#one of them is already sliding back and behind another tooth after a WEEK

[natpetersoncore]

dentists count your fucking days

[pulisicsgirl]

take the pain away - mason mount

summary: Y/N gets hurt, and Mason is immediately at her side, doing anything he can to take the pain away

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 3.1k

warning/tags: hurt/comfort, mentions of an injury, sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, also I wrote this in an airport and it all feels like a fever dream, so tbh I have no idea what any of this says... enjoy!

requested: yes!!

notes: here is another request! so sorry it took so long to get out - nursing school has been kicking my butt these last couple of weeks. thank you so so much for requesting! (and I'm already working on your other one :) )

It was a beautiful day at Cobham as you stood pitch-side, a rare warm March day in London. Your camera was raised to your face as you watched the Chelsea boys practice through its lens, snapping a few photos. Due to the nicer weather, both the men’s team and the Academy players were outside training in the afternoon, and you had jumped at the opportunity to get a few photos that could be used later on Chelsea’s Instagram.

These were your favorite days, when you got to spend time around the teams, watching them interact and doing your best to capture the chemistry between them with your camera. It surely beat the alternative: spending the day indoors, in a corner office, your time consumed by editing photos and sending various emails.

Plus, you would never turn down getting to watch your athletic boyfriend work his magic.

You panned your camera to the left, catching a few of the boys standing in line to wait their turn for a shooting drill that Potter was having them run. Your lens found Mason standing in the back of the line, and your heart fluttered as he looked straight at you, pulling a silly face to try to make you laugh.

You dropped the camera from your face, giggling slightly as you pressed a couple buttons to look at the pictures you had taken. Maybe you would keep those for yourself.

You looked back up at him, shaking your head slightly at his antics. Mason, with a satisfied grin on his face at succeeding to make you laugh, turned back to the line of boys in front of him, bouncing on his toes to prepare to run the drill.

After a few more minutes, Potter divided the boys into three groups, running a new drill with only a couple of the groups at a time. This left one of the groups to take a short rest, and Ben and Kai approached you, after grabbing their water bottles, to greet you.

One of the things that you loved about both working for Chelsea and dating Mason was that you had developed a close friendship with many of the players, having been able to hang out with them outside of work more and more as time went on.

Ben greeted you with a short pat on the back, refraining from hugging you so he didn’t get his sweat on you (which you greatly appreciated). Kai placed his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair as he laughed mischievously. You scowled at him playfully, attempting to fix your hair as they began asking how you had been recently. You quickly got lost in conversation with them, raising the camera to your face intermittently to get a few photos of the boys still on the pitch.

Behind you, the Academy boys were practicing, running a scrimmage before they concluded for the afternoon. With your back to the group, you hadn’t seen the Academy player dropping to the ground in a slide in order to keep the ball in-bounds. You hadn’t seen the way that he misjudged his speed, sliding far beyond the ball and the sideline of the pitch, right toward where you were standing.

Ben and Kai saw it, though, as if it was happening in slow motion, but still too quickly for them to do anything about it. The only warning you had was a split second where the their eyes both went wide, reaching their arms up to try to pull you out of harm’s way. They tried to shout a warning to you, but it was too late.

The young boy slid into your ankles and you heard a sickening crunch as he knocked you to the grass.

Mason’s head whipped around quickly as he heard you cry out, a chill rushing down his spine as he immediately recognized it as your voice. He saw you on the ground, along with the Academy player as Ben and Kai rushed to your side.

You were confused—disoriented to say the least. Your back had hit the ground abruptly, knocking the wind out of you and leaving you gasping for air. You saw the boy getting up to his knees next to you, rushing out some apology you couldn’t focus on. You saw Ben drop to his knees at your side, and it felt like your head was spinning. You tried desperately to regain your breath, draping your arms over your face as you lay on the ground.

It was then that the brief rush of adrenaline wore off, and the pain set in quickly. A shooting pain tore through your right ankle, causing you to cry out again. In the frenzy of the whole thing, you could hear people trying to speak to you, but they seemed distant, and you couldn’t make out anything that they were saying. You grit your teeth, hating that there were so many people here to see your vulnerable state.

A pair of hands on your sides grounded you back to reality, and you moved your arm, squinting against the sunlight to see that Mason was at your side, kneeling next to your face. His eyes were wide with concern, and his voice started to pierce through the ringing in your ears.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

You tried desperately to blink back the tears you could feel springing to your eyes. In most any circumstance you refused to let anyone see you cry, determined to maintain a tough exterior, but the throbbing in your ankle proved to be more than you could handle.

The Academy player that had tackled you was now on his feet, still desperately trying to apologize for his actions. Mason turned and shoved him away from you, shouting something about backing away from you. You saw Reece grab the boy by the shoulders and talking quietly to him, no doubt trying to defuse the situation while also reversing any damage done by Mason’s shouting. He was, after all, just a kid, and he hadn’t intended to hurt anyone.

“Mase, please.” You grabbed a fistful of his training shirt, bringing his attention away from the young player and back to you. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as he heard you whimpering in pain. He helped you sit up halfway, pulling you into his chest. You buried your face in his neck so that no one could see the tears that slid down your cheeks, still holding his shirt tightly in your fist.

Mason slowly stroked his fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you as Ben explained what had happened. Your leg was still throbbing, leaving you unable to focus on anything that was happening around you. Mason pressed a kiss to the top of your head, whispering soothing words in your ear. He desperately wanted to take the pain away from you, but he didn’t know how.

You felt Mason’s muscles tense up, as he suddenly felt that there were too many people crowding around you. “Everyone back up!” he shouted, startling you. “Back up! Give her some space!”

Several people took a couple steps back at his sudden outburst, but Kai rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder to calm him. “They’re the physios, mate. They’re trying to help.”

When Mason lifted his eyes, getting a better look at the two individuals who were now coming to your side, he realized that Kai was right, recognizing the physios from times that he had spent in recovery after being injured.

One of the physios, a middle-aged woman with a reassuring, gentle look in her eyes, told you she was going to take your shoe off and waited for your short nod before she began undoing the laces.

Mason’s heart clenched in his chest when you gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He did his best to give you a comforting smile, despite the sickening feeling in his gut at seeing you in so much pain.

The physio did her best to removed your shoe without causing you any more pain, but the slight movement of your foot still caused you to whimper out in pain. You grasped Mason’s bicep, and he hissed slightly as your nails dug painfully into his arm, but he didn’t dare to let on that you had hurt him.

When your sock and shoe were both removed, Mason could see that your ankle had already become swollen, beginning to flush a deep shade of purple.

“We’ll need to bring her up to the facility and wrap this,” the physio spoke, more to Mason than to you. She placed a hand gently on your knee, trying to bring your attention to her. “Do you think you can try to walk on it? I don’t think it’s broken.”

You nodded, trying your best to be tough. You let go of Mason’s arms, and he untangled his arms from around you, moving to stand in front of where you were sitting. You took his hands, letting him pull you to your feet as you kept all of your weight on your left leg. The breeze chilled the thin layer of sweat that had formed on your neck.

Mason still held tightly to your arms, standing in front of you and intensely watching your eyes as you tried to settled your foot to the ground, putting some weight on it. Your face contorted in pain immediately as a shooting pain radiated from your ankle up your leg, and your knee gave out. Mason was quick to catch you before you fell. You shook your head vigorously, letting out a quite “I can’t”.

Mason swept you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he followed behind the physios and walking as gently as he could so he didn’t cause you any unnecessary pain. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder again, finding comfort there.

When you finally made it into the training facility, Mason followed the physios into the treatment room, setting you down on a cushioned table so they could wrap your foot. You noticed then that Ben had followed you all inside, carrying your shoe and camera, which had, remarkably, remained unharmed in the clash. You smiled at him in thanks, and he walked over to you on the side that Mason wasn’t standing to give you a short hug and a kiss on top of your head before he went back out to rejoin training.

The whole ordeal had drained you of any energy, and you let out a sigh as you dropped your head onto Mason’s shoulder. The pain had faded slightly, into a dull throbbing, and his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back was helping to calm you.

“You doing okay?” he whispered, checking in. Your eyes slipped shut and you nodded into his neck, too tired to say anything in reply.

The physios looked over your ankle, deciding it wasn’t a break, but rather a very bad sprain. They gave you some pain medication, put your foot in a boot, and instructed you to take it easy for a couple of days before you returned to your normal routine.

Mason took you home, waiting hand and foot on you for the rest of the day. He even took the next day off of training to look after you, despite your insistence that he didn’t need to. Though the pain had been miserable, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the extra attention that Mason gave you as a result of your injury. He was already a very touchy and affectionate person, but it had been dialed up to 10 ever since that day at Cobham.

That Friday, several days after your injury, Kai and Sophia were hosting a game night at their place. The boys didn’t have a game that weekend, and they wanted to use it as an opportunity to get together and just spend a chill night hanging out.

After reassuring Mason numerous times that you were still up for going, the two of you walked into the house, you wobbling slightly as you were still getting used to walking in the boot. The room erupted with noise as everyone shouted greetings as you entered. Several of the boys came over, patting you on the back or pulling you into a hug, saying how they had missed seeing you at Cobham since your injury. Your heart swelled with affection as you returned their hugs. Sophia came over, pulling you to the couch so that the two could catch up while the boys were talking to Mason.

The night went on, and you learned several new card games and board games. Being with everyone did wonders to lift your mood after a fairly dull week following your injury. Mason was still attentive, constantly touching you in some way at all times, whether than was an innocent hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapping securely around your shoulders and placing a kiss to your forehead every couple of minutes. But you could tell that he was glad to be out with his group of friends.

The rest of the group didn’t miss the extra protective air surrounding Mason as he kept an eye out for you the whole night. It was endearing to see how much he cared about you and the comfort that seemed to wash over him at being able to have you around with the rest of the team again. None of them had ever seen Mason be this way with any other girl—you all definitely had something special. But although they were happy for him, it didn’t stop the boys from poking fun at him periodically for it anyway.

The evening continued, and you began to grow more tired, but you refused to say anything to Mason because you truly didn’t want to leave.

Sophia brought out a new game as the time passed 11 pm, and the game night was showing no signs of slowing down. You opted to sit this game out, waving it off when Ben asked if you were alright.

Despite your best efforts to hide your exhaustion, Mason still noticed, ever the attentive boyfriend. He leaned back on the couch, wrapping his arm gently around your shoulders as Kai and Sophia set the game up on the table in front of you. You sighed in content, resting your head on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes as Mason pressed a kiss to your forehead and mumbled a short, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nodded, turning so you could look him in the eye.

“Are you sure? Do you want to go home?” you could still see the concern in his eyes as he searched your face.

“No, no, I’m okay, really,” you smiling to try and reassure him. “I promise.”

Mason searched your face for a moment more, seeming to finally accept your answer as you laid your head back on his chest. He turned and continued talking with Ben, and as you looked back toward the table, Sophia held your gaze with a knowing look. She grinned at you, and you felt the blush rushing into your cheeks. You hid your face in Mason’s chest and suppressed a giggle.

Despite having been in a relationship with Mason for several months, he never ceased to make you giggly and giddy with his affectionate gestures. Sophia was always the first one to tease you about how flustered he made you.

The game night resumed as soon as everyone understood the rules, and you untucked yourself from Mason’s side so he could lean forward to play the game. You sat quietly, content to watch as everyone else played and joked with one another. But the longer you watched, the more your eyes began to droop. Like there was a magnet pulling you, you felt drawn toward Mason as you began to slump over from exhaustion, and you laid your head on his shoulder blade. Without turning from the game, he reached behind him, pulling your arms so that they were wrapped around his waist.

You held to him tightly, soothed by his breathing and the sound of his soft laughter every now and then. Mason kept one hand on your arms, where they met in his lap, stroking his thumb softly over the back of one of your hands.

After several minutes of silence from you, he grew suspicious of the fact that he hadn’t felt you move in a while – not even a slight shift.

“You doing okay back there, Y/N?” he asked softly.

He was met with no answer. He furrowed his brow, turning his head to look at you, but he couldn’t move far enough to see your face without shifting you.

“Y/N?” he repeated.

“I think she’s asleep, mate,” Ben commented, sitting on your other side, where he had a clear view of your face. Your cheek was slightly squished from where it was pressed against Mason’s shoulders, lips parted as the muscles in your face relaxed completely.

Mason couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his face as he unwrapped your arms from his waist, pulling your legs so that they draped across his lap and he could hold you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you stirred before settling into his side.

“You lovebirds can’t keep your hands off of each other, can you?” Kai teased, grinning at the smitten look on his friend’s face.

“Oh, give it a couple years,” Ben chuckled from the other side of the couch, jumping at the opportunity to get under Mason’s skin. “They’ll be sick of each other soon enough.”

Some of the guys laughed at his remark, knowing he didn’t mean it at all. Mason just kept looking down at you as you laid on his chest, a loving look in his eyes.

“Nah, a couple years from now, I’m gonna marry her,” he replied matter-of-factly, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice. The rest of the group smiled, silently coming to the decision to let you all be and continue playing their game.

With your face tucked into Mason’s chest, he couldn’t see the smile that curled your lips as you heard his words just before you fell back to sleep.

[autemis]

If you ask someone what "bonding" actually means, they will usually just tell you, "it's when an alpha bites an omega." This is true in principle, but the other person will still not know what "bonding" actually means or what happens. That is why it is interesting to have a look at the anatomy behind it. Oh, and to clear up a few clichés right away: No, bonding does not mean that an omega now completely belongs to an alpha and has to do everything he wants. This is a misconception that many have already fallen for and a reason why bonding has such a bad reputation among the Omegas.

All right, let's get started:

First of all, it should be said that the "ritual" does not require any special preparations. For some reason, it has become a misconception that the omega has to be in heat for this process, but that is not the case. It is probably because, during this time, you can easily lose control and do things without thinking. (This danger exists, especially with young Alphas who are experiencing an omega in heat for the first time. It is therefore incredibly important to keep young Alphas and Omegas separated during a heat). But let's not dwell on that too long. Let's stay with the Omega: An indispensable part of the bonding is the scent glad on the neck of the omega. It's a clearly visible skin elevation about the diameter of a ping-pong ball. Depending on the state of health or the heat cycle, the appearance of this bulge can vary. The bulge is also caused by the pheromone deposit, which is located under the skin layers, in the area of the fat layer. It is also responsible for the individual scent of an omega.

Inside the bladder there is a great negative pressure, but it does not feel painful for the omega. Only when great force hits it, it can become uncomfortable. The bladder is also connected to the blood circulation. However, since the openings are normally very narrowed, nothing can actually exit or enter.

The counterpart to this are the fangs of the alpha. In the canines, there is a small cavity in the inner part, which leads up into the jaw like a tube system. This can also be called as a kind of "tunnel". It's also is a pheromone layer there, but with much more highly concentrated pheromones than in the scent glad of the Omega. The cavity itself is closed by a caries-like formation, so that the tooth cannot be attacked from the inside. Nevertheless, alphas are advised to pay special attention to their dental care.

Now let's move on to the bonding process:

An alpha penetrates the scent glad of the omega by biting. The pheromone liquid acts like a kind of solvent on the filler in the alpha's tooth. This exposes the passage and the pheromones of the alpha can mix with the omega ones. The resulting mixture becomes a new pheromone, which the alpha and omega will now share. At the same time, a chemical reaction occurs, which causes the negative pressure in the bubble to become too high. The accesses will widen, so that the new liquid can escape from the bladder and will slide into the bloodstream of the omega. At the same time, some of the pheromone fluid is also shot back through the tooth into the alpha, where it is also absorbed through the arteries into the bloodstream. The bonding is now complete and both alpha and omega now share the same pheromone allowing them to be identified as mates. The former pheromone deposits close within 2 - 3 days and the tunnel in the tooth is sealed again after about a week. Omega and Alpha are never able to perform this ritual again. It is a misconception that only the omega is bound to the other forever. Also an Alpha can never again "bond" with another Omega.

However, bonding should really be considered carefully. You can theoretically get together with a new partner - if there are problems in the bonding relationship - but this is not advisable in any case. It is not that you die if you are separated from your partner for too long (I don't know who came up with that), but there are enough other things that cannot be fulfilled by other Omegas or Alphas anymore. The omega for example is no longer influenced by the pheromones of others. This in turn means that, for example during an extremely stressful heat, the omega can only be calmed by his partner. Of course, the same goes for the Alpha. Only his chosen omega is able to calm or influence him.

That is why another word for bonding is "soul pact", because it is assumed that only true soul mates dare to take the risk of bonding.

That's basically it, but there's one more thing I'd like to talk about:

- The new pheromone that the two now share is actually a mixture of equal parts of alphas and omegas. However, studies have now proven that the alpha pheromone is more present in terms of smell. Some Omegas have even been mistaken for an Alpha after bonding, just because the Alpha's pheromone was so strong.

Sanji and Law are the prime example. Since Sanji has only very weak pheromones, Law's phermon clearly dominates this ritual. So you could say that Law's scent has hardly changed, but Sanji is no longer considered a beta, but an alpha.

That should be it. I hope that now more people understand what bonding actually means and that it is in no way only to the disadvantage of the Omega.

Thanks a lot for listening and if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask. Oh and if you have any suggestions or wishes for further lessons, please let me know!

[descendantofthesparrow]

Before Rewrite - Hades

*Spoilers for D3 rewrite~!!!! takes place from when Hades gets to the isle to the scene where Mal takes the ember from Hades!*

=

Hades cursed the rulers of Auradon every hour of every day for putting him on this wretched isle of filth and trash. He was a god! The god of the undead, the underworld! He was a crucial player in the mortal's circle of life; without him, there would be no place for souls to go, Thanatos would harvest them but with no one to claim them; they would wander around the lands forever.

He could already sense the disturbed souls, miserably watching their families walk by, or through them. All alone with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

He had only been here for two weeks and he was already sick of it; he may have never liked it but his job was important and he needed to get back to work

-

Two weeks and four days…that's all it took for the gods to replace him. He didn’t know who it was but they seemed to know what they were doing, claiming souls so fast Hades could hardly sense when one had left the mortal world to live in the underworld.

Hades perked up at the sound of crying

Oh, Hadie.

He turned on his heel and speed over to the makeshift crib of his son, rubbing the top of his fuzzy blue hair and picking him up; gently rocking him as Hadie continued to cry, Hades didn’t know from what but he would try to find out.

-

Like the little god he was, Hadie unexpectedly thrived on the barren isle of the lost; with what little food he got and with little sun, Hadie grew quickly and strong. At four years old he was already growing into his namesake; though Hades couldn’t ever resist being a dad over his little gap tooth in the middle of his teeth.

Hades just wished Persephone could see Hadie grow, and Hades wished he could see his little flower, Melinoe, grow into the headstrong warrior she was meant to be.

-

Whaaaaaaaat the fuck did he do….what in the actual fuck did he DO?!

He had stupidly gotten black out drunk at Gaston’s bar and somehow ended up with Maleficent! Of all people on the isle?! No-not out of all people, just with someone in general!?

He had prided himself in being the most loyal husband of his brothers, Zeus who had slept with a woman every time Hera blinked, and Poseidon; who wasn’t any better.

Hades had always been loyal and true to his wife…well there were those two times BUT compared to his brothers; he was loyal.

AND NOW HE HAD TO GO AND FUCK UP THAT STREAK; over 1000 years, 1000 years! And some bad whiskey had to ruin it.

He left that bed without a word, rushing home to his 4-year-old son who luckily hadn’t woken up yet from his sleep; and Hades swore if nothing came from that mistake, Hadie would never know about it.

-

Welp…that was something that came from the mistake. 11 months after the incident with Maleficent-

-There, right in front of his gates to his underground lair; was a little baby girl, halfheartedly swaddled in a green blanket and set at his gate, a little note taped to the front.

‘your problem now -M’

Hades leaned out of the gates, looking around for any goblins or any sign of the mistress of evil herself. But there was nothing. Hades sighed and crouched down, gently picking up the baby girl and holding him to his chest, her cries quieting as her cheek pressed against the fabric of his shirt.

She opened her eyes, vivid green with sparks of gold and yellow. She laughed, reaching up to his hair with a gummy smile. Hades sighed again and turned on his heel, closing the gate with his foot.

At least he got another chance at raising his daughter, and he would do his best to do as he would’ve with Melinoe.

-

Hadie had asked a billion questions when Hades placed the new baby in Hades old crib, leaning over and peering down at his little sister. Hades had explained it the best way he knew how to a child; but Hadie miraculously understood, didn’t blame him. All he did was reach down towards his sister and grin as the baby took his finger.

“I like her! Are we keeping her?” Hadie had asked, his gap tooth making his little grin seem even bigger.

“she's not a dog Hadie, but yes that’s the plan. I don’t think her mother’s coming back.” Hades rubbed Hadie’s fluffy blue hair and then reached out to rub his daughter's bluish-purple hair gently, her two-month-old hair curling around his fingers.

“What's her name?” Hadie continued to babble off questions, his yellow eyes staring directly into his sister's emerald eyes.

Hades thought for a moment, pursing his lips as he looked at the note and turned it over. Nothing other than Maleficent's writing and initial. Either the fae hadn’t given the baby a name or didn’t care enough to tell him.

“Morana“ the pagan Slavic goddess of winter and death; he had met or once or twice, not enough to know her but the name matched the baby girl before him well enough. (in this world, gods of all religions/beliefs exist in the same universe, they usually keep to themselves and rarely interact.)

Hadie repeated the name, pulling his finger around with Morana still holding onto him. “I like it!”

-

Three months later, Maleficent returned and took Morana from him; not even letting him give her a damn thing to remember him by. “I need an heir, that evil queens been bragging about her little rat and I won't let her get the upper hand with it” Hadie watched from behind Hades legs as the fae walked away with his little sister, her blue-purple hair stark against the black of Maleficent's sleeves.

Morana cried the entire time, reaching out for her father with tears streaming from her sparking yellow-green eyes, her face red with the flurry of confusing emotions she was feeling.

Hades took a step forward, going to take his daughter back but was stopped by Maleficent's goons, all glaring at him.

He was outmatched.

He stepped back, glaring at Maleficent's back as she took back their daughter she had abandoned so heartlessly three months ago.

-

Mal. That was her name now. He had heard many talk about the newly revealed daughter of evil; the daughter of Maleficent. Mal.

Hades clicked his jaw at the thought of her name, Maleficent had been shellfish and named her own daughter right after her; Hades would bet his stash of chocolate that Mal’s full name was just Maleficent.

At least Hades had been original.

-

Throughout the next couple of years, as Mora-Mal. Grew up, Hades kept out an eye on her; just out of sight from her and just barely stepping in if any of the older people of the isle, who had…less than ideal moral compasses, got any ideas about his daughter.

A few times he tried to go up to her, but each time she saw him she either ran away in fear, or stared him down with no spark of familiar want or recognition.

So he kept away, respecting her non-verbal wishes and leaving Mal to herself.

It didn’t stop him from trying to keep her safe. He left her food on the nights Maleficent or her goons forgot, never charged her when she came into his restaurant, was never harsh with her. Some of the other villains got curious at his gentleness with Mal but quickly shut up with a spark of red in his eyes. He might’ve lost his magic but he was still a god.

-

Hades watched from the shadows as Mal and her three ‘friends’ climbed into the limo, the son of Hook and son of Gaston climbing in alongside them. Mal looked up at Maleficent, who did an odd gesture and Mal nodded, sliding in and closing the limo door behind her.

He followed the limo all the way to the bridge, watching his daughter leave the isle for the first time and go to Auradon. If she didn’t end up burning it down; he hoped she would have a good life away from her mother.

-

Over three years later, his son was chosen to go the Auradon by his sister, and Hades watched melancholy as Hadie packed his things; fiddling with the dull ember between his fingers. Hadie hefted his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his duffle bag, nodding at his dad; who stood and walked over to his son “stay safe” Hades muttered, pulling Hadie in for a side hug, his hand resting on the back of Hadie’s head. “say hi to your mother and sister for me?” Hadie nodded against him, using his free arm to squeeze Hades back, and turned on his heel, walking out of the mines.

-

Only an hour later Hades stood at the bridge plaza, ember in hand; pointing it at his daughter, who cried out in pain against the embers draining powers. He pulled back as much as he could, he needed to get out; he just couldn't do it anymore, the isle was hell and he needed to leave.

Mal screamed in pain again and Hades faltered, remembering her cries for him when Maleficent took her oh so long ago. But the girl besides Hook took his falter and rushed at him, slamming him back behind the barrier and walking back through it a moment later.

Hades growled to himself, he had failed his attempted escape and hurt his kid. He stood and walked away from the plaza, planning to stay in his lair for the rest of the week in shame.

-

It was just the next day when he saw his kids again, Hadie and Celia standing in front of him; giving the excuse of a forgotten bass and some delivered goods. But Mal wasn’t as quiet as she should've been, he grabbed her hand just as she grabbed the ember and pulled it from her grip, staring her down behind his sunglasses.

She meekly asked for the ember multiple times, and on the third time, he raised his brow, holding up the ember in the air as he looked down at his daughter “You’re only half Hades, the ember won't do everything for you that it does for me” Mal huffed and gestured to Hadie.

“Hadie’s gonna be the one to use it anyway, I just wanted-to…” Mal looked up at him wide-eyed and shocked, and Hades had a startling realization that Mal might have not known about him at all.

After a few minutes of Mal screeching about her mother’s lies and her not being able to understand how ‘she’ happened, she demanded the ember once more “if you wanna make up for being a lousy dad” ouch that stung, he didn’t mean to be one; he just was forced into that position “gimme the ember”

Hades gave Mal the ember and watched her walk out, sighing sadly as he realized he could’ve been there for Mal a long time ago if not for his stupid assumption. He warned her about the ember getting wet and she just pushed past him, Hadie sharing one last glance with him before following after her.

Hades sighed, collapsing back in his minecart turned chair and leaning his head back. So much for respecting her wishes as a child, she hadn’t even known he existed as her dad.

-end-

people who i want to read this cuz ahhhh ya know? 

@disneyfan50​

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[21burritoseavey]

Hahah sorry 😬I meant y/n as the reader and Daniel are in a secret relationship

hey! I'm sorry this took so long. It's a little unedited and long...and for what?? but anywaysss i hope you enjoy it i kinda went a little crazy.

Hollywood Fix (d.s.)

Daniel always loved to spend time with his girlfriend, but since Why Don’t We’s album release back in January, all of his effort went into making music at the studio. Out of sheer love and passion for creating, his thoughts would be filled with new song ideas or random melodies he hummed quietly before bed. Daniel and Y/n only met up sometimes throughout the past few weeks. Y/n was busy herself of course. With homework piling up (literally) and work right after school, she hardly had time to come over, and when she did it was for a little while. Daniel would notice her slightly less cheerful mood when they’d FaceTime before saying goodnight every night. He wanted to remind his girlfriend how much he loved her.

With his Friday night free of work, he made a reservation for dinner, sending Y/n a fake urgent message to surprise her when she’d come over that same evening.

Y/n, I need you please come over

The door burst open just ten minutes later. Y/n leaned her arm on the door handle, tired and breathless as she scanned the kitchen and living room. “Daniel!” She called; her voice wavered in panic. The eerie silence of the house only made her more anxious. Daniel was crouched behind the grey L-shaped sofa in the living room, biting back the giddy laughter that tried to fall past his lips. Kobe squealed and squirmed as he saw Y/n and Daniel tried his best to shush the puppy in his arms as he watched her quietly.

“Daniel? Where are you? You got me all worried!” She yelled again, kicking her shoes off at the door out of habit. She walked over to the counter to set her keys down and as she lowered her gaze, she noticed Daniel’s phone sitting on the tabletop, readily showing the confirmation email for his reservation at the restaurant he’d talked about on their nightly call the night before.

Daniel lingered behind the couch a little longer than intended just to see her neutral lips curve into a toothed smile and he let Kobe leap out of his arms when he stood up. “Surprise!” He shouted happily, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Y/n shot back in surprise, wide eyed and open mouthed. After a few seconds of trying to wrap her mind around the fact her boyfriend was standing right there, she ran into his arms with a squeal, pressing her hand to her mouth as she giggled. “Dani!” She exclaimed, snuggling into his warm embrace. “I missed you!”

“Hey, my love.” Daniel kissed the top of her head. He dropped the flowers onto the couch and smoothed out the wisps of her hair with his free hand soothingly. “I missed you too.” He said quietly, learning back to press a few soft kisses to her lips.

Y/n stepped back and smacked his shoulder playfully, her joyous expression veiled with annoyed furrows. “You scared me, you dummy! No wonder that text was sketchy.” She tisked.

“Hey! I had to think quick, okay?” Daniel defended. He pulled her back into a tight hug and Y/n let them linger in each other’s arms for a moment before rushing over to the flowers she glanced at.

The bouquet of tulips slipped slightly in the brown paper wrapping, as fresh and soft as the sunset that bloomed outside. Y/n looked down at them fondly. Her fingers stretched out to touch the petals and she stared up at Daniel with a pout on her lips. “These are so pretty,” She pressed a hand to her heart and wobbled on the tips of her toes to give Daniel a kiss. He gladly accepted, sliding his arms around her waist and dipping her down just a little to kiss her deeper.

---

“Thanks for taking me out, Daniel. I needed this.” Y/n said sweetly, squeezing her grip of his hand as they sauntered down the footpath. He looked beside him and gave Y/n a warm kiss on the cheek, “don’t thank me yet," he whispered into her ear.

Daniel made a reservation at a newly opened restaurant downtown and as soon as he finally told Y/n, she ran to her brand new, emerald dress she hadn’t even touched yet, nearly ecstatic that she’d finally have an occasion to wear it. Daniel thought her excitement was cute, and on their extra slow walk to the restaurant - just to savour each other's presence - he complimented and flirted with her every chance he could. Teasing glares, blushing cheeks and light chatter filled their walk, until Y/n noticed...a crowd of people in the distance, near the restaurant’s entrance. She’d thought that they were merely there for dinner, since the place just opened and all, but they seemed like they...were waiting. Suddenly, it seemed all too familiar. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and peered at the large cluster of people through a narrowed gaze. Daniel stood beside her, confused. Y/n heard the high-pitched screams of what must’ve been excited fans and saw their small signs held up by flailing arms.

“Is that Hollywood Fix?” Y/n asked, gently tugging at Daniel’s hand.

Daniel met her gaze. His white button up shirt rose and fell with the soft evening breeze that murmured along the lit-up trees around them. “Very funny, Y/n.” He tisked.

“No, seriously. Look over there” Y/n shot her hand up to point at the bright blinks of light getting closer and closer.

Daniel lifted his gaze, noticing the black exterior of the cameras peeking through the mass of people. “Wh-what? What do we do?” Daniel paused in thought for a second, “Should we hide?” He puckered his eyebrows towards his girlfriend.

“No, you dummy!” Y/n slapped his arm. “Just let go of my hand...” She spoke gingerly, unravelling her fingers from his and she stepped further to the side of the footpath, “and... we’ll just have to stand further apart.”

Daniel nodded after a few seconds and wrung his hands nervously. “Okay, okay. Act natural.” He cleared his throat and raked a hand through his hair.

“You call that natural…” Y/n giggled, pressing a manicured hand to her mouth.

Daniel glared at her with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Baby-” He started, only to get cut off by the sound of photos and fans right in front of him.

The interviewer nearly ran into Daniel in excitement. “Hey, Daniel! How’s it going dude?” He spoke with a sort of enthusiastic haste, shoving the microphone just below his chin as he waited for an answer. Y/n walked backwards to follow behind the both of them. She left a decent space between the two young men who talked. She was silent.

“It’s going well,” Daniel started, “how are you?”

“I’m great. What’s going on with the band? Any music coming soon?” The interviewer pulled a grin towards Daniel as they both weaved through the group of young people. Multiple camera guys walked backwards behind them too, catching every word that Daniel uttered through the mic. Daniel paused at times to give a fan a hug, or take pictures and sign autographs, but Y/n kept her distance. She walked silently down the walkway.

“Yeah, yeah. You know, we’ve got some stuff ready..” Daniel shrugged with a cheeky smile.

“Anyone with you tonight, or…?” The interviewer piped up. Y/n couldn’t help but lift her gaze at the question and she turned to Daniel to hear his reply.

Y/n hoped with everything in her that he’d say the truth, what they both wanted to finally tell the world but felt too scared or anxious to say. She, at times, loved the secrecy of their relationship. It was freeing not to worry about what his fans would think, but at the same time, it felt almost humiliating, like she was a dirty secret that his management didn’t want to crawl out his band’s perfect boyband image.

Daniel looked towards the interviewer with a toothy smile and bowed his head as he racked his brain for a lie. He stuttered out a “Nah...n- not right now, the band should be here soon though.” and let a strained smile play on his lips.

Y/n gulped hard at his words and dropped her gaze to her feet walking over the cracks of the footpaths, precariously trying not to step on them. It was a little game she always played when she was nervous. Daniel and the interviewer exchanged conversation while Daniel continued meeting his fans. Y/n tried to plaster on a friendly smile as they talked just in case she might appear in the frame, but after a few long moments, she let her lips droop into a frown.

She quickened her pace and slipped past them with an expressionless glare that wandered anywhere but them. Daniel noticed her but shrugged it off, watching her walk to the host stand.

The autumn sky met Y/n’s gaze. It was the perfect shade of orange, coloured by the slanting rays of the setting sun and she let her face soften at the sight of it. “It says here the reservation for Daniel Seavey is for two people?” The hostess glanced up.

Y/n drifted her head back towards the lady and smiled. “Yeah, he’ll be joining me later,” Y/n replied quietly. The hostess nodded and continued checking her in.

“Alright dude, we’ll see you later!” The interviewer shouted.

“Nice meeting you, bye!” Daniel couldn’t have been more thankful that the conversation finally ended. He let out a relieved sigh and studied the crowd for his girlfriend, but she had already disappeared through the doorway. He huffed and walked over to the host stand, mindlessly tapping his foot against the concrete as another couple checked in. The cameras kept filming from a few paces away until they watched him enter the restaurant.

On opening night, the restaurant was bustling and glowing with overlapping chatter and vibrancy. Fairy lights were strung along the ceiling and across the freshly painted walls. Y/n had made her way over to the table Daniel had booked. She smiled down at the vase of tulips that sat on the centre of the table and stuck at her fingers to pick one out and smell it.

“Y/n!” Daniel called through the loud room behind her. His voice startled Y/n and she popped the soft pink tulip back in the vase, watching it slip back into the water as Daniel settled into the seat across from her. “Hey, where’d you go?” He asked, panting slightly from rushing in so fast.

“I...” Y/n paused and thought about what she would tell him, but merely sighed and shook her head seconds later. “Nowhere, it’s fine.” She said, fidgeting with the gentle, green silk of her dress. “I’m just so hungry that I couldn’t wait.” She pulled a smile towards Daniel, but of course, he wasn’t fooled.

“Y/n,” He glared at her teasingly. “You could’ve waited for me,” he said gently.

“Oh and watch you lie about our relationship?” She murmured, lifting her glare to Daniel. “No thanks,” she unfolded the napkin a little too harshly and watched the petals of the flowers shake.

Daniel frowned towards her. “Lie? Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You lied Daniel... said you weren’t with anyone tonight.” she mumbled. Daniel opened his mouth to say something but the waiter behind Y/n walking towards the table stopped him.

“You know I can’t say that we’re together, Y/n.” Daniel whispered as the waiter lingered between them, pouring their glasses of water.

“I know, but you said you talked to management about it.” She lifted her gaze to Daniel and met his eyes with an equally upset expression.

Daniel stayed silent.

“You didn’t talk to them, did you?” Y/n asked.

Daniel sighed and leaned forward in his chair. “It’s not that simple, Y/n. You can’t have everything the way you want it.” He slid his hand across the table to tuck his hand in hers, but Y/n drew her arm back and dropped her gaze to the table. “Y/n,” he spoke gently. “Hey, listen to me,”

Y/n didn’t look up.

“My love, please, I planned this date so we could have fun, and not have to worry about all this other stuff.”

“It’s not just all this other stuff, Daniel. This is our relationship. Doesn’t it upset you that we can’t post about each other? Or that I can’t be there for you when you perform? Or that I can’t even be within 3 feet of you when we’re in public ‘cos your fans will go crazy?!” Y/n hadn’t realised how loud her voice had become until she received awkward glances from other customers. She leaned back in her seat and huffed. A roiling anger took root within her, and even though she tried to hide it, Daniel could see the tears pooling her eyes. They both took a few moments to calm down amidst the lively buzz of the restaurant.

“Yeah, it bothers me, Y/n. You’re right, I’ll try...and talk to them. You know, maybe they won’t agree at first but I’m not gonna give up, okay?” Daniel spoke up gently. Y/n nodded and let a small smile tug at the corners of her lips. She let their hands meet in the middle and intertwine.

“I love you...and we’ll find a way to figure this out, okay?” Daniel said, pulling a fake pout towards her. Y/n giggled lightly and pressed her fingers to the corner of her watery eyes carefully.

“M’kay...I love you.” Daniel leaned in again and held her face with his palm. Their noses bumped lightly before their lips met. They kissed, softly at first, then as Daniel turned Y/n’s head slightly, their kiss intensified, kindled by the heavy emotions released seconds ago and love that radiated from them, as strong and vivid as the warm lights surrounding them.

taglist: @chilling-seavey @marthagryffindor @randomlimelightxxx @hiya-its-amber @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @hackerXavery @jonahlovescoffee

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[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

              - David Bowie, Changes

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

    "You still craving fries?"

    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

     "Oh, yeah?"

    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

    "If," he continues. "you take me there."

    "Take you there?"

    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

    "Stuck forever?"

    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

    And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

    "How's your leg?"

    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

    He missed the way things were.

    He missed Y/n.

    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

    "I know, shrimp,"

    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

    "Y/n!"

    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"

    "Jesus! What do you need?"

    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

    To his relief, Y/n smiled.

    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

    "Thanks, Doctor K,"

     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

    "Really, it's okay,"

    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

    "I'll call you."

    There was hope yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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Dean Winchester: Miracle and Simon

Pairing: Dean W. x Wife!Reader Pov: Dean Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, Dean, dogs, talk of infertility, sadness, overall fluff, comforting Dean, Sam is mention. Summary: Y/n and Dean learn after a long time of trying for children that Y/n is unable to bare a child. With this news, they decide to wait. When Dean comes across two very cute pups how can Dean pass it up? Word Count: 2.3k A/N: Written for band-psychos 1.5 followers writing bingo challenge. This is sad, but good at the same time. By the way, I have absolutely no clue what it's like to be told that I won't be able to have children, so what I may say may be wrong. Also, I'm sorry if this is something that affects you. Square: First Pet

Dean Winchester Master List

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Tag list: @band--psycho @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69 @doctorlilo @fofisstilinski @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Month, turned into years of trying for a baby. It was okay in the beginning, but it turned into constant disappointment. Not disappointed in Y/n or myself. Just overall disappointment in the situation.

How we had been stripped of the ability to have kids. Y/n being stripped of the chance of being the best mother I know she can be. I felt more hopeless, and helpless than I had in any other part of my life.

My darling wife unable to bare a child, unable to be the most gifted thing in life. Unable to become a mother. That day was horrific, She cried in my arms and spent the drive back home in silence.

She stayed away, she had moved back into her old room. Forcing everything that we had built to be crushed. She pushed everything and everyone away.

It was horrible, she wore her ring still. Years of marriage, years of trying. Years of our life being shut out. Being put behind a wall because she felt as if she wasn't enough, wasn't worth being with.

There were nights of course I'd try and make conversation with her, but it always ended in silence, or in me talking enough for the both of us.

The few months that she pushed me away were the hardest, hearing the loud sobs echo through the halls. Not hearing her voice at all was the worst of it all, not being able to see the bright smile that used to blossom on her face was horrible.

So many things that I wish that I could change for her, so many things that I wish that I could make better. Better for her, better for me, but most importantly better for our relationship.

Finally one night.

Hearing a soft knock on my door, even with it being ajar. "Dean.. Can I come in?" Y/n asked, barely poking her head into my, our room. I was still a little confused on that one.

"Of course honey," I said pulling the bedspread back so if she wished she could climb into bed with me. She walked in slowly, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

She wore an old shirt of mine, sleep shorts, and her slippers. She looked just like she has always looked comfortable, but the look on her face was a displacement of how she looked. Her voice was white, heavy purple and black circles under her eyes, her face even looked a little bit too skinny.

Y/n say slipping her slippers off before climbing to the bed with me. "Hey." She said timidly like, "Hey baby," I said. During the time she had taken to be by herself, I had done more than enough research about what happened when women learned that they were infertile.

How they need space, or how they didn't like to be touched, how they could have outbursts of many different emotions. It's been five months and now Y/n's back in our bed. I'm hesitant to touch her, I think she can tell.

"Let me first say that"

"I missed you"

We spoke at the same time, speaking at the same was something that we always tended to do... God to hear her voice was amazing, like cutting butter so smooth and calming. She was so perfect to me no matter what was going on outside of this moment right now.

I smiled, and Y/n smiled back at me. It wasn't a full smile, but it was true and halfway there. "Do you want me to go first?" I asked not wanting to push her if she wasn't fully comfortable with it.

But if she wasn't comfortable with it then she wouldn't have come to my... our room and sat down next to her husband. Right? 'Stop asking so many questions.'

"If you want to Dean." She said her voice starting to waver. She's going to start crying, start talking Dean.

"I'm going, to be honest with you here. I don't know what to say.' Smiling afterward, ' I... I want you to know that you aren't alone in this, I know now that you needed your space, I want you to know that no matter what you think I don't blame you at all, not once. Because I'll forever love you. I've also been reading a lot,' Y/n was smiling now, raising her eyebrows at my reading comment. 'Anything for you Y/n you know that, but regardless I've been doing some reading on this situation, how this may affect us, you and myself. I just want you to know that I'm here for you." I said finally shutting my mouth.

She didn't look like she was going to cry anymore. Y/n was smiling a bright tooth-grinning smile. "You know Dean even when you don't know what to say you always manage to say the right thing, every single fuckin' time," She said through her smile.

Is it weird to say, but I know when Y/n is at her most happy because she curses. She spouts out every single bad curse word there is known to man. Just to tell you how happy she truly is.

God, I missed her smile. You don't realize just how much you miss something or even need it until it stops coming into your life and then comes back into your life a bullet.

I reached out to touch her, but I'm still hesitant. Very hesitant she most definitely saw that. When I went to take my hand back to my lap, she reached out grabbing my hand.

She's so soft, and her hands god how I've forgotten how much smaller her hands are to mine. Look at her hands, look at that ring, still shiny and glistening under the light of our room. That ring I think is what brought her back to me, no scratch that I think our love for each other is brought her back to me.

I had been looking for weeks after Y/n finally came back. Everything needs to settle down before I can even prompt the question to her. I want her to feel safe, I don't her to feel pressured or like I might be trying to replace the idea of children.

I again dived in and did the research for my idea. Sam even helped me, helped me to try and find the right one for her and me. Sam knows a lot of things but he especially knows this about me. When I do something I do it all the way, no half-assing anything and that only becomes ten times more when Y/n is thrown into the situation.

Doing the best research I could with the help of my brother of course. I found the best thing, not something I necessarily like the idea of but anything to help Y/n.

Anything for her.

They passed my screen, and before I knew it I was scrolling back up to them. In the loud and bold letter, it read.

These two come together, a pit bull and a golden retriever. Price is free, just come and pick them up today.

It just clicked, you ever have those types of moments. Where you can feel deep down in your mind, and body. Gosh, I'm really starting to get more and more like Sam.

I shouldn't say that because honestly, that's how it was for me when I first met Y/n. But that is most definitely a story for another time. I jumped from my seat sending the library chair to slide and then fall against the tile floor.

"Are you okay?" I heard Y/n's sweet voice ringing from behind me. 'Shit I forgot' "Yeah I'm fine, I just remember that I forgot to grab something when I was out earlier," I said, turning jamming my phone in my back pocket, calmly walking over to her, and kissing her temple saying bye.

I rushed, driving down the gravel road that leads to home sweet home. If nobody knew what I was doing they'd probably all think I was trying to get away from a murder that I just committed.

The drive to pups was silent. I'd driven baby so many times alone, but this time it just felt different. My impala was the first one parked, a few people close behind me. I rushed up to the fairly older man. He looked over my shoulder, he huffed before waving the other people off.

"Now listen heree son, I'm given' you 2 pups for nothing, so I don't want to hear anything." He said stepping down the porch and walking in front of me to the red broke down barn.

"They're in here. All yours." He said pulling back the door and then walking back to his barn house. Pointing in a very general area, there were 2 pups as the old man called them. Curled up into each other, 'cute' I thought to myself.

'I've already been gone for too long, hurry up Dean.' I said to myself. "Do they respond to commands? Like come, or no?" I asked as I slouched down to the height or near height of them. He hummed and said a few things under his breath.

"Come here," I said gently, just like if I were talking to Y/n. I know that as husband and wife you're supposed to talk about things before you just go outright and do them, but I kind of figured that Y/n wouldn't have any cons to having some furry children. It would most definitely take her mind somewhere else for the moment.

Waking them up from their shallow sleep, they were both wary at first, but grow to be giving me kisses had me rolling around on the dirty ground.

"Come on son!" The old man said. I jumped up from the ground dusting my clothes off and whistling for the dog's attention. "Let's go" They followed us out of the barn and chased after each other. There was no need for a transaction seeing as he just wanted them gone.

I whistled again, both chasing each other and coming to a fast stop in front of me. I was hesitant to let these pups in my baby, but anything for my girl, for her happiness, anything for her.

Both jumping up and finding a comfy spot and laying down. I speed back home, I'd already been gone for much longer than I originally wanted.

I once again speed down the gravel road heading to my home sweet home. Parking in the garage caused the pups to raise their heads. That being the first time, at least they don't complain about my driving like Sam does. That's rather nice.

I opened the back door and let both of them slip out. Yes at that moment I had realized that I had in fact told nobody of my plans, and I also had nothing to give them food-wise.

Letting them into the bunker they seemed to feel at home, but the more odd thing was that they didn't seem to care about anything other than finding Y/n.

An odd moment, it's like Sam said years ago sometimes animals can sense evil, so why can't they sense happiness or even sadness. I wonder?

The two of them led their own ways to the door of our bedroom. "Sit," I said quietly. They looked at each other and sat down, well actually they laid down.

I knocked and then came in seeing at it was also my room. "When'd you get back?" Y/n's honey slick voiced asked. "Just a few moments ago, love...." There was a comfortable silence between us, but Y/n always knows.

"What are you hiding Winchester?" She asked, pulling the sheets from her body. 'No don't get out of bed' "I need you to stay in bed for this surprise if you will." I said gesturing her to lay back down. " Be ready okay?" I said opening the door,

There sat a golden retriever and a pit bull. I heard her gasp "Dean?!". Behind me I saw the two dogs slowly sit up fully, they looked over at me, then over at Y/n.

I nodded and whistled. The pitbull was the first one to reach Y/n his nose nudging her arm. "Dean?" I heard again, so I turned I was smiling, the dog has already made a way onto her lap. "We.. are.. you." Y/n was most definitely stumbling over her words.

"Yes, they're ours. I thought that if we y'know. We could find a way to take care of something. I think he likes you, baby." I said walking all the way into the room having the golden following close behind me. "Yeah and I think she likes you, Dean." She said, patting the pits head.

"They need names," I said nodding to let the golden know that it was okay for her to jump up on the bed. I want my bed to remember them too, cause my bed is memory foam.

"Miracle and Simon. What do you think." Y/n said resting her hand on top of the pits head. "Whos who?" I asked, Y/n pointed at the dog taking up most of my lap, "That's Miracle" then moving and pointing over the sleeping pup in her lap snoring "This, sweet boy is Simon." She said a single tear falling down her cheek.

"What's wrong honey?" I asked "I know that I didn't even ask you if this was okay," I said worrying as more tears fall down her soft warm-toned cheeks.

"Nothing is wrong Dean, I just remembered that I wanted to maybe name our son Simon when we finally got pregnant." She said, I wiped her stray tears and said, "We've got our son and daughter just in fur version. And being together is enough for me." Kissing her forehead. A whispered, "Thank you Deanie Beanie." I rolled my eyes and kissed her forehead again.

Completed on: 05/24/2021

Posted on 05/25/2021

[onlyangelcas]

boats and a blue-eyed birthday boy

read on ao3

The boat won’t start, because that’s just Dean’s luck. His son is inside, celebrating his 4th birthday, and his surprise gift is malfunctioning right before the big reveal.

Ever since Dean, Cas, and Jack moved out of the bunker and into their cottage-style lake house, Jack had been obsessed with the water. He was enthralled by the lake, spending hours on the dock watching the fish swim by or dipping his feet in on warm days. Cas fueled his interest by purchasing every book and guide about lake-dwelling creatures and plants.

Jack’s obsession was pushed even further when their elderly neighbor had offered to take him fishing on his boat. From that moment on, boats became all the rage in the Winchester home. Books about boats moved in next to the lake books on Jack’s bookshelf, his cowboy themed bed sheets were swapped for a set adorned with tiny sailboats. Dean and Cas had to practically restrain him from pestering their neighbor for a boat ride everyday.

That’s how Dean found himself purchasing a repaired boat from some guy in southwest Minnesota. He had made the drive to pick up the boat a few weeks ago, it was relatively affordable, not a luxury speedboat or ridiculous pontoon, but perfect for about 6 people to climb on board for a day of fishing or relaxing on the water. Dean had made a plan with El, their elderly neighbor, to keep the boat stored in his garage until Jack’s birthday. El was happy to help, even took apart the motor to make sure everything was working and got it in the water that morning to surprise Jack.

Now, Dean is huffing over the damn thing, trying to decipher why it won’t start. Everyone else, including El, the only person that could actually help him, is inside trying to keep Jack distracted while Dean preps the boat.

“Shit,” Dean curses, after another failed attempt at turning the engine over.

He slams his forehead into the steering wheel, frustrated tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Four was the worst year of Dean’s life, for obvious reasons, and he wanted to make sure that Jack’s fourth year was everything that his wasn’t. He knows it’s stupid, to get this worked up over a freaking boat, but this boat was so much more than that. It was a promise to Jack that he would always be there, he would always love him. So if he’s a little emotional over the possibility that this boat will ruin his son’s very important 4th birthday, who can blame him?

Dean turns his face toward the sky, the sun peaking through the tree branches to warm his skin. He thinks this is a moment he would pray, if he had anyone to pray to. Considering his two favorite angels are already inside the house, it seems kind of arbitrary. Instead he just looks at the sky, watches puffy white clouds drift by lazily, and wonders pointlessly about what he did to deserve this.

“Looks like you could use some help.” Says a gravelly voice Dean instantly recognizes as belonging to El.

He runs a hand across his face, quickly wiping away any evidence of tears. “You think you can get this thing going?”

“I should have told you earlier, you got to give it some gas as you turn the key.” El says simply, nudging Dean out of the way before pressing his foot to the accelerator and starting the boat.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Dean declares, slapping a hand to the other man’s back. “I thought the day was ruined.”

El laughs, adjusting his trucker cap and turning to face Dean with a serious look. “Boy, you think this boat not running would have ruined the day?”

Dean cocks his head to the side slightly, a mannerism he’s picked up from Cas after all these years. “Would have been a bummer if Jack’s surprise tanked.”

“You coulda given that kid an old thing with a couple of paddles and he woulda been ecstatic.” El smiles, clapping his shoulder affectionately. “All he really wants is something to share with you.”

In moments like these, El reminds him of Bobby so much that it almost knocks the wind out of him. There’s a lump in Dean’s throat, he quickly turns his head toward the ground and lets out a wet laugh.

“You and Cas,” El starts again. “And I guess Sam helped out, too. You guys raised that boy right, he doesn’t need things to be happy, he just needs people.”

Dean looks up, his glossy eyes meeting El’s, he gives him a soft smile. “Now, how’s about we go get that kid and show him his gift.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs. “It’s showtime.”

El promises to keep watch of the boat while Dean jogs back up to the house. He pulls open the backdoor and immediately bumps into Kaia, who is looking at him guilty with her hands tight around Claire’s waist.

“Really? This is a birthday party for a 4 year old.” Dean attempts to scold, but there’s no real heat to it.

“Sorry!” Kaia yells as Claire says, “Who died and made you a patron saint?”

Dean laughs loudly at that, pressing a kiss to the side of Claire’s head as he passes. He makes his way into the kitchen, where Sam and Eileen are putting the finishing touches on Jack’s birthday cake.

Where’s Cas? He signs when Eileen catches his eye.

Living room. She signs back, giving him a warm smile.

He can hear Rowena’s laughter filling the room before he even steps over the threshold. She’s standing to the side of the living room, deep in conversation with Jody and Donna. Jack is on the floor with Alex, talking animatedly while he secures one of her braids with a bright pink hair tie. Jack’s wearing a red cowboy hat with a t-shirt that says ‘This is my 4th rodeo’, the shirt was Cas’ idea, along with the matching ‘Jack’s 4th Rodeo’ shirts that everyone in attendance is adorning.

Cas is perched on the sofa, watching Jack and Alex with a fond look in his eyes. Dean slides his hand across Cas’ shoulders and bends down to plant a sweet kiss against his lips. “It’s go time.”

Cas smiles excitedly as Dean sticks his hands under Jack’s armpits and pulls him to his feet. He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves a bandana that he begins to fasten over Jack’s eyes.

“Alright everyone, it’s time for Jack’s big surprise.” Dean says as he secures the bandana around Jack’s head. “Head out to the backyard so we can show our birthday boy his present.”

Everyone files out the backdoor and into the yard behind the house. Dean and Cas each take one of Jack’s hands in their own, leading him toward the dock.

“Okay buddy,” Cas says once the three of them reach the rocky shoreline, the rest of their family gathered behind them. “You ready?”

“Yes! I’m ready!” Jack nearly squeals.

Sam has his phone out, no doubt recording the moment so no one ever forgets it, as if they ever would.

“Everyone countdown with me,” Dean says, reaching for the bandana.

“Three… two… one!” The group counts off in unison as Dean releases the bandana in one swoop.

Jack stands there slack-jawed and in awe for a moment, clearly overwhelmed by the sight in front of him. “A boat?” He asks more than states.

“Yeah, baby, it’s for you.” Dean says, a little confused by the 4 year old’s reaction.

Jack turns to him and Cas, his hands still holding tightly onto theirs. “Our boat?”

“Yeah, Jack, your daddy picked it out for us.” Cas states, running a hand through Jack’s hair.

Jack releases both of their hands then, throwing his arms around Dean’s neck so aggressively that he tumbles from his crouched position onto his butt. “Thank you daddy!”

Dean buries his face into Jack’s neck, hiding his suddenly teary eyes, and says, “Happy birthday kiddo.”

Jack pulls away and places his small hands on the sides of Dean’s face before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I love you daddy.”

Dean huffs a wet laugh, looking over Jack’s shoulder to see his family watching with eyes as shiny as his own.

“I love you more, Jack.” He says, smacking an equally sloppy kiss to his forehead. “Now, how ‘bout we take it for a spin?”

“Papa too?” Jack asks, eyes lighting up.

Dean looks up at Cas, who has tears slipping unashamedly down his cheeks, and smiles. “Yeah, papa too.”

After they get Jack secured in his life vest, he takes his spot at the front of the boat, kneeling on the seat and leaning precariously over the edge to watch the boat carve through the water. Cas is seated next to him, one hand looped tightly in the back of his life vest, and Dean is at the wheel. The sun is setting over the horizon, reflecting off the lake and painting them in a picture-perfect orange glow.

Jack looks back at Dean, his blonde hair curling slightly from the spray of the boat, his gap-toothed smile is wide and unapologetic. Cas is looking at him, too, affection and love spilling over every feature, his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin.

“I hope I can be 4 forever!” Jack yells, letting out a wild laugh as Cas reaches over to tickle his neck.

Dean knows, somewhere in the back of this mind, that he should be worried that Jack is getting older. One day he’ll grow up, probably move away, and their house will no longer be littered with plastic sailboats and tiny socks discarded around every corner. At this moment, though, he can’t find it in himself to worry. Jack won’t be 4 forever, but he’s sitting in front of Dean with a smile like sunshine, toothy and perfect, laughing raucously, unashamed in his joy, and that will always be enough.

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 2/?

Story Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes? A/N: Thank you all for the amazing response to the first chapter! This one came quickly and I just couldn't stop writing it! I can’t believe people asked to be tagged in this already, but I guess if you want to be tagged, let me know in the comments! shoutout to @candlesandsoftrain for beta-ing! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: So much tension, mildly grumpy Spencer, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 7000+ (Sorry it really got away from me!)

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

The rest of the day passed by with a lot of questions, a lot of pilfered off paperwork from each member of the team- it was your turn to help out with all there was to do today. Newbie had to be inducted somehow. Reid was the only one that didn’t offer you any of his- it probably had something to do with the fact that even though his pile was significantly larger than anyone else’s, he was getting through it almost at triple the speed. Dad had mentioned something about his quick reading skills, but you couldn’t remember the exact number of words he could read a second. That was a question you could ask him later, you reminded yourself.

Once Hotch’s voice sounded through the room signaling that it was time to head out for everyone, you could feel the energy in the room change. It was palpable. They clearly hadn’t gotten a chance to have a fun time with each other in a while.

You stood up and gathered your things slowly, letting everyone slowly filter out of the office. You had decided that you wanted to keep Dad's notebook in your go bag so you’d always have him with you on cases, but now as you had a moment alone, you slipped an old family picture of Dad, Stephen and yourself into your desk drawer, hiding under your files and paperwork. A little piece to always be here, in the bullpen, where he belonged.

You wiped a tear from your eye, and as you grabbed your bag to get going, you noticed Spencer watching you from the door. You smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry, you didn’t have to wait for me. I just… wanted to take in the end of my first day. I’ve been waiting for this day a very long time. Didn’t think it would be quite this… uneventful, as far as BAU standards go, but I’m actually glad it was.” You said to him as you got closer, noticing him clutching his messenger bag.

Shrugging, he held the door open for you. “It’s not a problem. They get horse blinders when they finally get to go out together and forget that maybe some people don’t know where to go.” He pushed the button for the elevator. In this moment, you remembered what you’d said about comfortable silence. It was nice to be here with him, the hum of the AC around you, the sound of Spencer picking at something at the strap on his bag. You closed your eyes for a moment and took it all in… you could smell his cologne, he was so close to you. And something very reminiscent of… old books? He really must live in an apartment just surrounded by books.

“Thanks for waiting for me. I probably would have just called Unc-” You stopped yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. “Dave, if I got left behind. Since trying to go home would have resulted in being yelled at by him for a while.” You both entered the elevator, and he turned and looked at you as he pressed the button to go down to the ground floor.

“Dave?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

You blushed, shrugging. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good family friend… through my mom. They knew each other when they were young.” God, you hated lying, but it was only a little bit of a lie. Your mom and Rossi DID know each other well, and they have known each other a long time. But Uncle Dave wasn’t a part of your circle because of your mom.

Spencer looked like he noticed the slight change in your tone, but he was polite enough not to press you for more. “Okay So the bar- it’s called The Greasy Pub and it’s on 7th. I’ll meet you there? I take the bus, so I’ll be a little later than everybody else.” He said, shifting his weight from side to side on his feet.

Your brows knit together, and you looked at him a little confused. “Why didn’t you hop in with someone else?”

The cutest blush stained his cheeks. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can remember what it felt like to be the new kid on this team like it happened yesterday. I hope to never let anyone feel the anxiety and fear of being left out like I did. I was also only 24 at the time, and was the youngest BAU member ever, so that didn’t help.”

More touched than you could lead on, you touched his bicep and squeezed it. “Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you. I feel bad though, you lost a ride with one of your friends. Would… would you like a ride in my car? I’d hate for you to have to take the bus. I hated the bus when I had to take it. Did you know that out of all the bacteria found on New York City public transport, 32 per cent was associated with the gastrointestinal tract and 30 per cent was skin. Another 20 per cent was associated with the genital area.” You rattled off. Germs were a thing for you too, you just dealt with it and constantly washed your hands.

To say Spencer looked impressed would be an understatement, and the way his eye changed when you caught it… wow, you’d never felt a heat rage in your tummy like that look made you feel.

“It was actually 29 percent skin, mostly assumed to be hair follicles and from people scratching at anything itching them.” He said with a glint in his eye. You didn’t feel challenged, just… understood? And seen. “But yeah… I wouldn’t mind a ride, if you wouldn’t be opposed.”

You led him to where you parked once the elevator dinged, and you both got in and buckled up. Your favorite artist’s music immediately started playing, a lot of favorites from people who you’ve loved- you collected things that reminded you of those that were special to you.

You drove in comfortable silence, and though you both kept looking at eachother out of the corner of your eyes, neither of you said much. You’d never felt such automatic attraction to someone before. Could your view be skewed after so many years of stories and imagining him? Possibly. But the reality was so much better than your imagination ever could have put together.

When you arrived, Spencer led you both inside the bar, opening the door for you. It was immediately a sensory overload for you both, and you shifted a little closer to him subconsciously to quell your discomfort. His hand found its way to the small of your back, just the smallest touch, and you could have died right then and there. It was electric and somehow so soothing. You felt your breath even out, and your anxiety fall back like a distant memory. You looked up at him and smiled softly, finding he was already looking at you. Your eyes fell to his lips, which were the loveliest shade of pink and parted just a little, his tongue coming out to wet them as if they sensed the attention. You could have just leaned in a few inches… you just needed to get on your tip toes and you’d be right there…

“Pretty Boy! Y/N! We’re over here, little lovebirds!”

“Morgan, leave them alone!”

You snapped out of your reverie when you heard the voices of Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss, the latter hitting the former in the arm yet again today. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, clearly used to the antics of his friends, but you were more or less a little red over it all. You were letting this little crush you had on the genius get a little too obvious, and you definitely needed to pull it back a little before you made a fool of yourself.

The two of you walked to the booth the others sat at, Emily and JJ and Garcia on one side, Rossi and Morgan on the other. Morgan got out and grabbed a loose chair from a table, pulling it up and sitting in it, gesturing to the open two spots for you two to take.

Sliding in next to Rossi, he gave you a look that you pointedly tried to ignore. “You all seem to have drinks already. Couldn’t wait for us?” You teased.

“Not when the lovebirds took so long!” Derek responded, making you roll your eyes. “What can I get for you two, pretty boy and girl?” He added, offering himself up for waiter service.

“Can… can I get a glass of moscato? I’ve always been a sweet wine kinda girl. It’s gentle and actually enjoyable, unlike most alcohol.” You requested, making Emily snort.

“Ohhh, a few weeks working with me and I’ll break you of that mindset. Alcohol is amazing. All of it. We’re going to do so many shots, you’re not going to be a lightweight for long! Derek, she would like a margarita… and for little miss “sweet tooth”, have the bartender add a little grenadine?”

You snickered. “Funnily enough, you just hit the nail on the head! Whenever anyone tries to make me drink drink, that’s almost exactly what I order. I usually just go light on the tequila.”

“DEREK! MAKE IT A DOUBLE!” That made the whole of the group laugh out loud, including yourself. You knew you were in for quite a night.

“What about you, Boy Sweet Tooth?” Derek prodded, poking Reid in the side of the face. He, in turn, swatted at Derek’s hand.

“I’ll take a Shirley Temple, thanks.” He said, ignoring the giggling from around him.

“Y/N, do you also take 5 pounds of sugar in your coffee like Spence over here?” JJ piped up. You caught on to the Spence and filed that away to ask someone about later. You… weren’t a fan of how lovingly she was looking at him, but couldn't decipher if it was sisterly affection or… well, the way you looked at him. You could swear you felt Emily looking at you like she could read your mind, and you decided that when the time came to ask some questions, you’d ask her.

“I actually am not the biggest fan of coffee. I drink a lot of energy drinks though.” You responded, earning a laugh from the team.

“That’s even worse!” Garcia said. “That’s even more sugar than Reid!”

Spencer nodded from your side, the movement making you suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were sitting. “Monster energy contains 28 grams of sugar per 8.4-ounce.” He said. “Which is much more than my cup of coffee, thank you all very much.” He smirked, looking down at you. He also seemed to suddenly realize how close you were sitting, then. He looked down at your thighs pressed together under the table and almost maybe tensed up a little bit? But then he noticed you smiling at him, biting your lip, and he relaxed, just in time for Derek to come back with the drinks.

“One sugary mess for Y/N and one for Pretty Boy.” Gladly accepting your drink, hoping it would calm down your rapidly increasing heart rate, you took a big gulp of it.

“So, Y/N,” Garcia started, “What brings you to the BAU? Did you have posters of Rossi and Gideon as a kid when they started it?”

You forced out a laugh, the sudden vocalization of your father’s name making tears prick your eyes, but Rossi was quick to distract them for you. “Are you kidding? Y/N’s taste is way too good for this old bag of fleas. Besides, she wasn’t born for another 15 years or so, right, Y/N?”

Nodding, his joke had given you enough time to pull yourself together. “Rossi has been a good friend of my family for a long time, and I was always interested in what he did. I looked up to him like he was a superhero, and when the time came to decide on what I wanted to do for a living, I guess I wanted to be the superhero I always grew up around.” You smiled at him, earning a proud grin back.

“How long have you two known each other?” Emily pressed, interested.

“Long enough. He… went to school with my mom, I think? At least, they were friends for a long time before I was born, and he’s just… always been around. Not many kids grow up with THE David Rossi sitting in their living room and telling real ghost stories on babysitting nights.”

Morgan perked up. “How old are you anyways?” He said it in such a way, you almost felt like you were being hit on. You were pretty sure it was just the way he was, because no one even batted an eye at his tone except for Garcia, who smacked him playfully from her seat beside him at the end of the booth, to which he wrapped his arm around her lovingly.

“27. Older than I look, I know. Everyone always thinks I’m a complete baby, but I’m a little more worldly than that. As to your question earlier Garcia, I’ve always wanted to be a profiler. To me, you guys have capes and costumes and fight the bad guys. I… wanted to do that too. And I was always told I have the gut for it- I’m highly empathetic, and I read a lot so I can understand what’s going on in other people’s brains to better get how the thought process of humans works. I worked really hard and never let anyone know that-” you took a breath, Rossi looking at you, “-that I knew Rossi. I wanted to make it of my own merit. I wouldn’t even tell Rossi or Hotch that I was planning on the Academy until I was well on my way to graduating. I didn’t want anyone’s influence in how I did or how far I got. You should have seen the look on my friends faces when they saw his name on the graduation speech list. And the looks they gave me when he pulled me in for a hug upon handing me my diploma? Might have been my favorite part of graduation!” You laughed, enjoying the memory, even if it was tainted with a lot of bittersweet feelings.

The night went by, and it was a lot more fun than you thought it was going to be. Your nerves dissolved with every sip of liquor you consumed, and by your third drink, the whole thing almost didn’t seem surreal anymore. You were actually here, a member of the BAU, out to drinks with Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid. Your father talked about these people, you knew these people better than most first day members…

“Never have I ever!” Emily yelled, making you and Spencer shake your heads. “Awwwww come on, I wanna get to know the new girl on a deeper level! A dirtier level! Pleaaaaase Y/N?” Okay, so yeah, Spencer was definitely your new work crush, but Emily was trying very hard to be a close second. That little pout she was doing was so cute, and the drunk lilt to her voice was adorable.

“I… I don’t know.” You said, your anxiety fighting to take center stage, despite how comfortable the tequila was making you. “S-Sure.” You didn’t want to be the negative nancy of the night that ruined everyone's fun. You didn't notice you had started picking at your nails until you felt a soft touch, Spencer's warm hand ghosting over yours, and as you caught his eye, you knew he was in the same boat you were… especially when Derek's voice broke the moment. It was almost like Spencer was psychic in that moment. His eyes predicted it.

“What about you, Pretty Boy? You never play with us.” He teased, pinching his face, and then looking at you. “Baby Genius doesn’t like to play with us because he’s afraid of us finding out how few things he’s done.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m 35 years old!” Spencer whined, a little like a petulant child. “And I am not afraid. I just think this game is dumb and just a means to find out dirty things about your coworkers personal lives, which is a very weird thing to want to know about if you ask me!” He defended, and you had to agree, though you didn’t do so out loud.

“Never have I ever…” Emily started, and then paused and laughed. “I’m so bad at these, I can never think of things I haven’t done!” She took a sip of her drink and when it seemed like she was never going to come up with something, JJ finally pitched one in.

“Never have I ever been in a threesome.” Emily groaned. “What? It’s not my fault that you’re a horndog! I’m a one man kinda lady.” JJ smirked and shrugged. Emily rolled her eyes and put a finger down, taking another sip of her drink. Derek, Garcia and Rossi all joined her, making you almost gag.

“Guys I already hate this, I did NOT need to know that about Rossi!” You say, taking a huge gulp of your drink, hoping tequila would wash away that moment from your memory forever.

Derek kicked your foot under the table lightly. “Don't worry, Pretty Lady. Just think about me in a threesome and your mind will be put at ease from the pain of thinking about Rossi. It’s a much prettier picture, I promise you that.”

You blushed, because yes, that was a much prettier picture. “Okay, that’s fair, I accept that.” You heard and felt some shuffling next to you, and saw out of the corner of your eye Reid looking uncomfortable. And… sad? No, why would he look sad?

Rossi went next, on your right. “Never have I ever been intimate with a man.”

You rolled your eyes. That was an easy one, of course he’d go with that. To your surprise, everyone at the table besides Rossi put a finger down and took a sip, including you. You almost spit yours out when you saw Reids finger go down, but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe… had you been wrong about his flirting with you? His proximity and his touches… maybe… maybe he was…

“NO WAY. DEREK, REALLY?” Garcia suddenly shrieked. Derek laughed and shrugged. “A man has needs, and when a woman demands something special, well, you make it happen. Besides, I’m not above admitting that there are some attractive men out there. Derek has an open mind.” He smirked and took another sip.

All four women at the table stared at him in awe. “God, that’s hot.” Emily said out loud, voicing the thoughts of everyone looking at Derek.

“Exactly the reason Derek has an open mind, beautiful ladies. I know what women want.” He said, looking like the cat who got the cream.

Now it was your turn, and you… you had to know. “Never have I ever been with a woman intimately.”

Everyone at the table laughed and put a finger down, and you watched as Reid did too. The relieved breath that came out of you after that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t until he looked at you, concerned that something was wrong. You just smiled and hid how absolutely thrilled you were that he might still like you some kind of way.

Emily looked properly offended. “Oh, we need to change that. I don’t think anyone should miss out on the experience of a beautiful woman.”

“Oooh, Prentiss, are you offering?” Derek joked, laughing. “I’d watch that.” He eyed you both, making clear implications.

You were about to make a comment back, but before you could Spencer beat you to it. “Shut up, Derek.” Everyone froze, looking at Reid in shock. “Just because Garcia is okay with your sexual harassment, doesn’t mean you should be treating a new teammember that way. That’s not the way you should talk to people you barely know. She’s a human being.”

The whole team was unmoving. You turned and looked at them both, and you reached under the table and put your hand on Reids. He was shaking. “I actually… I would be open to being with a woman, I’ve just never had an opportunity. I’m… I’m not against any kind of experience. Try anything twice, in my opinion. Never know if the first time sucked because of the partner or if you actually just don’t like it.”

Everyone moved their shocked looks over at you now, before JJ piped in. “Y/N is full of surprises apparently. A little bi-curious, huh? Emily is going to take turning you from innocent lightweight to experienced day drinker as a personal challenge now.”

The rest of the group tried to shake off Reid’s outburst, but it definitely still hung in the air. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice his heartbeat speeding up in your hands when you mentioned being interested in women. Men were so typical. Even smart ones, clearly.

“Your turn.” You squeezed his hand before taking it away a moment later. You were still scared of over doing it. You barely knew each other, no matter how you felt like you’d known each other for years… he’d just met you. Yes, he was… weirdly okay with your touch, but you were really trying not to get too excited about that.

“Never have I ever…” He thought, taking a moment to think about it. Derek looked like he wanted to make some kind of comment, but also looked like he was thinking better of it. “Never have I ever been in love.” He said, eyes down on his drink. Everyone drank and put a finger down… except for the two of you. You could feel him looking at your hands, how your fingers hadn’t changed, and you almost wanted to scream but today is making me think that love at first sight is real and not just in Disney movies. But you kept it in, because you’re sure if you said it, you’d end up trying to kiss him and that was not appropriate.

The private moment between the two of you was broken then, Derek moving right along with the game. “Never have I ever had a thing for someone more than 5 years older than me.”

You wished you had something to throw at him. Every one of you put your fingers down, except the two boys at the end of the bar. Rossi snickered as he sipped his drink. “You’re missing out, son. Older women are incredible. Mature. Worldly.”

“And older men?” Prentiss added, to which the girls on either side of her made agreeing noises. “Well, let’s just say there’s a reason there’s such a thing as a daddy kink.”

You chuckled and sipped your drink before adding in, “Or a professor kink.” Everyone made noises of approval at that.

“Y/N is kinky! You had a thing for your professors in college?” Garcia laughed, and it was such an infectious sound, you couldn’t even try to be embarrassed, you just wanted to join her laughter.

“Not really, but I’ve always liked the idea of it.” You blamed the tequila for making your mouth move right now. “But I’ve always loved the idea of an older man in a little nerdy professor outfit who seems so uptight and so innocent keeping me late after class and teaching me a lesson, I guess.”

“Okay, I think we’re even now, kid. You know things about me you never wanted to know… and now I know things about you that I could have gone my whole life not knowing, thank you very much.” Rossi had quite the look on his face, and it made you giggle. You were so distracted by him, you didn’t notice Spencer’s demeanor change.

“Reid? What’s the matter?” JJ asked, concern lacing her voice. You turned and saw what she saw, a dark look having fallen over his usually soft features. You were reaching your hand out to touch his hand when he stood up rather abruptly.

“I’ll be right back.” He wasted no time running to where you could only assume was the bathroom.

“What crawled up his butt?” Garcia asked, laughing and leaning on Derek. “Oooh! It’s my turn! We’ll just catch him up when he gets back. Never have I ever sent anyone a nude!” She said, making everyone at the table groan except for you. After they all took a sip, they looked at you like you’d somehow betrayed them by not being guilty of the same thing.

“Oh come on, really, Garcia and Y/N? It’s the 21st century! You’re telling me you’ve never had someone far away that you’ve wanted to get all hot and bothered?” JJ said, starting to slur just a little. “Come on. With our jobs? I’m a married woman who never gets to see my hot husband… technology of today is an amazing help for that.”

You shrugged. “I’m not against it or anything. I’ve just… never had anyone who I wanted to send something like that to. Besides, I was raised to fear the idea of anyone getting any of my info online, so I’ve always been more on the careful side when it comes to that.” Your mom and dad had always been very- open, to say the least, about the dangers of predators online. So you’d never really gone through that rebellious teen phase, knowing what could actually happen if you did.

Garcia nodded. “Guys, I’m a tech genius, and I am… well, a little famous online because of my hacking skills. I’m not giving anyone access to this gorgeousness unless they are right in front of me.”

“Y/N, you’ve never had anyone you’d send a teasing picture to or something? Just to get them going and play that really hot game of ‘back and forth’ with?” Emily asked, gesturing to her empty drink, pouting at Derek, who relented and got up to get new drinks for everyone.

“No… I’ve been so focused on school and my career, and no one ever stood out like that for me before.” Spencer reappeared like magic, suddenly by your side again, sadly further away than before. You missed his warmth already, but tried to shake the thought out of your mind. You’d literally just met this guy this morning.

“Welcome back Genius boy, we’re talking about nudes! Have you ever sent nudes to a special someone?” Garcia prodded, her alcohol drowning brain not understanding the idea that maybe he wasn’t interested in playing anymore.

“N-No. I haven’t.” He said, playing with his hands on his lap. You wanted to reach out and take his hand, lace your fingers together and let him play with your fingers instead of his own.

“Me neither! Neither has Y/N- we’re all such good kids. The rest of you are all naughty and strangers have absolutely seen your junk!”

Emily smiled at you and looked over at Spencer, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is it your hatred towards technology or are you just shy?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a bit of both. I’ve… never had someone I had a desire to, well, send pictures of myself to. There’s a large level of trust that goes into that. Trust that it’ll remain private, trust that they would l-like what they see…” His eyes fell to his lap and you could have cried for how unsure he looked of himself.

Derek returned with drinks, one for you too even though you hadn’t finished yours yet. “Aww, Pretty Boy, anyone who would be lucky enough to get one of your nudes better consider themselves lucky. I don’t call you pretty boy for nothin’.” He mussed Reid’s hair again, but this time, Spencer didn’t seem to mind. Some of his tension slipped away, and you felt yourself relax too. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you could start in on the new one, the world starting to get a little topsy turvy. How many drinks had they put in front of you so far?

It was Emily’s turn, but she couldn’t for the life of her come up with something she hadn’t done, so she demanded the game end and they moved on to just bothering each other with questions. An hour passed by faster than you realized, and by the time you’d finished the drink Derek had put in front of you, you were more than a little sloppy. You were putting most of your weight on Spencer, your head feeling like it weighed 100 pounds as it drooped onto his shoulder. His mood seemed to improve over the time since he went to the bathroom, and he’d been shifting closer to you as you’d been doing to him. You were thigh to thigh again, and your arms were pressed together from shoulder to wrist. You drunkenly stared at your hands, laying side by side on each of your thighs, trying to use some kind of dormant magic inside of you to pull his hand to yours.

“I think Y/N’s had enough, tonight, guys.” Rossi’s voice filled your ears. You were too busy trying to focus on the scent of Spencer to care to listen. The bar was overwhelming your senses again, and you were trying to ground yourself in Spencer’s familiar warmth and smell. “We should probably get going before someone ends up in someone else’s lap.” He added, making the rest of your (very drunk) team laugh. “Who’s in my car and who else can drive?”

“I drove here but I don’t think I should drive.” You piped up, pulling your keys from your purse and putting them on the table.

“I-I’ll drive Y/N home.” Spencer said quickly, trying to ignore the hooting from the rest of the team at the offer.

“I’m going with them!” Emily and JJ yelled at the same time. Garcia and Derek’s mouths hanging open as they seemed to be about to say the same thing.

The latter two mumbled under their breath, damning Emily and JJ for “stealing the seats to the show” and both agreed to go with Rossi.

Reid helped you out of the booth, arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you standing up. You tried to pull away, embarrassed that you needed so much help, but he just held you closer. “Don’t worry, Y/N.” His breath ghosted over your ear and made you shiver. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

“I already have…” You said quietly, your drunk brain not knowing you’d whispered out loud. You focused on his smell and his touch, the way the warmth from his side and his hands set your skin on fire. Your embarrassment was a thing for future Y/N to worry about, because present Y/N was enthralled with the man helping you to the car.

After saying goodnight to the other three, JJ and Emily poured themselves into the back of your car, Spencer helping you into the passenger seat. He got into the drivers seat and chuckled as he watched you fight with the seat belt. “Let me help you, please.” He said, still laughing lightly, and you pouted, but relented. His hands brushed yours as they took the buckle, and he brushed your hip as he locked you in place. Every time he touched you, you could swear you felt shocks of electricity go through you.

“Speeeeeence, can you help me buckle in too?” You heard JJ call from the back in a sing song voice.

“Me too, Spenceyyyyy! Strap me in! Or down!” Emily added from beside her, making them break down in a fit of giggles. You wanted to pitch in that you would also be up for Spencer tying you down, but as the car lurched forward, your stomach followed suit and suddenly you lost the ability to talk. You were just focusing on not vomiting in your car and ruining all chances of Spencer ever seeing you as attractive ever again.

He was laughing at the ridiculousness of his friends as he started driving, but seemed to take immediate notice of something being wrong with you. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked, and the concern in his voice made you feel very guilty for putting it there. He seemed to reach out for you, but had apparently decided against it, putting his hand on the gear shift instead. He had such nice hands.

“Y-Yeah. I’m just a little dizzy, I’m fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.” You smiled at him, watching him driving soothing your aching stomach. You felt like you were in an ocean, the waves crashing around you and making you sea sick. Spencer felt like a buoy for you to clutch onto so you wouldn’t drown. “C-Can I-” You reached for his hand, pulling it to your lap and playing with his fingers nervously, trying to focus on the way they felt rather than focus on the spinning in your head or the flipping of your stomach.

Spencer’s hand relaxed in your grip, allowing you the simple moment that, unfortunately, did not escape the two drunk ladies in the back. “Are you two gonna get married?” Emily asked.

“Awwww I’d finally get to be a godmother! I made everyone godparents and no one’s made me a fairy godmother yet! I wanna go godmother shopping with Pen so bad!” JJ added, bouncing next to her co-conspirator. You blushed and tried to let go of his hand, but he reacted immediately and took your hand back into his so you could keep playing with it. The fact that he was at least okay with whatever you felt about him and how you were acting on it made you feel light as air. He could just be allowing it while you were drunk because he felt sorry for you… but you held onto hope anyway. Even with your knowledge of his love of chess, you didn’t think he seemed like the kind of guy to play games.

“No, I want to be the godmother!” Emily whined.

“I’m Spencer’s best friend!” JJ countered, pushing Emily on the shoulder.

“I’m going to be Y/N’s best friend, just you wait! Y/N, wanna have a sleepover?” Emily asked, tapping you on your shoulder incessantly.

“Sure, Em.” You smiled to yourself. You liked the fact that she wanted to be your friend, but you hoped it was for more than possibly being a godmother to a child that could possibly not even exist.

“Yay!” She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at JJ. “Oh shush. When they get married I’ll be Y/N’s maid of honor and you can be Spencey’s best man!”

Your heartbeat a little harder at the thought, and you chanced a glance at Spencer to see what he thought of their shenanigans. He seemed amused as he focused on the road, trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying them any mind.

JJ perked up and stopped pouting, ruffling Spencer’s hair from the back seat. “Awwwwww can I be your best man, Spence? I’ll wear a suit and everything! Derek would be soooooo mad! Imagine his face!”

Spencer laughed at that, the image somehow amusing to him. “We’ll see. Maybe let me decide if and when I want to get married first before you start planning my wedding?”

Oh. You deflated at that. He’d seemed so okay with all the teasing, you hoped... He pulled up to a house then, and considering JJ started to gather her things, you assumed this was her house. A man came to the porch and waved. You tried to focus on that, and let go of Reid’s hands in favor of forcing yourself to join the conversation. “Damn! JJ is that your husband?”

She giggled. “Yeah, that’s my Will!”

Emily sighed, leaning her head on the window. “Isn’t it a damn shame? She took the last eligible bachelor in the whole world? AND he’s a southern gentleman! JJ sucks.” You both laughed at her, JJ especially.

“Love you too. Have fun with Y/N while I have fun with my hot southern gentleman husband!” She called out as she got out, closing the door behind her. She ran up to Will and wrapped herself around him. They were a beautiful couple, and seemed so at ease with one another. You hoped you got to know what that felt like one day.

Emily seemed to start to drift off then, and you turned to look at Spencer again, who was staring at you. You blushed, unsure of why his gaze was so intense. “I uh… you know that coffee shop on Trumbull street? I live right over there.” You offered, hoping to go back to how happy and at ease he seemed to be before.

He nodded, clearly knowing where he was going with the directions you gave him. You drove in tense mostly silence for a while, Emily’s snoring the only sound besides the sounds of the road. “D-Did… did I do something wrong?” You asked suddenly, your voice quiet and unsure.

His shoulders fell from their tense position. “No, I just… I think I’m just tired. We had a hard case this week and going out drinking isn’t usually how I decompress.”

“How do you usually decompress?”

“I spend most of my free time at home reading. I read 20,000 words per minute and it soothes me. Morgan wasn’t completely dramatizing my apartment. It’s covered in books. They’re everywhere but the fridge and freezer.”

You laughed at that, starting to sober up a little bit. The world wasn’t quite so upside down anymore. “Me too, except most of my library is back at my moms house. We have a room dedicated to books… we’re a big reading family. Especially my dad.” You offered.

“My love of reading came from my mom. She read to me when I was little.”

“The best way is to have a book read to you! My dad used to read to me, too. I loved listening to him say big words I didn’t understand yet.” You smiled at the memory, closing your eyes and remembering, wishing it didn’t seem so far away and cloudy.

Spencer smiled. “My mom says that too. I can still close my eyes and remember every story she ever read to me.”

“I would kill for your memory.” You admitted sadly. “To be able to remember everything with such detail… it’s a gift I wish I had.”

“A gift.” He paused, looking sad. “A curse too, though. It’s not fun to remember every detail of the bad things.” He said, and you longed to know what those bad things were. Maybe one day you would.

You smiled, one that dripped in bittersweet, looking out the window. “‘The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things… The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.’”

You looked back at him in time to see his surprised expression as he turned and looked at you before he had to look back at the road. “Doctor Who. Matt Smith, Vincent and the Doctor. Series 5, episode 10. Air date June 5th 2010.”

“Impressive!” Truly, you were impressed. Even knowing he remembered everything, you were sure it would never surprise you. “It’s one of my favorite episodes, actually. I have a lot of favorites, but that one never gets old.”

“Who’s your favorite Doctor?” He asked you, and you realized that you were getting close to your apartment. You wished the night didn’t have to end.

“I don’t think I could pick, honestly. They all have their merits, and they all definitely have their flaws… I loved David, just like every other girl in the world, but Matt’s chaotic energy was so fun. And Capaldi was just so… captivating. He’s an amazing actor. His work in Heaven Sent was… indescribable. That’s another one of my favorites. You can take a right up here, and then I’m in the big apartment building on the left.” You watched his arms as he turned the steering wheel, captivated by how strong they seemed underneath the button up and sweater vest.

“Thanks for driving us… you’re welcome to take my car home- it’s late, and I don’t want you to have to find a bus or train at this time.” You said, not making a move to get up. You’d only spent a day with him, and you already never wanted to be away from him.

He pulled up to the building and put the car in park before turning to look at you. “How will you get to work tomorrow?”

You hadn’t thought about that. You bit your lip and blushed all the way to your neck. “I… I can see if Emily can text JJ and have her pick us up?”

“Or I could come and pick you two up?” He offered. You nodded slowly.

“I… don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s not fair to inconvenience your new teammate.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. By letting me take your car, I don’t have to take the bus tomorrow… That’s actually pretty nice. And I’ll get to see you again… you know, so we can talk more Doctor Who.” He looked like he was blushing, but you couldn’t be sure in the dark of the car.

“O-Okay… It would be nice to see you tomorrow. Though I will probably be very embarrassed about tonight. I don’t usually do things like this. Get drunk and act like a fool.” You gestured at nothing, pointing between the two of you, indicating you were talking about how all over him you were all day.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The rest of the team was much more ridiculous than you were. Everyone acts different when under the influence of alcohol; Morgan gets even more forward and flirty, Garcia gets abrasive and asks invasive questions, Emily gets loud, JJ gets a little whiny and is what I’ve heard referred to as a ‘woo girl’? Rossi… Rossi doesn’t really act very different from himself sober, but I can guess that that comes with age. You… well, you were… a pretty adorable drunk, actually.” He said, almost too quiet. You almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t.

Emily stirred behind you before you could respond. “Mmm, arewethereyet?” She yawned, making stretching sounds.

“Yeah, we are, Em. We just got here.” You sighed. “Thank you, Reid. For driving us home, for standing up for me earlier… you’ve been very kind and patient with my drunkenness tonight and I appreciate it. I hope I can make up for today and show you that I’m an okay person when Emily isn’t forcing tequila down my throat.”

“I already think you’re pretty cool, so there’s nothing to make up for. I’ll-” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he looked back at Emily and then at you. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow bright and early. I’ll call you when I get here, okay Em?”

“Mm’Kay Spencer.” She replied sleepily, opening her door, making you feel the need to open yours too. The night was over much too fast in your opinion.

“Thanks again, Reid, have a good night.” You were about to shut the door when you heard his voice again, causing you to turn around.

“Y/N?” He leaned forward, his head tilted and hair falling to the side, messy and so attractive- you wanted to reach forward and run your fingers through it and know if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Yeah?” You bent down a little to meet his gaze.

His eyes were large and brown, the lights from the street lamps making them sparkle. “Please call me Spencer. All my friends call me Spencer.”

You could have danced, that had made you so happy. “O-Okay. Goodnight, Spencer. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you then, the biggest one you’d had the pleasure to see on his face so far in the 12 hours you’d known him. You hoped to see a million more of those in the future. “Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck with that drunk mess over there. See you tomorrow.” You and Emily headed up to your apartment building, and when you turned around from inside, he was still there, looking at you with a smile on his face.

Next Chapter

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[blazedgraysons]

Busy Boy

You and Grayson are FWB, but it’s hard when he’s with another girl.

A/N: I’m not saying this is because Grayson has had five girlfriends in a month, but that’s also not not what i’m saying. also listen to busy boy by chloexhalle if you want to hear the song this was inspired by.

Word Count : 1.3K

Warnings: Shitty smut, grayson’s kind of an asshole in this but you know what that’s fine, also this wasn’t proofed.

“i tell you what you want to hear all the time                                                

                                               just because you’re so damn fine.”

are you up?

Like clockwork you think. You unlock your phone to respond, noticing it’s only 9 o’clock. It’s a little early for Grayson to start his usual games since he typically waits until after midnight. Before you even move your thumbs to type, another message comes through.

do you want to come over?

You bite your lip at this. Grayson had been very silent recently, trading your presence for some Instagram influencer with thousands of followers. It wasn’t unlike him to stop calling in order to focus on whichever soulmate he found for the week. But no matter how many times he tells you this is the last time, he somehow always finds his way back to you.

cum over pls.

i need u

His texts are coming in faster, a tell-tale sign he’s started jerking himself off, and you can’t help clenching your thighs at the image that comes to your head. Ignoring all the warning sounds blaring in your head, you grab your keys and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Your roommates sitting on the couch, glaring at you like you’re making a fatal mistake. (which to be fair, you probably are.)

“Just out. Need some fresh air.” You shrug casually, lying straight through your teeth.

Your roommate pauses and glares at you even more before responding, “You’re going to go see Grayson, aren’t you?”

You don’t respond to that, focusing on lacing up your sneakers instead.

“I thought you said that last time was going to be the last time. That you were done with him?” She questions, “Please don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for him.”

“No, it’s just,” You pause, searching for the right word “complicated.”

She snorts at that before focusing back on the t.v. Your phone lights up when she decides to speak up again.

“You know he probably sent the same text to like twenty other girls, right?” She asks condescendingly.

“Let’s hope I beat them there then.” Looking down at your phone, you see it’s a text from Grayson. You don’t even bother opening before sending three simple letters.

omw

You break about 15 traffic laws on the drive to his house, arriving at record speed. And yet, it was all worth it when you walk into his room. 

“Took you long enough.” 

Your mouth instantly starts to water. He’s already naked, stretched out casually amongst his bed. Like you suspected, he’s begun. One hand is casually wrapped around his dick, loosely jerking off. The other is behind his head, causing his biceps to flex naturally in a way that makes your head swim. Everything about Grayson radiates arrogance right down to his smug smirk at how he's rendered you speechless.  

Choosing to ignore his snide comment, you walk over to him while stripping. Forgoing any teasing or foreplay, you immediately take his dick into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks instantly. It had been a while, you justify. 

"Fuck-" he lets out a guttural moan, eyes glazed over as he watches you lean back from his dick and slowly start suckling the tip. You gradually stop sucking and drizzle spit on his dick, mixing precum and saliva to get his cock sloppy enough to jerk off. You kiss both of his inner thighs before he finally speaks again.

"Suck it, Y/N. Please." His voice cracks. 

He sounds wrecked already, and you've barely done anything. You smile prettily at him. You dip your head further and further until his dick is grazing the back of your throat. As you go back up, you twist your hand to follow your mouth up to the tip before hollowing your cheeks and dipping your head again. 

"Fuck. I missed your mouth." He groans, hands going up to grab your hair into a loose ponytail. You try to not let his words affect you, but you can't help but think about whatever girl had been in the same position as you. Whichever girl had sucked his dick last and hear the exact same thing. A sense of jealousy slides over you, and you start sucking faster, moaning softly.

He moans at the feeling of the vibrations and leans his head back onto his pillow. You take him further and further until at his base, drooling as you deepthroat him. He holds your head down, only letting go when tears start to form in your eyes. You take a few breaths before going down to kiss and suck on one of his balls, the other hand reaching down to touch your clit. 

"Fuck, you're so good to me. The only one who can suck me off like this" He moans, music to your ears. You whimper softly around his balls before going back to his dick. His moans start to get louder and needier, a sign he's close to finishing before he's yanking you off his dick altogether. He pants a few, trying to regain his composure as you stare at him with a brow arched.

"Don't want to come just yet." He grits out as something shiny and reflective catches your eyes. 

"That's new," you think to yourself. You can't help the crude jealous feeling that comes back when you notice his new tooth gem. You'd known about it, having already seen the pictures of her and what's-her-face on Instagram. But seeing it in person just hit you differently. Before you could think too long, Grayson, as if sensing something was wrong, grabs your neck bringing you down to his level until your nose to nose. His hazel eyes scan your face slowly before bringing you in for a deep kiss, tongue slowly entering your mouth. You move to straddle him, lining up his dick to your center. As you slowly sink down, he breaks away from you to moan loudly, eyes shutting instantaneously. 

You moan, adjusting yourself to the sudden fullness before slowly rising up and down to bounce on his dick. Grayson watches for a few moments as your tits bounce up and down, before sitting up to take your right nipple into his mouth. You whine, clenching purposefully around his dick as you speed up. He lets go of your tit, moaning and reaching down to play with your clit. 

"Fuck, you ride my dick so good." He says breathlessly. Grayson can't help but realize how wrecked you look. Hair tangled, makeup smudged from taking his dick so well, and eyes rolling back in your head. It makes him dizzy, and he can't help but close his eyes to stop from cumming right there. 

"Cum for me." You beg raspily, throat already hurting from sucking his dick. 

"You first." He smirks, reaching down to play with your clit again. He plants his feet down and starts thrusting into you, game over then and there. Your moans begin to pick up in pitch and frequency, and before you know it, you're cumming all over his dick. 

"Fuck, Grayson," You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to jackhammer into you, not stopping for a second. He pulls you down to sloppily kiss you before feeling his own orgasm approaching. "Please cum for me. Want to feel it in me."

That does it for him, groaning as he cums straight into her. He slows down, stopping completely when he feels his orgasm die down. You both are silent for a second, processing what happened before you move to leave.

"I missed you, Y/N." He places a hand on your hip to stop you. You look down at him as he stares up at you, hoping to convince you to stay. 

"I know, but you seemed busy." You sigh. He only looks at you before responding. 

"I know, it was just family stuff." He stumbles through, lying straight through his teeth. You choose to ignore his lie and not to tell him that someone had sent you pictures of him and what's-her-face leaving some random party. 

"Please stay. I know you don't like to, but just tonight, please." He begs. 

And when you get a screenshot from your roommate about another girl getting a "you up?" text, you choose to ignore that too. 

[hockeyboysiguess]

nine ladies dancing -> nine hockeys dancing | j. benn

a/n: i know christmas was two days ago, but 2020 isn’t real so here’s day 9. rest of the series linked here. 

word count: 2,799

warnings: single!dad jamie, a very absent mother figure, some cute dancing. 

“You want what?” 

Jamie sighed, covering his skate blades before dropping them into their designated spot in his stall, all part of his routine that was so practiced and rehearsed he didn’t have to think about anything before he did it. He thrived in the routine of it all, as much routine as he could get at the rink because when he got home, all semblance of a routine went out the window for the dark-haired little girl in pigtails on the background of his phone, sitting in his lap. She was five now, joyful and gap-toothed and as perfect as she’d been to him the day he knew that he was going to be her dad. She was his pride and joy, the only thing that when the sun set everyday, no matter where he was, mattered. It was him and her and he’d do anything to keep her smiling, including ask his teammates to sacrifice a little of their time and a lot of their pride for her.

“Lottie’s nervous about her recital for dance,” Jamie repeated himself slowly and steadily. “She’s scared she’s going to mess it up if she doesn’t practice in front of people who aren’t just her dad as she says, so I was hoping some of you might be willing to drop by the house later to give her an audience? I know it’s a lot to ask for this time of year.” 

Some of the younger guys bristled a little at the idea of giving up a prized free Friday night in Dallas without a team commitment the following day to watch Charlotte Benn dance as well as a five-year-old could perform The Nutcracker. Other teammates smiled with experienced and well-knowing understanding, having similar experiences in their own past, and standing up in front of the team to ask for something for their families. Jamie hated asking, but he asked more than anyone else. He hated asking now, especially this close to Christmas where people wanted to be with their families most of all, even though Jamie Benn hated Christmas these days. 

“What time do you want me?” left Tyler’s mouth so much more easily than the call for help had left Jamie’s moments before. “Who else is coming?”

Jamie’s calls for help were always answered in this room, a gift he never expected to receive but now couldn’t imagine his life without the people in this room. Especially as hands went up, along with a disjointed but beautiful chorus of, “I’m in,” and, “Me too,” fell from his teammates mouths, Jamie couldn’t stop the grateful smile from forming on his face. The support fell over Jamie’s shoulders in a way that reminded him of the way his mom would pull his heavy, puffy winter coat over his shoulders before sending him outside back home in Victoria ages ago, back when he thought his life was going to be simpler than it was, back when he thought he would follow the traditional order. Grow up, get a good job, find a wife, get married, have a few kids, and live happily ever after in a blissful, peaceful, uncomplicated, adult world. To be fair, Jamie had done most of that, but after Charlotte was born, she left them both, wiping her hands of him and her daughter without a thought of how cruel it really was to leave your child who hadn’t even seen a full year of life the day before her first Christmas.

Jamie hated her for a lot of things now. One of the many things was that she made him hate Christmas and hating Christmas just wasn’t ever in Jamie Benn’s plans. But he had to pretend he didn’t hate Christmas, or her for that matter, because Charlotte deserved to get to be happy and unburdened by her father’s hatred or her mother’s lack of desire to be her mother. So, Jamie Benn loved Christmas, as long as you didn’t look too deep into his eyes where the pain rested as he lied about how excited he was for it. 

Still, Jamie painted that smile on his face when he answered the door covered in the most basic Christmas wreath Jamie could get away with to see more of his teammates than he imagined standing behind it. Tyler led the group, big smile and a flower for Charlotte in hand, an attempt to maintain his title as her favorite uncle. Dicky and Guri seemed to have been pulled into this by Tyler, but were happy to have come along probably under the promise that Jamie might just join her for a terrible dance or two, terrible because of Jamie not Charlotte. The girl dad crew, as the shirts one of them had gotten them for the start of the season said, Comeau, Dowling, and Klinger, were all right behind them, and Bishop tagged along as well. The only true surprise was Rads, who despite being a dad himself, only had boys and wasn’t exactly a ballet sort of honorary uncle, but Tyler Seguin could make people do a lot of things for his very deserving niece and he’d put his mind to giving her the biggest audience possible. 

The smile relating to Christmas itself might have been fake, but the gratitude Jamie felt to his teammates for stepping up on short notice brought a real one to his face in place of the fake one. His smile carried over as Tyler made a beeline for Charlotte who was standing in the living room, with all the furniture pushed to the walls, in her tutu and a gapped-tooth grin on her face. Tyler scooped her up easily, setting her on his hip and offering her the flower in one smooth motion. 

“For me?” Charlotte asked him, her little hands already reaching for it. 

“Of course it’s for you, Miss Charlotte,” Tyler smiled back at her as he placed it gently into her waiting hands. “There are no other pretty ballerinas around who deserve flowers.” 

“You’d make a pretty ballerina, Uncle Tyler,” Charlotte told him with her eyes trained on her flower. 

Jamie funneled past them and into the kitchen to grab a vase for it, the one Charlotte had decorated with her handprints in preschool. Jamie kept everything, every ornament, every macaroni art, every card, every little thing Charlotte made. He had bins of stuff by now, but he was more than content to buy more bins and fill his basement with everything she made. He rotated what was on the fridge weekly. This week, his fridge doors were full of various glittery Christmas artwork from school. Glitter rained on the floor every time he opened it. Jamie didn’t mind in the slightest.

Charlotte was charming his teammates with her dimpled smile when Jamie came back into the living room, vase with water in hand. He knelt down next to her and offered her the vase to slide her flower into. Taking it from her would lead to tears, but letting her put it in the vase she made herself eliminated that possibility. Jamie sat the flower in its vase next to the speakers and pulled up the soundtrack for her recital on his phone.

“Okay, you ready, Lottie?” 

Jamie’s question caused his teammates to settle themselves around the room. Tyler took the floor in front of Bish and patted the ground next to him for Jamie. He started the music, then made his way to his spot, slumping down onto the floor while Charlotte fussed with her dance costume and shuffled her feet on the floor. Jamie could hear her counting softly under her breath and see her foot loosely tapping to the beat. Jamie didn’t know a thing about dance, but he had seen Charlotte practicing enough to know she’d missed when she was supposed to come in and was just staring at her shoes instead. 

“You okay, honey?” Jamie asked her softly.

“I’m nervous, Daddy,” she mumbled in reply, fingers fussing with her tutu. “I don’t want to dance alone.”

Before Jamie could even begin to stand, Tyler was up on his feet and reaching for Charlotte’s small hands. She sheepishly held onto a few of his fingers. 

“Would it help if Uncle Tyler danced with you?” he asked her softly, head ducked down to be level with her. “That way, you won’t be doing it alone.” 

“But you don’t know the moves,” Charlotte mumbled, eyes trained on the grain of the hardwood as Tyler swung their conjoined hands back and forth to try and cheer her up. 

Tyler laughed as he spoke, “Uncle Tyler can manage just fine, with a little help from some friends?” 

Jason Dickinson was up on his feet without another word, with Guri hot on his heels and Klinger right behind him. Bishop might have been flexible, but dancing wasn’t exactly his forte. He still rose to his feet to join everyone else who was gathering around Charlotte. Tyler reached out and grabbed Rads’ forearm, seeing as he hadn’t moved yet, and yanked him into the crowd. 

“Daddy!” Charlotte called out from his spot among his teammates, hidden from view. “Come dance too!” 

Jamie really, really wasn’t a dancer. Jamie wasn’t a lot of things. He wasn’t the most bold sort of guy, preferring to stay inside of his comfort zone most of the time. He was a good captain, but not by being outspoken. He led quietly by example. Jamie wasn’t the guy who ever thought he’d be a single dad. Hell, sometimes Jamie thought he was the guy who was going to be relegated to the fun uncle role for his entire life before Charlotte was born. Jamie wasn’t the guy who ever thought he’d need other people like he needed people now, like he needed his friends to make his daughter feel comfortable enough to practice for her dance recital, a sentence Jamie never thought would be among his list of concerns in life, because he always thought his ex-wife would be there to help and could handle this sort of thing he was particularly bad at. 

Most of all, Jamie never thought he’d hate Christmas, but he truly couldn’t wait for December 26th to come and for that godforsaken tree tucked in the corner that reminded him of everything he wasn’t, everything that he’d failed at, to go back into its box, for his daughter to be doing normal ballet recitals instead of ones of the Christmas variety, for everything to stop reminding him of the holiday he used to love. Still, Jamie rose to his feet from the floor and restarted the music, ready to sway as poorly to it as he did, because Charlotte had asked him to, like doing it didn’t make his chest ache and his head spin as he remembered that life he was supposed to have but never would. 

Tyler was the best worst dancer of the bunch, attempting to spin when Charlotte did, arms over his head doing his best impression of a five-year-old doing her best impression of a real ballerina. Jamie just swayed a little to the music, feet shuffling side to side. Rads was trying his hardest to be The Grinch, but it was increasingly hard to do with their teammates making fools of themselves for the sake of Charlotte Benn, Guri finding himself in the air courtesy of Jason and being spun like a top. John was swaying with admiration on his face, seeing this as his future with his own little girl. Charlotte’s giggle was drowning out a lot of the music. Rads ended up slow dancing with Tyler after a fight about which of them was actually right to lead. The fight lasted all of four second before Radulov took charge and started leading Tyler around the living room. Comeau and Dowling were swaying together, giving Jamie supportive looks because they understood what seeing her laughter meant to him on a level others didn’t.

The only thing that dulled the ache in his chest was Charlotte’s laughter. She loved Christmas still, something Jamie would never try to take from her. He didn’t want to pass any of his resentment and anger down to her like a tradition that should’ve died years ago. It would die with him. Jamie was determined to make it so. 

His teammates doing their best attempts at ballet meant for five-year-olds to The Nutcracker soundtrack with the fire crackling in the background was a pretty good way to make sure all Charlotte remembered from his Christmas was love and joy. Jamie scooped her up as the song ended, causing a fit of giggles to pour from her mouth. 

“You did so good, peanut!” Jamie tickled her a little as he spoke, heightening her giggles. “So good, right guys?” 

The chorus of approvals and cheers from his teammates made Charlotte's smile wide impossibly more.

“I think I’m going to do so good tomorrow at the re-re-recital,” Charlotte stuttered a bit as she spoke. The word recital was a difficult one for her. “Uncle Tyler should join. He’s a good dancer.” 

“Not as good at you, Miss Charlotte,” he assured her, ruffling her hair a little and making her giggle again in Jamie’s arms. 

Charlotte carried the smile she grew that evening with her all the way through to her recital the next day. Jamie dropped her off early, as he always did, and took his seat in the audience among the other eagerly waiting parents. He managed to find a prized seat at the end of the aisle, where Charlotte might actually have a chance at spotting him from the stage.

“Is the seat next to you taken?” 

Jamie lifted his eyes from his phone to see you standing there, coffee in hand despite it being seven at night two days before Christmas. You were beautiful and Jamie wondered who you were here with. He wasn’t able to make most dance practices or parent events, so he didn’t have a good idea of who you might be even though it made him feel like a worse dad for not knowing.

“Your Charlotte’s dad, right?” you asked him after clearing your throat. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie mumbled as he scrambled to his feet to let you get by and take the seat next to him. He dropped back into his seat when you did. “How’d you guess?”

“Well, she looks just like you,” you told him. “But also, figured you had to be the hot single dad everyone talks about in the moms’ group chat.”

Jamie threw his head back and laughed, “The moms’ group chat talks about how I’m hot?”

“Shhhh,” you shushed him softly. “Don’t rat me out as the source of that information though. You’ll get me kicked out of the chat and that chat is the only source of entertainment I have in my life that doesn’t involve a five-year-old.” 

Jamie nodded and put a hand over his heart, “Your secret is safe with me. Promise.”

“Better be, or I’ll have to kill you,” you joked, drawing another laugh that caused him to tip his head back and shift his hand over his stomach as he laughed with his whole body. 

As he came down from his laughter, the lights began to dim around you to signal the start of the show. You watched as various moms slipped into the aisle, phones outstretched, to record the show. You shook your head softly. The studio always recorded the show and sent it to all the parents after, and you were partial to watching her dance with your own eyes rather than through your screen. 

“Gonna get out there?” Jamie whispered to you. 

“Their teacher will send out the recording,” you shrugged. “I’d rather watch it.”

“Finally,” Jamie sighed, voice heavy with relief, “someone else gets me.”

“Maybe we should sit together at more of these,” you suggested to him as the lights went dark. “Single parents who don’t believe in watching the recital through their phones.”

Normally, especially now when trees stood in people’s living rooms and wreaths hung on front doors, the acknowledgement Jamie was in this alone with Charlotte, that she left them both, made him feel alone. When the words left your mouth, Jamie felt a sense of closeness, of kinship, of mutual understanding that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was natural, the way you two talked between dance numbers, about Charlotte, about your daughter, about hockey, about your work, about your lives. Jamie left that recital with your phone number burning a hole in his pocket and Charlotte’s hand in his, feeling like, for the first time in a long time that Christmas might still have some magic left in it after all.

[shokobuns]

tutor

yuji needs some help and he gets more than what he asked for.

pairing: itadori yuji x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: slightly suggestive, making out, boner

“you really don’t mind?”

he looked at you with wide eyes, his slight smile accompanied by his happy tone. yuuji was kind, you can tell by the way he talks to your other classmates, complimented by the comforting aura that he always brought along with him. despite your limited interactions, you didn’t see a reason to deny him the help that he needed.

“i don’t. plus, professor miyagi is one of my favorite teachers. i don’t see a reason not to.” you flashed a friendly smile to reassure him that it was fine.

“cool, cool,” he responded, a grin plastered on his face, “after school at the library then.”

the rest of your classes zoomed by as you daydreamed about yuuji (again). only this time, you were thinking about how you would feel if your hand brushed over his, how you would function while he was listening to you intently. it all made your stomach turn uncomfortably, but you knew you would have to eventually stuff it away.

-

“are you sure about that?” you asked with a guiding tone.

of course, you do your best to nudge him in the right direction, but sometimes it all just ends with his head in his hands and a small, albeit slightly concerning, joke about he’s about to fail the class. you can see his pained effort, the gears that struggle to turn in his head, and it chips away at your heart. you’re doing your best, why wouldn’t you, but the concepts aren’t sticking in his head.

“how about you try this?” you suggest, writing a small equation on his paper before handing it back to him. he grabs it in his hands, lifting it from the table, and stares hard. his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint at the writing until his face relaxes and his head tilts. the dots connect and a wide smile replaces the confusion.

“wait, i think i got it!” he grabs his pencil, excitedly scribbling onto the paper before sliding it back to you and anticipating your judgement.

the writing, though messy, is correct and a feeling of satisfaction washes over you while he holds his hand out for a high five. when you look back at his elated expression, your cheeks get unexplainably hot.

it feels weird.

every greeting in the school hallways feel odd. every sly glance in his direction makes you feel guilty. every moment of a study session, particularly the ones when you can feel his breath on your face and the warmth radiating from his body, makes you feel awfully uneasy.

itadori yuji made you feel certain feelings, ones that especially plagued your stomach, your heart, and even your own mind.

and it was all new. you couldn’t think of a time when someone’s smile made your heart race or a person who made your ears perk up at the sound of their voice. though, you accredited it all to yuuji’s friendly presence. it was natural, he was always the type of person who can weave his way into people’s hearts with no effort. it was easy for him to speak to a stranger as if they were a friend, lend a helping hand whenever he could.

you just couldn’t reason how or when he wove so deep into yours.

the feeling was terrifying and it felt like you had something to hide, some dirty little secret, but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact feelings.

when the end of the school day finally comes, yuji is already waiting at your locker for your routine tutoring session. you two walk silently side by side and he seems completely calm, unphased by the lack of small talk, but you actively avoid eye contact in order to prevent those odd feelings from starting up again.

the library is closed.

“we can just go back to my house or something,” he proposes, his hand scratching the back of his neck, “it’s not that far of a walk. plus, i can cook for you. pay you back for your services, you know?”

you purse your lips, mulling over the offer. normally, you wouldn’t have to think about it. free food? the comfort of studying at home instead of the cold atmosphere of the library?

but from what you know about him, there’s likely not going to be anyone else there. it would just be the two of you. alone. together.

you shudder at the thought.

“i don’t want to be a bother-“

“don’t worry about it!” he grabs your hands in his, your eyes widening at the sudden contact. he’s friendly and the increased amount of time spent with him only made him even more comfortable around you. there’s more lingering touches, more of him being seated closer and closer. you’re not sure if he notices, but it doesn’t help ease your mind.

-

guilt.

it’s all you feel when you go home that night replaying moments with him again. the presence behind you while you tried to reach for a cup on a shelf, the brief second of when you felt his breath on your neck.

you feel guilty because yuji is tooth achingly sweet. he’s kind and his aura reminds you of a sunbeam. his attitude is almost childlike and almost always optimistic, always able to keep his cool when confronted with a minor inconvenience.

“fuck!” you curse as you scrub your skin, hot water and bubbles cascading down your body. even an hour later, he still plagues your mind.

an hour later and you can still feel his breath on your neck, the lingering touches on barely exposed skin, the slight dampness that had formed in your panties. it all started with flushed cheeks and fast heartbeats, but somehow this territory feels so wrong.

-

need help. come at 2. door’s unlocked.

“yuji?”

your concerned voice echoed throughout his cramped apartment. when there was no response, you entered, closing the door behind you and walking towards his bedroom. you hesitantly knocked, just in case he was sleeping. “come in!”

when you finally open the door, you’re met with the sight of yuji lying on his floor in a big t shirt, pajama pants, and countless homework assignments spread out on his table. “help?” you hummed with an amused expression planted on your face. “you were doing so well last time i was over, what happened?”

“just kind of lost motivation,” he sits up, his back leaning against the table, “professor miyagi assigned a shit ton of review of assignments and they’re all due this week. i may have procrastinated a little bit.” you laughed before squatting down until you were eye level with the boy. “you always have me to help you. professor miyagi tends to do that. it’s annoying, but i love the man.”

“nerd.” he muttered on his breath before you turned to him with a pout on your face, “guess i won’t help then.”

“take that back!” you immediately grabbed a pillow, aiming for his head. “i was joking!” he catches the pillow with ease, “i need some sort of motivation…” he trails off, his cheeks turning a bright red, something that you don’t fail to miss while he turns away in an attempt to hide them.

“oh, yeah?” you scoot closer until your arms rest on his knees, letting your head rest on top of them. you’re not exactly sure about where the uncharacteristically bold behavior came from, but it doesn’t change the fact that your heart is beating fast and your palms are definitely sweating. hopefully, he doesn’t notice. “what did you have in mind?”

“uh, i don’t know,” it seems as his voice gets quieter and quieter every time. it doesn’t seem like he’s completely at his usual confident levels, “i had something in my mind, but it was stupid.”

the small surge of courage races throughout your body when your face inches closer to his until your lips meet his. they’re soft and sweet, just like the man himself, and your heart melts when he cups your face into his bigger hands. pulling away, he’s wide eyed and giddy up to the point you entice him with an offer. “for each homework assignment done, we get to do that again, alright?’

though your foreheads are touching, you can make out the smirk on his face right before he gathers all of his things in order. the organization is sloppy, but if he understands it that’s all that really matters. while he scribbles down a series of numbers and equations, you lay on his bed, waiting for him to hand you something to check.

after ten minutes pass, he does and there’s a mistake, though you ignore it, opting to look at the problem for three seconds and tossing away the notebook instead. he doesn’t have time to process your legs straddling his lap, your soft lips melding into his.

his reaction is natural, hands coming down to your ass, giving a small squeeze as you grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks. his tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you let it enter your mouth, sucking on the pink muscle while he lets out a sweet moan. the sound fills you with a feeling of success, your crotch subtly grinding down on his lap.

you can feel something hardening under you, it’s unmistakable and it fills you with a sick sense of pride. yuji operates by instinct with every movement, the kisses are hungry and laced with need. another squeeze of your ass causes you to squeak while your hands keep him close.

you can’t think. you can’t feel.

your mind is completely empty because he’s overridden your senses from the feeling of his sloppy lips, the pretty noises he makes, the hard on that pokes through his jeans. eventually, he pulls away for air, heavy breaths that tickle your neck, his arms wrapping around your body.

you didn’t see a reason to deny him the help that he needed. and that included motivation.

“by the way, you got that problem wrong.”

“did we just make out for ten minutes for no reason?” he pouts as you laugh at his cute expression, “we made out cause i felt like it.”

“this doesn’t help with my homework motivation at all!” he crosses his arms, turning his back towards you. you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder. you can hear the relieved sigh that leaves him and it encourages you to leave feather light kisses on the side of his neck, his body immediately relaxing.

“how ‘bout i give you a lil gift for finishing your assignments at the end of the week, hmm?” you suggest, your fingers interlacing with his. your hands trails down to palm his clothed length, your wet tongue dragging along the sweet spot of his neck up to his earlobe.

“a b- b- blow-” he manages to stutter out. you’re sure his brain is malfunctioned, but it only makes you feel triumphant when he pulls away and eagerly begins to write.

[shoutogepi]

Something to Think About

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 2.0k

[ ☀︎ fluff ]  

themes : tooth rotting sweetness & domesticity

bio : You surprise Shouto, and he surprises you right back.

author’s note : alright so this might be a day late but i’m gonna pretend that it’s still father’s day :))) happy father’s day daddy icyhot <3

   ─── ・��* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂houto is in the kitchen. Contrary to popular belief, he knows how to make more than just soba. Well, at least you hope it’s not soba that he’s making. If that’s the case, it’ll be your fourth meal of cold noodles this week. His back is to you, eyes concentrated on the cutting board atop the marble countertop beneath him, scallions crunching as they’re sliced through with precision.

“Baby?” You start, lingering by the kitchen island with your hands behind your back.

Shouto turns to look at you, a small smile forming on his lips at just the sight of you. He places the knife down, wiping off his slender fingers on the towel strewn over his shoulder. “Hey, love. Didn’t hear you come in— you just get home from work?” He says as he closes the space between you two, hands itching to be on you after not having seen you all day.

Nodding with a hum, your arms wrap around his neck, melting into his broad chest. You can feel the firmness of his muscles through his thin t-shirt, and you grin as a feeling of completeness washes over you. Just simply being in your husband's arms after a long day makes all your worries fade away, his embrace like a gentle tide lapping at you, and cleansing your shore of the stress that is littered there.

Taking his face in your hand, he leans down to press his lips to yours, the metal of your wedding rings cool against his warm cheek. His kiss is soft and sweet, and as you part, he sneaks another peck onto the corner of your mouth. “How was your day?” He whispers, a hand wandering down to splay his fingers at the top of your pants, dipping underneath to press the tips of the digits into your skin.

“It was good,” you answer honestly, leaning back to lock eyes with his stunning gray and cerulean gaze, “but much better now that I’m home, with you.”

Shouto chuckles, stealing another swift kiss before he pulls away, his voice deep and full of affection. “You are so cheesy, my love.” He turns back to the cutting board, the scallions protesting as he finishes chopping them.

Taking a seat on one of the stools at the island, you bite your lip, hands going to fumble through your purse. Where is it… you know you put it in here somewhere…

Your husband throws the end of the stalks into the compost bin, washing the onion juice off his hands at the sink in front of you. His eyes take in your movements with curiosity, and he winks at you when you catch his gaze.

Finally your fingers find the tip of the envelope, and you beam as you slide it out of the confines of your bag. “Hey! I have something for you,” you giggle at the thought of him opening your gift, even if it’s nothing grand. Holding out the envelope to him, he cocks his head to the side as he takes it from you, coming to stand diagonal to you around the island counter.

Shouto doesn’t really know what to expect, though from examining your beaming expression, he’s not fearful to open it. So he does, smirking at you as he rips the blue paper, watching the excitement radiate off of you before he looks down at the card.

Happy Father’s Day!

His heart stops.

Brain going blank, lips parting as his jaw unhinges slightly. And then, his mind is shooting out a million thoughts all at once.

There’s only one reason why you’d be giving him a Father’s Day card—

You’re pregnant?!

You— and him— you’re going to have a baby?

He’s going to be a dad?

And you, you’re going to be a mom?

You’re going to have his baby?

There’s going to be a baby?

A thousand emotions swirl and burst in his chest, like wild, explosive fireworks lighting up a night sky. He feels like he can’t breathe, like the ground has fallen in underneath him, and yet he’s floating here, stuck midair.

“Open it!” You instruct eagerly, completely unaware of the barrage of thoughts that have just pummeled the poor man.

With shaky hands, he opens the card, his lungs completely still as he holds onto his breath, unable to speak.

Thanks for being the most paw-some dad there is! Love, Beans

Shouto nearly collapses as he realizes that the card is supposed to be from your cat. He lets out a trembling breath, eyes frantically flickering over the card again, and again. Just to make sure.

Just to make sure.

“It’s funny, right?” You laugh, blissfully ignorant of the rollercoaster Shouto feels like he’s just been thrown onto; one with no safety bars or seatbelts that demands he holds onto the handles for dear life.

“Y-Yeah.” It slithers out of him, barely even audible. His throat is dry, chest tight as he tries his best to put a name to the hollow feeling inside of him right now.

You look at him in concern, reaching out to rub the side of his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” You murmur, confused as to why his mood would suddenly flip like this. “I’m sorry Beans couldn’t think of a better pun, she’s not very creative y’know?”

As if on cue, Beans enters the kitchen, tail straight in the air as she rubs her head against your ankle, and then her flank on Shouto’s leg.

Jostled out of his consuming thoughts, he reaches down to scratch behind her ear for a moment, brow furrowed. When he stands back up, he makes his way to the stool next to you, sliding into it before he places the card on the counter, and takes your hands in his. His thumbs rub over your knuckles, but he remains silent, lost in thought again.

Craning your neck to get a better view of his pensive expression, you squeeze his hands gently. “Shou?”

At the sound of his name, he locks eyes with you, and for the tiniest second, you swear you catch a distant sadness there. He squeezes your hands back, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes forming on his lips. He takes a long, deep breath before he speaks. “I’m fine, love. I just— I think I misunderstood at first is all.”

You look at him, bewildered, your mouth opening. “Misunder—” It’s then that your eyes go wide with shock, darting to the front of the card before landing back on him. “Oh my god, Shouto— I am so sorry. That must’ve scared the shit outta you,” you groan, slipping a hand from his to cradle your forehead in shame. “I am so stupid, I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey,” he cuts in, warm fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. When your eyes meet his, your stomach bursts with butterflies at his determined expression. “You’re not stupid. It was a cute idea… The execution was a bit questionable, but y’know, Beans isn’t the brightest.”

You smile half-heartedly at that, and Shouto takes your chin in his palm, long fingers stroking your jaw.

“I won’t lie, you did scare me,” he says in a gentle tone, looking at you with sincerity. “I was completely frozen for one whole second. And then, I… wasn’t.”

Licking your lips, you place your hand on his knee, trying to understand where he’s going with this.

Shouto’s looking at you softly, thoughtful eyes peering into you. “For those few seconds, I thought that you were pregnant. And even though the thought initially scared the shit out of me, I don’t know— I… I felt…  excited.”

He’s watching every change in your expression carefully, trying to gauge your response to his words. He takes in your eyes widening, your lips parting in shock. The two of you have talked about this before, about if you’d ever want kids. And at the time, you’d agreed that you both wanted a family, sometime in the future. But that was years ago now, before you were even engaged— it seems like it’s been forever since then.

“I’m not saying I want to jump into anything blindly,” Shouto hurries to find the right words, fearful that you’re thinking he expects you to instantly be ready for such a commitment. “I just mean that, if you were to get pregnant… would it be such a bad thing? I know we said we’d wait to have kids, but that was a while ago, and… now’s as good a time as any, right? You just got promoted, crime is down so my hero work is more steady. I love you, and I know you love me— our home would be the best environment for a baby; full of love and support. I know you’d make the most incredible mother. You’re the only one I can imagine doing this with, my love.”

His heart starts to thump against his ribs when you smile at him, your eyes looking a little glassy. “Shouto,” you whimper, words failing you.

He squeezes your hand again, thumb brushing over your cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, angel. I don’t mean to spring this on you, I just… I needed to tell you. Because for those ten seconds, I felt like I was truly the luckiest person in existence. I already am the luckiest, because I have you. But the premise of you carrying my baby, I— it just filled me with so much joy.”

There’s a brief pause before you force yourself to speak, and it comes out more like a croak. “I don’t even know what to say...” you whisper, tears gathering along your bottom lashes.

Shouto smiles at you, his own eyes misty as he wipes away a tear that runs down your cheek. “Say you’ll think about it, love. Give it some time, we’re in no rush. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

You nod, feeling choked up all of the sudden. The idea of expanding your family had been on the back-burner for so long; now that Shouto’s brought up the reality of it, you’re emotional. And excited, too. “Okay,” you sniffle, pulling on him until he brings you into his lap, shuffling you into his warm embrace. Nuzzling your face into his neck, you breathe him in, trying to steady your rapidly-beating heart. “You smell like onions,” you complain with a watery laugh, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry,” he chuckles, moving the cooking towel off his shoulder. A large, warm hand runs up and down your spine, his lips touching your forehead delicately. “Some strong scallions I was cutting,” he remarks.

Leaning back, you can’t stop the grin from splitting your lips, your fingers reaching up to wipe the lone tear that escapes despite his best efforts. “I love you,” you murmur, nose touching his as you go in for another kiss.

“I love you too,” he mumbles against your mouth, lips warm and slow on yours. A hand wanders down to rest on your stomach as you kiss, his warmth seeping through the material of your blouse.

You smile against his lips, heart full and nearly bursting at the seams. So he wants to have a baby, huh? Certainly something to think about. Though a part of you already knows that you won’t be stuck just thinking about it for too long.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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sorpriseeee!! look guys, i can be soft! and no i didnt write this to clear my conscience of the sin from last night whaaa 

i know i rarely write sfw things but idk i’ve been thinking of expanding into fluff and angst lately too (not sayin it’ll always be sfw LOL) so, please let me know if you enjoyed!! <3

➥ masterlist 

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 14

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter:  14

Chapter Summary:  Settling into family life.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: It’s so much tooth rotting fluff. Like... I went overboard with the fluff, I couldn’t help myself.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13}

"Briar." Henry whispered, popping his head into the room where the little girl was playing.

"What?"

"Mama's resting up for tonight, how about you and me go check out that park down the street?" Henry suggested, hushing the girl when she squealed excitedly. Overall, finding a place to move in together hadn't been too much of an effort. Henry found Faye wasn't too picky when it came to homes. She had been impressed by every one they had seen. They had decided on one that was on a nice quiet street, not too far from town, had a big fenced in yard for Kal, enough rooms for everyone plus a park just down the street. Briar had been begging Faye to take her since they had moved in last week, but they found it hard to find time for an adventure while also trying to settle in.

If Henry had to venture a guess, he'd say they were about 3/4 of the way there. The kitchen and the bedrooms had been sorted. Henry's office/gaming room was still mostly in boxes, as well as most of the living room furniture. So far, the only thing not boxed in the living room was the couch, which Faye was currently passed out on. They had intended to unpack more, but Henry could tell she wasn't feeling right. Faye told him it was just a headache, but Henry insisted she lay down anyway.

Now was their chance to sneak out and procrastinate on actually working on the house. Henry made sure her jacket was zipped up and her hat was secure before taking her little mitten clad hand in his, leading the giddy girl down the street to the park. Her eyes lit up when she saw all the different things to play with, from slides to swings to monkey bars, all just waiting for her to climb all over them. Her hand was free from Henry's the second her little sneakered feet touched the grass, darting off to go and play on as many different things as she could.

Henry followed after the little girl, lifting her into the toddler swing at her request and setting her in motion, unable to keep the smile from his face at her elated giggles. He had intended to keep her low, not wanting to scare the little girl, but was soon reminded of her love of baby adrenaline when she started demanding to go higher and higher. He finally reached the point where she was swinging near his face, squealing in laughter the entire time, her little mitten clad hands holding the chains as her feet kicked gleefully.

"Catch, catch!" Briar laughed, twisting around to plant a kiss to Henry's jaw when he caught the seat. "Again!"

Henry was more than happy to comply, releasing the seat and letting her swing again, stepping back and giving another small push. He had half a mind to record her time on the swings; this was the type of moment that the best memories are made of. She was so happy, soaring through the air without a care in the world. He hadn't known her for very long, but he already could tell she was growing up more. She was turning into her own little person, with her own thoughts and ideas. So stubborn, unafraid to take risks and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Just like her mother. He somehow felt bad for missing out on the first years of her life, even though he didn't know her then. She deserved to have a father figure to spoil her. She needed someone in her life to show her how a woman should be treated so she wouldn't settle with someone that wasn't right for her.

How her own father could want nothing to do with her was baffling to him. She was the sweetest little girl. She would constantly pop out of nowhere to squeeze his leg in a hug and scurry off again. Every time he picked her up, she would kiss his cheek and throw her little arms around his neck. She cuddled close for bedtime stories, always reacting like it was the first time whenever he would read one to her. How anyone could decide not to be a part of her life was beyond him, but at the same time he was glad. If her biological father hadn't been a complete douchebag, he wouldn't be where he was now, living with the woman he had fallen with so hard, so fast. He wouldn't have a house to fill with their own memories together. He wouldn't have someone special with him at the premiere tonight. He wouldn't have taken the little girl with him on a sneaky adventure to the park while the woman he loved was napping on the couch. He wouldn't have his own little family so for that, he was grateful.

"Down!" Briar decided when she swung back to him, her eyes locking on the slides and large play structure not too far away. Of course, she would want to climb on something while she was there. Henry stopped the swing's motion and unfastened the little girl, her feet barely touching the ground before she was sprinting off again toward the slides.

Henry chuckled to himself at the little girl's excitement, sitting down on a nearby bench to keep watch as she played. She was a little ball of energy, climbing the ladder to the slide and going down head first, giggling the entire time. She zipped across the play yard, climbing the large structure in the middle and going down the curly slide on one side. Henry settled back into his seat as he observed, silently patting himself on the back. She would be too worn out to throw up a fuss for the babysitter when they had to leave later. He just hoped Faye was feeling better by then. He would hate to drag her out for something this important when she felt unwell.

Her stunning dress had been delivered just two days ago, her face lighting up when she caught her first glimpse of it. Henry knew she would look beautiful in it. He also had the feeling she would look even better when he took it off later that evening. The couple had wasted no time in christening every surface they possibly could. Their bed, the bedroom wall, the shower, the vanity, the couch, the kitchen counter, the table. Everywhere they could possibly get to and not wake the baby was fair game.

Between moving, and the premiere, he also had his mother's birthday coming up. That was something he needed to remember to tell Faye about. It had somehow slipped his mind with everything else going on. He had told his mother they would all try to make it out to see her for her birthday, but he had somehow forgotten to bring it up to Faye. Hopefully she didn't have anything else planned. His mother was really looking forward to meeting her.

Henry slowly scanned around the play area of the park, taking note of everyone else around. It quickly became apparent that all the other adults were women. Most of which were currently staring at him, quite possibly recognizing who he was. He really should have worn a hat to hide behind. Would that look weirder though? A random guy sitting on a park bench, hiding his face behind a hat, watching children play? Why weren't there more fathers out with their children? Sure, his own father worked a lot when he was growing up, but he always had weekends off, and he made sure to make time for his family on those days. This was a Saturday afternoon, shouldn't there be at least one or two other men around? His overthinking was making him more and more uncomfortable the longer he dwelled on it.

"PAPA!" Henry jumped up without thinking, his current train of thought instantly cut off at the child's scream. His eyes locked on her in a second and he dashed across the playground in four quick strides to kneel down next to the little girl on the ground who was holding her knee and crying. He was suddenly grateful no other men were around. It would have been really awkward for him to go running up to someone else's kid like that.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." Henry soothed, picking her up and letting her cry into his neck. "What happened, princess?"

"I... I fell do-down." Briar sobbed, clinging to him as he rubbed her back.

"It's ok. You're ok." Henry assured, deciding then was the best time to take their leave as many sets of motherly eyes had already locked on him, now hyper aware of his presence. This seemed to be quickly going from a fun bonding experience to Henry being turned into eye candy as he tried to soothe a crying child.

Briar had calmed down considerably by the time he had gotten them home, though he decided to continue carrying her anyway. If he had to guess, she wasn't exactly in the mood for walking. He tried to be quiet when he came back inside, hoping not to wake Faye and alert her to their sneaky adventure; it didn't matter how quiet his entrance was however, as Faye was already waiting by the door when he came in.

"Is she ok?" Faye asked softly, looking at the girl still clinging to him as though her life depended on it.

"I fell down." Briar sniffed, slowly reaching to her mother for more coddling.

"I bet that was scary." Faye soothed, taking the child in her arms and kissing her head softly. "Did you fall off of something at the playground or did you just trip?"

"Just trip." Briar mumbled, cuddling close to her mother.

"How did you know where we went?" Henry asked suspiciously, raising a brow as he began taking his coat off.

"Oh please, it's not rocket science. She's been begging to go since we moved here, you'll do anything she asks and the playground is in the direction I saw you two coming from. Busted, mister." Faye explained as she helped the little girl out of her coat and mittens.

"It wasn't sweeties before dinner this time." Henry defended himself, stealing a kiss as he reached beside her to hang up his coat, taking Briar's and hanging it up as well.

"You should have woken me up, I would have loved to have gone too." Faye pouted, slowly letting the squirming child down.

"You weren't feeling well, and tonight is an important night." Henry reasoned, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer.

"So you really want the babysitter coming here with everything still in boxes?"

"If I hurry, I can probably make the living room look livable. At least mount the TV or something. Possibly just set the iPad up on the coffee table and pretend that's what we use as a TV."

"Yes, because I'm sure they will believe that a giant geek ass dork nerd like you would have such a tiiiiiny little screen to watch his nerd shows on."

"Well I did find myself a small woman. Maybe I just really like little things." Henry teased, kissing the top of her head.

"Who do you think you're calling small?"

"You." Henry shrugged, kissing the top of her head again.

"I will have you know, I am not small. Everything else is just big."

"That's what you always tell me that every time we - ouch!" Henry chuckled, rubbing his ribs where Faye had poked him.

"That did not hurt."

"Well it didn't feel nice either!"

"We need to get the living room unpacked, come on." Faye insisted, quickly poking his ribs again and dashing off to the living room, Briar poking Henry's hip and racing off after her mother.

"Woman! You are teaching the baby bad habits!" Henry chastised, pursuing after both of them.

"I am doing no such thing! She needs to learn your weaknesses." Faye taunted, keeping the couch between her and her boyfriend.

"I already do whatever she asks, why does she need a weakness?" Henry laughed, slowly circling around one side, both girls skittering around to the other.

"One day you may say no." Faye shrugged, squealing when Henry reached over the back of the couch, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.

"Now why would I ever say no to either of my girls?" Henry asked, cupping her jaw and kissing her softly.

"There might be an occasion." Faye reasoned, bumping her forehead against his, her other hand sneaking up to tickle his ribs again.

"Would you stop?" Henry grumbled, dragging her over the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I will never stop."

"Papa, no!" Briar gasped, running around to the back of the couch and grabbing her mother's hand. "Mama, come on!" She urged, trying to pull her free.

"Oh what, now you're on her side? I thought you were on team me!" Henry gasped, letting Faye be pulled from his arms.

"Gonna get you!" Briar giggled, attempting to tickle at his leg.

"Ok, now this is not fair!" Henry grouched, letting Faye go to snatch Briar up instead. "Two on one, really?"

"Papa, down!" Briar squealed, wiggling when he started to tickle her sides.

"Down? Now why would I put you down?" Henry laughed, jumping and barely suppressing a swear when Faye snatched his ribs again.

"Briar, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you go if you help me get Mama." Henry stage whispered to the child, setting her down and chasing after her mother when she darted off down the hall.

"Mama!" Briar cheered, chasing after the two, Kal now following the rest of the family to the kitchen.

"I know what you're planning, and it's not a good idea." Faye warned, slowly backing up to the counter.

"Oh, and why is that?" Henry asked, pressing up close to her, pinning her between his body and the counter.

"I'll tell on you."

"And who are you gonna tell? Briar? She's on my side now, remember?"

"Uhh... how about your mother? Would she side with me?"

"Oh!" Henry lit up, his mind jumping to another subject while he still had her trapped by his body. "That reminds me. My mum's birthday is next week, she's wanting us to come."

"That's a bit of a distance, isn't it? You have to factor in a toddler sized bladder into all travel plans now, my love."

"That is true. We also have to worry about Briar having to stop for restroom breaks."

"Oh, Mr. Somebody over here thinks he has jokes." Faye scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"We can fly there, it won't be as bad." Henry reasoned, kissing the top of her head. "She's really wanting to meet you two."

"Wait, she knows about us?"

"Faye, do you really think my mother wouldn't know about the woman I've been dating for the last ten months? We've moved in together, I think the people close to us are starting to suspect something."

"But I mean... does she know about us?" Faye asked, her eyes flicking down to the little girl trying to climb Henry's leg.

"She's excited to have another little girl to spoil. For some reason, us Cavill's just don't have very many girls."

"And she's ok with that?" Faye asked, fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"I don't know. It's... a lot. It was a lot having you step in and step up like you did. It just doesn't seem like something a mother would want for her baby boy."

"I'm in my thirties." Henry snorted.

"Yes. You are over six feet tall, over two hundred pounds and over thirty years old. You are also her little baby boy."

"Briar, am I a baby?" Henry asked, reaching down to scoop her up.

"No, you Papa Bear!" Briar giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"And there's also that. Since when does she call you Papa?"

"She just yelled it a the park." Henry shrugged. "Is it something we need to discuss?"

"Well I mean... if the shoe fits." Faye mumbled. "I just don't want her to freak you out."

"I've been acting the part for a while now, if it bothered me, I would have said something. We're a family now, Faye. You're stuck with me."

"Oh am I?"

"Yes you are. If you leave, I'm going with you. Right Kal?" Henry asked, looking down at the canine, his tail swooshing across the floor in excitement at being included in whatever was going on.

"So now I have three children to worry about?" Faye groaned, her head falling back in mock annoyance.

"It would seem that way, yes. One is very easy to care for, however. He can let himself outside and his food is on an automatic timer."

"I don't know if you mean you, or Kal."

"Alright, two of us then."

"Enough with the distractions now, Mister Sir. We have more work to do around here." Faye reminded, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and taking Briar from his arms.

"So, I'm going to unpack the living room and you two are...?" Henry fished, reluctantly releasing Faye from her prison.

"I'm gonna help Briar get her room the way she likes it."

"Her room was the first thing we did." Henry pointed out suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as Faye skittered around him. "Oh no, you get back here, Woman!" He called, taking off after them again, mother and daughter both laughing as Faye hurried to Briar's room. He caught up with the two of them just as Faye was setting her daughter down, quickly snatching his girlfriend up and playfully biting at her neck. "You are not getting away that easy!"

"It was worth a shot." Faye sighed, letting him drag her back to the living room where he promptly sat on the couch, settling her in his lap and resting his head on her shoulder. "This doesn't seem like unpacking." She teased, resting her head against his.

"Of course it is. We are visualizing how we want it to look." Henry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

"Hmm... TV over the fireplace?"

"A solid choice."

"Coffee table in front of the couch. Side table over there. Briar's little table and chair over there. Probably put Kal's bed next to it."

"He'll lay next to her whether we put the bed there or not." Henry pointed out.

"True. How good are you at putting together IKEA furniture?"

"It is definitely going to be a job for another day." Henry decided, eying the few new pieces they had gotten for the larger living room.

"The toys should probably be near Briar's table so she's not tracking them everywhere. Kal's toy basket can go by his bed. We'll find a place for the pictures once we have the big stuff figured out."

"Sounds perfect." Henry agreed, holding her a little tighter when she tried to stand up. "Just a few more minutes of visualization."

"If you keep putting it off, it'll never get done."

"I'm not putting it off. I'm prioritizing physical contact with my lady right now."

"You just don't want to mount the TV."

"It's a pain in the ass to mount that thing." Henry groaned, looking at the still heavily wrapped TV leaned against the wall.

"It's your TV."

"And I did the sensible thing and paid extra for someone else to fight with it the second time I moved."

"We should have done that with all the furniture."

"Feels less personal, though."

"That's true. Now come on, big guy. We've got stuff to move around." Faye sighed, sliding from his lap and offering her hand to him to help him off the couch, not that he needed it. She would take any excuse she could to touch him, however.

The pair got to work, Henry doing the literal heavy lifting despite Faye's protest that she could move things on her own. They managed to get the furniture - minus the TV - in place; Briar occasionally popping in with a new snack every time, offering each a bite before scampering off again. Faye was putting Briar's toys in her toy chest while Henry went through the boxes, looking for any others containing toys.

"Oh, I found the bath toys!" Henry announced, holding the box up proudly.

"Oh, great. Briar's going to be thrilled when she takes her next bath." Faye sighed in relief. To say the little girl had been less than thrilled to have a plain no-toys-or-bubbles bath was an understatement. As it turns out, no more tears shampoo does not apply when the cause of the tears is from lack of toys.

Henry was putting the toys in the cabinet, down low where Briar would be able to choose what she wanted for herself, when he first saw it. It was a blue and white box with one particular word that grabbed his attention without even trying.

"Faye?" He called, his heart in his throat as he picked up the box, raising a brow at her when she appeared in the doorway, unable to force himself to form words.

"I haven't taken it yet." Faye admitted, seeming to shrink in front of his eyes, the words on the box staring accusingly at her.

Tesco Health Pregnancy Tests

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 3.4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

The white noise rings your ears.   It’s cramped — your legs are aching and you try to shift your other butt cheek off to alleviate the soreness of your bottom. There’s a baby crying a few rows away, the lavatory doors opening and closing, and not to mention, the constant whirring of the plane engine.    You look over to your left. The bitch Jeon Jungkook stole the window seat and now he’s oblivious to your suffering. His doe eyes are pinpointed on the small screen in front of him, headphones in, watching some kind of action movie. Your eyes stray to the screen for a second, but the flashing gets too much and you shut your lids.   You should’ve gotten one of those neck pillows to rest in, even if they were grossly overpriced at the airport.   But there’s no other choice. You put your elbow on the armrest, palm trying to hold up your heavy head and support the weight. As you doze off, your head bobs painfully. You lean back again, trying to find a spot, but to no avail. You nod off again and your neck nearly snaps.   Jungkook suddenly takes off his headphones. “Hey. You can use my shoulder, you know.”   “It’s fine,” you mumble, waving him off.   He stares at you for a second and then goes back to watching.   Though out of the corner of his eye a few minutes later, he notices your head lolling down, neck snapping again. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Tch.”   And Jungkook guides your head gently to his shoulder. Then, he flops his head on top of yours to keep it in place. Your breathing eventually steadies and he smiles, returning to his movie.   //   It’s a relief when you finally touch down and after several minutes, you’re finally able to grab your luggage and shuffle off the aircraft after hours of sitting there. Every bone in your body aches from the stiff seat, but you begin to feel a lot better when you step out of the airport.   The balmy weather hits you, the warm temperature embracing your being. You inhale the fresh air, able to see the blue ocean hugging the horizon, shimmering in the bright sunlight.    “Welcome to Tahiti, kids!” Namjoon looks over at the scenery with an equally satisfied expression as his wife. “Taxi ride is only six minutes away.”   “How was the flight for you two?” Sejeong asks.   “Not bad,” you answer, stepping on Jungkook’s foot when he mumbles something about his shoulder being sore and he laughs at your feigned ignorance.   The car drives all four of you to the resort and once you arrive, you’re overwhelmed by the warm welcome the people greet you with. The place is called the Intercontinental Tahiti Resort and Spa and it’s especially fancy for what you’re usually used to.   The lobby is grand, white pillars and high ceilings, bustling with tourists. There are people walking back and forth, flowers in their hair and around their necks, women’s dresses flowing, kids running about. The scent of the salted ocean fills your senses as the air conditioning cools your skin. You can’t believe you’re here.   “Feel free to get settled in today, you two. Take a look around and relax. We start baking tomorrow.” Sejeong hands you the confirmation forms to check yourselves in.    Both her and Namjoon are staying at one of the junior suite bungalows. They apologize for only being able to book the standard room for you and Jungkook, but you’re more than thankful already considering that this was a trip all-paid for.   You two are next in line at the lobby as Namjoon and Sejeong wave farewell, dragging their suitcases with them.    The woman behind the desk smiles. “Hello. How can I help you today?”   “We have a reservation.”   “Of course. Let’s take a look here.” She scans the paper and begins typing. “And your name is Jeon Jungkook?”   “That’s me.” He offers an ID and she nods, eyes skimming over it with a smile.   The woman hands over the key card and a booklet set with pamphlets. “Your room is two hundred twenty three on the second floor. Breakfast and lunch is included, this is also non-refundable. Your check out time will be at eleven a.m. There’s a few packages you can take advantage of during your time here. Room service is twenty four hours. If you ever need anything, feel free to call or come down to the lobby and we’ll help you out. Enjoy your stay!”   He nods slowly, but the woman looks off to the next people in line and you stop her before she can call them. “Wait. Is there….uh...my room?” You point to yourself.   She looks at you and then at her monitor. “It says two people are staying in this room. The standard room, correct?”   “Yes, but there’s supposed to be two rooms. One person in each, not one room.”   The woman takes the papers again, shuffling all of them. She types something into her computer and then shakes her head. “My apologies, it still says there’s two people staying in one room.”   “There must be some sort of mistake.”   “Should I call Namjoon?” Jungkook holds up his phone, brows knitted together.   “No, we shouldn’t bother them.” You don’t want to when it was clear they had plans to enjoy themselves for the rest of the day. With a sigh, you lean over the counter to the woman. “Umm...is there another room I can book?”   “Let me take a look here for you.” She clicks away. You wait with bated breath and yet again with your shittiest luck, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It looks like we’re fully booked here until the end of the month.”   You’re at a loss and you plead with the woman again as if it’ll somehow help. “Is there really nothing you can do?”   “My apologies. There aren’t any rooms available, so there’s nothing we can do at this time. We can give you free vouchers to the lounge area if you’d like for the trouble you’ve been through.” She takes something from underneath the front desk and slides it across the counter. “We get our wine from the famous winery here in French Polynesia.”   You don’t cry. Even if you want to.   But you take the vouchers since it’s still better than nothing.   When you’re off at the sidelines, Jungkook stands with you, suitcases by your side. “We can go talk to Sejeong and Namjoon.”   “Then what? They’re fully booked.”   “Then you can stay with Sejeong and I’ll stay with Namjoon.”   “They’re at a bungalow, Jungkook. This is practically their second honeymoon and I don’t want to bother them.” You take a deep breath and shrug. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. We’ll just stay together.”   “Are you sure?” Jungkook’s brows lift, eyeing you.   “Psh. Why not? We’re friends.” You bat your hand. “And I don't have germs or cooties like you think I do, Jeon. Promise I shower every day, so you don’t have to worry about it.”   The man scoffs with a small smile. “Fine by me then.”   But in spite of you the both trying to convince yourselves, it’s not a fantastic situation.   The room has a one king-sized bed, not two twins like you had hoped on your way up the elevator. It’s a whopping three hundred and seven square feet to share with Jungkook. One bathroom to your left as you enter, the bed taking up most of the space, a cabinet with a television and one table with two chairs.   You slide the glass doors open to let in fresh air. The private terrace is small too.   At any other time, you wouldn’t mind dorming with your best friend but considering the circumstances of your relationship lately, you can feel the tension in the air. It makes your palms sweaty.   “This is a really nice place,” you breathe out.   “Yeah.” Jungkook drops his duffle bag by the table. “There’s not even a sofa. Should we request one?”   “Where would we even fit it?”   “Right.”   You look around. Even if Jungkook would opt to sleep on the floor, there’s no spot for him unless he wants to lay underneath the table. Or in the hallway by the bathroom door where you could potentially step on him in the middle of the night during a trip to the toilet.   “We’ll make do,” you reassure. “We can sleep with our heads on opposite ends.”   “What if I kick you in the middle of the night?” he asks and when your expression washes over into impassivity, he grins. “Just saying. Can’t promise I won’t….”   “Fine. We’ll sleep normally. The bed is big anyway and sorry, Jeon, but your muscles aren’t as massive as you think they are.”   He laughs and falls back onto the soft mattress like it’s a pile of snow and he’s trying to make a snow angel. In one second, he’s ruined the fresh sheets and wrinkled them. “What do you think you’re doing?!”   Jungkook lifts his head. “What?”   “You’re lying on our bed with your dirty clothes.” You approach and try to push him off to no avail. “We were just on a plane for god knows how long.”   The boy grins and gets up. “God, you’re so uptight.”   “No, I’m clean,” you correct, glaring. “We’re not living like pigs. Try being neat for once. Just for a week.”   Jungkook sighs and as he brushes past you to the balcony, he ruffles your hair tenderly. “You’re lucky I like you.”   You scoff, trying to fix your hair while watching his broad backside, how he leans on the railing to soak in the view.   In the free time that you have, you get yourself cleaned up and take advantage of the bathtub for a bubble bath. You indulge as much as you can, trying to enjoy the resort before you have to start working hard on the cake.   You come out wearing one of your sun dresses and Jungkook looks up from his phone.   “Pretty,” he murmurs while a tiny, modest smile spreads into his cheeks.   You swallow hard, trying to keep your face from heating like a furnace. “Of course. What else would you expect of me?”   Jungkook laughs boyishly. “That’s true.”   You didn’t expect such a genuine response. But he doesn’t pay any mind to how caught off guard you are, merely getting up from his spot and grabbing clothes from his luggage. “My turn. You better wait for me. I don’t want to walk around by myself.”   “Or else what?” you taunt playfully.   Jungkook’s eyes darken right before he shuts the door. “Or else I’ll tackle you.”   Unfortunately for him, of all the things he was worried about, he didn’t consider the bathroom part. The moment the door closes, the scent of your shampoo and body wash surrounds him. It’s suffocating, thick in the air. He’s overwhelmed in your aroma and his pants unwillingly stir.   Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek, frustrated by his predicament and it hasn’t even been a full hour yet.   By the time he’s out of the bathroom, you're appalled.   “What took you so long?! Did you take three dumps?!”   “No,” he sharply answers and you don’t push when he’s surprisingly so defensive about it.   “Well, let’s go before it gets too late.” You grab the vouchers and swiftly exit your room.   Jungkook is decked out in a full tourist outfit — khaki shorts and a blue collared shirt. You’re in a floral print dress that would look perfect paired with your sun hat, but you’re saving the outfit for another day.   The two of you walk around, taking a peek at all the facilities they offer — the spa, swimming pool, tiki bar, restaurants, gift shops, and the venue where the wedding is being set up. You run into Chungha and her fiancé too. He introduces himself while she embraces you, thanking the both of you for coming and hoping the flight went well. But the pair of them only linger briefly to talk before they’re running off to take care of other things.   After grabbing a bite to eat, you and Jungkook decide to take advantage of your lounge vouchers.   “Are you sure this is alcohol?” You swirl the deep liquid inside your glass. Taking a sip and smacking your lips together, you try to decipher the taste on your tongue. “Tastes more like grape juice.”   Jungkook smells his own drink. “This one tastes like raspberries. They said it was alcohol though.”   “Huh. It’s pretty good then.”   He hums, taking another mouthful.   “Would you like another, miss and sir?” The waiter comes by with a kind smile and a cloth draped over his arm like a personal butler. “You still have credit on your voucher.”   You look at Jungkook who shrugs. “Might as well use it all.”   “What would you recommend?” You direct your attention to the waiter.    Between you and Jungkook, you both try nearly every kind of wine they offer.   You muse that the woman at the front desk must’ve felt really guilty to give you such a great deal. But you don't feel so upset anymore over having to share a room with Jungkook. At least not once you’ve gotten a taste of all the berry wines, another grape, fruit wine, dried cranberry, and one licorice flavored.    While you’re not a wine expert and there’s little you can comment on, aside from the fact that it’s very fruity and the acidity is high, you can tell it’s delicious. You actually forget it’s alcohol.   You give the beer a chance, but it’s disgusting enough for you to give the entire thing to Jungkook.   You don't keep count on how much you drink with him, but it’s enough that the waiter comes by with some glasses of water.   Your words slur together. “You know what I hate?”    “What?” Jungkook languidly grins, an easy smile on his features that has you feeling some kind of way.   “Everything. But also small spoons. I can’t eat out of a teaspoon! Why do they think I want to eat my ice-cream or crème brûlée with a—”   “Toothpick,” Jungkook finishes your sentence as laughter bubbles out his throat.   Your spine straightens and you look at him in surprise. Did he read your mind? “Yeah! How’d you know?”   “I think you’ve told me before.”   You wonder if you’ve really spent that much time with him that he knows such a small detail, but you’re baffled at how he can recall so easily. “How’d you remember?”   Jungkook shrugs and then burps. You wrinkle your nose until you hiccup too.   The boy is resting his head in his hand, elbow propped up on the table. His lids are seemingly heavy, every blink slow and gradual. But he stares at you intently like you’ve got something on your face. “Do you hate me?”   “Sometimes,” you answer truthfully without missing a beat. “But not really.”   “You don’t hate that I like you?” He leans in closer, but you don’t mind. If anything, he’s too far for your liking. You like it when he’s close.    You tap the tip of Jungkook’s nose like he often does to you. “I couldn’t hate you, hate you. You’re my best friend, silly.”   “I can’t be more than that?”   “I don’t know. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”   “I do.”   You pout, eyes straying off and then you gasp. “Look! The sun’s going down. You know what I’ve always wanted to do, Kookie? Walk on the beach to watch the sunset. We should go look!”   He follows after you, but not before stopping to ask for the bill until the waiter reminds him that it was all free of charge.    You and Jungkook happily hop across the resort with you leaning on his arm. “You think we’d get kicked out if they knew we were drunk?”   “Why?”   “Cause public intoxication. Is a resort public?”   “I think so. Just don’t make it obvious.”   “How do I not make it obvious?”   “Maybe stop giggling and whispering to me,” Jungkook says louder than what your voices have been and laughs at your reaction. The pair of you get onto the beach, stumbling together.   The sky is painted in orange and pink hues, the golden hour glowing on your skin. You can hear the sound of the waves lightly crashing against the shoreline, the spray of the salty mist in the air, the tide bubbling and fizzing away.   But it’s hard to enjoy it when you’re bumbling all over the place. “Ugh! I hate the sand!”   “Then why’d you wanna walk on it?” Jungkook giggles, holding onto you before you trip.   “I don’t know. Cause ‘s romantic, I guess.”   But at the moment, it isn’t romantic at all. There’s sand grating in between your toes, exfoliating your feet and hurting with every step you take. You swear it’s going to get in your underwear somehow.   You step towards the shore where the sand is flat and softer, wet by the water and where it’s more bearable. “Woah. The water’s so blue.”   Jungkook treads right up to where the tide kisses the beach. He quietly observes, watching the ocean and you come up behind him. When the timing is right, you shove the boy with all your might.   “Fuc—” He shouts, loses balance and puts his weight onto his knees, kneeling in the water.    You laugh hysterically, cackles coming from your stomach. You bend over, hugging your stomach. The boy stands up in dismay, shaking water from his hands. His khaki pants are completely soaked like he peed himself. “Why I oughta—”   “Stop! Jungkook!” You shriek with tipsy laughter as he starts chasing after you. “I’m sorry!”   “Too late!” He screams back and sprints after you as fast as he can with a dark vengeance. You obviously don’t make it far with sand flailing everywhere and his legs being longer than yours. Jungkook ends up grabbing you by the waist and pushing you into the sand. “Ha!”   He starts to laugh in absolute mirth, taking pleasure in your demise as sand gets into your underwear. Now it’s going to follow you around for the rest of your life.    “I just showered!” You laugh, getting up and trying to get rid of the tiny grains to no avail.   “How do you think I feel?” His grin is infectious and Jungkook tries to wring out his soaked khakis. Watching him makes you giggle. “It’s fine. We can shower together afterwards. It’ll be quick and painless.”   “Yeah? In your dreams, Jeon Jungkook!”   “Oh, it’ll be in my dreams alright,” he teases, astounding you with his outright shamelessness.   The both of you eventually calm down enough to realize you probably look crazy screaming at each other on the beach during the calm sunset. You slowly make your way back, still infected by drunken giggles that seem to be unable to stop.   Jungkook tries to walk without his wet shorts sticking to his skin and you take off your sandals altogether, attempting to clap them free of sand. On your way back, however, you’re interrupted by a cute lifeguard getting off her shift. She’s a beach blonde with a beautiful tan who boldly introduces herself to Jungkook. She even shakes his hand and invites him to a beach party happening tonight, leaving the two of you utterly stunned.   When she leaves, you wiggle your brows.   “What was all that?”   “You tell me.”   You grin at him. “Are you going to go to that party?”   “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you from losing your balance before you make it back to the hotel room. “I’d rather spend time with you.”   “Psh. Sorry to say, Jeon, but I’m pretty boring.”   “No, you’re not.” He looks down at you, an endeared smile gracing his features that makes you divert your vision elsewhere.   You feign nonchalance. “She was cute. You should totally go for it! Get it while you’re still young. You’re not always going to attract the ladies like this, you know! Gotta take advantage of it as it comes.”   Jungkook laughs in that boyish way that makes you feel funny. “Why would I need to when you’re the only person that actually matters.”   You almost choke on your own spit.   Jungkook laughs, lightly knocking his head against yours.   “I’d rather you’d be the one to notice me.”   Little does Jungkook know you do far more than notice him.