself feels a bit touch starved. he shuffles your shorts down your legs so it’s your bare cunt on his leg, then he slides his shorts down too so he can completely feel you.

He takes a ragged breath in once he feels how wet you actually are against his bare leg. He starts guiding your hips quicker & a bit faster against his leg & you are hot to the touch(which he finds as a huge boost to his ego) & you are still whining at either the dream or chan? he tells himself it’s because of him.

After a minute or so your legs subconsciously tighten around chans leg & he can tell your close but before you can bubble over, you jolt awake which gives chan a fright & he tenses his arm around you.

“y/n babe you okay?” Chan whispers to you, reaching over & kissing your cheek. You sigh & let out another whine but this time, at the loss of an orgasm that felt.. so real?

“yeah, just had a dream, why you awake channie?” You whisper back, melting back into his touch. “where’s your shirt? your chest is really warm, i like it.” you let out a quiet chuckle & flip over so your face is in front of his, which is when you feel your wetness & also chans naked leg beneath you.

“was too hot so i took it off, what were you dreaming of hm? you look flustered, i can tell your cheeks are rosey right now.” Chan pinches your cheek playfully & you smile at him which he smiles back.

“Ah, just… hey stop teasing you already know what kinda dream i was having that’s why your shorts along with mine are gone” you nuzzle your face into his neck to hide yourself, a bit embarrassed. Chan laughs a bit before laying on his back & manhandling you so you’re now straddling him.

“Well i know you’re wet baby, you stained my shorts, i realised when i woke up. why not use me to get off hm? you were so close baby” Chan interlocks his fingers with yours as his hands lay on each side of his head, your arms caging him in from above.

“Channie i want you to help me, make me finish baby please” You start grinding against his hard on while you lean down to start kissing his neck, you whimper at the friction but also because chan won’t help you.

“Nuh uh, you can work yourself okay hm? you can do it you’re already so wet it won’t be hard, tell me, what were you dreaming about?” Chan puts his hand on your waist & starts guiding your movements again & starts kissing your shoulder, giving it little nips.

“you- i was dreaming about you, i was imagining us kissing, i-i don’t know why it turned me on so much, you drive me insane channie! ugh! please help me” You sit up slightly to look into his blown out eyes & his beautiful smirk

“kiss me then beautiful, you’re so amazing, your cunt is dripping all over me, you’re better than any wet dream ever.” You instantly lean down & kiss him, you don’t waste any time in using tongue. as soon as his lips hit yours, you suddenly feel so much more complete & you begin grinding a lot faster against him & he puts his hand around your neck & squeezes slightly which makes you whine into his lips which make his cock jump.

Chan can tell you’re close to the edge now so he breaks the kiss & moves down to your neck before he starts kissing & sucking new purple marks onto it, next to previous ones he has given you. You’re breathing heavy & whimpering as he does so, you grab the back of his head to keep him there as your eyes finally roll back. he moves his head just enough so he can look at you as you come undone without even being able to say anything other than his own name.

“c-channie, chan!”

Your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & is so intense. You flop over after it’s finally over & you’re breathing heavy. Chan helps you lay down on your side of the bed before kissing you on the head.

“that was so hot, you need to ride my thigh or pelvis way more often”

“stoppp you’re making me feel embarrassed, can i help your issue?”you put your hand above his hard on but he stops you & takes it off & kisses your hand

“i’m alright baby, but don’t be too surprised if you wake up to me giving you the best morning orgasm of your life.”

You both smile at eachother & you cuddle into his chest, you pillow talk for a while before falling asleep.

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter fourteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 17.2k

Warnings: angst, jealousy, it gets so sad, they fight!, you have no idea who’s the CULPRIT lmao. mutual masturbation!!, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t, babes), ass eating hehe!, a little spanking, a bit of backshots, it’s a bit rough but sweet, so much praise!!, multiple o’s!! tbh i think this is the best smut i’ve ever written lolsies.

Author’s note:  aaaaah! thank u so much for being so patient and waiting for this chapter as i recovered!! i loved this writing this chapter so much. it was fun, i found myself giggling in front of my computer screen like a crazy person multiple times lmao. also!! this was hot to write, i didn’t know i still had that in me! but yeah, it’s angsty, i’m so sorry in advance!! do let me know what you think. i love you guys so much!!!!! sending so much love and kissies. xoxo <333

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Fourteen

You sleep soundly that night. 

You find it quite ironic, how your body finally rests when it’s aided by him. Last night’s actions, the way you let him wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you closer as your legs intertwined. For a second, you think being so impossibly close would make you cry, but your heart was hazy by then, foolish even, and all his touch did was swarm you with peace and deep slumber. 

Soori’s baby monitor wakes you up before the alarm can. She doesn’t cry or fuzz, all you hear is her little babbles – something she often does when she wakes up from a nap, playing with the plushies in her crib. 

“Soo’s awake,” you mumble, voice muffled by the pillow. Jungkook’s torso is flushed to your back and you dread his warmth leaving you. 

He hums, head coming up for a second to hear her. “It’s ‘kay, we’ll let her play.”

“What time are you going into the office,” you ask, eyes heavy with sleep still.

“Noon-ish,” it takes him a while to answer and you know he’s falling back asleep. You reach for your phone, checking the time. It’s 6.35 a.m. “30 more minutes?”

“Mm, yeah, baby,” he says, face nuzzling against your neck, his steady breathing sending goosebumps down your spine. “I’ll make us breakfast later.”

“Deal,” you say, pressing yourself against him further as you cozy up into the pillows. Your ass shimmies a bit as you get comfortable and your eyes snap open at the feel of Jungkook’s hard cock against it. He whines, hand tapping against your thigh to get you to stop moving. A little giggle leaves you. “Wow.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he says, “but I can’t open my eyes.” You don’t mean to push your ass back into him, but his words get to you and so the action is merely subconscious. He hisses. “___.”

You smile, biting your lip. “I’m sorry. Sleep, sleep…”

And he does. No more than a minute later you’re feeling his body relax around you, arms growing heavy, multiplying that warmth, his soft snores on your neck working as a lullaby as you let yourself be thrown into a pleasant slumber. 

~

It’s short lived, though, your pleasant slumber. When you open your eyes again, you look at the time and realize you’d only slept for twenty minutes, as opposed to the thirty you’d both agreed on. You feel the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest against your back, his arm had found a place in between yours and you were closer to him than you remember being when you fell asleep. It makes your chest feel tight and heavy. You stare at his hand, so close to yours, and thinking about him pulling you closer and snaking his body around yours like this makes you smile. Your fingers gently caress his hand before your own is closing around it, your thumb stroking his slowly. It’s a wild concept to you at times – a thought you like to ponder on – how you get to hold him. How you get to share a bed with him, kisses, touches. Sweet, little words that get thrown back and forth between you two in the heat of the moment – the softness of it, too. 

That’s how you’d realized you loved him. When his body on yours started feeling so overwhelmingly good and his warmth became your own and you couldn’t imagine how something so perfect could come to be. The word perfect dissipated from the notion of it all quite quickly, but you still believed the same. You loved him, and the feeling was tarnished – imperfect. But you couldn’t stop. You loved him and you wondered if you could keep loving him without him loving you back. Physically, speaking. You wondered if you could be this close to him knowing what you knew. Knowing what it felt like to love him. Knowing what it felt like to have him not love you back. 

Soori’s soft cries resound from the baby monitor and you gently pull Jungkook’s arm from over you, sneaking from under the covers to make your way to the nursery. You look at him, peaceful and so, so beautiful. You can’t fight with your heart anymore and you don’t quite knows what this means, but the realization is clear as day to you. 

You open the door to Soori’s nursery and find her standing up on her crib, chubby hands holding onto the bars. 

“Good morning, princess,” you grab her face and kiss her cheeks, “you’re gonna be walking in no time.” she giggles, giving tiny jumps as she bounces on the mattress. “Daddy’s sleeping but let’s get you out of your jammies.” 

You pick her up, placing her on your hip as you rummage through her drawers, finding a cozy yellow onesie to change her into and grabbing her diapers before you’re placing her on her changing table and getting her ready for the day. 

She babbles the process away, a mix of Nana’s and Dada’s as she plays with her favorite giraffe plushie. You sit her down on the floor and place a book for her to leaf through whilst you sit behind her and comb her hair. It’s getting longer and you take your time to brush through her locks, giggling when the feeling relaxes her and she draws her head back with her eyes closed. She’s such a character and you love it. You opt for two pigtails and tiny sunflower clips, turning her around and standing her up in front of you so you can examine your job. 

“Nana,” she says, taking one step towards you as she balances herself in your hands. 

“I hate to do this to you, but you can’t walk right now, your daddy would cry,” you say, holding her in your arms and standing up. You take her to the mirror and she claps and shrieks when she sees her reflection. You give little jumps and she laughs. “Soori,” you say, pointing at the mirror, “that’s you! Can you say Soori?”

“Nana,” she babbles, smiling and pointing at you. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s me.”

“Dada,” she pouts, looking around her nursery and opening her little hands as if to show confusion. 

“Wanna go get Dada?”

She smiles and puts her little hands over her eyes and you take that as a yes as you walk out of her nursery and make your way back to Jungkook’s room. When you guys’ walk inside, he’s still asleep, now on his back with his arm over his head. You’d forgotten to close the blinds last night and he was probably hiding from the sun. It makes you chuckle. 

“Dada!” Soori screams, outstretching her little arms towards him and making grabby hands. When Jungkook fails to respond she starts to cry her whiny crocodile tears. 

“Wake him up, baby,” you tell her, placing her on the bed next to him, watching as she crawls fast towards him. 

She touches his face and you see the way his lips form into a smile, eyes still closed as he fakes sleep. She’s in the middle of calling out for him once again when he opens his eyes, grabbing her and letting out an, “aaaaghh,” that both startles her and has her breaking into fits of giggles and shrieks. He has her over his body, making her jump in his hold before he’s bringing her back down again and kissing her soft cheeks. 

“Good morning, my little alarm clock,” he says and she laughs like she understands, “you slept good, didn’t you? You look so cute.”

You smile at the sight. Seeing them together is something you never get tired of and it makes you feel things you’d never felt before. In the list of reasons why you loved him, the fact he was an amazing dad stood at #1, always. 

“Good morning, you,” he tells you, reaching his hand towards you, kissing it when you take it. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked so peaceful. Plus, you needed rest.”

“Thank you, baby. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “I did.”

“Come here,” he pulls you towards him and you land on the bed, Soori crawling towards you now and sitting on your tummy. You both laugh as she just stares at you. “She’s a little weird in a really cute way, isn’t she?”

You look at her, cocking your head to the side. She imitates your movements. “Yup. In the best way.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s perfect.” he says, reaching for her and shaking her in his hands, making her laugh before he’s placing her between the two of you. “Aren’t you perfect?” 

Soori just shrieks, enjoying the love and the cuddles she gets – rejoicing in them, even. At some point, she tires herself from so much laughter and she just stares at the ceiling. You and Jungkook laugh at this, looking at each other for what starts as a split second and then lingers. 

“I like mornings like these,” he says, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Me too,” you say. 

“You hungry,” he asks, and you nod. He looks down at Soori, who’s still spaced out, squeezing her cheeks with his hand. “You hungry?” He asks her, making her nod. 

“Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his hand away from her. 

“Her cheeks are like, made out of clay or something,” he says, bringing his hands back to her face and squeezing her chubby cheeks until she looks like a fish out of water.

“You’re one to talk,” you say, bringing your own hand to his face, squeezing his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side. 

“Fair enough,” he says, voice muffled as you squeeze further. Your hands are still squeezing as he pulls himself up, inching his face closer to yours and placing a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll go make breakfast. Wait here, okay?” 

You nod and he places a kiss on Soori’s forehead before he jumps out of bed and heads downstairs. 

“Hey,” you say, looking down at Soori, “you wanna watch Bluey on daddy’s huge TV?” She shrieks at the mention of her favorite TV show and you nod once, reaching for the remote.

The next thirty minutes are spent like this. Soori laying down against a mountain of pillows, a bottle in hand that Jungkook had brought her as you two waited for breakfast to be ready, and Bluey on the big TV. You card your fingers through her hair gently as she watches intently, mostly just letting yourself stare at her. She’s so perfect it leaves you in awe. 

When Jungkook walks inside of his room once again, he makes sure to let his gaze linger on the two of you. Neither of you have felt his presence in the room yet, gazes fully focused on the screen in front of you. He smiles, for certain convinced he could wake up to this every day. Soori sees him first and she waves her hand at him, making him laugh. You turn your head around, a soft smile on your face when you see the tray he holds – pancakes and fruit, orange juice and coffee for the two of you. 

“Kook,” your voice is soft, “this is so nice.”

“I am quite the chef,” he brags, placing the tray on the bed and placing a chaste kiss against your lips. “Plus, I’ve got to feed my girls.”

My girls.

It makes you both happy and sad. A part of you wants to believe it, but the other part begins to feel like you’re living a life that doesn’t quite belong to you. A life that you know for a fact he wanted to live with Ira. The notion sinks in like a ton of bricks falling from your heart, all the way to your stomach, and suddenly, you’re not hungry anymore. 

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and Soori as he wraps her bib around her and places soft kisses on her cheek. She points at the strawberries and he feeds her one, saying something about his cutting skills not being as good as yours. But you can’t quite grasp his words, even if you laugh. It dawns on you, as you take them in, that you’re living under her shadow. You’re in a house that she once made hers, with the person she considered to be the love of her life, and what came out as a result: her daughter. You look around, wondering how much of her touch was perfectly placed all over this room. How much input she had in making this a home where they’d raise babies and maybe even grow old together. How much of these thoughts she had when it was all coming together. You look at Soori, wondering about all the dreams she had for her. You look at Jungkook, seeing just how much of her love she could’ve fit inside of him, and it makes you wonder how much of her is still in him. 

“Wanna try, baby?” His voice is muffled, faint and distant compared to how loud your thoughts are, but you nod, and he brings the fork to your mouth. You take a big bite, smiling at him and humming in satisfaction. “Good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, heart breaking as you see the smile that forms on his face. 

The morning goes by slowly, your realizations sinking in more and more with the passing of time, and this time the question is louder than ever,

What were you doing?

~

You pack the last of your necessities inside your duffel bag, double checking the inside to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. It all seems to be there – a couple of dresses, two bathing suits, a pair of sneakers, more underwear than you’ll probably need and two separate bags full of your makeup and skincare. You throw your journal and pens inside of your bag and reach for your copy of Sense and Sensibility, throwing it in there, too. 

You head out into the living room, placing your bags on the sofa before you make your way to the kitchen, pondering on the very limited options you have for breakfast. You opt for an apple and a granola bar, making yourself a cup of coffee as you munch on those. 

You try to keep your thoughts at bay when it comes to the dreaded beach house trip. You don’t quite know what to expect but, then again, what was there to expect? You were there to do your job and take care of Soori. Jungkook never showed any sort of affection towards you when you guys’ were in big groups like these and you were mostly used to it by now. You try to quieten down the voice inside your head that tells you that the truth of the matter is that you want more. And then there’s also your newly discovered realization. You know, the living under Ira’s shadow. That one keeps you awake at night the most, if you’re being honest. And so you sigh, lowering your expectations and shifting your mentality, reminding yourself that you were there to do your job. 

Jungkook’s punctual, and so are you. You’re placing your freshly washed coffee mug into a cupboard when he calls you.

”Good morning,” he chimes.

”Good morning,” you say.

”You ready, baby?”

”Yeah, are you downstairs?”

”Yup.”

”I’ll be there in a second.”

”Can’t wait,” his voice sounds dreamy, and you roll your eyes. You hate being mean, you hate being so mad at him, but you also hate the fact that he’s acting like this is some sort of romantic getaway. 

You take a deep breath, not wanting to carry your anger downstairs with you. Grabbing your bags, you head outside your door, going down the stairs and past the entrance to your building. He leans against the door of his car, legs crossed as he scrolls through his phone. He’s got dark shades on and his hair is getting longer. You curse at yourself for swooning. Right as you’re about to say something, he looks up, eyes meeting yours and he smiles.

“Hi,” he walks over to you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer before he places a soft kiss on your lips. “Missed you.”

”I missed you, too,” you say, solely because it’s the truth. You had missed him, even though it’d only been one night.

”Let me get this for you,” he says, reaching for your bags and you let him, following his every move as he opens the boot of the car and places it inside gently. “Ready to go?”

”Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, sighing. He thinks this is funny, chuckles a bit and everything, but inside, you’re already dreading what the long weekend will hold. 

Soori waves at you when you step inside the passenger seat, shrieking and babbling a sweet, “nananana.” You smile, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

Jungkook gets behind the wheel, taking his time to find the right playlist before connecting his phone to the car. For Road Trips, the screen reads and you can't help but find it endearing.

“You’re such a dad,” you say, looking over at him.

“This is an exquisitely curated playlist.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting your seatbelt on and settling into the seat.

“You look pretty today,” he tells you, and when you turn to look at him, his eyes are scanning down your body. 

“Thank you,” you say, fixing the hem of your white sundress. 

“We should be there in,” he looks at his watch, “one hour and fifty two minutes. We’ll stop by the gas station halfway there, though.”

“I have a small bladder,” you say, genuine concern lacing your features.

He laughs, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “We’ll stop whenever you need to go, baby.” You don't know why, but the kiss makes you blush. You nod at him, and he gives you a sweet smile before he’s starting the engine and the three of you begin the journey. 

The ride is pleasant. The moment you step out of the city the road breaks into vastness – nothing but blue skies and lands of green at the sides of the road. Jungkook was right, his playlist is indeed exquisitely curated and you enjoy the soft music that plays from the stereo. Soori plays with her plushies and babbles some, but you’re not surprised because she’s often really good in the car, oftentimes making her sleepy. And you’d testify to that because before you know, you’re falling asleep, too, and when you wake up, Jungkook is parking the car at the gas station. 

“How long did I sleep for,” you ask, voice groggy as you rub the sleep off of your eyes.

“Thirty minutes or so,” he says, “good morning.”

“Sorry for being the worst co-pilot ever.”

“Nah, it’s okay, baby. Soori just went down, too,” he says, and you both turn around, laughing at the way her cheeks squeeze against the seatbelt of her seat. “I’m gonna go get some snacks, Joon’s in there, too, they’re just behind us. Want anything?”

“Oreos, please.”

He laughs. “Oreos it is.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand in his before exiting the car and making his way to the convenience store. A bell chimes when he steps inside, making Namjoon turn to the door, smiling when he sees him. 

“The girls said chocolate chip cookies,” Namjoon says, holding two different packs of cookies on each hand, “but there are so many options.”

Jungkook reaches for both packs, placing them back on the shelf before he’s grabbing another and handing it to him. “These are the good ones, everyone knows that.”

“Thanks, bro.” He pats the youngest’s back. “What a nice day. The road is smooth, too.”

“Yeah, we lucked out. It’s usually packed this time of year.”

“Classic,” Namjoon says, pointing at the pack of oreos in Jungkook’s hand.

“Oh, they’re for ___.”

“She’s coming?”

He doesn’t know why, but Namjoon’s question makes him nervous. “Yeah. She is Soori’s nanny.” Namjoon ponders on his answer but doesn’t say anything. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, I just didn’t think she’d come. You know, with all the extra hands we’ll have over the weekend.”

“Are you nanny shaming me,” Jungkook asks playfully, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Fuck, no. Never,” he says. “Soori seems to be very fond of her, no?”

Jungkook looks out the window of the convenience store, staring at his car, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, she is. We both are.”

Namjoon’s head turns so fast it nearly gives him whiplash. “Oh?”

“What,” Jungkook says, walking down the drink aisles, eyeing his options. 

“You’re fond of ___,” the oldest states, matter of factly.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? She’s great with Soori.”

“Have you guys gotten close? I get the impression that you have some times.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to reply to his question without giving himself completely away. Then again he considers what giving himself away would actually entail. Namjoon was one of his best friends, after all. 

“Yeah, a bit.” He feigns nonchalance, pretends to read the back label of a Fanta bottle. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” Namjoon says, making the youngest turn to face him. “You have a crush on your nanny!”

“I- it’s not like that,” he defends, stuttering on his words a little, making his friend laugh. “Can we not do this here?”

“Why? Is the horny police around?”

‘The ho- what are you twelve?”

Namjoon laughs. “Oh, please. Give me something. Anything! The group’s official bachelor is out of duty for what looks like, ever. You having the hots for your nanny would be legendary. It would restore the balance, you see?”

“First of all, do not compare me to that era of Jimin,” he says, pointing a finger at Namjoon, making him laugh harder. “Second of all, it’s not like that.”

“I mean, as your older, therefore wiser, friend I do have to tell you to keep it in your pants.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Jungkook frowns, even though he knows exactly what he means. He’s stalling, if you will.

“It means look don’t touch, try don’t buy. Ya know. Don’t be stupid and fuck your nanny. You know how hard it is to find a nanny in this day and age? Mary Poppins is a myth, son.” He says. “Although, she’s kinda hot, isn’t she?”

“Huh,” Jungkook looks at him, confused. He hasn’t been able to thread his words since the beginning of this conversation. 

“Mary Poppins! She’s kinda hot,” he repeats. 

“What the fuck, bro,” he says, and Namjoon shrugs, heading to the self check out. 

Jungkook pays for his stuff, too. Promptly returning to the car, brain going round in circles at Namjoon’s words. 

~

Jungkook’s beach house was like something out of a TV show in which the main premise of the plot was to display the tribulations of having great wealth. 

You’re in awe the minute you step out of the car, speechless as Jungkook unbuckles Soori out of her car seat. The house is big, tall and white. The front garden alone was to die for, an array of palm trees making way to the entrance. You could hear the distant breaking of the waves in the ocean from where you stood. 

“How far are we from the beach,” you ask him, taking Soori in your arms so he can retrieve your bags from the boot.

“Not far at all, actually. We can access through the backyard. It’s maybe a five minute walk.”

“Woah,” you say, mouth slightly agape as you take it all in.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour and we can get settled in.”

The home was a contrast of modern and classic, certain corners retaining the charm the years had given the property and some others bathed in the minimalist edge Jungkook seemed to be fond of. The spaces were big and spacious, the furniture beautiful and in neutral shades that really gave off that zen, vacation vibe. The kitchen was white with a big window that gave way to the garden, making you gasp at the sight of it. Green and vast, a huge pool in the middle and different living areas, but what raptured you the most was the ocean. Blue and serene at a nearby distance. 

The upstairs mainly consisted of bedrooms – plenty of them.

“Soori’s room is my favorite in the house, look,” Jungkook says, opening the door to her nursery, revealing the beautiful white interiors. 

“This is gorgeous, oh my God.”

“Thank you,” he says, placing Soori on the floor and letting her crawl around. “I hired the same interior designer for both houses. He did a wonderful job.”

“When did you get this house?”

“Um,” he says, hand ruffling his hair at the back, “it was my 21st birthday present.”

Your jaw drops, eyes widening, looking around you as if to ground yourself to the reality of his statement. “Woah?”

“Yeah, I know…,” he says, nervous. “I didn’t do much to it for a while, though. Me and the boys would drive here on the weekends and just sit by the pool and grill burgers. I didn’t know what to do with such a space. It was only two years ago that I decided to hire someone and now it looks more like a home.”

“It’s cozy,” you say, wrapping your arms around your body. 

“Yeah, we love it. It’s nice to be able to have people over. Jimin’s parents- their beach house is four houses down. And my parent’s is next to theirs.”

“Wow, you two really did grow up together, huh?”

‘Yup,” he says, walking over to you, pulling you closer by the hips.

“I got a vacuum for my 21st birthday,” you say, right as he’s about to kiss you. You feel the way he laughs against your lips. “Oh, and Lucy got me a gift card from our favorite burrito place. Free burritos for a whole month.”

He pulls away, looking at you before he says, “that’s pretty fucking cool, actually.”

“I know right?” He nods, laughing and kissing you again. “Where’s Namjoon?”

“He drives, like, super slow,” he says. “You know he only learned how to drive like, three years ago?”

You laugh. “Really?”

“Yeah, he used to drive his bike everywhere.”

“Sustainable,” you say.

“Yeah, this one time he got on it drunk and crashed against a tree, though. It was funny.”

“Oh my God, was he okay?”

“Minor concussion,” he says, laughing at your shocked expression. “Everyone should be here soon, though. We’ll go to the grocery store and get the weekend’s supplies.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still wrapped in his arms.

“And then tonight we’ll BBQ. I have a couple of friends coming over that are also here for the weekend. They’re nice, you’ll like them.”

You nod, smiling at him. He smiles back and you divert your gaze from his eyes to his lips. You see the way he smiles as he pulls you closer, softly putting his lips on yours. It’s a short-lived moment, though, as you begin to hear the arrival of his guests, bursting your little bubble of bliss and abruptly throwing you into uncertainty once again. 

~

It’d been a day of fun, mostly spent under the sun, inside the pool and then later in the afternoon, you all headed to the beach. The kids built sandcastles and swam in the ocean, the waves tame and serene, it was like straight out of a movie. The sun set and you got to see it merging with the blue of the water as it painted the sky in a million hues of pink, orange and yellow. It was so beautiful it took you a while to believe your eyes. 

It often surprised you, how this was your job, specially since everyone was so nice and friendly towards you, often engaging in conversation that slowly faded out of casual Soori talk into making an effort at getting to know you. The girls in particular seemed to be growing fond of you and Lucy. They rejoiced on the fact that Jimin had found someone to tame his wild spirit without failing to keep him, well, a little wild still. You loved seeing her adapt to the group so well, but most importantly you loved seeing the way Jimin loved her and was so proud to show her off. You overheard a conversation they’d had with Dae and Sun as they buried Jimin in the sand and Lucy gently brushed his hair away from his eyes. 

“Are you two in love,” asked Sun, looking at them dreamily. 

“Eughhh,” Dae had said, grimacing. 

“No, Dae,” Sun told him, gently as ever, “Love is nice. Love is a good thing.”

“Do you two kiss,” Dae asked, eyes a little shy as he focused on burying Jimin further.  

Lucy and Jimin turned to each other, almost scared of saying the wrong thing. 

“Often times, when two people are in love, they kiss, yes,” Lucy said, taking her time at choosing her words. 

“So you two are in love,” Sun looked at her, then at Jimin, as if waiting for her uncle’s confirmation. 

“Yes, Sunny. We are in love,” he said, making her smile, her cheeks tainting crimson. “That’s kinda cool, huh?”

“Why,” Dae asked.

“Why what, buddy?”

“Why are you in love, uncle Jimin?”

“Um,” Jimin looked at Lucy, who was starting to get shy herself. “Because Lucy’s the coolest girl in the world!”

“Do you get butterflies in your stomach?” Sun’s question makes both her and Dae giggle.

“All the time,” Lucy says, bringing her forehead to hers as they break into a fit of giggles.

You’d been giggling along with them from your place in one of the sunbeds, Soori napping deeply on your chest. You had a blanket over her and your hand on her head, caressing her silky hair, entranced by how peaceful and lovely the moment you’d witnessed was. Your eyes had veered over to where Jungkook, Taehyung and Namjoon played a rather competitive game of badminton. He was winning, of course. You could tell from the smile on his face – confident, a little cocky even. But he didn’t fail to look any less beautiful as the wind caught his hair and his laughter got caught in the sound of the waves, making it one eternal thing that you were convinced could hold its beauty forever. 

You wanted him to love you the way Jimin loved Lucy. It was such a silly thought, but nonetheless true. Today had proven it to you enough. You wanted him to be proud of you, to introduce you as his girlfriend, to weave you inside his circle because he couldn’t imagine it any other way. You wanted to be a sure thing for him, one that he felt the need to share. Perhaps not with the whole world, but with this world. His little bubble of comfort and love. His chosen family. You had no reason to feel left out, but in that moment you did. It was a feeling so visceral that it made his rejection sting more, like the burn of the absence of him was something so unbearable you doubted you could sit through another minute of it. You felt at a distance from him and it made your body ache and your eyes sting with the pain of your love. 

Now you stood in front of the mirror, the remnants of the summer sun slowly making themselves present on your body. The shower had been refreshing and in a way, you were hoping it’d wash the sour feeling of comparing yourself to your best friend away. It was hard to show yourself compassion because your thoughts were so unlike you. You try to conceal your sunburn, but opt not to after one failed attempt, keeping your makeup light and naturally golden. You brush through your wet hair, enjoying the feeling of the cold strands against your shoulders and back. In simple moments like these, you think summer is the only season that matters. 

There’s a knock at your door, startling you a bit. 

“Coming,” you say, as you reach for the white, fluffy robe you’d found in your bathroom. 

When you open the door, Jungkook’s face greets you with a smile. His hair is wet, too and his skin has the sun painted all over it. He looks radiant and beautiful. He looks like summer. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping inside when you open the door and closing after him. 

“Hey,” you say, “where’s Soo?”

“Watching basketball with uncle Yoongi.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

“I miss you.”

For a second he just stands there, looking at you, not doing much to close the distance between your bodies. 

“Jungkook,” his name on your lips feels final and you don’t know what to follow it with.

“Yes, baby,” his voice is soft, his eyes on you. 

The words you’ve kept from him for weeks travel from your head to your throat, sitting on your mouth for a beat too long, not getting close enough to your lips because they’re tangled in your tongue. Too many words, too little sense to make as your heart starts beating faster. 

“Today was fun,” is all you can muster.

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he finally closes the space between you, coming closer. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

“You have,” your worlds falter as he takes the single step it takes him for your bodies to be touching. Your back hits the dresser. “Wonderful friends. You have wonderful friends.”

“Yeah,” he says as his hand travels up and his fingers card through your damp hair. “They’re pretty awesome, huh?”

“You’re so lucky,” you say, eyes closing as his hand caresses your cheek.

“I am,” he responds, and when you open your eyes he’s looking into them. It’s so easy to believe him. It’s so easy to believe what you guys have is more than what he’s willing to give. You wonder if perhaps you love him enough for the both of you. 

“W-we should head down soon.”

“In a bit. Tae’s starting the fire,” he says. “He lost the bet.”

You scoff and it makes him chuckle. “They’ll suspect, if neither of us are there, I mean.”

He shrugs. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” your words are firm even if your voice is soft. “But it bothers you.”

“I don’t know that it does, to be honest.”

“Oh?”

“Namjoon sort of caught me today,” he says, a playful smile on his face as his hands sit at your waist.

“What do you mean he caught you?”

“He thinks I have a crush on you,” he says. “Actually, I think his exacts words were you have the hots for your nanny. Which, both are kinda true.”

You laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“Mhm, for you.” He kisses you. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re not,” you say, and when you do it has a slight bite to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss. 

He changes the topic because he doesn’t know what to make of your subtle hostility. 

“You look so pretty with a tan.”

You turn around for a second, looking in the mirror behind you. “It’s more of a sunburn right now.”

“Still. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, running your finger down his nose. “You too.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue finding yours quick enough yet moving in a slow pace. If you were ever to wonder why you can’t deny him, why you’d rather your mouth be on his than spitting a truth that could potentially compromise moments like these, this is why. His hands travel from your waist down your middle, working the strings of your robe undone as the cold air hits your bare skin, his touch scolding hot in contrast. Jungkook lets his hands roam over your body, rejoicing on the feel of your soft skin and the way you smell clean and floral, a hint of sweetness he’s learned to recognize in your presence. It prepares his senses for the best of it all as he pulls away from your lips softly, taking a step back to take you in as his eyes scan down your body. He stops for a second too long at your lips, red and plump from the sun and his kiss, down your collarbones and the faint tan lines that accentuate the golden of your skin. He wants to look, to take you in, but his hands fail him and they travel up, closing around your tits. You shiver when his thumbs lightly graze your nipples and his eyes are back on your lips, plump flesh caught between your teeth. 

“So beautiful,” his voice is a whisper that sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. 

He lets his right hand fall from your breast, down your waist until it reaches your hip. His fingers feel feather light against your skin and as you lean backwards against the dresser, he can see the way your stomach caves in as your breath hitches in your throat, every touch but a build up of anticipation. He smiles, loves the way you react to him, even to the faintest of his touches. He follows the path the curves of your body dictate, squeezing at your hip before he’s letting his hand fall down the curve of your ass, eyes looking for the small ink he now knows where to find. He smiles when he sees the butterfly, biting his lip in what one could call disbelief. It is then that Jungkook wonders if you’re his. He can’t quite explain the thought that occurs him but it comes without fail as he takes in your body. A body he’d very much like for it to be his. He doesn’t like to feel possessive, believes he’s a little too old for that now and ultimately knows it serves him no purpose. But the question comes softly to him, the idea that someone else had you before him and the potential of someone having you after him. It leaves a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t miss, not even as his cock throbs at what stands before him. 

“I want you,” he says, eyes finally landing on yours, voice a little desperate. 

You know better. Still, you say, “take me.

His smile holds lust, features soft but eyes dark and Jungkook’s so entrapped by the prospect of having you that he loses track of time completely. That’s why Taehyung’s voice coming from the hallway startles him. 

“Jeon!”

The two of you jump, both your hands coming to your robe to close it instinctively. 

“Shit,” Jungkook says, hand coming to his forehead to regain some composure. 

“We should’ve seen that one coming,” you say, a bit lighthearted at the sight of him. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy for no reason, fully flustered. Not to mention the hard on. 

“I had visions of other things coming,” he says, frowning. “Not Taehyung.”

You laugh, and just as if he’d invoked him, his voice resounds again. “Where the hell are you? I’m not grilling for fourteen people all by myself!”

“Go,” you whisper-yell. 

“He’s out there!”

“Just- make some excuse up, or something.”

“Okay, okay.”

Jungkook walks to the door, fixing the front of his shorts before opening it. To his fortune, Taehyung had been walking right in front of your bedroom, stopping in his tracks as he sees his disheveled looking friend. He peeks behind Jungkook, catching a glimpse of you and waving. 

“What a pleasant surprise, Jungkookie,” he says, what Jungkook would call his bastard smile plastered all over his face. 

“I had to fix ___’s leak. A leak- on the- a pipe.” 

You mentally face palm. Taehyung just breaks out in boisterous laughter. 

“Aren’t you the handyman,” he says, after he’s composed himself slightly. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook says in resignation. “Let’s go.”

“See you downstairs, ___!” He waves at you with a big smile on his face as Jungkook drags him by the collar of his shirt. You give him a small wave, cheeks fully red in embarrassment before Jungkook closes the door to your room. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, running the brush through your hair once again and applying lipstick, timing your breathing so as to come down from the little high your moment had left you with. You rummage through your bag, retrieving a short linen skirt that you pair with a strappy cotton top with a little pink bow at the center. Once you look presentable enough, you take a deep breath and open the door, sighing before you brace for the night. 

~

It wasn’t panning out to be half as bad as you’d expected. With the exception of Taehyung’s wink at the sight of you, followed by Jungkook’s palm hitting him straight on the head. Aside from that, the evening had taken a relaxed vibe to go with the cool summer breeze and the bright stars in the sky. You’d been in awe the minute you stepped foot outside, taking Soori into your arms as she’d thrown herself to you when she saw you, and gasping at the beauty of the sky. 

“That’s unreal,” you say, making Kenny laugh at how Soori imitates your movements, drawing her head back and opening her mouth in mock shock. 

“Ah, I know. We’re so used to the city, this almost feels fake,” she says. 

You reckoned she was right. You couldn't remember the last time the stars looked so bright in the sky before – or well, at least for you. You think about the fact that you’d left your small town, where the skies were clear and the stars would put on a show every night – it’s crazy to think you’d forgotten how that felt like. You blamed it on coming a long way, though. It made you hopeful, although nostalgic and a bit sad at the same time. Your heart was all over the place. 

“I’d also forgotten how the air feels at night next to the ocean.”

“I do not miss the clammy city heat,” Kenny says, laughing, bringing a glass of wine to her lips. 

“I don’t mind it, but I definitely prefer this,” you bounce Soori on your hip. 

Taehyung joins the two of you, putting a glass of wine on your hand and taking Soori from your arms. “Excuse me, ladies, I’m taking Soori to the grill. Gotta teach ‘em young!”

“Careful with the fire, Taehyung!” 

“Will do, auntie Ken!”

“Well, cheers,” she says, bringing her glass forward.

“I don’t know that I should,” you tell her.

“Come on, you’re in a room full of responsible adults. Plus, it’s her bed time soon.”

You bring your glass forward, clinking it to hers before you’re drawing the sweet liquid back. 

“Kenny,” a voice from behind her says, his hands closing around her shoulders, one of the few new faces you didn’t recognize this evening. She turns back, smiling at the sound of his voice. “You know, I think I saw you the other day… you didn’t say hi, though.”

“Impossible!” She exclaims, face in shock at the possibility. 

“Yeah,” he says, feigning a sullen face. “Dior, was it? Your face was way up there on a billboard.”

She rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her lips. “I fall for that every time.”

“It’s a classic,” he says, eyes finding yours before smiling and growing a bit timid all of a sudden.

“Oh! Mingyu, this is ___,” she turns to you, “__, this is Mingyu. One of Kookie’s high school friends. They went to college together, too.”

Mingyu smiles, outstretching his hand that you take in greeting. “Have I seen you in a billboard before?”

You can feel the warmth traveling to your cheeks, gaze meeting the floor as you shake your head. “You have not.”

“I can totally see that, though,” Kenny says, “you have such a pretty face, ___. Like a doll.”

“Yeah,” he says, his hand squeezing yours softly before releasing it. “How come this is my first time seeing you, though?”

“Oh, I’m Soori’s nanny,” you say, meeting his eyes again. 

“No way,” he smiles, “what a cool job. She’s the best.”

“I know right?” She’s always such a good way to break the ice in these situations. 

“Yeah,” he turns to Kenny, “I can’t believe Mr Jagerbombs goes by Dad.”

Kenny laughs. “Aw, he’s so good, though. Like he was meant for it all along.”

Mingyu nods, mimicking Kenny’s coos. She shoves him playfully and he laughs before turning his attention back to you. “How long have you been working for Kook?”

“Three months,” you say, “and a bit.”

You can see it in his face, how he does the math. How he thinks of Ira. 

“I see,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

Kenny asks him about his whereabouts for the past couple of months and he says he’d been busy with work. Lots of travel, very little time for himself. He was looking forward to taking it easier for the rest of the year as he’d just completed an important project. He too had rejoiced on the wonders of nepotism from what you’d gathered, often mentioning his father when talking about his job. In the short ten minutes since you’d met him you knew more about him than you’d expected at the beginning of the conversation. He liked to ski, had just purchased a property in the alps, he was a pescatarian and, as he so clearly stated whilst looking at you, was single. 

You try not to make much of the heavy flirting, often diverting your gaze elsewhere when your eyes land on his and he lingers. Kenny talks and you listen to her intently, trying to act cool when you feel his eyes on you again. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t miss the way he begins to close the proximity between the two of you. The way he looks at you when you speak, then at your lips, and back at your eyes before he’s laughing his charming smile that he knows a little too well. He doesn’t notice, but he’s frowning as he takes the scene before him in. 

Taehyung flips his steak, whistling in satisfaction at its perfection. He looks over at his friend, mostly to gloat, but sees he’s lost in beef that isn’t of his culinary talents.

“Chill, Matilda.” 

“Huh,” the youngest says, taken out of his trance.

“You have these crazy eyes going on,” he says, hand coming in front of his face to motion his point. 

“Hey,” Jungkook turns to Taehyung, completely dismissing what he’d just said, “wasn’t Mingyu dating Jennie?”

“Uh,” he ponders for a second. “Nope. Mai told me they broke up like three months ago. It was friendly, though.”

“Ah,” he says, eyes still on him and you. 

“You peanut butter and jelly?” Taehyung says this casually as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing Jungkook has ever heard. True, but absurd nonetheless. 

“No.”

“I’d be. He’s a charmer,” he says, directing Jungkook’s frown at him this time. He just shrugs. 

“Whatever,” he says, gaze back to focusing on his grilling. When Taehyung fails to hit him with a witty remark, he looks at him, confused for a second before he’s following his line of vision. Kenny had left and was now with Hobi, leaving you and Mingyu alone. 

“Peanut butter and jelly now?”

“I trust ___.”

Taehyung laughs. Jungkook frowns. 

“Last I knew you guys weren’t official or anything like that,” he states, matter of factly. 

“Do you need labels for loyalty?”

“Uh, yes, dumbass. That’s the whole point of exclusivity.”

“It’s complicated between us, you know that.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

“Well, I can’t just-”

“Date the nanny?”

“It’s only been three months, Tae.”

“Ira upped and left, Kook. She vanished.”

“I know that.”

“Can I ask you a question,” he says, looking at him. Jungkook nods. “Do you have hopes? Of her coming back, I mean.”

“No.”

“Do you want her to come back,” Taehyung asks, voice soft, threading carefully. 

“No,” Jungkook says, a sigh leaving his lips. 

“Then three months might as well be three years,” he puts his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder when he says this. “Don’t put a pause in your life for her. Not when she went for a full stop.”

“Ouch,” is all he can reply, and it makes him feel foolish. 

“I know,” he gives his shoulder a little squeeze. “But I have to be the voice of reason because you seem to be reasoning all wrong. And I get why but, why hold back, Kook?”

“I don’t know, I-” he looks at you, your arms wrapped around your body as you listen to his friend intently. “It just feels like so much stands in the way sometimes.”

“Ah, well, it always does. There’s always gonna be something that stands in the way. Family, friends, work, money. I got a flat tire on the way to my wedding, for fuck’s sake!” Jungkook smiles, recalling the memory vividly. “But if you focus on that then… really good things might just pass you because you were so worried on how to get there.”

Jungkook is quiet as he takes Taehyung’s words in. 

“Some others,” he continues, “get snatched right from your hands.”

Jungkook and Taehyung see the way you shiver slightly, your hands rubbing at your arms in a futile attempt to warm them. Mingyu notices this, taking a step closer towards you and putting his own hand on your arm, caressing your skin as he, too, attempts to warm you up. They can’t quite make up what he says, but you nod and he smiles before you’re both making your way back inside the house, disappearing from their sight. 

“Shit,” is all Jungkook can muster.

~

He shifts his focus elsewhere. He fixates on the steaks and the vegetables on the grill. On Taehyung’s golf talk. On what wine to pair the food with. He checks his watch – it’s been ten minutes since his friend had taken you inside. His eyes scan the entirety of his backyard, nobody seems to be missing. It’s just the two of you in there. He asks Taehyung about their upcoming trip to Italy, gives him sightseeing recommendations and travel pointers. They spend what feels like forever to Jungkook going back and forth between trains and plane rides in Europe. Jungkook’s for trains, Taehyung’s for planes. He checks his watch again. Fifteen minutes. It surely should’ve been more. He feels insane, questioning his watch’s ability to tell time. 

“Get us a refill,” Taehyung half asks, half commands as he passes his empty glass to Jungkook. He gets bossy on the grill, plus he reckons his friend could use a bit of a walk. 

And so Jungkook makes his way to the table they’d set up with the wines and cheese boards. Eyes the bottles carefully to find the one they’d been drinking, takes a couple of cheese cubes to his mouth, munches on pistachios, praises Mai and Seulgi for their ability to make a killer charcuterie board. 

Yoongi’s hand on his upper back startles him. 

“Woah,” he says, frowning. “On edge much?”

Yoongi doesn’t know why, Jungkook knows this much. But he also knows he has a weird gift for perception. He can read a room, specially if inhabited by his near and dear. 

“This is good cheese,” Jungkook says in between bites, offering some to Yoongi. He stares at his palm, shaking his head before he’s taking the wine bottle and refilling his own glass. 

“This is good wine.”

“I do pride in my selection.”

“You have good taste,” Yoongi says, taking a sip. This makes Jungkook think about you, ironically. 

Jimin joins them, grabbing the cheese cubes on Jungkook’s open palm, making the youngest scowl at him.

“Tae says to go help him,” his voice is muffled by his munching.

Jungkook brings his hand to his jaw and closes Jimin’s mouth, making Yoongi chuckle. On his way to the grill he checks his watch again. Twenty three minutes. It’s been twenty three minutes and now he actually begins to wonder on what could possibly be taking so long. He tries to tell himself that he trusts you, despite Taehyung’s words that are slowly but surely sinking in. He trusts you. Does he trust Mingyu? Why should he? He’s a good friend, sure, but he doesn’t owe Jungkook loyalty on a matter he’s unaware of. The matter being you. And him. And your relationship, or lack there of. 

“There you are, buddy,” Taehyung brings him closer, hand panning over the steaks he’d transferred to a wooden platter. “Look at these babes.”

“Stop calling the meat babe.”

“Why? She likes it!”

“Stop calling her a she.”

“There will be no gender disparities on my grill, Jeon Jungkook. Plus, we have enough he’s,” he says, pointing at the eggplants that were in the slow process of grilling still. 

“I should get the salt,” Jungkook says. 

“There’s salt here,” Taehyung points at the small bowl he’d brought from the kitchen, to the brim with flaky salt. But it takes him but a second to realize what the salt means. “But we’ll probably need more, yes.”

“Be right back!” 

Jungkook walks. Well, no. Jungkook speed walks back inside the house, slowing down his pace the moment he’s back inside, putting nonchalance back in his strut. His stomach feels heavy all of a sudden, though.  Like he’d just finished a whole meal and dessert. Discomfort. A voice in his head tells him to fear something, anything. He fears about the possibility of walking in on you guys in the middle of something, anything. He walks through the living room, steps faltering a bit. How would he feel? How would he feel if he walked in on something he didn’t want to see? Like his friend with his arm around you, mid kiss. Or worse. The worse case scenario feels silly and a bit reckless. But then again, the question still stands. How would he feel? His first thought is angry. The second one doesn’t much come as a thought but as a pang right on his chest that nearly takes his breath away. He hears Mingyu’s voice coming from the kitchen, your soft laugh. His heartbeat grows frantic as he rounds the small hallway and heads in the direction of your voices. 

Relief washes over him as he sees that there’s no kissing involved, or physical contact for that matter. You two lean against the counter as you talk. More like, Mingyu talks, you mostly just listen. You hold a big cup with both hands that you’re about to bring to your lips before Jungkook walks inside the kitchen, making both you and Mingyu turn to face him. 

“Hey, man,” his friend says, a big smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jungkook tries to make his voice sound as lighthearted as possible, but he fears he fails to convey much of that. “Food’s almost ready.”

“Oh,” you say. It’s peppermint tea you drink. Jungkook notices the label. “Have we been gone for long? Is Soori-”

“No, no. She’s fine. She’s on uncle time,” he laughs, but it’s barely there. 

“We must’ve lost track of time,” Mingyu says this, mostly to you. “___ was feeling cold so we came in here to warm her up.”

It takes about two seconds for Jungkook to realize what he means. And no, it’s not the big cup of peppermint tea that serves as warm up. It’s the sweater that falls loosely over your body, a couple of sizes too big for you that’s most certainly not part of your collection. 

“Oh,” is all he says and you don’t miss the way his eyes fall from your face, down your body. 

“She didn’t bring warm clothes for the night. Rookie mistake,” Mingyu laughs, pointing at you. 

“Yeah,” you mutter. 

“I’m worried she’s gonna get cold during the night-”

Jungkook doesn’t let Mingyu finish his sentence, voice curt when he says, “there’s heating in her room.”

“What time is it,” you ask, to no one in particular. 

“8”15,” they both say at the time.

“I should probably get Soori ready for bed.”

“Yeah, sure. It was nice talking to you, ___.” Mingyu looks at you and Jungkook can see something only he can recognize. Not only because he’s known him for years, or because he’s seen it before, but also because he’s pretty sure he’s looked at you in that same way. Mingyu having the hots for you isn’t his main problem, no. Mingyu likes you. Like, genuinely likes you. His gaze is soft but determined, his eyes read an unspoken promise of the next time he gets to have you alone, like this.

You simply nod at him as you start to make your way out the kitchen, eyes meeting Jungkook’s for a brief second before you’re out of sight. 

“Hey, can you get Taehyung the salt? Gotta put Soori to bed,” he points at the cupboards, not waiting for him to reply before he, too, is turning around, making his way back outside. He hears the way he lets out a, “sure!”. Sees how he’s relaxed and oblivious as to what’d just happened from the corner of his eye. 

Jungkook catches up with you, startling you a bit when he grabs the back of your arm. 

“Hey,” he says, and when you look at him he’s at a loss for words. Doesn’t know what to say, where to go from here.

“Hi,” your voice is soft, distant.

“You met Mingyu.”

You don’t like the way his sentence is a statement, not a question. 

“Yeah, he’s nice. He told me you guys went to school together.”

“Yeah, we did. I’ve known him since high school.”

You nod. “That’s nice.”

“He liked you,” his tone has a bit of an edge to it. 

“We were just talking.”

“No, I know. He likes to take it slow.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Jungkook?”

“What? Should I not spoil his M.O. for you?” 

It’s immediate. Instant. The way regret sinks in the second the words leave his mouth. 

“Oh,” your voice breaks, breaking him in the process.

“___-”

“There you are!” Mai walks inside the living room with a teary eyed Soori in her arms. “She wants Daddy. I think she’s ready for bed, this one.”

“Hi, princess,” Jungkook says, bringing her to his arms. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s been a long day, huh?”

Soori cuddles into him for about a second before her eyes are on you. And almost as if she knew just how much of an asshole her dad had just been, she throws herself in your arms, head leaning on your shoulder. Jungkook takes the blow. He reckons he probably deserves it. 

“I’ll take her to bed.”

“___,” he tries, again.

“You guys should start eating. It takes her a bit to fall asleep in new places.”

When you’re out of sight, Mai turns towards Jungkook. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, confronting him with her eyes.

“What did you do now?”

“I fucked up.”

~

You try the closet, the drawers and a basket full of plushies but you can’t find a book anywhere. Soori’s in her night gown, all ready for bed as her eyes grow heavy and you want to read her a book but it’s to no avail. Your search results are unsuccessful so you take her in your arms and sit on the rocking chair. You like the one at home better – it’s more comfortable, has more of a soft feel to it. This one is mostly for aesthetics, you suppose. You rock her in your arms, back and forth, deciding that you will be the one telling the story today. Your voice is soft, so as to not wind her up, gently stroking her hair as you begin to recount a ladybug’s story about her first day of school. Susy the ladybug is how you decide to name her. The ladybug goes through the trials and tribulations of something new, shedding some vulnerable tears before her fears are all gone and she’s learning and playing alongside her many animal friends. You don’t make it this far, though. Soori’s asleep before you can even send the little ladybug to school. Nonetheless, you stay like that. Rocking her in your arms as she sinks into deep, peaceful slumber. 

You stare out the window, unable to make out the ocean in the darkness but well aware it’s there. You think about its sheer size, the many undiscovered depths it holds. You think about Jungkook’s words and how you weren’t quite sure anything could make the pit in your stomach sink any lower. You think about how he’d rebutted that theory in a matter of seconds, with just a couple of words and one cold stare right into your eyes. You almost want to blame yourself. You even want to blame Mingyu. But this time you know it’s on him. Anything you could’ve done, or how he could’ve perceived it, his words had been ten times worst. 

This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like, your heart tells your head. Foolishly enough, as your head reminds it that yes, it isn’t, because Jungkook doesn’t love you and hey, at least that’s consistent. But even if that much is true, you still ponder on the statement. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. You remember telling yourself that in the past, the first time being after getting your heart broken for the first time when you were fifteen and thought that you’d marry a boy that lived right next door, only to have him shatter your dreams in a matter of seconds the moment he’d decided to take his love elsewhere. You stayed, you tried. Until you softly told yourself those words. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. Love isn’t tears that you shed alone, or words left unspoken. It isn’t spite, or greed, or vengeance. It isn’t jealousy. It isn’t pain that has nowhere to go. 

So what is love, your head stubbornly asks your heart, growing tired of trying to figure it out. But you’re left with little to nothing when it comes to an answer. At least nothing that isn’t memories of all the little moments that made up a huge sum that translated into realizing you loved Jungkook. You think of the first time he smiled at you, of his eyes on you whilst on the plane. You think of the morning after that, of nonchalant coffee talk and your very first banter. You think of your first embrace, of your first kiss, of the sun setting and his stupid speedboat and your hair flowing in the wind and of how nothing had ever compared to the giddy, lightweight feeling in your heart. Him. Love feels like him. Love is supposed to feel like him but he’d become a memory of anger and heaviness and uncertainty that you could not bare anymore. 

You look down at Soori and smile, only realizing you’re crying when a tear falls on top of her forehead. She doesn’t even flinch, but you hate that it happened. You hate that you’re crying with her in your arms, you hate that she’s inevitably in the middle of this, you hate that you two couldn’t be better for her. She didn’t deserve that, as much as you didn’t. Nobody did, you think. Jungkook didn’t deserve to go through what he went through with Ira. He didn’t deserve whatever was so vivid in his eyes when you’d first met him – that pain, that despair. He didn’t deserve it. It’s unfair for everyone and it’s probably what you hate the most about the situation. Not you and your feelings, or his spiteful words. No. Just the inability for things to… work. The bad cards dealt to you, the glitch on the fate you so badly prayed for. The events had turned and they didn’t favor any of you but all you could do in that moment was hope for the best. Even if the best sounded like the worse, most painful scenario. 

You kiss Soori’s forehead, letting your lips linger against her soft skin. You bring her small body closer to you and feel the warmth she radiates and you hope that she can feel all of the love you have for her. You hope it stays with her forever. 

Back in your room you don’t bother to turn on the lights. You head straight for the bathroom and get in the shower, letting the water run piping hot over your body, focusing your senses on the physical so you don’t have to think about the inevitability of it all. You brush your teeth, lather thick cream all over your face without much care and throw a big shirt on, putting socks on your feet and cursing the cold. You can’t sleep but you don’t do much other with your brain, letting yourself cry, and stop, and think, then cry again. Your tears run out sooner than expected but you almost wish they hadn’t. All you have left is emptiness, a hollow void that takes over you. 

You don’t hear Lucy come in, only realize she has when you feel the other side of the mattress sink beside you. You turn around, looking at her and you don’t have to say anything for her to know something’s wrong. 

“Oh, ___,” her voice is sweet, tender. You wonder how it got to this point. You wonder when it became almost telepathic, your way of communicating with each other.

“He doesn’t love me.” Your words are a whisper that you can’t quite bring to completion. 

She brings her hands to your face, wiping the tears away before they can make it past your cheek. It promptly moves to your hair, fingers carding through it and the feeling is comforting. 

“Why do you say that?” She hates that she has to ask. 

“Because I told him,” you begin, “I told him I loved him and he didn’t say it back. And all this time I’ve been… trying to come up with reasons but tonight he just- it’s not love. It isn’t love.”

She nods her head softly, shushing you as your words begin to grow frantic and more tears threaten to fall out. She’s silent for a while, caressing your hair as she tries to thread carefully when choosing her next words.

“Love is- it’s all a complicated thing. For a while, at least. But,” she pauses, takes a breath. “It shouldn’t feel like this. You’re too good for anything that doesn’t make you feel elated and comforted and, loved. You don’t deserve any of this, ___. And I might not know the full story, and you don’t have to tell me just yet, but these tears are proof enough for me.”

You stare into her eyes in the darkness of the room, take her words in and once she’s done, you simply pull her towards you and turn around, letting her arm fall on top of yours as she holds you and brings you closer. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours. 

~

You think you’re dreaming at first, abruptly waking up and reaching for Soori’s baby monitor that you’d placed on your night table after putting her to bed. You squint, adjusting your sight as you try to make up the images on the little camera that points at her crib. She was crying, tossing and turning on the mattress and reaching for her giraffe. You check the time. It was a couple of minutes past four a.m., way too early for her to be up. Shoving the duvet off your body, you step into the coolness of the room, then the coolness of the hallway as you make your way to her nursery. It’s dark and eerily quiet, the evening events having come to an end as the whole house slept. 

It’s not surprising that you jump the second you hear the creak of the door as Jungkook, too, makes his way out into the hallway. 

“You scared me,” you tell him, turning around and putting a hand to your chest as you try and steady your heartbeat. For a second, in your sleepy lack of consciousness, you forget. It’s blissful. 

“She’s up,” he states, half asleep himself, eyes swollen and barely open. 

“Yeah. I can go,” you say. He shakes his head, not fully grasping your words and simply walking next to you to her nursery. 

Her cries get louder when the two of you enter the room and she sees Jungkook. He walks over to her crib as you close the door behind you and takes her in his arms, swaying her from side to side as he shushes her cries softly. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here,” he coos, bringing his lips to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You walk closer to them and her eyes make you up in the darkness, her chubby hand reaching out for you. You take her hand in yours and she squeezes, playing with your fingers as her cries subside. 

“Shhh,” your voice is soft, caressing her silky hair with your free hand, encouraging her to go back to sleep. Her eyes grow heavy once again but she fights it. 

“Do you think she’s hungry,” he asks you. 

You shake your head. “I gave her a bottle before bed. I think she had a bad dream.”

She whines again, head coming up in a restless manner. 

“It’s alright, princess. Daddy’s here. We’re here,” he turns around some, so she can see you better and he begins to rock her in his arms. You place a hand on her back, softly running your thumb over it, your front flushed to Jungkook’s back as you sway from side to side, mimicking his movements. It works, and in a matter of minutes, she’s asleep. 

“I don’t want to put her down,” he says, looking at her. 

“I know, but she’ll wake up again if you don’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You kiss her cheek ever so gently and he kisses the top of her head before laying her back down on her crib. She flinches a bit, eyes opening for a second that has you and Jungkook freezing like statues and staring intently at her before she closes them again and resumes her sleep. You both chuckle, looking at each other as if it was a reflex that proved complicity. Both your smiles fade rather quickly, though.

“___,” he says and you shake your head, bringing your finger to your lips and making him go quiet as you look down at Soori. He motions at the door with his head and you nod, following him outside. 

It’s cold in the hallway, your sock-clad feet against the wooden floors making you shift in place a bit. There’s something comforting about the quiet nature of the moment, though. Jungkook closes the door carefully, coming to stand in front of you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was an asshole move and I can’t even wrap my head around what I said.” 

You smile. Not because you forgive him, not because you understand. But because you find it ironic that he can’t wrap his head around the idea of you being his, even in the most childish of ways like a jealousy strike.

“It’s okay.” You don’t believe the words that pass your lips, but what is there to say? You look at him, at what you can make out of his face in the darkness and you can’t bare say anything else. His proximity, his eyes on yours, the way his hair falls on top of his forehead, messy from sleep. It all makes you… want him. It’s stupid, and you blame it on the odd time. On the silence. On the dark. On the fact that nobody’s looking right now, and that’s what your heart is accustomed to. That’s what your body understands as love. It’s what creates desire. You’re a creature of habit, after all. 

“It’s not, I-,” he begins but you take his hand in yours and he stops mid-sentence, looking at the gesture and then looking back at you. 

You can smell him and it makes you feel drunk. Soft and gentle, like his body wash. Clean linen sheets and something else you can’t find the words for other than him. It’s him. You think, for a second, that you should feel stupid, but in reality the touch alone makes you feel alive. 

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

Your hand in his pulls him closer to you and it’s instinctive, the way he wraps his arms around you, holding you in place for a second, taking you in with his gaze before his lips are crashing against yours. There’s no starting rhythm to it, it’s familiar from the get go. Almost like he knows – like he could read your thoughts and was making it count. His hands travel down, sneaking inside the fabric of your t-shirt, squeezing your ass and pushing your hips to his in one swift movement. A moan passes your lips and he smiles, bringing his finger in between your mouths, the low shhh making his lips pout against yours, making you kiss him.

“Jungkook,” you say, mouth on his still. 

“Tell me, baby.”

“Fuck me.” Your voice stands in plea and your words go straight to Jungkook’s cock, well aware of you by now. 

“Fuck.” He sighs against your lips. “Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you.”

You nod, bringing your lips to him, tongue dancing with his as you move slow, fingers carding through his hair. 

“Please.”

He hums against your mouth, bringing his hands back to your ass as he pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He crosses the hallway, hands finding the door knob intuitively as he focuses on the way your lips come down to his neck, his eyes closing in pleasure the second you begin to place open mouth kisses on the flesh. He manages, though. Stepping inside his room with your body snaked around his, walking towards his bed and letting out little grunts of pleasure when your lips begin to suck on his skin, mouth coming to his ear to let him know how much you want him. How you want him to have you. Telling him the things you want him to do to you, no inhibitions holding you back. His knee touches the mattress as he lays you against it carefully, admiring the way you seamlessly fall into his bed, arms outstretching over the soft covers, hips sinking into them as you roll them in a way that hypnotizes him. Your hair flairs out around you and you look heavenly in the dim light.

“Don’t just stare,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist enticingly. 

“Watch me,” he says before leaning down and kissing you again. 

You shake your head, a giggle passing your lips. “I want to.”

“Want what, baby?” Jungkook’s too distracted with his kiss, and with the way your hips roll into his, making him fall into you. 

“To watch you.” 

Your words are filthy and your panties are so fucking thin it makes Jungkook moan as he feels the way his dick falls perfectly between your folds. “Just watch?”

“Mhm. For a little bit. Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” he breathes out, deepening the kiss and rolling his hips into yours. 

You take advantage of the way his body betrays his thinking and put your hands on his shoulders before you’re pushing him down on his back, your knees sinking on the mattress as you bring your body up, looking down at him.

“Lay down on the pillows.” Your voice is demanding and he can’t say he minds.

“‘Kay, boss.” His words make you giggle a bit and you watch the way he scoots over, following your instructions, getting comfortable as he leans his head on his hands. He pouts before he says, “why are you so far away?”

“Because I get to watch.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

You rest your body against the soles of your feet, running your hands through your hair, getting comfortable yourself. 

“I want you to touch yourself.” There’s no shyness in your voice, but it remains soft, drives him a bit mad – your duality. 

“I can do that, baby. Will you give me a show, too?”

“Not right away. I want to watch you first.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment before he sends a smirk your way, sinking back into the pillows before his hand begins to make its descend. 

“No.” He looks confused for a second at your words. “I want you to do it slowly. I want you to do it like you would if I wasn’t watching.”

“Okay,” is all he can respond with, because the little dynamic is already sending all his blood supply down to his cock, throbbing at your demands. 

He closes his eyes, left hand coming behind his head, his fingers playing with his hair for a second. When he opens them again, he looks down at his bare torso, sighs as he palms his cock over his pyjama pants, feels the warmth it radiates, perceives the small signs of his arousal. He squeezes, feels the way he throbs as his hand applies more pressure, a low hiss leaving his lips that has you feeling delirious. He looks up at you then and you get so caught up in his eyes you almost miss the way his hand snakes inside, past his boxers, his eyes closing when he finally gets to wrap a hand around himself. His head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he circles a thumb around his head, collecting the pre cum and spreading it down his shaft as he begins to jerk himself. You want to see him, you want to see it all, but you stop yourself from asking, from demanding it, when you realize you quite enjoy the sight before you. It feels primal, almost taboo – like you shouldn’t be watching. It makes your pussy throb. 

“Fuck,” he sighs at how good he feels and how badly he needs to discard of his layers, giving himself one last tug before his hips are coming up and he’s getting rid of his pants, boxers following suit, falling into a small pile on the floor.

He sees the way your eyes fall on his naked form, slowly taking him in before they land on his cock, on the way he grasps a hand around it once more, firm at the base like he’s showing you. 

“I love your cock.” 

Your words make him let out a breathy chuckle. “I love your pussy. Wanna show me?”

You lean backwards, resting your weight on your hand, feet touching the mattress as you spread your legs for him. Your fingers bring your shirt up past your tummy, pink panties on full display. He pouts, not fully displeased, but not fully satisfied either. 

“Let me see you, baby.”

“Keep going.” Is all you say. 

He reckons his best bet is to shut up and do what you say, and so he does just that. Applying more pressure as he closes his hand around his cock once again, enjoying the slight friction for a moment before it grows into discomfort. His hand comes up to his mouth and he spits on it, making your breath hitch on your throat at the lewd act, eyes threatening to close in sheer pleasure. You’re reactive when it comes to him. With the added lubrication, he begins to pick his pace back up, jerking his hand up and down, a low moan leaving him when his thumb toys with his slit, forefinger joining as he squeezes the head. His eyes never leave you, going back and forth from your face, to your body, unable to decide which one brings him the most pleasure right now. He grunts when your hand sneaks inside your shirt, when he sees the way you palm at your tits, the act visible through your white shirt. He sees the way you pinch your nipples, making your hips roll involuntarily. 

“Yeah, baby, fuck. Touch yourself for me.”

His pants grow heavier, hand begins to slow down before he squeezes at the base, halting the beginning of his orgasm. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” he says. “Too good.” 

“Mm,” you hum, moaning when your thumb grazes your sensitive nipples. 

“Wanna touch you so bad, baby.” 

“Not yet, Kook.”

Before he can protest you straighten your back, removing your shirt in one swift movement, making him moan at the sight of your tits alone. 

“Prettiest tits.” His voice is cocky, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You smile, leaning back slightly, eyes back on his cock that leaks and throbs for you. You want to put it in your mouth so badly, you want to ride him, touch him. But not yet. 

“What would you do now? Make yourself cum?”

He shakes his head, smiling. You follow the path his hands take, the free one toying with his nipple, making him hiss and let out a low grunt, tummy caving at the overstimulation. The hand that wraps around his cock pumps once, twice, before traveling down until he’s tugging at his balls. You watch the way he rolls them in his palm, making his cock jump against his stomach. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, closing his eyes. 

“Look at me, Jungkook.”

“I am.” He complies, a bit drunk on the pleasure he grants himself. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him. “I’m so wet, Kookie.”

It’s mostly endearing, whenever you use that nickname on him. But in particular moments, it’s a sign that you’re in it to play. 

“Did I? Let me see.” He nods your way, encouraging you. 

Your hand falls between your legs, fingers pulling at the side of your panties as you move the thin fabric to the side. Jungkook cocks his head to the side slightly, smiling when he can see how you glisten from where he stands. 

“Take them off.”

“Who says you’re in charge now?”

“I never stopped being in charge, baby.”

“Doubtful,” you bite back, spreading your pussy lips with your index and middle finger, relishing in the way your actions throw him off a bit. 

“I like to give you what you want. That’s all, baby.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, fingers drawing lazy circles over your clit. “You do.”

“Take them off, ___.”

Your mind doesn’t let you fight back. It’s the need that runs through your body the more you touch yourself, the way he did so good, looked so good. But most of all, it’s the way that it’s true. That he is in charge and he never stopped. And that you loved every second of it. So you give him what he wants now, raising your hips as you roll your panties off your legs, tossing them to the floor before your hands are finding your heat again. 

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good for me, yeah?” His hands resume their own pace, jerking his dick, his movements a bit lethargic, almost as if he was mimicking your speed. 

“Nngh.” The little noises you make are dreamy, makes his eyes fall shut for a second so he can compose himself. 

“Is this how you do it? When you’re all alone?”

“Yeah,” your words are a little strained, face contorted in pleasure.

“Mm,” he nods, feigning more control than he actually has right now. “And where does your mind go?”

“You.” Your words don’t falter, eyes landing straight on his. 

“What about me?”

“Sucking you. Riding you,” your last words get caught up in a moan as you push your middle finger inside your entrance. 

Jungkook hums, eyes fixated on your pussy. “What else?” His own voice fails him as his pleasure grows. 

“Your mouth on me. On my pussy- everywhere. I think about you fucking me. Hard.”

“Come here, ___.” His words are firm, unable to take the distance your little kinky dynamic had put between the two of you, and you seem to be feeling the same because you don’t hesitate much as you crawl towards him with hazy eyes and weak limbs. He looks down, giving you a silent instruction you are more than willing to take as you lay down on your tummy, between his legs, looking up at him. He smiles, hand around his cock as he says, “open.”

And you do, moaning at the way his cock feels heavy on your tongue, tasting the precum and rejoicing in the way he sighs in relief the moment your mouth is on him. You roll his balls on your palm, not wasting any time as you sink down on him, head hitting the back of your throat, making him hiss and moan, a little louder than usual. It feels good to make him feel good – to make him get lost in his pleasure, to allow yourself to get lost in it, too. 

“Oh my god,” his voice is a little whiny, his eyes closing in pleasure as his hand comes to your head and you nod, giving him the cue. He pushes down, eyes back on you, guiding your movements as you move on him skillfully, coming up just to sink back in, letting him press you against him until you’re gagging around his cock, making him groan in primal satisfaction. “Just like that, baby, you’re doing so- fuck, so good.” 

He brings your head back up after using your mouth, smiling when you catch your breath, fucked out eyes looking straight into his as you smile, too. You place open mouth kisses against his tip, sucking on his frenulum as you travel down, letting your spit coat his cock before you’re sucking his balls into your mouth, one by one. Jungkook moans at the feeling, at the sight, before he can’t take it anymore and his head is drawing back against the pillows, tummy hiccuping at the threat of release. 

“Stop.” His hands cup your jaw, halting your movements. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” 

“Okay.” Your voice is sweet, smiling at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, fingers lingering on your lips for a while as you come up, leaning over to crash your lips onto his. You kiss him, deep and full of passion, your tongue playing with his, teeth sinking on his bottom lip once, twice, and he gets so lost in the way you kiss him he succeeds at ignoring everything else. It’s not for long, though, moaning into your mouth as his dick jumps against his pelvis, bringing a hand down to allow it some much needed friction. 

“Ride my cock, baby.” 

“Yeah, I want that. Want that so bad.” 

“Take it, then,” he says, kissing you one last time before he’s settling back down against the pillows, getting comfortable as he watches you get settled, straddling him, hands falling to his chest, pressing your tits together right on his face, a lazy smirk adorning his lips at the sight. You roll your eyes when you notice, but it’s lighthearted because you both know that there’s nothing you love more than getting those little reactions out of him. You sink down on him slowly, watching the smile fade into an almost pained expression as his face contorts in pleasure, the two of you sighing at the feeling of his cock filling you up. 

You sit on him, head rolling back as you let the discomfort turn into pleasure. He holds your hips, fingers touching the soft skin gently, a little moan leaving his lips when you clench on him. Your hand comes down to your lower tummy as you press, legs reflexively trying to close around his waist, making him hiss as you both feel the pressure you apply to his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, squeezing at your hips. “That was so hot.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pee myself,” you say, making the both of you laugh. 

“I think that’s another thing, baby.” 

“It’s too much.” Your voice shakes. 

“That’s okay. Just ride me.” His voice is soft, fingers tucking your hair behind your ears as you nod. 

You set the pace together, fucking him slowly as he moves your hips, helping you move on him, letting you feel him fully as you sink yourself onto him before coming back up, not entirely, never not having him inside of you. Your eyes lock on his, taking in his features, how beautiful he looks when a particular roll of your lips has him moaning, eyes fighting to stay open. You take in the sounds he makes, the way they get lost in your own, the way his lip gets caught between his teeth right before he utters dirty little words your way, words of praise that let you know how good you make him feel, encouraging you as he tells you that you’re doing so, so well. You cry out in pleasure when he tells you your pussy was made for him, hands coming to rest at his thighs as you fuck yourself on him, the tip of his cock massaging that sweet spot inside of you with every push and pull. 

“I’m so close,” you mewl, nails digging into his thighs. 

“Come back to me,” he pleads, hands on your tits, thumbs caressing your nipples before he’s pulling you back down by the waist. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are airy, filled with lust as you begin to move faster on top of him. Jungkook removes his hands from your waist, letting you do as you please – letting you use him – and brings them to your face, making you look at him. He sees the way your mouth parts in a silent moan when you cum around his cock, moaning at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as your pussy contracts around him. 

“Good girl. You did so good, baby,” he mutters soft praises against your lips soothingly, aiding your come down. 

“Yeah?” You ask, feeling a little delirious. 

“Yeah. Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

“Make me cum again, Kookie. Fuck me hard this time.”

And that’s seemingly all you have to say for Jungkook to take back the reigns he carries so very well. He plants one last kiss on your lips before he’s holding you by the waist, pushing you off gently, letting himself get distracted by the mess you’ve left all over him. You bite your lip as you take it in, too, the sight before you definitely matching how wet you are between your legs. It makes you giggle a bit, a little fucked silly as your limbs feel weak and your body feels so, so good at the same time. You don’t linger in your little bliss for long, though. Jungkook grabs you by the hips, pulling you back up and positioning you in your hands and knees. Your legs give out a bit, feeling a little shaky but you relax once he stands behind you, finding a spot between your legs and running his hand down your spine. His touch is soft, the sheer act sending jolts of electricity down your body as he presses down some, making you arch your back for him, throwing your ass back at him slightly. 

“So sexy,” he praises, palms coming to your ass before he squeezes at the soft flesh. “All mine.”

“Yeah- yeah, Jungkook. I’m all yours.” And you mean it. You mean it because in your state, you are. Because when he takes over your senses all you can think about is him, and how his you are. All you can think about is this moment and giving yourself to him completely. So you are all his, and he is all yours. When his fingers travel down, finding their place between your slit, you hiss, pulling away from him instinctively as the oversensitivity takes over. He feels how swollen you are, still dripping down his fingers. 

“Shh, baby. Just focus on my touch.”

“Okay,” you breathe, pushing back into his touch, closing your eyes as you concentrate on him and him only. 

“You’re so tight around my fingers. Can't wait to get my cock in here. You want that, ___?”

“Shit- yes,” your words are a whisper as he sinks his fingers into you, going straight for your g-spot. 

“Can I play with you a little first?” His next actions find you mid-nod, making you gasp as you feel his thumb gently graze over your asshole, a moan leaving your mouth. “Need your words, baby.”

“Yes. Please, Kook- nngh.”

He draws his tongue inside his mouth, collecting saliva before he lets it fall straight into your ass, watching as it falls down your pussy. You whine, needy and a little desperately and he doesn’t prolong the anticipation, fingers buried inside of you as he brings his tongue to your ass, giving tentative little licks as if to measure your reactions. You moan, face crashing against the mattress as your arms give out, cries of pleasure leaving you as Jungkook lets his tongue play, fucking your ass as his middle and ring finger rub at your clit in tight little circles. It’s damn near overwhelming, your moans growing high pitched and probably a little too loud, but you can’t quite register anything other than the pleasure he gives. 

Your second orgasm takes you by surprise, feeling the way your tummy tenses when Jungkook spits on your ass, closing his mouth around you as lewd little sounds fill the air, his fingers entering you once again, deeper and harder this time. You can’t even speak, your only way of letting him know is reaching behind you, taking hold of his thigh and digging your nails into them, a loud cry leaving you before you’re coming all around his mouth. All around his fingers. You come down on his tongue, falling into its languid little movements before you’re cringing back in overstimulation. 

“Fuck,” he says, coming up and running a hand through his hair. You smile at him, cheek still pressed to the mattress, ass up. “You look pretty like this.”

“Are you buttering me up so you can hit it in back shots?”

He laughs. “Can you take it, baby?”

You nod your head, giving him a lazy smile. “I want it.”

“How do you want it?”

“Hard.”

He smirks, bringing an open palm to your ass cheek as he spanks it. You moan, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as the pleasure swims over your body. You gather your strength, mainly induced by adrenaline as you bring yourself back up on your hands, pushing your ass back, looking at him seductively as you do so. He runs two fingers down his tongue, wetting them before bringing them back down to his cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining himself on your entrance. You sigh when his tip teases your hole, moan when he pushes into you, bottoming out on the first stroke, driving you forward a bit. 

“Fuck, you feel so warm.”

“You feel so big,” you breathe out, panting as you brace yourself for what your next words will ignite. “Fuck me, Kook. Please.”

He draws his hips back, eyes zeroing in on the way your juices coat his cock before he’s slamming right back into you. He groans and you gasp as his hands come down to your hips, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you. His pace grows slowly, steadily. He fucks you deep, lets you get used to him, measuring your reactions in the way you moan and arch your back, each of which ask for more. It feels so fucking good, your head falling between your arms as you let him use your body at his very desire, his cock hitting all your sweet spots with each drive of his hips, his breath and moans sounding so delicious, music to your ears, adding to the overall experience. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His words are but a set of strangled breaths, a high pitch moan passing his lips that makes your entire body react to it as you clench around his fat cock. “I’m so close. Fuck.” He groans, spanking your ass again, growing feral. “Can you give me one more, baby?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“C’mon, angel. You can do it.”

“Fuck, Jungkook-” you cry out the minute his hips pick up the pace, angling you in the way only he knows how, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you and that’s all it takes for the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. “Shit- fuck. Just like that.”

He fucks you at that exact pace, chest rising and falling with the exertion of his actions but he can barely notice the way it spends his body, mind too focused on how good you feel – on how much he can feel you, almost as if your pussy was swallowing him back in with each pull. He slams his cock inside of you with force, balls slapping against your clit. He feels the way your body tenses, knows you’re close. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You feel the way your tummy locks in, body drawing back into itself before you’re letting go, muscles relaxing as you cum around Jungkook’s cock, his pace never faltering. “I’m cumming, oh my God.”

The way your pussy contracts around his cock sends him into overdrive, mind growing hazy at the feeling, your moans the perfect sound to pair it all with. His hips begin slowing down and he stops altogether, letting you milk his cock with the last remains of your orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, voice whiny, eyes closed, nails digging at your flesh. 

“Cum in my mouth, baby, please.” Your voice is raspy, voice sore and body spent. You sound so sweet, so good. 

He can’t find his words, simply pulling off of you and crashing back against his pillows, running his hands down his face, cock angry and leaking. You find your place back in between his legs, hand wrapping around his cock as you give him a couple of pumps before your tongue circles the head. 

“Shit, baby,” he opens his eyes, looking down at you, moaning. 

“Cum for me, Kookie. Want it so bad.”

He nods, hand cupping your chin as he lets himself get lost in the way your mouth feels around him. You sink down on him, sucking on your way up, playing with his balls as you feel him grow tense. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He sighs, head drawing back before he’s looking back down at you, hand working on him and the tip of his cock on your tongue as you shake your head from side to side. He cums inside your mouth, hot strips of his release coating your tongue, some falling down your chin. It’s a sight to behold and Jungkook doesn’t miss a single second. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” he says, a bit deliriously. 

He sees the way you smile, swallowing before your eyes grow heavy, clouded with lust before you say, “thank you.”

Jungkook smiles, an airy laugh passing his lips before he’s bringing you back up, your body crashing against him as his crashes against the pillows. He kisses you, teeth clanking with yours and it makes the both of you giggle. 

“I’ve never ran a marathon but I feel like I just did,” you say. 

“I have and it feels just like this, yes.”

You chuckle and he swoons, finding you so sweet. You look at the window, see the tiny pockets of light that comes from the blinds. “The sun is coming out. What time is it?”

Jungkook looks at the clock on his nightstand. “6:23”

“Oh my God.”

“I’ve been fucking you for over two hours. What a life.” He sighs, closing his eyes and snuggling into the pillows. 

You look down at him, take him in. Your smile fades the more the sight before you makes your heart feel tight in your chest. Tight with love, tight with heartbreak. Your fingers come up to his cheek, softly touching him there, making him sigh in sweet satisfaction, eyes still closed. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, his heartbeat in perfect sync with yours as it tries to steady itself. 

“I wish we could stay like this.”

“Me too,” he says, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t register the full extent of your words. After all, only you know what you mean. “Soori’ll be up in like an hour or so, the others in maybe two, three hours. We should try to sleep while she still does.” 

“Okay.” You kiss him, lips locked on his, trying to lock the memory in as best as you can. When you pull away you smile, endeared by the smile that forms on his own lips. You begin to pull your body away from his and he frowns, hand closing around your arm. 

“Where are you going?”

“To my room, just in case-”

“No. Stay here. Please.”

“Are you sure?” He nods, pulling you closer. “Okay.”

“Good.” He kisses you again. 

“I should pee. And you should, too.”

“My dick is broken,” he mocks sleep, shutting his eyes closed, making you laugh.

“Come on!” You pull him by the arms, dead weight that you carry halfway through his king size bed. 

But once you get him out of the bed, he manages to get you inside the shower, quickly lathering your bodies in foamy soap, in a silence that you find comforting, powered by the exhaustion that runs through your bodies. But nonetheless, he’s gentle as he runs the sponge down your body, and you’re gentle as you lather him up, too, stealing kisses here and there. 

When you finally get in bed, it takes him about ten seconds to fall into what you know is a deep slumber, the last thing he says to you is, “good night!” as tiny chuckles escape him through the irony of his words. You look at him, feel the way his breath grows heavy, hair wet against the pillows, lips full and plump and red from your kisses, looking so peaceful and so beautiful. A beauty you know comes once in a lifetime. 

You smile. 

“I love you,” you whisper at him, head falling to his chest before sleep begins to take over your mind and body, a smile on your face.

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

~

★taglist★

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[world0fmadness]

LITTLE LADYBUG

nico rosberg x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughters

♡ how ruby rosberg / little ladybug came to be!

୨୧ are you guys liking the little rabbit and little ladybug works? they’re becoming my favourite to make, i love feeding the fellow nico rosberg lovers <3 posting this before i go to sleep so super sorry for any major errors ^_^

♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: all to you by kitty craft - daydream by gunter kallmann choir

♡ when you told nico you were pregnant for a second time, he was over the moon

୨୧ you told him late at night, he was moping on the couch because he still just couldn’t accept that his little rabbit was growing up…

♡ little rabbit was already asleep in bed and you two were just cuddled up on the couch, watching a show, your hand stroking his hair, kissing his shoulder, doing your best to comfort him

୨୧ he was so in his own head that when you blurted it out, he didn’t even realise what you said at first

“ oh, that’s nice miene liebe… wait, what did you say? ” ( he sat up so fast you think he might’ve pulled something in his back )

♡ he’s SO excited for the rest of the night, he’s like a kid that can’t sleep the night before christmas

୨୧ he just keeps giving you kisses and telling you how he can’t wait to hold the baby in his arms and decorate a nursery again

♡ you decide to tell little rabbit in the morning because nico already just can’t wait to start preparing things and you know he couldn’t keep it a secret if he tried

୨୧ you guys eventually go off to bed, nico wearing the biggest smile you’ve ever seen <3

♡ spooning in bed, while he thinks you’re asleep, he starts gently tracing patterns on your stomach despite not having a bump yet

୨୧ then you hear him start quietly mumbling too, talking to the baby about how loved they’ll be and how they’re going to have the best big sister they could ask for and the most beautiful mother

♡ did you cry a little? absolutely, but you made sure to not make it noticeable, wanting him to feel like this moment was between him and his second baby and them only…

୨୧ you fall asleep soon after with the strongest feeling of love in your chest

♡ in the morning while having some breakfast in bed, courtesy of nico, he carries his little rabbit in ( her giggling and playfully kicking at him ) and places her on the bed before sitting next to you, getting ready to tell her she’ll have a baby sibling soon

୨୧ nico is the one to tell her, of course he is, he can’t sit still and it just comes out

“ you’re going to be a big sister little rabbit! isn’t that exciting? you’ll be the best big sister ever hm? ” ( he can’t even get the words out without smiling )

♡ at first, she’s a little confused… how? will they be delivered tomorrow? she doesn’t really understand… but nico explains to her how her little sibling is very much still growing in your stomach and it’ll be some months before she can see them

୨୧ but she’s so excited! she really wants it to be a girl so that she can play barbies with her

♡ nico is excited that she’s excited and it just turns into a big cuddle fest on the bed with her asking many questions about how it works and if she can help name them

୨୧ both of them treat you like a porcelain doll in the months after telling them… you think nico was protective? somehow, little rabbit is even more careful around you! her personality is just his X10 <3

♡ she doesn’t even like to see you on your feet, always gently leading you by your hand to the couch or a seat in the garden while nico watches with a smile, he taught her well

୨୧ one thing you craved a LOT during your first pregnancy was fruit, mainly strawberries!

♡ and when rosie was old enough to eat fruit, strawberries turned out to be an all time favourite for her too which would likely be the same for the new baby

୨୧ nico figured there was a pretty big possibility the same thing would happen with this pregnancy so a couple days after you told him you were pregnant again, nico decided to do some gardening with rosie and plant some strawberry plant seeds in the garden, strawberries ready to be eaten would likely be there by the time the new baby was a toddler

♡ fast forward a couple months and you’re really starting to show!

୨୧ and this is when some issues arise…

♡ rosie was excited

୨୧ but now things are really starting to come into perspective for her…

♡ what if papa doesn’t love me anymore? he’s only going to love the new baby…

୨୧ what if they don’t have time for me anymore? all their time will be taken by the new baby…

♡ nico knows something is up with his little rabbit right away, he knows his baby better than anyone

୨୧ you guys sit her down on the couch one day and ask her what’s wrong, why she looks so upset lately and when she tells you…

♡ nico is a wreck! he cannot believe what he’s hearing from his little rabbit

୨୧ him not loving her anymore? not having time for her anymore? he hates that his first baby, the baby that made him feel a type of love he’d never felt before and brought him so much happiness, has been feeling like this and almost wants to cry :(

♡ you both immediately shower her in kisses, softly calling her a silly girl and cuddling her, telling her how she’d always be their little rabbit and they’d never not love her or not have time for her

୨୧ you decide to spend the day doing whatever rosie wanted, which wasn’t much, she just wanted to cuddle with you guys in your bed again and watch a movie, just like when she was little

♡ and so you do, you three get into the king sized bed with your little rabbit curled up between you, her head on nico’s chest and her legs over your lap while she watches cars

୨୧ you and nico’s intertwined hands lay over her and nico kisses her head every few minutes, it didn’t take long for you all to fall asleep, the serene environment lulling you all into a deep sleep, staying cuddled up for the rest of the night until the sun came up

♡ for this pregnancy, you and nico decide to find out the gender before the baby is born, just to know if you should pull all of rosie’s old baby clothes out of storage or not

୨୧ nico and rosie are both SO sure it’s a girl… nico says he just has a feeling in his heart and rosie just really wants a sister so it’s probably going to be a girl right?

“ i can feel it, miene liebe! it’s a girl, i know it, we’re getting another little girl ” ( you swear he was born to be a girl dad, he’s so excited )

♡ spoiler alert: they were right! when you got the ultrasound with nico by you side, holding your hand, and the nurse told you it was a girl he got the most cheeky smile on his face!

୨୧ well, it was cheeky for about a second before turning really warm and full of love…

♡ and don’t even get started on when you told rosie! she was wearing the same excited smile for about two weeks after you told her before finally calming down

୨୧ but hey, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to seeing nico be a girl dad again ( that’s an understatement, him being a cute girl dad to your little rabbit is what got you pregnant again, you jumped his bones almost every night )

♡ eventually the time comes and your water breaks, thankfully rosie is spending time with her grandparents on nico’s side so she doesn’t witness the panic and disorganisation of getting you to the hospital ( yeah, you really hadn’t learned from the first time )

୨୧ this birth happens much faster than last time and you’re so thankful for that! you don’t think you could handle a birth like rosie’s again…

♡ nico is still just as emotional as the first time though, a soft smile on his face and tears dripping down his cheeks before his baby is even crying

୨୧ you want to laugh but manage hold it in, just waiting for your girl to be placed on your chest

♡ when she is, nico immediately points out two birthmarks, one on each side of her back… just like a ladybug with dotted wings

“ oh, look at that… you’re like a little ladybug, hm? our unique little ladybug ” ( now it’s your turn to cry, you just love him so damn much )

୨୧ nico’s parents eventually make it to the hospital with rosie in tow, she’s practically bouncing from wall to wall, just wanting to meet her little sister already and when nico lifts her up onto the hospital bed next to you…

♡ she just fell in love with her! staring down at her baby sister’s small face resting on your chest, she knew she had a future friend for life

୨୧ nico absolutely cannot get over his two children being so close! his little rabbit and little ladybug, his babies, the children that brought him so much joy!

♡ seeing them bond just fills him with this sense of comfort, knowing their bond will be forever unbreakable, constantly thanking you for giving him two beautiful children and a life of eternal happiness

୨୧ when you return home from the hospital, it’s damn near impossible for you to get ruby out of nico’s arms…

♡ he just really wants to cherish her being a newborn as much as he can, knowing that eventually she’ll grow up just like his little rabbit did and he won’t be able to fit her in his palms anymore :(

୨୧ he still absolutely loves dressing his girls up, especially little ladybug ( mainly because little rabbit doesn’t really need help getting dressed anymore ) and she has SO many dresses and onesies and bows with ladybug patterns on them…

“ how was i not supposed buy it? it has ladybugs on it, it’s so cute, miene liebe! yes, i know she already has a lot of clothes but just… ” ( he goes on a ramble about why he just had to get this dress, he simply couldn’t not buy it for his little ladybug, no matter how full her closet it )

♡ since you guys kept all of little rabbit’s old dresses and shoes, little ladybug wears them a lot and it nearly makes nico cry seeing his little ladybug in her sisters old baby clothes!

୨୧ whenever his little ladybug wears one of little rabbits old dresses, he always talks to her about where he got it for her and how it reminded him of her, always making sure his little rabbit knows he still loves her so much

“ my little rabbit! did you see little ladybug wearing your old dress today? you know i bought that because it reminded me of your eyes, oh you were so cute in it and now she’s so cute in in too… what did i do to deserve such perfect daughters, hm? ” ( rosie gets embarrassed whenever nico talks about what she was like as a baby but in a few years, she’ll think back on it fondly )

♡ he’s also actually really good at doing their hair! i mean, maybe he can’t do all of those eccentric braids but if they asked, he’d definitely stay up all night watching tutorials on youtube <3 anything to make his babies happy

୨୧ whenever nico is away commentating f1 events, he’s guaranteed to mention his little rabbit and little ladybug at LEAST once

♡ he’s just so proud of his little family and wants everyone to know how amazing his wife is and how adorable his little girls are

“ well, my girls are doing great back home! little ladybug was a smooth birth so my beautiful wife is thankfully recovering healthily and she’s settling in fine, little rabbit is just happy to finally be able to see her little sister ” ( the bright smile he has on his face whilst talking about them could be enough to blind someone )

୨୧ you guys got little rabbit her own rabbit for her 6th birthday!

♡ because she’s young, she could not decide on a name so, while quietly laughing between yourselves, you and nico suggested britney…

୨୧ and it was decided! britney the rabbit was the newest member of the rosberg family

♡ rosie loves her rabbit so much, always walking around the house with britney cuddled in her arms and nico loves seeing his little rabbit so happy with her own little rabbit

୨୧ something you’ve never gotten over is how both of your girls are carbon copies of nico, both look wise AND personality wise! it’s like you gave birth to his twins and you’re just so in love with your little family

♡ when ruby is old enough, her and rosie start using the tree swing that nico built for them in the back garden!

୨୧ nico just watches them through the kitchen window sitting on it together, gently swinging back and fourth, giggling between themselves whilst you wash dishes and he holds your hips from behind, placing gentle kisses on the nape of your neck and murmuring words of endearment towards you

♡ yeah, this is the life he always dreamed of…

[codemiracle]

Oh, I got an idea! How your OCs would react to y/n having a nightmare

Or the OCs search history <3

P.S.All the best to you bro

        //: How would the LIs react to the MC having a                                                         nightmare?

Seth: "Aww, poor thing. I can stay here and hug you, I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you, don't worry I don't really need to sleep, I can stay awake and keep you safe all night long, yeah?" Tatsuya: "Oh, are you having a nightmare? Don't worry, I got you. Want me to make you something warm to drink? So you can relax and go back to sleep again. There there, you're so brave." Yuuta: "My mom used to sing to me when I had nightmares, I can try if you want... I'm not very good at signing but I can do it just for you, is that good enough?" Yotsuya: "I'm here, there's no need to think about all of those bad things. Wanna talk until you can fall asleep again? Maybe you can think of me as you fall asleep, I'll keep you safe there." Dr. Kurosaki: "Our dreams are influenced by many things, but mostly by our last memories before drifting off to sleep. If I kiss you enough, maybe you can dream about me instead of all those horrible nightmares, haha."

[furybymoonlight]

Power

Pic credit: LFC

Warning/Genre: romance, fluff, tiny tiny angst, slightly suggestive scene in the end

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x OC/Reader

“You have so much power over me…sometimes it kind of scares me.”

Author’s Note:

As usual, apology in advance for all errors since I am not a native.

Trent rubbed his eyes, walking groggily along the dimly lit corridor of his house. He had been asleep when he suddenly woke up, reflexively reached to the other side of the bed and found his girlfriend missing.

“Babe…are you here?”

He entered the quiet living room. Finding it empty, he continued to seek her from room to room with no avail, when he noticed something through the grand window of his living room.

The lukewarm summer night wind greeted him as he stepped out to the patio. He found his baby girl lounged on the outdoor sofa, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiled as she saw him, putting the cup on the coffee table before sliding to the side to make way for him. Sitting beside her, he drew her to him, making her sit sideways on his lap. He hated having distance between them, no matter how short.

He kissed her softly before smiling at her, one large hand cupping the side of her face. She smiled back at him again, but a hint of melancholy adorned her beautiful face. He frowned, muscled arms tightened around her midriff. Something was not right.

“You should be sleeping….what is going on angel?”

She nuzzled him on the cheek before tracing the worry lines on his face, down to his nose, then to his plump lips. As always, her heart fluttered inside her chest whenever he was in the vicinity.

“I love you.”

She said softly to him and she felt the tension in his body lessened, but not gone.

“and I love you…so what’s wrong?”

It was hard to think with her securely wrapped in his arms. Everything felt so perfect for her, he was so perfect for her, so right, too right, that she feared when the ground finally shifted, she would just fall into a deep abyss and never resurface. She was a planner, she had a great career and she felt like her life was mapped out. She wasn’t used to feeling like this…like she was not in charge of her life.

“You have my heart Trent…and I’ll do anything for you…you know? I just…don’t know what I’d be without you…if you leave me...”

She felt instantly cold at that possibility. She kissed him then, fleetingly, as if just wanted to assure herself that he’s still there with her.

“You have so much power over me.... sometimes it kind of scares me.”

There, she said it. She sighed and closed her eyes. Great, now she sounded like those clingy whiny overly dependent girlfriend character in those tv soap operas, which she hated by the way. The calling of her name in his deep low voice made her open her eyes.

“Princess…I am not gonna leave you...besides, if the table turns, you think I am…what? I’ll be just fine without you?”

“Well…not in the beginning, but eventually…I mean…you’re Trent…you have everything in life, world class football player, the whole world knows who you are, people worship you, dub you generational talent, you even have a mural in this city, honestly.”

The scouser couldn’t believe his ears. He had loved her for what felt like forever, she was a part of him, air-level essential to him, didn’t she realize that? He cupped her face between his palms and looked straight at her.

“Baby…football is a large part of my life…it’s true, and I know I am blessed to live this life...”

He kissed her then, suddenly felt he needed to convey his emotion in more than words. Pressing his forehead against hers, he looked into her eyes and continued.

“You said I’m living my dream and that’s true as well…but having you by my side is part of that dream. Baby girl…football is my present but you, you’re my present and my future. I love you...to the moon and back.”

“You do?”

Her eyes brightened with love and affection as dimple appeared in her soft cheeks. His heart skipped a beat. It didn’t matter how long they had been together, she would always have that effect on him. He pressed her against him, though they were already as close as they could be, and claimed her lips in a fervent kiss.

She was his and he’d always be hers. She said he had so much power over her? Well, she ruled him, completely. His eyes darkened as he considered the possibility of living without her. It was unthinkable, and the length that he’d go to for her was limitless, he’d even give his legs, and more, to keep her safe by his side.

“Of course I do baby…”

He whispered against her lips, which were now swollen due to his ministration. His palm slipped beneath her t-shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back. His lips tugged into a naughty smirk as he felt her shivered beneath his touch, the worry in her eyes gone, replaced by pure passion.

“I can of course, perform a demonstration…to fully convince you.”

He devoured her mouth then, all the while carrying her back to their bedroom and proceeded to do exactly that.

End Note:

Wrote this because I just need to escape the gloomy situation of LFC transfer window yet again.

Hope the boys win today!

Anyway please check out my other Trent fics:

See Me (Now)

Master of Assists

Thank you for reading <3

So….thoughts? :3

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Everything and More

summary: The reader finds herself completely and utterly exhausted, and her husband takes care of her. Plays in the same universe as "I am his and he is mine" but can totally be read as a standalone

notes: I used my Strong!OCs names for this oneshot, but they have no connection to this story. I just love the names and decided to reuse one of them.

warnings: smut, afab!reader, dom/sub dynamics, soft!dom harwin, harwin calls reader his queen :)

tagged:  @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @a-beaverhousen @ilikeitbetterangsty (msg me to be added/removed to any taglist)

masterlist | based on this request

Alaric Strong had to be the babe with the largest lung capacity in the entire world. Again and again, you rocked your firstborn son, praying to the Gods that he would fall asleep. In the Westerlands, it was common to have an army of wetnurses to care for a babe, but Harwin was of the Riverlands, where even one wetnurse was not always common.

You had decided that you wanted to keep to his tradition, which meant that you had to wait another few minutes until you could hand over Alaric for the night. Truly, you loved your son with all your heart, but there was also another headaches beginning to pound away in your skull, and Harwin was always busy with the City Watch.

When the wetnurse finally did arrive, you almost feel to your knees then and there, smiling at her as she took your son out of your arms.

She told you to take a rest with a motherly smile, and you felt your eyes water from exhaustion on the spot. Still, you pushed that down and began to drag yourself to your chambers, only a few steps away.

Alaric’s cries faded in the background as you opened the door to your shared bedroom. You’d already asked the maid to run a bath for you after not having showered for a week, but as you saw the dinner that was spread out in front of you, you only sat down at the table silently.

The smell of roast, potatoes and gravy, soft bread and tomatoes filled your nose as you sat at the table. In one bowl, you spotted strawberries so red they could only have been imported from your home, the Westerlands.

As the other door to your husband’s solar opened, you dragged yourself to stand up. It was a thing of respect to greet your husband, a manner that had been hammered into you by your mother for as long as you remembered.

“My lord.” You greeted tiredly, your knees protesting as you gave a small curtsy. Harwin quickly closed the distance between the two of you, helping you sit. He took your hand, a kiss dusting your knuckles.

“My wife. My queen.” He greeted quietly.

“How was the City Watch?” you asked, beginning to assemble his plate. You knew that, in the evenings, Harwin preferred a smaller cut of meat, so you gave him a larger portion of potatoes instead. Gently, Harwin held your wrist, and you looked up at him, confused.

“Rest.” Harwin said. “I owe you an apology. I had not realised how tiring it was to take care of my son until the wetnurse almost smacked some sense into me. I am sorry, my wife, for not taking care of you earlier.”

He took the plate, making another as you liked it and handing it to you.

You barely managed your prayer before you began to eat, not having realised how hungry you’d been up until now. Harwin ate more slowly, and you could feel his eyes on you. His gaze was usually something you could read, but today, a range of emotions seemed to be hidden behind gentle brown eyes.

“Alaric is growing fast.” You said, clearing your plate. “He is healthy, and the wetnurse says he’s one of the most intelligent babes she’s ever taken care of.”

“No doubt all thanks to you.” Harwin replied with a small smile. You snorted, trying to clear the table before Harwin stopped you and did so himself.

Harwin only sighed, letting the servants carry out the remainders of dinner. As they bustled around in the room, you saw some of them returning with buckets of hot water, filling your tub to the brim. Another servant carried a small tube with expensive oil, pouring some of it into the water.

You wanted to protest, but by the time you thought you had found the courage, Harwin had already sent the servants away.

He made to help you with your dress, and you wanted to stop him again.

“I reek.” You said.

“Precisely the purpose of this bath. And even so, you do not.” Harwin assured. “You have helped me bathe after long days of patrolling Flea Bottom. Please, let me help you.”

With a sigh, you nodded, letting Harwin unlace your dress. You pulled your shift over your head quickly, sinking into the hot water with a sigh. With a man like Harwin, no one would expect gentleness from him at first glance.

You had learned to expect just that. Carefully, he unwound your hair, taking out braids and pins until the pull on it disappeared and you felt as if you could breathe normally again. You rubbed your temples in annoyance.

The hair itself was not too bad, but wearing it for an entire day was a whole other story.

Harwin was already attending to it by the time you leaned back, carefully washing your tresses before he moved on to your shoulders, working the knots out of them. You sighed in relief, smiling up at him.

Gently, Harwin kissed your cheek before he returned to work, large hands kneading your neck and shoulders, before he began working on your back.

“Thank you for this.” You mumbled, and Harwin smiled.

“Anything for my lady.” He replied.

“I thought I was your queen.” You joked, and Harwin sighed.

“Oh gods, how could I forget. My lady, my queen. The mother of my child.”

You turned around, placing your arms onto the edge of the tub and looked up at Harwin again. He knelt down at the side of the tub, until his and your face were at one height. You kissed him without hesitation, letting Harwin hold you as he always did, his arms security in an unsure world as the Red Keep.

“I was going to keep going.” Harwin whispered, but the darkness in his pupils told you he was already thinking of something else. Your smile lingered for a moment, before you turned back around, excitement growing in your belly.

“Go on then.” You said calmly, your tone almost as commanding as his sometimes was. Harwin let out a rasp of a laugh, his hands dutifully returning to your shoulders. It did not escape your notice that he let them drift lower, fingers dipping below the water and ghosting over your chest. You tried not to shiver as a thrill ran through you.

Between everything, it had been too long.

You waited, anticipating Harwin’s next move as his hands dipped under the water, shamelessly palming your breasts. There was no way in all seven hells that you could let him know the effect he was already having on you. Yet.

As tension began to gather in your stomach, you bit down on your lower lip, hands not-so-idly playing with water.

Then, you sat up straight, sweetly asking Harwin for your towel. You swore you could hear him chuckling under his breath.

“My queen.” He said dryly, holding out the fabric for you. You stood, taking it from him calmly and wrapping yourself in the towel.

“Now that will not do.” Harwin mused.

“No?”

“Not at all. You look so much more beautiful without the towel.” Harwin replied. You were sure he could see your blush, and still, you maintained your façade.

“Really?” you managed, your voice shaky.

“Yes, really. I would never lie to my queen.”

You held out your hand, Harwin steadying you as you stepped out of your bath. He adjusted your towel, pulling it a little higher as if he cared for your modesty.

“Wouldn’t want my queen to be dressed improperly.” He said. You laughed at that, holding the towel with one hand and his face with the other, kissing him with a smile. You could feel him smiling as he kissed you back, and in that moment, you felt inexplicably relieved.

Soon, the kiss turned hungry, and Harwin was guiding you away from your already cold bath and towards your shared bed.

“There’s no need for a towel.” He rasped. “No need.”

You nodded, your hand dropping from your chest and instead steadying yourself on his. Quickly, you made work of his doublet, the thick garment dropping to the floor. Harwin broke the kiss, taking his time to look at you.

Long gone were the times where you would have covered yourself, now much too comfortable to think of your insecurities. Harwin would have incessantly reminded you of how beautiful he found you anyway, and, though you loved your husband, you had no time for talk tonight.

Harwin hoisted you up, setting you down on the bed as he undid his tunic and breeches. You laughed as he kissed up your stomach, his beard tickling you.

“What is it you want, my love? Hmm?” Harwin asked as he reached your neck.

“I don’t know.” You replied mindlessly, pulling him up to kiss you.

“That will not do.” Harwin sighed. “Good queens use their words to get what they want.”

You paused for a moment, trying to think through the thick haze of your mind. Then, you smiled at him.

“Do you remember our wedding night?” you asked quietly. You remembered how Harwin had spent what had to be hours between your legs, only to make sure that you were fully comfortable with him.

“How could I forget?” Harwin replied. “Is that what you want? For me to kiss your cunt until you’re squirming?”

You nodded, smiling at him perhaps too enthusiastically, for Harwin bared his teeth in a smile you knew you’d remember later on. His mouth wandered downwards, Harwin taking his time to mark you, sucking lovebites into your breasts and onto your thighs.

Impatiently, you tried to have him where you wanted him, but Harwin simply laughed against your inner thighs, the vibration just enough to be felt. He teased you, stretching minutes into an eternity as he kissed and licked your thighs, moving just around the points of pleasure you wanted him to be at.

He wants you to break down, to beg for it like a good wife, like the good little lady he trained you to be, and you’re too desperate not to. Your thighs wrap around his head in an attempt to push him down, but your husband is the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms, and so, he only laughs.

“Please, Harwin.” You whine. “You promised. Please, please-“

It is little encouragement that he needs in order to return between your thighs, this time licking a stripe up your cunt that leaves you reeling. Despite what little he has done, you are ridiculously close.

His hands are everywhere, grasping yours, groping your breasts, pulling you closer, teasing you. They circle your hole, dipping inside of you carefully, almost experimentally. And then, he pushed inside of you, fingers curling up and your eyes rolled backwards, mouth open in a silent plea.

Suddenly, all the patience was gone from Harwin. It was always like this. He could control himself as long as you could, and when you lost control, truly began to squirm under him, he did not hold back any longer either. And why should he? You deserved this.

His mouth was on you in a feverish, obsessive way, Harwin licking you like he was a starving man. Before you could say anything else, he crooked his fingers up again, rubbing against that sweet spot and sucking your clit until you saw stars. The coil in your belly snapped, and you distantly heard yourself moaning his name.

Harwin did not stop, he kept going until you felt hot and the pleasure became too much.

“Please, Harwin, I can’t.” you gasped, and he paused, looking up at you.

“Already?” he laughed, his mouth back on you before you before you could answer, your nod left unseen.

“Please, Harwin, please. I need to-“ you gasped, and Harwin slowly lessened his onslaught, moving from your cunt to your thighs, until he was face to face with you again. His face glistened with your juices, and still, Harwin kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You grabbed his hips in a desperation to have him buried inside you, and Harwin obliged, filling you up so quickly that it left you gasping, hands pawing at his back as he thrust forward.

“Let us make another.” He said, eyes still dark, smile still predatory. How you loved seeing him like this.

“What?” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“We should make a baby.” He said. “A little sister for our son. Please, my love.”

You nodded almost automatically, and Harwin let his hand wrap around the back of your neck. He kissed you hungrily, as if he hadn’t already had enough from you, but you returned his actions with equal fervour.

“Gods, how I love you.” Harwin whispered, his kisses warm on your neck.  

And when his movements became more uncoordinated, and Harwin’s hips began to stutter, you held him close, so incredibly close that it was easy to forget everything else.

“We should get married anew.” He said afterwards.

“And why is that?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t mind having this every night.” Harwin simply laughed. You felt that you were right where you needed to be.

[mopopshop]

could you do a DT fic where diana and the reader both play on the mercury and are like a power couple? always having matching fits, cute post game interviews with their kid, and just overall fluff.

Goals (Diana Taurasi x OC)

this probably isn’t my best writing 💔💔 i hope y’all still enjoy it tho and give feedback if you’d like

You’re in the locker room, lacing up your shoes, getting ready for another game with the Phoenix Mercury. The familiar buzz of excitement fills the air as your teammates chatter and laugh around you. But your focus is elsewhere—on Diana, who’s sitting across from you, tying her own shoes with that same intense determination you’ve always admired.

“You ready, Lex?” Diana asks, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

You smile and nod. “You know it”

Diana flashes you that signature smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. You two have been a power couple on and off the court since  you transferred from Atlanta and joined the team, your chemistry is undeniable. The media loves to talk about it, but to you, it’s just the way things are meant to be.

You go through your pre-game rituals, stealing glances at Diana whenever you can. She catches you once, winking playfully, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. The connection you share is unspoken yet so powerful, a bond that translates into every pass, every assist, every basket on the court.

The game is intense, as always, but you and Diana are in sync. You feed off each other’s energy, making plays that leave the crowd in awe. You love the adrenaline, the rush of the game, but most of all, you love the way Diana looks at you when you both know you’ve nailed it.

When the final buzzer sounds, you’ve won convincingly, and the arena erupts in cheers. You and Diana meet at the center of the court, sharing a quick kiss before heading to the locker room. The crowd goes wild every time, and tonight is no exception.

In the locker room, the team is celebrating, but you and Diana have something special planned. You’ve both coordinated your post-game outfits—color-coordinated in the team’s colors, with complementary designs. It’s a little thing, but it’s one of the ways you like to show your connection.

As you step out for the post-game interviews, hand in hand, you see Olivia waiting for you next to the team manager with a big smile on her face. She runs up to you, and you scoop her into your arms.

“How was the game, babe?” Diana asks, pinching Olivia’s cheek.

“It was awesome! Plus I got feee candy!” Olivia exclaims, her excitement contagious and you and Diana burst into laughter. 

The reporters gather around, cameras flashing. One of them asks, “Lexie, Diana, how does it feel to play so well together on the court and be such a strong family off it?”

You glance at Diana, and she gives you a nod. “It’s amazing,” you say. “l mean.. all I can say is how lucky we are to be doing it together”

Diana adds, “This game it’s.. it’s our passion, but family is everything.”

One reporter asks Olivia, “Do you want to play basketball like your moms?”

Olivia looks away shyly when answering the question .“Maybe..”

You and Diana laugh, and Diana says, “Whatever she chooses, we’ll support her 100%.”

After the interviews, you head home, where the three of you settle into your cozy living room. Olivia snuggles between you and Diana as you watch a movie. Halfway through, Olivia falls asleep, her head resting on your lap.

You look over at Diana, who’s watching you with a tender smile. “I love you, Lex,” she whispers, her voice soft and full of emotion as she leans over Olivia and gives you a quick peck.

“I love you Di”

———