#to get a pair of pants for work and a bag of espresso . with my moms card

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I'm going on a little shopping trip. For my mental health

[kaiijo]

WORK WIFE — KUROO TETSUROU

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem! reader content: fluff, timeskip! kuroo (he’s so sexy)

you’re not really sure when kuroo started calling you his ‘work wife,’ but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. like many of your colleagues, you’ve been taken in by his teasing smile and charm and the way he brings you your coffee and bagel in the morning, just the way you like it. “good morning, wifey,” he says as he hands you your breakfast with a flourish. “vanilla latte with oat milk and an extra shot of espresso and a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese.” 

you smile and thank him, sliding the bagel out from the waxy paper bag. you glance back inside and sheepishly open your mouth but kuroo beats you to the punch. “and, of course, your stirrer.” he sticks his hand in the pocket of his slate gray slacks and produces a wooden stirrer. 

you chuckle, “you keep those in your pants just for me?”

“a gentleman always is prepared for a lady!”

“‘gentleman,’” you snort. 

kuroo presses a hand over his heart. “i am a gentleman through and through!”

“uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” you take a sip of your drink. “but thanks again for breakfast.”

he pats your head and sings out, “anything for my favorite work wife!”

“i better be your only one!” he laughs loudly at your reply, the sound bouncing off the walls as he heads down the hall to his office. 

when lunchtime rolls around, kuroo, as usual, appears in your doorway with his lunch in hand. he never has the same thing, you’ve come to learn; today’s meal is grilled fish over rice, and kuroo asks, “up for a lunch date?”

you try to fight the warmth rising to your cheeks, still not used to his wording despite the many times he’s asked the exact same thing. you shake your head and sigh, “unfortunately, i’m behind on inputting the quarter two estimations so i think i’ll be working through lunchtime.”

kuroo still walks into your office and comes around to look at your computer screen. “have you been doing these all by hand?”

“yeah?”

“here, there’s an easier way to generate these estimates.” with a few clicks and keystrokes, you watch as numbers and figures fill the spreadsheet cells before your very eyes. you slump back in your chair, relieved. you glance up at kuroo. he’s so close that you can very clearly smell the way his cologne mingles with his minty toothpaste. your breath hitches as he stares down at you with pride. “you’re a lifesaver.”

“had to save my lunch time with my work wife.”

you stifle a yawn as you save your last pitch for the budget board and power off your computer. you looked out the window, the sun beginning to set on the horizon. you roll your chair away and stretch your hold body out, humming in relief as someone knocks on your door. it’s not hard to guess who it is. “come in.”

“hey,” kuroo pokes his head inside, blazer folded across his arm and his lanyard in hand. “ready to go?”

“yep, let me just get my stuff.” you gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder, locking up your office and following kuroo out. you walk side-by-side in comfortable, tired silence until you get out of the building. “how was the merch presentation?”

“oh, it went really well,” he says. “thanks for letting me co-opt your time for rehearsal.”

“you know i always have time for you.”

kuroo gives you a smile that’s almost way too soft and sweet for you to handle, and you quickly avert your eyes to the street in front of you as you two come to the metro stop. he asks about how your younger brother is settling into college and you inquire about his grandparents, and it’s an endless stream of conversation as you two board the metro together. 

“oh,” kuroo says suddenly, voice shifting to a quieter tone. “i’ve been meaning to ask, do you want to—?”

you desperately want to hear the end of his question but you’re coming up to your stop and you have to hurry home to walk your dog. “sorry! text me the question?”

he shakes his head. “i’ll tell you later. see you tomorrow, wifey.”

you wave to him over the shoulder as the doors close behind you, and you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest and burning curiosity about what he’ll ask you. 

it’s the next day when your boss calls you into her office, asking you to let the newest employee to the sports promotion division shadow you for a little while until he gets the hang of what you guys do. his name’s nakamura eijun and he seems nice enough so you agree.

nakamura’s in your office as you go over how the jva’s filing and record-keeping online works when kuroo comes in with your daily breakfast. you sit up straighter, ready for him to finish whatever question he was about to ask. 

he stops short when he sees nakamura and asks, “new guy?” nakamura nods and introduces himself, to which kuroo responds with an enthusiastic “i’m kuroo tetsurou. welcome to the team!” and without your usual banter, kuroo drops off your bagel and coffee and leaves without another word. 

he peeks into your office again at lunch and you’re about to wave him inside, but he shakes his head and says, “i’ll come back later!”

he doesn’t. you don’t see kuroo for the rest of the day, which makes your heart sink. it’s the first time in months that he hasn’t followed the unconscious routine the two of your started. you try to look at the silver-lining. kuroo (and thinking about kuroo) is your main distraction of the day, so maybe it was a good thing he didn’t show up so you couldn’t make a fool of yourself. 

what unnerves you, though, is that the following days are much the same. kuroo silently brings you your breakfast and peeks in every now and then, smile never quite meeting his eyes as he sees you eating with nakamura in your office. the days stretch to weeks and you realize two things: one — that kuroo’s avoiding you, and two — nakamura’s a lot less capable than you thought he would be, given that he’s still shadowing you after about two and a half weeks. 

thankfully, you get a little reprieve when nakamura informs you that he’s out sick for the day. you perk up when kuroo comes in with your breakfast and give him your chirpiest “good morning.”

he leans up against your doorframe, glancing around. “your new work husband’s not here today?”

“what are you talking about?”

he says, “your new work husband. he have some emergency or something?”

you frown at his tone. “sorry, let me be more specific. who are you talking about?”

“nakamura,” he responds. finally, he crosses the threshold and hands you your bagel and coffee, the stirrer already inside the bagel bag. he plops down heavily in his chair, arms folded across his chest. 

“you know you’re my one and only,” you say, offering a smile. when he doesn’t reply, your smile fades and you ask, “why do you think he’s my new work husband?”

“he’s been telling everyone that you two spend so much time together that he might as well be.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes and you reach across the desk, tapping your hand on the surface to get kuroo’s attention. he finally meets your gaze and you say, “we’ve been spending a lot of time together because sakura asked me to let him shadow and he’s—” you lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper, prompting kuroo to lean in closer, “—not very smart.”

“really?” 

you watch as the tension kuroo held in his shoulders disappeared and something like relief washed across his features. you can’t help but laugh a little, “really. is that what got you so grumpy these past few days?”

“hey!” he protests, “i wasn’t grumpy. pouty, maybe, but definitely never grumpy.”

“sure, sure.” you pause and then ask, “why were you so bothered by nakamura saying he’s like my work husband?”

kuroo’s face flushes and with an uncharacteristic shyness, he says, “because, y’know, that’s— that’s our thing. and i’m not too keen on letting someone steal my wife away.”

“good to know you’re a protective husband.”

he chuckles and says, “well, gotta get back to the trenches. those advertisement pitches aren’t going to pitch themselves.”

“don’t i know it.”

as he goes to leave, he hesitates in the doorway. then, he turns back to you and asks, “would you like to have dinner with me tonight? if you’re not doing anything, of course.”

your eyebrows raise but you can’t help the bright smile from breaking across your face. “yeah, that sounds great.”

a year and a half later.

nakamura and you are sitting in the conference room, brainstorming ways to help boost the sendai frogs’s popularity. nakamura taps his pen against his chin and suggests, “maybe we should tell koganegawa to stop yelling so much?”

“no, their fans like his enthusiasm,” you say. 

“well, tsukishima’s their most popular player… maybe we can ask him to ramp up the fanservice. as in, do any.”

you snort but before you can make some snarky comment about how that absolutely will not happen, a voice comes from behind you. “you’re signing a death wish with that. no way tsukki’ll bite.”

nakamura’s face sours and he mumbles something as kuroo towers over both of you. you grin at him in greeting and give him a playfully chastising look, adding, “you’re right but you know it’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”

“just making sure my wife—” he gives nakamura a very pointed look, “—knows who she’s dealing with.”

you quirk an eyebrow. “your wife is a very capable woman, thank you very much.”

he smirks and bends down closer, deepening his tone. “oh, i know.”

nakamura scowls. “we get it, she’s your work wife.”

“actually…” kuroo’s shit-eating grin grows wide like a cat who got the cream and simultaneously, both of you hold up your left hands, matching silver bands glinting under the fluorescent lights. “she’s my wife-wife now.”

[eleganzadellarosa]

Coparenting

pairing: babydaddy!Jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI)

warnings: dom!Jaehyun, slight breeding kink, daddy kink, rough sex, make up sex, hair pulling, spanking, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names (baby, my girl, sunshine, baby mama(he literally calls her this once as a joke), baby girl), slight pussydrunk Jae, mentions of underage drinking

word count: 10,373

AN: I wanted to write something for Jaehyun and this plot came to me so I wrote it out :) enjoy and thanks for reading! <3

You: You really fucked up this time Jae

Jae: I don’t know what to say…

You: Maybe sorry? You never actually say sorry

Jae: I’ll be there for you both, you know that

You: Whatever Jae, you know where to send the money

You kept the last text messages you sent each other to read them whenever you felt yourself falling back into an unrealistic fantasy, just to remind you why you broke up in the first place.

You were young, he was young. 19 to be exact. It was freshman year of college and one thing lead to another and you decided to keep the baby. He wasn’t against it but deep down you both knew you weren’t ready for parenthood quite yet. You had 6 years of dating history with him, having met him in your first year of high school. It wasn’t until you got pregnant that his personality changed and it lead him to do stupid things.

“You’re going to be a dad soon Jae, you can’t just act like that’s not a thing.”

“Who said I wasn’t? I’m literally just trying to live my life as a normal 19 year old! We’re not getting this age back so you can’t be mad!”

He didn’t understand at the time and you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up to know if he’s matured in any way. You loved him and you know he loved you, but there was no way you could handle the stress of him changing so suddenly.

“Come on baby, you have to come put your shoes on now” you called from the kitchen as you packed the small lunchbox into a backpack not much larger.

Being a single mom was difficult but you loved your daughter enough to look past all the hardships. You worked your ass off to make sure she went to a good school to get the best education since you didn’t have the luxury of staying home to teach her yourself.

She runs into the living room across from the kitchen and sits on the floor by the front door to slip on her shoes. You smile to yourself when you see she’s getting the hang of putting them on the correct foot.

You grabbed her backpack and your lunch bag and rushed to put your shoes on as well. You checked her outfit one last time before walking out the door.

It was routine to take her inside and to her classroom, making sure she made it safely and to greet her teacher every morning.

“Hi Mia! Let’s all say good morning to Mia!” the teacher waved both her hands to get the kids’ attention.

“Good morning Mia!” they all shouted in unison and a few of them ran up to hug her.

You stopped her to exchange your goodbye kisses before she ran off with her friends. “Thank you so much, I will be back later to pick her up.” You waved to her teacher as you walked toward the door.

“Of course, you have a great day!”

It was also routine for you to make a quick stop at the local cafe for a hot drink before work, usually choosing anything that goes good with two shots of espresso. When you walked in, a mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and every other fall scent filled the air, making it clear of the changing seasons.

The man in front of you stood tall and browsed the many options on the overhead menu. “Must be new”you thought. Ever since you moved to this small town, you’ve grown used to seeing familiar faces, so someone not knowing what they wanted from the menu in such a popular cafe was strange.

He was handsome from the back. Dark chocolate locks slightly slicked back minus the few strands that fell to the front and a great sense of style. He wore a simple brown turtleneck under a black jacket with black pants and shoes to match. He looked expensive. You stopped staring at him so intensely when he finally spoke up to order.

“I’ll go with the pumpkin spice latte, and add two shots of espresso please.”

Funny, that’s exactly what you planned on ordering. Great fashion sense and good taste? Now you were curious if his face matched his handsome image from the back. To your dismay, he went straight over to sit at one of the corner tables by the window, back turned toward you.

“Hey, great morning we’re having! What can I get ya?” the cashier at the front greeted you as she always does, seeming to always have a smile on her face.

“Uh, I’ll actually order what he did” you pointed in the dapper man’s direction and she nodded her head as she pressed a few buttons on the screen.

“That’ll be $3.75”

You took your card out of your wallet and tapped it against the card reader. You went to sit at your favorite seat and wait for your order to be called.

“Pumpkin spice latte, two shots of espresso!”

You looked up from your phone and watched the barista push two identical cups forward on the counter in the pickup area. As you approached your drink, you looked over to see the man still sitting in his seat. He must not have heard them call out the order, but taking a quick glance at your watch there was no way you had time to be a good samaritan and make it to work on time.

You picked up your latte and walked toward the door, taking one last look back to see if you would witness him getting his drink before you fully stepped out. Surprisingly, he got up from his seat and turned around to go over and retrieve his order. You felt cold, body frozen with your hand on the “push to open” door. Your hands were trembling, drink barely secure in them. Your heart dropped.

There he was, in the flesh. The father of your child and the man you once called “the love of your life”. You moved to this town to start a new life and get away from having possible run ins with him, but seeing as he was standing in the cafe you visited everyday like clockwork, your plan to stay hidden had been ruined. You quickly turned around before he looked in your direction and pushed the door open.

You stared at the road in a daze, driving with your limbs on autopilot. It’s going on 5 years since you’ve seen him last and could have gone the rest of your life without doing so.

You had to admit, seeing him made you realize how much he blossomed more into an adult in such a short amount of time. You missed him, but had to think of the text messages that still sat in your phone today. You could never let yourself fall down that hole again, especially for your daughter’s sake. You hated Mia not knowing her father, but it was best for now that she didn’t get attached to someone who might not stay.

You parked your car in the lot, hands still gripping the steering wheel, your head falling forward on the horn. It was going to be tough getting through your shift today with the anxiety bubbling up in you. What was he doing here anyways? To you, he had no business in this small town. There was nothing too exciting about the place and it seemed to house mostly people 30 and above.

Whatever he was here for, you hoped it was only for today and you didn’t have to go through seeing him on a regular basis.

4 o’clock came sooner than you expected, probably thanks to how unfocused you were all day. Right now your daughter was the only thing on your mind and you wanted to pick her up quickly so she didn’t wait longer than need be.

“Mommy mommy! Look, I got a sticker!” she runs up to you with her arm extended to show you the sticky image on the back of her hand.

“Wooow baby, it’s so nice! Who gave that to you?”

“Mrs. Burgess! She said I did really good on my writing my name today!”

You smiled and patted her on the head, picking her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Great job my Mia, mommy’s so proud! You have to show mommy how you write your name later okay?”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck as you opened the back passenger door for her to sit in her car seat. After strapping her in, you slid in the front ready to get home and end the day.

“Mommy, next week is parent’s day! Everyone made paper flowers for their mommies and daddies.”

“Ooo a surprise for mommy? I can’t wait to see it!”

“Yes! I made one for daddy too so tell him to come too!”

You froze in your seat, taking a peek at her from the rear view mirror. “Mia…daddy’s not here remember?” you swallowed thickly, hoping that she would skip over her mistake and leave the conversation alone.

“Why can’t daddy come this one time? I want to give daddy his flower.”

You were stumped. As much as you tried to prepare yourself for this day, your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to contact him, you didn’t want to see him, you just didn’t want to get hurt again. You weren’t even sure if he had the same number if you did want to shoot him a text. You were the one to break up with him because of his antics and you were also the reason why he had never come to visit. From changing your number to moving to a whole different city, you tried to erase your identity from his memory.

It wasn’t something you wanted to worry about and you hoped your daughter would simply forget by the time next week came around.

The next morning, you went back to the cafe, heart not racing until you look over at where he sat yesterday. Thankfully no one who matched the description sat there now and you considered yourself off the hook. What were the chances he had actually moved to this city and yesterday was one of many days you’d run into each other?

“Hey Emma, same as yesterday please!” you smiled at your normal cashier and went to go sit in your usual spot after you paid.

“Y/N?” The voice sounded unsure, cautious, in disbelief. When you turned around, his eyes matched the tone of the words that left his mouth. “Oh my god, it really is you! You look…good.”

Your mind was going haywire. Jaehyun was standing merely inches away from you, looking just as good as he did yesterday in much more comfortable attire.

“Hey Jae.” you said weakly, “Yeah, you too.”

“I uh…would have paid for your drink if I knew it was you.” He smiled his signature smile. That damn smile and those stupid dimples. It took everything in you to not slap the look off his face. “C-can you talk? It’s been a while.”

Admittedly you didn’t have to be to work for another hour and a half, so you had time since it was only 30 minutes away and traffic was still good. You were indeed curious what he wanted to talk about but didn’t want it to turn out like it did the many times you played it out in your head. It wouldn’t hurt to try though.

“Uhhhh yeah sure.”

He smiled as if he high-fived himself for getting you to agree and he followed you back to your table after grabbing the drinks.

“How have you been? I hadn’t seen you around and now I know why.”

“I’ve been good, just working. And yeah, I’ve been here. How have you been?” You looked down at your cup and let your thumbs play with the sides.

“I’ve been good too. Working mostly, nothing special.”

You nodded your head and gave him a small smile, having the courage to finally look up at him.

“How’s the little one?” he asked hesitantly but you knew it would come out eventually.

“Mia? She’s good. She’s in kindergarten now.”

His eyes widened and the grip on his cup got a bit tighter. You forgot he didn’t know the name you chose since you moved before you went into labor and never got the chance to discuss any of those things.

“Wow, I see I missed a lot…”

“Yeah Jae, you did.”

“Well if you don’t mind, I can change that. I’m actually in the process of moving here in like 2 weeks. I can take her to school some days and watch her too to take something off your plate.”

Fear welled up in your chest at the mention of him taking her since it felt like he would never bring her back. “I’m actually not comfortable with that at all. I’m not sure she needs someone so unstable this early in her life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well I don’t know Jae, I was alone my entire pregnancy so I’m not sure I can trust you to be there for her.”

He looked down and his jaw shifted, mouth hanging from the scoff he let out. “I know what I did was wrong and I’m very sorry about that, but you moved and changed your number before you even had her so what the hell was I supposed to do?!”

You knew he was right but you hated that he dismissed the reason you left in the first place. This conversation was a bad idea just like you thought it would be and you didn’t want it to last any longer than it needed to. You stared at him with a deadpan expression and stood up from your seat. He grabbed your arm and sat you back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come across so harshly. I just wanted to be there for the both of you and that wasn’t the easiest thing. I know I made some mistakes but I would never leave our daughter like that.”

“My daughter and I don’t know if I can trust that Jae. I don’t want to see her sad.”

“I promise you I wouldn’t want to see either of my girls sad. Give me your number, I can text you when I get settled in and we can discuss this some more.”

It felt like the energy in the earth shifted while you handed him your phone. That “my girls” shit you completely ignored and had no time to fall for one of his tricks. Why did it have to come to this, you not trusting anything he says?

When you got in your car and drove off, tears streamed down your face. In some way you felt defeated like he broke through the defenses that you so effortlessly built. It was scary, him reentering your life right after your daughter mentioned the parent event at school.

A week passed and you had forgotten all about parent’s day until the morning of when Mia told you “not to forget to tell daddy to come”. She never worried about this man before or maybe you were so stuck on keeping him away that you didn’t notice how much she wanted him around.

Ding

Jae: Hey, I just wanted to ask if you could send me some pictures of Mia? I don’t want to go crazy and ask for all of them, but I wanna see her from day one.

You stared down at the text and then looked at the date. According to him at the cafe, he should be here next week and you knew he’d want to see her. You also knew that if you told him about Mia’s flower for him, he’d be over asap. Not yet you thought. Him meeting her would have to wait until he got here and until you were ready. For now, pictures would have to suffice.

Jae: She’s so gorgeous 💕

Jae: She looks a lot like you I think but she definitely has my dimples!

The comparison made you sick. You knew it was his kid but you tried not to see his side of it. Fuck, this was gonna end so badly, you could feel it. One more week, one more week before you had to deal with whatever he threw your way and truthfully you weren’t ready to catch it.

It was time to pick up Mia and attend the parent’s day event. You walked inside the classroom and smiled at all the other parents and teachers that you passed by. Seeing all the couples made you realize just how single you were and you lowkey wished Jaehyun was here to make it not feel so awkward.

Mia’s eyes lit up when she saw you and ran over with your flower in one hand and his in the other.

“Did daddy come too?!”

You chuckled awkwardly and shook your head. She looked up at you for a few seconds before bursting out into tears, shocking you and everyone else in the classroom. You quickly picked her up to shush her but her feelings were hurt and you would be trying to comfort her for a while. Your poor baby, you hated doing this to her but she didn’t know how scary the whole situation was.

Maybe it was only scary for you and she would be just fine with everything if he decided to leave again. You missed him. His presence, his laugh…his dick. The relationship was going so strong and one small mistake messed it all up. Boys are so stupid you said to yourself while you rubbed her back and fought the tears building up in your eyes.

He never told you what day exactly he would be here but when the next week hit, your anxiety increased tenfold. He probably felt so good about himself for knowing you anticipated his call, text or even seeing him in the cafe again. You actually hadn’t seen him since the last time and you guessed it was because he had a few more things to sort out before he moved.

Ding

You looked down at your phone when you heard the notification. His name shines brightly on your phone and your palms get sweaty.

Jae: Hey Y/N, I just finished moving all my stuff in. I wanted to take you and Mia out to the park this weekend if you weren’t busy.

There it was. The time you knew was coming but still didn’t fully prepare for. He was once again taking control of the situation and you detest not being able to gain it back.

You: Hey Jae, sure what time and which park did you want to meet at?

He turned his read receipts on for you, so you knew he checked your message almost immediately. He gave you a time and place and said to also let him know if you were down for lunch. You felt the slight warmth in your heart, feeling like you did back when you used to date. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want your feelings for him to come back just because he was around again because you knew it would cloud your judgement.

If he messed up again, you would have the pleasure of telling him “I told you so” which gave you something to look forward to. When you got home and told Mia that "daddy wanted to see her", she almost went through the roof with how high she jumped. She even went to school and told all her friends about it. You had never seen her so excited for something and you hoped he didn't let her down.

When the weekend approached, you stood in front of your mirror staring at your outfit for too long. In reality, you weren't really looking at your outfit, you were stuck in another daze not mentally ready for what the day had to bring. You chose something between casual and cute just in case the park got you dirty. An oversized argyle sweater tucked in a pair of light blue jeans. As for your hair, you settled on some loose curls.

"Come on mommy, let's go see daddy!" Mia was already by the door putting on her shoes.

"Are you sure you're ready to see daddy?" you spoke to her as you straightened her clothes and added bows to her two pigtails. If she said no, you would have made up any excuse for her, but seeing how she couldn't sit still while you added her accessories meant that her backing out wasn't an option.

Ding

Jae: I'm omw there now, it's not too far from me so it won't take me long.

You: Okay, we're otw too.

You took your last deep breath before walking out the door. When you stepped out the car with Mia, she immediately ran over to get on the slide. You took a seat on the bench across from her, keeping an eye on her around all the other kids. You watched her aimlessly, thumbs twiddling as you waited.

"Hey."

You turned to see Jaehyun walking up to you with a bag in hand. He was dressed in a plain black tee covered by a burgundy cardigan, black jeans and black sneakers. God he looked so good, why did he have to be so damn fine?

"Oh hey." you smiled and waved lightly.

He sat next to you on the bench, knees touching.

"I brought Mia a gift. I'm not really sure what she likes but she always had a bear with her in her baby pics, figured she'd want an upgrade." He reached into the bag and pulled out a small plush rabbit, something you knew Mia would love. He reached in for something else, and pulled out a small box, handing it over to you. "I got you a little something too."

You raised both your eyebrows in shock and grabbed the box from him. You opened it to see a spa voucher for a full body massage and under it was a small dainty necklace with a single diamond on it. You loved simple jewelry liked this and apparently he remembered.

"Oh that's so thoughtful of you Jae, I really love it. Thank you."

He look relieved that he properly guessed what you'd like as a gift. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off by Mia.

"Daddy! Hi daddy!" she came running over to you both when she saw him sitting next to you.

Your heads shot in her direction and you looked over at him, the biggest smile spread across his face. He opened his arms and she crashed into the hug as he picked her up and sat her on his lap.

"Hi Mia! I'm so glad to see you, you look so pretty!"

"You look pretty too daddy, I'm so happy you came! Since you didn't come to my school, I'm going to give you your flower now!"

He looked over at you confused and you felt guilty for not telling him about the special day. She reached into her bag that sat next to you and pulled out the paper flower similar to the one she made for you. His face brightened and he leaned over to grab it.

"Wow Mia you did such a great job! Daddy has something for you too!"

Her face lights up and she jumps up and down. "Daddy has a gift for me mommy!" You laugh at her excitement and nod your head. She squealed and spun around with the rabbit he gave her and thanked him multiple times in a short minute. She went over to hug him again and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you daddy! She's my favorite!"

He laughed and rubbed her head before she sped off, back to whatever kids she made friends with.

"It's kind of unbelievable."

"What?" you didn't know what he meant but patiently waited for his answer.

"I can't believe we have a kid together and she's already this big. 5 years seems like such a long time."

"It is. A very long time actually." You caught a lump in your throat when you were forced back to the reality of the situation. Seeing him and Mia interact so well together makes you wish you could turn back time and start things off on a better foot. Jaehyun was a great guy and you knew that, but you couldn't forgive him for his immaturity back then.

You sat on top of the toilet, hands shaking and eyes watery looking at the positive result on the pregnancy test. You didn't mean for this to happen and didn't think it actually would happen. It's not like you and Jae never fucked raw, but his pullout game was usually top tier. You both got too caught up in the moment and he came in you with no hesitation. You thought everything would be fine since you immediately went to the bathroom, but the double lines staring back at you told you a different story.

You were scared, not because you didn't want a baby with him but that was a plan you made for years down the line. You were both freshmen in college and this would ultimately throw a few wrenches in both your plans. You knew he would be understanding though and that helped ease your mind some.

You: come over after the game, we gotta talk

Jae: 👀 uh oh babe, don't scare me like this. Is it bad?

You: not exactly...

You: just come over when you're done

There was a knock on your dorm door within the next 10 minutes and you know he stopped the game of basketball he was playing with his friends for you. Your feet dragged you to the door and you opened it, Jaehyun out of breath on the other side. His shirt was missing and sweat dripped off his body.

"What's wrong baby? Is everything okay?" he asked walking in and closing the door behind him.

You hated that the moment couldn't be better than you telling him in the living room of your slightly run down dorm. You grabbed the test out the pocket of your red pajama shorts and held it up so he could see it.

"Jae, I'm pregnant."

His eyes grew to the size of tomatoes as everything sank in and he stood there stiff as a board. You were starting to get nervous when he didn't say anything and wasn't really sure how to handle his reaction.

"Jae say something, you're scaring me..."

"I-oh my god...I mean baby I'm so happy but this is just so sudden."

"You came in me last month Jae, there was always a possibility. And you don't really look happy."

"I know baby, I know, I just didn't think it would actually happen." He pulled you into a hug a rubbed your back. "I'm happy for us, I really am and I know you'll be a great mom."

This all came as a shock to you too so his reaction wasn't far fetched. Everything that followed after is what surprised you. He barely ever spent time with you anymore and he was always out sneaking drinks with his friends. Jaehyun was never a fan of alcohol but the news of your pregnancy seemed to unleash a new side of him and you hated it.

One night a friend of his texted you to come get him because he was so drunk and feeling up on every girl at the party. It was disappointing and embarrassing, his behavior was outta control and he never had an explanation for it. You got to the party and saw him hugged up on some random girl who was taking advantage of the attention. You went over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ooooooooh, hey babe. I didn't know you were invited." His eyes were droopy and he slurred every word. He grabbed around your waist from the couch he sat on and leaned his head against your stomach.

You pushed his head off and dragged him by the arm, pulling hard as he resisted.

"Get the fuck off me! Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

The words came out harshly and you couldn't help but think he wasn't talking about the party when he said "ruin". Most people stopped to look at the fight brewing between you and Jae, and you felt the heat rise in your face. Tears threatened to fall when he shoved you away again and walked off, leaving you to stand in the crowd by yourself.

It was that night you made up your mind that he wouldn't be the partner you thought him to be and you had to move on without him. That's the night the messages were exchanged and you changed your number not long after, not waiting to hear whatever shitty excuse he came up with.

As you sat on the bench with him looking at the daughter that formed from you two, you wanted things to be different. You wanted to be able to lock your fingers with his and know that he was going back to a home you shared.

All of it was as true as a pig flying. As if being able to feel the shift in energy from you, Jaehyun looks over and watches how you watch Mia in a daze, eyes showing sadness he’s never witnessed. He wanted to pull you in for a hug, kiss your forehead and rub your back but he knew the reason behind that sadness was him.

He hated what he did to you and how he acted. Everything was just so sudden and truthfully it scared him. The idea of being a dad but the expectation of being a GOOD dad. He was fucking terrified and he made the wrong decision of trying to drink and party his fears away.

Before he could apologize you were already gone. Dropped out as if school no longer mattered, or most importantly, him. He loved you more than words could describe and he messed it all up, possibly never having the chance of getting it back. Not being able to handle the sorrow you tried to conceal, he suggested you all went for lunch since Mia had been playing continuously for the hour you had been here.

“Come on Mia, let’s go eat with…let’s go eat.” you stopped yourself from referring to him as “daddy” simply because you’re not sure how long this relationship would last and it would feel weird calling him that all of a sudden.

Mia runs over and grabs Jaehyun’s hand and looks up at him with a wide smile. He looks down and returns the smile and tightens his grip. He looked good as a dad and it was something you never doubted, just unfortunate circumstances that made you think otherwise.

“You guys can ride with me and I can just bring you back here to your car when we’re done. Is that okay?” He looks at you as he stands at his car, hand resting on the roof of the driver’s side.

Before you could speak, Mia shouted excitedly that she wanted to ride with him so there was no way you could say no especially since you weren’t ready to have him be alone with her.

He smiled and jogged over to the passenger side where you thought he’d be opening the door for Mia but opens your door instead. You turned around to thank him as you got in, but he was already buckling her in the backseat. It felt weird not being the one to drive around wherever you needed to go but it felt nice at the same time. Being a passenger princess eased your mind some and you felt like a chore had been crossed off your list.

“Everyone buckled in?” He hopped into the driver’s seat and looked in the rearview mirror at his daughter before looking at you and you give him a nod.

You kept your eyes on the road as best as you could but they would occasionally slide over and watch him drive. You rolled your eyes for constantly letting his looks distract you. You couldn’t help but notice how much more toned his body seemed under his clothing, and remembering how your nails would dig into his back while he roughly thrusted into you.

Ugh. You clenched your jaw and shooed the image in your head away, sitting in silence for the remainder of the ride. When he pulled into the parking lot, his arm instinctively reached behind your seat to boost him up high so he could see as he parked. You didn’t expect to blush so hard, but having him this close and smelling his cologne had you sidetracked.

“Daddy you’re a good driver, I’m going to drive like daddy when I get big!” Mia exclaims when Jaehyun opens her door and unbuckles her.

He chuckled and smiled as he picked her up, “Thank you baby, daddy will teach you okay?”

He carries her to the door of the restaurant and opens it for you. When you enter, you can feel his eyes watching you. After sitting down and ordering, there was a slight awkward silence besides the few times Mia would think of something she wanted to tell him. You and Jae ordered pasta and Mia wanted a sandwich.

"Daddy can you cut my sandwich please? It's too big." She pouted as she pushed her plate closer to Jaehyun's side of the table.

"Mia, honey you have to do some things yourself…”

He waved his hand dismissing whatever you just said. “No it’s okay, I’ll cut her sandwich for her especially because she asked very politely, good job Mia.” He patted her head and grabbed her plate.

Just watching their interactions showed you just how much Mia is falling in love with being around him and you can’t help but want to cry. You want this relationship between them to work, you don’t want her to feel the sadness you did. A part of you also wants you and Jaehyun to work but you brushed it off as a rekindling feeling because you haven’t been with anyone like this in a long time.

“How’s your food? I saw this place had good reviews so I’m hoping it lives up to the expectations.”

“Oh, it’s actually really good. I’ve never been here before so it felt nice to try somewhere new.”

“Oh really? How come you’ve never come here?” He leaned forward, chin resting in the palm of his hand, attentive and ready to listen.

You stared at him for a second. Gosh he’s so gorgeous, you see why you started dating him in the first place. But it was this moment now, the way all his attention was focused on you that made your heart flutter and you suddenly felt 19 again. He had always been so good with listening to whatever problems you had and never made you feel like you couldn’t talk to him. You missed that and with the lack of friends in the past few years, it felt good to have an adult to hang out with.

Being a single mother made you have to put in the extra work so you never stopped to make friends. It was your fault but it didn’t help knowing that you were only overworking yourself to keep your mind off of him. You wanted him to hug you, hold you tight and tell you everything was okay. That all the years you spent apart were worth it and necessary.

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I usually just don’t have time for myself.”

“You don’t hang out with your friends?”

You smiled awkwardly. “I…don’t have any friends. I’ve been working a lot since Mia was born, so I don’t really have time to make friends. And I also don’t have a babysitter nor would I trust a random person to watch her.”

Although he tried to hide it, there was a gloominess in his eyes as he listened to you. "I understand and I'm sorry you went through so much. I'm serious when I say I will always be here for the both of you no matter what. I lov-I care about you and Mia so much and would never do anything else to hurt you. I promise." He grabbed your hand that rested on the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You caught how he almost said he loved you. Did he really or was he just saying that to make you trust him? The feeling felt foreign after so many years and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

“I had fun today daddy!" Mia rushes over to hug him and he picks her up and squeezes her tight.

"Aww I'm so glad you did, daddy had fun too. I'll come see you and mommy again soon okay?" He put her down and watched her run back to you. He walked over to hug you also, hesitating a bit but went through with it when you didn't back away.

It was more like a side hug because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a hug nonetheless. You surprised yourself letting him get so close but even with the 2 seconds his arm wrapped around you, it felt so nice to be in his arms again. He was softening the walls you built up and it made you feel stupid for letting it happen so quickly.

"Thank you for taking care of her for so long, you're such a good mother. I'm going to keep my promise to the both of you, I'm very serious about this. You have my number, so don't hesitate to call me and ask for anything. I'm right here and from now on I will always be here."

You bit on the inside of your lip and focused your gaze toward the ground. You weren't sure if you wanted to slap him then hug him or just hug him. You waited this long to have someone by your side to make you feel like you weren't alone in all this but it still made you feel so uneasy, and truthfully it was stressful. You were going to trust him this time and see where it got you, already preparing yourself for the worst.

In the next few weeks, he kept in touch to either check on you and Mia or to ask if you needed anything from him. You were growing soft to him, falling in love with him all over. You felt like you were finally getting the attention you'd been missing all this time and it felt weird knowing it was coming from him.

Today, he was coming over to help with grocery shopping. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted on helping and carrying the groceries in the house so you wouldn't have to move a muscle.

"That's what I'm here for" he said when you told him you'd been doing it by yourself this whole time. "You don't have to worry about that type of thing anymore with me here."

Shopping went well until some jerk decided to hit you with his cart because you stood in front of something he wanted.

Jaehyun went over and shoved him on the shoulder. "What’s wrong with you man?! You couldn't just say excuse me?!"

The man went to shove Jaehyun back but he slapped the guy's hand away before it connected. "Maybe tell your stupid girlfriend to read the room and not stand in front of stuff, asshole."

"Hey man, watch your mouth around my daughter and don't talk about my girl like that.” He took a step closer to the man. “You better apologize before I fuck you up."

A blush painted your cheeks hearing the conversation between the two men. You looked over at Mia whose lip was pouting as she tried not to cry. You hurried to the front of the cart and hugged her against your chest to shush her. They argued continuously and you saw Jaehyun's hand ball into a fist. You went over and rubbed his arm to hopefully ease his anger.

"Jae it's not worth it, people like him don't deserve your time.”

His jaw clenched and his fist unclenched. He goes to turn around and the man says one last thing to tip Jaehyun over the top.

"Yeah man listen to your girlfriend, she's a keeper. If you don't fuck her, I will."

Jaehyun turns around and punches the man in the face, causing him to stumble back against the shelves. Both you and Mia scream and you stop Jaehyun from landing another punch. Security comes to further break up the fight and ask about what happened. Thankfully there were witnesses who vouched for Jaehyun and the guard let him off the hook while escorting the belligerent man out the store.

Jae went back to pushing Mia in the cart and thumbed away her drying tears. "I'm so sorry Mia, daddy didn't mean for you to see him that way. He doesn't like for anyone to say bad things about his girls." He looked up at you and offered an apologetic smile.

Back in the car, you noticed his knuckles slightly bruised as his hand rests on top of the gear shift. You looked up at him and could tell he was still slightly annoyed by the situation from earlier. You placed your hand on top of his and his expression softened.

"Thank you for earlier, for protecting us. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble over anything like that though."

"Y/N I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't handle him talking about you like that."

"Jae...I'm not even your girlfriend though."

"You're special to me and the mother of my child, so it doesn't really matter." he says as he backs into your driveway. He looks back at you, slightly leaning onto your armrest. "Don't ever think that someone will be able to talk crazy about you in front of me."

You quickly avoided his gaze and unbuckled your seat belt. "I have to get her inside so she can eat and get ready for bed, it's late."

He sighed to himself and pressed the button to open the trunk. "Okay I'll get the bags, just get Mia and open the door for me."

He helped you bring in all the bags and even put the groceries away. This was his first time being in your home and it truly felt odd.

"Daddy, are you going to stay and eat dinner with me and mommy?"

He stopped playing with her and looked up at you, who looked back at him.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure mommy is sleepy baby, maybe another time? You have to get to sleep soon after you eat."

She pouted her lips and looked at you. It wouldn't hurt to have him stay since he was so nice and helpful today.

"No, I'm actually fine and I would love to repay you for your kindness. Stay with us for dinner Jae."

He looked down at Mia and they both smiled. He kissed her forehead and got up to come into the kitchen with you. "Well at least let me help with dinner." He grabbed your waist and slid past you to get to the fridge. "Lemme know what you need and I'll cut, chop or whatever else for you."

For dinner, you made chicken parmesan and caesar salad. He did a lot of the prep work and set the table after. You caught yourself blushing a few times having him stand next to you and from the overall interactions.

"Come on Mia, let's eat!" you had to get her attention since she was fully focused on whatever storyline she made up for her dolls.

"It smells so good mommy, I'm so hungry!"

Jaehyun chuckled and you smiled at her compliments. "Well daddy helped too so you have to tell him that too."

Her mouth formed a small "oh" and her eyebrows stood in shock. "Daddy's a chef!"

You both laugh at her choice of words and get settled at the table, ready to eat. Dinner was a success, everyone had perfectly clean plates and bowls. Maybe it was because you were happy, but dinner just tasted so much better. Maybe you should have him over more often.

"Daddy...do you love mommy?" The sudden question from Mia made both you and Jaehyun quickly look up at her, you almost choking on the drink you were sipping.

"Why do you ask Mia?" Jaehyun is the first to speak up after the slightly long silence.

"Well...you always tell me you love me but you never say it to mommy and mommy never says it to you. But you should love each other because that's just how mommies and daddies are."

He chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. He cleared his throat when he felt your eyes on him, waiting to see what he would tell her.

"Yes...I do love mommy. I will always love her so don't you worry okay? Come on, let's go get ready for bed. I want to say goodnight to you before I go."

He got up from the table and took her in the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. You wanted to pull your hair out. Knowing he still had feelings for you made this so much harder. You loved him too, you know you did and you never doubted it. It was just still so hard to accept that he wouldn't do anything to mess up whatever you had now.

After cleaning the dinner dishes, you went and sat on the couch and opened a bottle of wine you had stored for a few months. You set down your glass and pulled out the cork. You weren't much of a drinker, but tonight you were in need.

You turned around when you heard the door to Mia's room close and saw Jaehyun tiptoeing away from it. He put his finger to his lips to tell you to stay quiet.

"She's asleep, she was so tired." He came around and sat on the couch with you, eyeing the bottle of wine on the coffee table. "Mind if I stay for a drink?"

You shook your head and pointed to the cabinet containing the glasses and he grabbed one before reclaiming his spot on the couch. You both sat in silence having finished your quarter full glasses a while ago. You looked in the direction of Mia's room and looked back at Jaehyun, both of your elbows resting on the back of the couch.

"You mean a lot to her Jae, I can see how much she loves spending time with you."

"What about you?"

The question threw you off guard but you should have expected it after he confessed his feelings at the dinner table. "What about me?"

"Do I mean a lot to you? I know I messed up a lot in the past, but I'm really trying Y/N."

Your eyes met his again and if there was one word that would describe the way he looked at you, it would be genuine. You knew he was telling the truth and you knew he expected an answer.

"I-I...I don't know Jae, honestly this whole thing has been terrifying and I can't help but want to keep my guard up. I've been so alone these past few years that accepting you back into my life scares me so much. I just don't want to be alone again..."

He grabbed your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead. "I know, I know and I'm sorry. My babygirl didn't deserve that and I really want to make it up to you. Just trust me and let me take care of you and Mia, let me be in your life again. Please."

You felt stuck, stuck in between wanting to hate him and wanting to let him love you, leaning more toward the latter. Perhaps it was the tiny bit of wine in your system, definitely not enough to get you drunk, but enough to give you confidence.

You leaned forward and kissed him, heart beating fast enough to power a machine. When you leaned back, he looked at you with an unreadable expression. The alcohol immediately left your bloodstream and your face burned with embarrassment.

"Jae I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

He pulls you back into the kiss, hand dragging you in by the waist. He put his all into it and you were starting to feel dizzy. The last time you kissed him was before you had Mia, so to say the kiss had your body heating with lust was an understatement.

He tugged at you and pulled you into his lap, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. His hands were everywhere, never stopping in one place for too long. He slid his hands under your shirt, playing with your boobs for a quick second before tossing the shirt over your head. He broke the kiss and looked at your chest like a kid in a candy store. You wanted to cover them with your hands, but he slipped a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra before you could.

Your breasts fell free and he wasted no time in letting his lips wrap around your nipple. His hand came up to massage the other one and your hands came up to tangle in his hair. After not being with him for so long, you forgot just how much you missed the sex with him. He was always a giver and always made sure you came even if he didn't. Eventually his hands traveled down your back and landed on your hips. He rolled his hips up into you and you both moaned into the kiss.

You reached down between your bodies and palmed him through the pants he wore. He ground up into your hand and you felt just how hard he was. As you began to fiddle with the waistband, he shifted and eased you down onto the couch as he moved between your legs.

"Jae-"

"Shh shh baby, let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you how much I missed you."

He kissed his way down your stomach, placing a kiss on each side of your hip bones. He slipped off your skirt and panties in one go, a string of your arousal sticking to your underwear.

"Fuck, you're so wet..." He bit his lip and dragged a finger through your folds, playing with the slippery mess between them.

He bent down to connect his lips to your pussy. He made a few circles around your clit with his tongue, earning moans from you, before slipping a finger in. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntarily. He moved them faster and faster, holding your thigh down with the hand not in use. You can tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were with his heavy breathing and the way he slightly humped the couch beneath him.

He then used the hand holding down your thigh to rub circles on your clit as his tongue joined his fingers.

“Jae, I’m so close!”

Your legs tried closing but he used his elbows to stop them.

“Cum for me baby, let it out.” The vibrations of his voice sent shockwaves through your nerves.

The simultaneous stimulation sent you over the edge and your toes curled almost cramping your foot. He brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact.

He moved up your body to trap you in another kiss, this time your hand finding a way to his nether regions. You dipped your hands into his pants and into his underwear to stroke his length. He stopped focusing on the kiss for a few seconds and rutted into your hand.

“Jae, please fuck me while my mind is clear.”

He quickly removed everything from the waist down and now you both lay naked on the couch. He tapped his dick on your clit and rubbed it through your folds a few times to get it wet. He eased into you and cursed under his breath. It’s been so long that you forgot just how big he was, stretching you to new lengths but it felt so good.

“Fuck, you’re so big.”

“Did you forget already?” he laughed with his brows furrowed as he concentrated on not cumming too quickly. “Fuck you’re so fucking wet.”

You grabbed onto his biceps as he got balls deep, feeling so stretched and full. You moaned when he started thrusting into you slowly, bucking your hips to match his speed. He grabbed onto your waist and sped up his pace, skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck Daddy that feels so good~” you tried to stop your eyes from rolling back from the pleasure.

“Shit, if you call me that again I might get too rough.”

You looked up at him through hooded lids, his lip caught between teeth as he tried to keep it together. But you didn’t want that, you wanted him to fuck you into an empty headspace. You wanted to forget everything he’s ever done wrong and trust him as he is now.

“Fuck me harder Daddy, don’t hold back.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and you could see the switch in his eyes.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over with ease. Now you laid in a “face down ass up” position ready to take whatever he gave you. He rubbed his hands up and down your body, grinding his dick against your folds.

“Gosh I missed this pussy so much…” He lined himself up and slammed back in making you gasp.

This angle and the speed he chose truly did make you feel like he was fucking your thoughts away. By this time you were basically screaming, not able to make full sentences. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you up as he bent down and whispered in your ear.

“Not too loud, you don’t want Mia to wake up and hear how much of a slut you are.” He tugged on your hair harder and thrust into you harder, your moans getting louder. He landed a slap on your ass and covered your mouth with the other.

“Fuck Jae! I’m gonna cum!” You tried moving your body forward to give yourself some time to breathe, your heart pumping like you were on a treadmill.

The hand over your mouth slid down and wrapped around your throat and he was back at your ear.

“Stop running and take this dick. Let Daddy fuck the stress out of you.” He reached down with his other hand and rubbed harsh circles on your clit. He felt your walls squeeze around his girth and he knew you were close and he wasn’t too far himself. “Cum for me baby, I know you want to.”

“Oh god Jae! It feels so fucking good~”

Your toes were curling, your walls were clenching and your vision was dimming. Your orgasm was approaching quickly and you knew it would be mind blowing. His thrusts were getting sloppier so you knew the way your pussy sucked him in had his head spinning.

“Fuck, where you want my cum baby?”

“Inside Jae, please!” You knew you hadn’t been on birth control in a while but something in you made you feel safe enough to choose the most dangerous answer.

He loved fucking you raw, but getting to also cum inside did something to him. Telling him that seemed to power his thrusts, they were now like he wanted to split you in half.

“Missed Daddy so much you want him to fuck another baby in you?” His hips were starting to stutter, you felt way too good around him. “Fuck, please cum with me, cum all over me baby. God you feel so good around my dick.”

His hand moved from your clit to go up and squeeze your nipple while he bit down on you shoulder. The mixed pain and pleasure pushed you to your orgasm and you squeezing around him pushed him to his, both screaming out each other’s name. He pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you, the sight alone could make him hard again.

Him inching out of you was just as euphoric but your body had no strength to keep itself up for another round. You laid there evening out your breaths with a smile spread across your face. You heard him shuffling around behind you and eventually he came back with a warm towel to clean you up.

He placed gentle kisses down your spine and rubbed where he left a handprint on your ass. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were rough, but you know that’s how I like it.” You chuckled and built up enough strength to sit up and look at him. He looked amazing all fucked out and sweaty, you wanted to pounce on him again. “Thank you for helping to ease my mind.”

“I want to do that for you more often, I wanna be your man again Y/N. I’m sorry for everything I said and did to you to make you feel like I didn’t love you anymore. I love you so much and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”

You quickly wiped the tears that threatened to fall and looked away from him. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your head and back. You wrapped your arms around him and fully embraced the hug. There was no holding back now, you accepted him and was ready to give him another chance.

“Don’t go, stay with me tonight.”

“Of course baby, I’m never leaving you again.”

Over the next few months, Jaehyun frequented your home, whether it was to run errands with you, drop Mia off from school or just to spend time with the both of you. There were days you also spent nights at his place. The sex was also constant. No matter where or when, he would have you bent over or pinned up against something as he slammed into you.

You loved every second of it, having him by your side on the daily again. He often brought you and Mia around his job to meet his coworkers whenever they had events, even making friends with one of the other families who had kids around Mia’s age. He showed you off like an art piece, one that only he possessed. You were his to keep and everyone else barely had the privilege to look.

“Hey baby mama, so the office is having a party to celebrate the collab of our international partnership and I want you to come with me.” He stood behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist, peppering kisses on your neck as you stood making your cup of tea.

“Haha ew Jae do not call me that. Of course I’ll go baby, when is it?” You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

He sighed happily. “I will never get tired of your kisses babygirl. It’s next week and it starts at 8 and I know you’re worried about a babysitter for Mia, but Tracy said she could watch her because she didn’t want to go.”

It didn’t hurt to let her watch Mia, this would be the first time you and Jae did something together without her. You thought about it for a few seconds more then nodded your head. He smiled brightly and kissed you again.

The venue was classy and you understood why Jaehyun told you to get so dressed up. You didn’t have anything to wear so he took you shopping the day before to get everything you needed. With him by your side, you felt like a billionaire. You wore a long black draped collar dress that was made with a sparkly fabric, a slit going up your right leg.

Jae loved it on you, bending you over in it when he came to see it on you in the dressing room. Speaking of him, he wore a plain black suit with a matching tie and white button down. He looked good and with the way his hand kept rubbing your ass, you knew he’d take you somewhere later to fuck you.

Everyone commented on how great you two looked as a couple as you walked to your table. The event wasn’t very long so there were only standing tables with drinks and small hors d’oeuvres. His boss stood in the middle of the large open space and tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“First and foremost I’d like to thank everyone for coming. Today we celebrate the long awaited partnership with Korea in order to expand our company. It is thanks to all of you that we were able to achieve such a wonderful thing and hopefully we continue to grow.” He turns to look in the direction of you and Jaehyun. “We have also gathered here today for something else special, so if you would all please turn your attention this way.”

You were confused and when you went to turn and ask Jaehyun what was going on, you looked down and saw him on one knee. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with your hands. You blinked back as many tears as you could while he spoke.

“Babygirl, I know we’ve gone through some rough times, you more than me, but I’m going to continue to keep my promise to you and Mia for as long as I live. You are my sunshine, my rock, my everything and I love you so much. You are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, not as your boyfriend but as your husband. Y/N will you marry me?”

There was no fighting off the tears this time and you nodded your head as you continued to say yes. The whole room filled with cheers as he placed the ring on your finger and stood up to pull you into a kiss. You hugged him tight and his hand rested on the small of your back.

“Yay mommy and daddy are going to get married!”

Shocked, you turn around and see Mia all dressed up. You look up and see Tracy waving at you from the other side and you wave back. Jaehyun picks Mia up and holds her between the both of you.

“See, daddy told you he would love mommy forever.”

[celiastjamesoscar]

Umbrella Paradox

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: When visiting a local cafe shop late one night, you meet the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, but you get off on the wrong foot.

Warnings: murder accusations, mention of drug use, light swearing, slight dark humor (my first time writing something ever)

Word count: 5.5k

Read pt 2 here

The streets of New York City were desolate at this hour: few and far patrons wandered into the small coffee shop. A faint chill was in the air, but not enough to make one wear a jacket. The type of chill someone can breathe in and feel in their bones. The kind of chill that anyone from the Midwest would recognize, the tell-tale signs that a storm was coming. From the way the trees rustled to the smell of the air and even to how the local dogs, who were ordinarily quiet, began to bark and growl, all signs pointed towards that of a storm.

Even though it's known as “The City That Never Sleeps,” the city seemed peaceful to the woman who worked the shop. Today had been one of the busiest days; the order for cappuccinos never ended, and Sam was ready for it to end. For the past hour and a half, however, the coffee shop had been a ghost town, the only souls that haunted the shop were Sam and one of her coworkers who just sat in the back, waiting for their shift to end. Within the four walls of solitude, a quietness quickly disappeared as Sam heard the loud cracks of thunder. As if Mother Nature had flipped a switch, a downpour of rain seemed to swallow the small shop.

As dusk hours dragged on, the little hand on the clock crawled towards 1, and the bell above the door dinged. The words “What can I get for you?” were already leaving her lips before she looked up, but she felt like the world had shifted when she saw the woman before her.

The woman in front of Sam was close to her height; maybe even taller-it was hard for Sam to tell-and she had a scar on her left eye. It went an inch or two above her eyebrow and was three inches below her eye. She wore a black uniform resembling an EMT: buttoned-up collared shirt with two chest pockets, military creases, and tactical pants. As she approached the counter, Sam took in the top of her uniform: she had a small badge on her left collarbone that said ‘emergency medical technician’ with the symbol of Caduceus on it. On her right, read the name ‘Y/N.’ Across her shoulder, she carried a red bag that had a white Caduceus symbol stitched on it. She also had a walkie-talkie hooked onto her belt and held an umbrella.

“Espresso and potato soup.” The woman said as she stood before Sam. She had a dry tone, almost as if she was irritated that Sam had asked her what she wanted.

“Hot or cold?” Sam gently asked as she studied the woman: she had bags under her eyes and wore a stressed expression.

“What?” The woman responded with the same dry tone.

“Your drink. Do you want it hot or cold?” Sam repeated herself, losing the gentle tone and speaking with a slightly irritated one instead.

The woman asked irritatedly, “Why would I want a cold coffee? That defeats the purpose.” Sam had to fight herself not to roll her eyes at the comment and instead added up the total.

“Okay, that will be $8.75,” Sam said as she watched Y/N dig around her pockets for her wallet. Eventually, the woman pulled out her money along with three quarters and paid Sam before walking off to sit in the corner of the shop, taking off her bag and placing her umbrella on the floor. Sam placed the order for the woman and went to count the money but soon found out she was two dollars short.

“Miss, you are short two dollars,” Sam spoke with gentleness in her voice even though she could not understand why but quickly regarded it once the woman mumbled something under her breath and threw the two dollars onto the counter. Sam scoffed at the woman’s actions but began making her coffee.

As Sam finished making the coffee, her coworker brought up the soup and placed it by Sam, sparing a glance at the woman in the corner, “Just think, a little over an hour to go,” they said with a smile as they disappeared quickly into the kitchen. "It’s going to be the longest hour of my life,” Sam thought as she grabbed the soup and coffee and walked toward the woman.

“Here’s your soup and coffee. Enjoy,” Sam said as she placed the items in front of the woman, who said nothing in return. Minutes seemed like hours as the woman ate her soup and drank her coffee, and Sam was bored. The only thing on her mind was the downpour outside and the woman in the corner, though she would never admit that to herself. Y/N had been the only customer in the past–Sam quickly glanced at the clock–two hours. Out of boredom, Sam began wiping down tables, preparing for closing even though the shop closed in thirty minutes.

As if snapping out of a daydream, the woman quickly noted Sam’s action and finished her meal and drink. She got up, placed the bowl on the counter, and discarded her coffee cup. She set three dollars on the counter, spared Sam a smile–if one could call it–grabbed her umbrella, and quickly left the shop. As Y/N left the shop, a small group of teenage girls walked in, all a bit drunk, but Y/N wouldn’t tell on them.

She began walking down the street, holding the umbrella close to her as the rain continued its assault on the city. “It hasn’t rained in a month, and of course, it decides to piss it down the night I work 12 hours.” Y/N mumbler under her breath, walking a quarter of a mile back to the station. As she approached the station, she noticed something was missing. “Fuck me; I left my bag.” She grumbled as she began her saunter back to the coffee shop.

Just as she began her walk, she started thinking about the woman in the cafe. Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t find the woman attractive. She had tan skin that was undoubtedly smooth and beautiful brown eyes that one could get lost in if they weren’t careful, but she also had a guarded nature. She felt terrible for how she treated the woman; Y/N had had a rough day at work, the calls for emergencies never seemed to end, and she let it affect her mood. She was usually delightful, but the long shift had gotten to her, and she seemed to have taken it out on the poor woman. The alluring woman plagued Y/N’s mind; she subconsciously quickened her pace, hoping to make it back in time before closing to apologize to the woman.

After Y/N had left the shop, Sam stopped cleaning the tables and walked over to the counter. She smiled at the tip and happily collected it as the doorbell rang again. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” Sam said as she made eye contact with one of the girls in the group before grabbing the bowl and taking it into the kitchen. As she left, however, she heard the faintest of a whisper, but it was there, “murderer.”

Sam has not been a stranger to the accusations from strangers since the Woodsboro murders. It seems once a week; the shop gets a patron who throws around the word “murderer” while Sam is working. At first, it bothered Sam, she would cry on her breaks and smoke more cigarettes than usual, but after a while, she became immune to it all. She acted like nothing bothered her when she was with Tara, as she didn’t want her baby sister to worry about her. But that’s all Tara did.

Tara noticed the subtle details: Sam would have puffy eyes and smudged mascara, things that would go unnoticed by the average eye but not to Tara. Then more significant things began to happen; Sam’s mood would change on a dime, she started to smell like cigarettes more often, and she had bags under her eyes. Of course, Tara rebelled against her sister, just like any typical freshman in college would do against their parents. Tara only acted out as a way to push Sam away from her. Tara’s entire life, people have left her: her dad, her sister, and her mom, who has been absent most of her life. She wanted to prove she was the problem: Tara was why everyone she loved left her. In her mind, Tara believed she didn’t deserve love and was too much to deal with, so she pushed Sam away.

But once Sam started coming home with her work clothes covered in coffee or cherry coke, Tara began to behave herself. She would order pizza before Sam’s shift would end and have a movie ready to play when she got home. Sometimes, if she felt adventurous and brave enough, she would cook a meal for the two of them. Once, she tried cooking one of Sam’s favorite meals but almost burnt down the apartment. Neither talked about it; instead just laughed over their Chinese takeout about the disaster. Tara never asked Sam about her job, as she figured it would only add to her sister’s guilt: having her little sister worry about her when she was already struggling enough to get over the trauma of Woodsboro. Instead, Tara simply showed her care for Sam through little acts they preferred. Asking each other if they were okay without words was how close they were. Sam might have gone for five years, but their bond will always be everlasting: no amount of time will ever shake their love for each other.

Sam prepared to face the inevitable and walked towards the counter, “what can I get you girls?” she asked with a polite tone and forced smile.

The girls gave Sam an unimpressed look as they pretended to look at the menu. “Let’s see here, ummmm…can I please get a latte? No, actually, how about an americano? Wait! No, I would like a mocha, please!” One of the girls stated as she twirled her hand around her finger, pretending to play dumb just to irritate Sam. Sam knew that this was going to end badly for herself, but the best she could do was force a smile, not like she’s been doing that her whole life.

After getting all their orders—which took a millennium—Sam eventually got to make their coffees. With complaints and loud sighs, the girls sat down at one of the tables Sam had just finished clearing, as the cleaning supplies were still on it. In one single motion, the girl who played dumb backhanded all the supplies off the table, crying out an “oops” as she sat down while the other girls laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up in a minute,” Sam uttered with a clenched jaw. As Sam finished talking, the doorbell chimed, but she didn’t have it in her to turn around, afraid that the girls were stalking her movements and they would see the frustration on her face, knowing they were getting to her.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on worrying about it. I know that you know how to clean up a stain or two,” the Karen Smith wanna-be stated with an all-too-knowing smirk while twirling her hair. “How’d you do it anyway? Get away with all those murders?” She asked as she outstretched her arms when she said ‘All those murders.’

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sam voiced through gritted teeth-she didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now.

“Oh, okay then!” The girl exclaimed with a jeering expression as she bounced around in her seat before speaking more seriously, “I just thought you were that Loomis girl who murdered six of her friends and tried to kill her sister.”

Sam spoke in a tired but hardened tone, “Look, girl, I have no idea what you are trying to get at, but-” “Excuse me, may I get a pot of coffee, please?” A gentle voice interrupted Sam. She had half a mind to give the person a piece of her mind for interrupting her, but when she turned around, and the words died on her tongue. It was the woman from earlier, but this time she wore a radiant expression, and a cheeky smile rested upon her face. She rested her elbows on the countertop, leaning forward a bit.

“Yeah, just a minute,” responded Sam as she brought the coffees over to the girls. When she handed Karen wannabe her coffee, her hand “accidentally” bumped Sam’s, causing the piping hot liquid to land all over Sam, ruining her top. “Omg, I am sorry!” Even though she did not attempt to help, the girl exclaimed, “Please don’t murder Ms. Ghostface; it was seriously an accident!” At this, the girls laughed, and Sam even heard a snicker come from behind her. And sure enough, Y/N had a mischief smirk even though her eyes were choleric.

“I’m getting your cup of coffee now,” Sam sighed as she took off her apron and threw it on the counter.

“A pot of coffee, not a cup,” the woman stated as Sam gave her a puzzled look, “preferably your hottest pot as well.” Sam rolled her eyes at the statement but went and got the fresh pot of coffee her coworker had made for themselves.

Sam returned and handed the woman the pot; she didn’t bother questioning what she needed an entire pot for; as long as Sam was left alone, she didn’t care.

“Thank you-” Y/N glanced at the nametag on the coffee-stained apron, “-Sam.” She gently smiled as she spoke before swiftly approaching the group of girls.

Watching in amusement and pure curiosity, Sam stared with bewilderment as the woman threw the coffee onto the group of girls, their shrieks and screams echoing throughout the cafe. “Omg, I didn’t mean to do that!” Y/N expressed with a cheerful laugh as one of the girls started crying because her ‘perfect hair was ruined!’

“I’m going to sue your ass!” Karen wannabe shouted, standing up to wipe the coffee off her clothing.

“On what grounds? You are trespassing on private property!” Y/N laughed as she pointed towards the clock; it was fifteen past two. “Now leave before I call the cops and say that you’re refusing to leave,” with that, the girls quickly left the shop, but not without Karen wannabe scoffing at Y/N and flipping Sam off.

Y/N had placed the coffee pot on the counter and was preparing to ask Sam a question before Sam interrupted her by laughing. It wasn’t a tiny laugh; no, it was the type of laughter that has one doubled over holding their stomach type. Caught off guard by Sam’s laughter, Y/N quickly joined in.

Consequently, the coworker came up to see what the laughter was about but quickly disregarded it, said goodbye, and left. Drying the tears from her eyes as her laughter died, Sam looked around before speaking, “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was no problem, and besides, I kinda had fun doing it. Is that bad?” Y/N questioned with a worrisome look as she made eye contact with Sam.

“No, it’s not. They deserved it.” Sam joked as she looked around the shop. “I need to close up, but seriously, thank you.”

Y/N nodded as Sam walked off to the supply closet. When she returned, she found that Y/N had already begun cleaning up the mess she had made and the spilled cleaning supplies the girls had knocked over. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not holding you hostage here,” Sam joked as she walked over to the table Y/N was cleaning.

“I know, I just feel bad about this,” Y/N voiced with a sigh and waved her arm around the messy table. “I should have handled it better.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sam explained, “those girls were assholes, and they deserved a lot worse,” she finished with a laugh.

Y/N smiled at Sam, “I know. I’m Y/N, by the way,” she said as she extended her hand. Sam smiles as her eyes crinkle and accepts her hand.

“I’m Sam, but you already know that,” she replies as she slides her hand into hers. The sparks that Y/N feels when their palms connect causes her to flinch and take a deep breath momentarily. Y/N notices how Sam’s eyes snap up at hers, telling Y/N that maybe she felt it too. If Sam saw how Y/N’s eyes smiled for her and her palms began to sweat, she didn’t say it. And if Y/N noticed how Sam’s spine got the faintest chill causing her to stand up straighter, Sam was glad she didn’t say anything.

Sam pulled her hand back out of shock, her eyes darting around the room, looking everywhere but Y/N’s radiant smile. “Well then,” Sam coughed out, “we should finish up closing.” Y/N nodded in agreement, tapping her foot as she cleaned off the tables.

Occasionally, her eyes drift over to Sam, who was also cleaning tables on the other side of the cafe. It felt as though Sam was trying to put distance between herself and the EMT. It felt like she was suffocating just being near the woman; it drove her mad with anger and happiness simultaneously.

Fifteen minutes had passed before they finally finished cleaning up and preparing to lock the front doors when they realized it was still raining. “It is pissing it down out there,” Y/N stated, looking out the window. She had her umbrella in hand and her long-forgotten medical bag over her shoulder, getting ready to leave the shop before she turned to Sam, “Would you like me to walk you home?” She asked with the gentlest tone Sam had ever heard, and it almost brought a tear to her eyes. A stranger she had just met was willingly being friendly to her after hearing accusations of her being a “murderer.” She had half a mind to run in the other direction; ordinary people were never this nice to her.

“I would like that, if you don’t mind,” Sam uttered, afraid her voice would break if she spoke any louder. She was used to the cruel ways of the world now-she expected the worst but never prayed for the best. Even after all the harsh years she has dealt with, this moment with Y/N seemed to compensate for her torture.

“Let us begin our adventure then.” Y/N proclaimed as she stepped outside the door and opened her umbrella. She held the umbrella over both of them as Sam locked up the front door and pulled Sam into her side, “I don’t want you to get soaked,” Y/N expressed with a cheeky grin and loving eyes. If Sam noticed the red tint on the other woman’s face, she kept it to herself.

Sam informed her that it’s about a half-mile walk. It would take Y/N almost a mile out of her way, but she just nodded and said that’s fine. She didn’t care how long she had to walk, as she couldn’t muster a complaint with Sam by her side.

They walked the first block in complete silence; the only sound they could hear was the rain pelting down on the umbrella before Y/N spoke up, “Why were those girls accusing you of murder?” She felt Sam automatically tense up and suck in a deep breath, and it sent a dagger into her own heart.

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam sighed, looking down at the ground as she spoke, “Not right now, at least.”

“Okay,” Y/N said with a loving tone; it made Sam want to strangle her. Sam hated how one word made heat creep up her neck and warm her body despite the cold weather. She hated the way one stranger made her feel more loved and appreciated than anyone in her entire life ever had. And above all else, she hated how Y/N smiled at her like she was the only person in the world. Like her life meant something other than being the daughter of a serial killer.

“Why’d you do that?” Sam asked after a few beats of silence.

“Mhm? Do what?” Y/N questioned as she looked at Sam.

“Throw the coffee on those girls.”

“Oh, I did it for the shiggles,” Y/N admitted with a shrug of her shoulders and a cheeky smile.

“‘Shiggles? What does that mean?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh as the question left her lips.

“Shits and giggles, my dear Watson,” Y/N said with the same cheeky grin plastered on her face, and it took everything in Sam to look away for fear of doing something she might come to regret.

“So, were you an asshole to me earlier for the shiggles? Or was that all an act?” Sam asked as she bumped her shoulders into Y/N, slightly causing the woman to fall out from under the umbrella shelter.

“Hey! Watch it, lady! This is a vintage Prada shirt that the devil himself wore when he fought Meryl Streep!” Y/N exclaimed as she wiped the rain off of the left side of her face when she returned under the umbrella. She then wiped her hand off Sam’s clothes, earning herself a small elbow to the side.

Sam laughed at the woman’s words and actions, “have you ever seen that movie?” Sam questioned.

“No, I have not,” Y/N stated with a very serious expression but a playful manner in her eyes. Sam could not believe that this was the same woman she met earlier. “Is it bad that I think she’s kinda hot?”

“Who? Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep, or Emily Blunt?”

“Ummm, yes?” Y/N said with her eyebrow raised like she could not believe Sam had asked her that question.

Sam’s head fell back with laughter at Y/N’s response, and Y/N swore it sounded like angels were singing. “I hate you.” Sam joked with the kindest tone Y/N had ever heard.

“Nothing about my response is funny, Sam!” Y/N exclaimed with a smile followed by frantic hand movements, “Yes to all three women, no matter the context, it's just yes!”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“Mhmm, you better not be,” Y/N replied as she nudged her shoulder against Sam’s, but not hard enough to knock Sam out from under the umbrella.

“But seriously though, why were you being an asshole earlier?” Sam questioned, hoping to get an actual response out of the woman this time.

“I had a bad day at work. Too many kids shooting fireworks at each other leaving them with not enough fingers,” Y/N said as she brought her hand close to Sam’s face and began wiggling them in front of her. Sam laughed and gently pushed the EMT’s hand down, letting her hand linger for a few seconds too long before she dropped it back down by her side.

“People are still shooting off fireworks? July 4th was a couple of weeks ago,” Sam stated, shaking her head as she hoped it would get rid of warm cheeks.

“Dude, crackheads are crazy. They will blow each other’s fingers off with fireworks until mid-November.” Y/N laughed, “The first call I got today was some dude who was high on PCP, for your information, who had tried to use a firework to launch himself onto the moon!”

Sam couldn’t help but join Y/N’s laughter; she found it somewhat morbid that the woman handled such a scene with mild humor. “How do you find this stuff funny?” Sam questioned with a look of amusement.

“Perks of the job; cool uniforms followed suit by dark humor,” Y/N stated as she sent a wink Sam’s way along with some playful finger guns. If Sam noticed Y/N’s eyes peaking at her lips, she didn’t mention it. “I do want to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. I was being an asshole. Is there any way I could make it up to you?”

“Yeah, you kinda were, but you’ve made up for it,” Sam said with a lighthearted smile.

Y/N just smiled at Sam in return but quickly felt her heart flutter at Sam’s smile. She had seen Sam smile their entire walk, but for the first time, Y/N had seen her smile.

It wasn’t like the forced smile she saw when she had first met the woman; no, it was a different smile. Y/N wouldn’t even classify it as a smile if the laws of nature would allow her to; she’d call it something completely different. Something that has no negative aspect, something that has no flaws, something that the evils of man can never touch. The only words that came to mind were ‘unblemished’ and ‘pure,’ but she felt shame and embarrassment as she tried to put a word to Sam’s smile. There are no words in the English language that Y/N could scream to match that smile.

Y/N was going to say something, but all the words slipped her mind. It was as if someone had flashed her with a neuralyzer, and she only remembered the captivating woman in front of her. With what little words she could muster, she simply uttered, “I’m sorry,” followed by an awkward laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck before looking down at the rain-soaked sidewalk.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, Sam tried to look at Y/N’s face, but the woman refused to meet her challenging gaze. So, Sam did what any sane person would do. She slowly brushed her fingers against Y/N’s, praying to all the gods in the world, hoping one would answer her prayer. And to her luck, a God did.

Y/N slowly bumped her hand against Sam’s and gently locked her pinky finger with Sam’s. She waited for Sam to pull back, but Y/N let go of Sam’s finger after a few seconds.

At first, Sam’s heart sank into her stomach; she was getting ready to usher out a plethora of apologies before she felt Y/N’s palm against her own. It felt as if the entire world stopped for both women, but at the same time, everything was moving faster: their breathing, their eyes, their walking pace, and their heart rates. At the same time, as if their minds were on the same wave link and they shared a telepathic ability, they both looked at each other, subtly shifting their bodies to be closer while continuing their walk.

Y/N’s eyes never left Sam’s. All she could do was stare into the woman’s eyes. The kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they even bothered to steal pieces of art. The type of eyes that Y/N longed to call home.

On the other hand, Sam did everything she could to avoid Y/N’s piercing gaze. She studied how the scar on her eye moved with her facial expressions, noted how the earlier stress lines were gone, and wondered if her lips tasted as good as they looked. She wondered if they were as soft as they looked, if she could get lost in her kisses and forget about everything else. She wondered if they would fit perfectly with her own.

Subconsciously, both women stopped walking and slowly began leaning in. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath on their lips. And if God had decided he hadn't made Sam’s life hard enough, a car flew down the road, driving through a puddle of water, causing it to soak both women. Out of instinct, Y/N dropped the umbrella to her side, causing Sam to send her a murderous glance. Sam cursed under her breath as she stared down the quickly disappearing car while Y/N tried to slow down her heartbeats. Y/N was quick to make a joke out of the situation, hoping it wasn’t too awkward between them, “well, at least your clothes were already ruined.” She said as she quickly closed the umbrella and shook herself off like a dog.

“Umm, what the hell are you doing?” Sam questioned as she gestured towards the closed umbrella.

“What? Our clothes are already soaked; we no longer need to use this thing.” Y/N stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sam huffed at Y/N’s words, mentally slapping herself for agreeing with the woman, then she reached out and linked her arm with Y/N’s. Y/N gave Sam that same gentle smile from earlier and gestured to the sidewalk with her free hand, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Sam laughed, bumping her shoulders against Y/N’s. Neither woman complained about the downpour of rain they were walking through, but when the loud cracks of thunder started again, they dislinked their arms and instead linked their hands together, quickly running through the rain. Between the occasional thunder, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of laughter and playful banter between the two.

Out of breath but full of life, they quickly reached the apartment complex doors and ran inside. Neither said anything at first, but when they looked at each other, they burst out laughing. “You look like a drowned rat.” Sam joked between laughs.

“Thank you, that is exactly what I was going for this morning,” Y/N said as she lightly pushed Sam. However, when Y/N’s hands touched Sam’s torso, she gently grasped Y/N’s hands and slowly placed them on her waist, moving into Y/N’s personal space. The atmosphere around them quickly changed into one full of desire and longing.

Y/N looked down at Sam’s eye, then her other one, and down at her lips before looking back up at Sam. The only thing she saw in Sam’s eyes was the same burning passion she felt, and she needed to feel something, anything from Sam. Leaning down, Y/N let her lips linger on Sam’s but never kissed her; it was her version of asking if this was okay. Y/N’s grip on Sam’s waist tightened as Sam removed her hands from hers and slowly brought them up to cup Y/N’s face. With a gentle stroke of her thumb against her cheek, Sam finally closed the distance.

The kiss is soft and gentle, unlike anything Sam has ever experienced in her entire life. She softly sighed into the EMT’s lips, releasing tension she didn’t know she had. She felt her whole body react to the kiss as if her soul told her that this was her last first kiss.

Y/N delicately kissed Sam back, worried that if she tried too hard or moved quickly, everything around her would disappear, including Sam. Y/N is so lost in Sam that she can’t even hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat against her rib cage and ringing throughout her eardrums. The only thing on her mind was the soft stroke of Sam’s thumb against her cheek and the tender lips against her own. Slowly and reluctantly, the two separated but rested their foreheads together.

Out of breath, Y/N whispered against Sam’s lips, “When can I see you again?”

Sam let out a laugh before slightly pulling back, just far enough where she could look Y/N in the eyes and still be in her arms. “You know where I work. Figure it out.” She said as she leaned up to kiss Y/N’s cheek while gently stroking her other cheek before slowly making her way up the stairs to her apartment.

Y/N was so lost in thought that her mind only began to register what had happened when she lost the warmth of Sam. She watched as Sam slowly walked up the first few steps before calling out, “You are really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

Sam smiled as she leaned against the railing, looking down at Y/N, “If I remember correctly, you asked me how you could compensate me for being an asshole.”

Y/N scoffed at Sam’s words but spoke with a smile on her face, “I thought you said I had already made it up to you?”

“Well, I lied. See you at the coffee shop sometime!” Sam called out with a wave of her hand as she quickly walked up the stairs. She didn’t want Y/N to see the giant smile on her place that accompanied a faint blush on her tan skin.

Y/N couldn’t help the grin that overtook her face at Sam’s words. ‘At least she wants to see me again!’ She thought as she practically skipped out of the apartment complex, leaving her umbrella behind.

This is my first time writing anything, so I apologize if this was bad. If anyone has any requests, let me know!

[messers-moony]

Lukewarm Coffee | T.D

Pairing: Tim Drake X Fem!Reader

Summary: All Tim wants is a breath of fresh air, and after seventeen years, he gets one.

Word Count: 1.0K

He felt like a lukewarm cup of coffee. 

It wasn’t quite hot enough to be enjoyable, but it wasn’t cold enough either. His planner sat open on the table in front of him. Notes were scattered throughout the little box on the left. Things were written over other scribbles, and each day had a plethora of words within the small boxes. They really need to make these little things bigger for people with a lot of shit to do. 

Tim sighed. His pen in his hand had somehow been taken apart. He figured he must have done it without paying attention. There was black ink all over the wooden table, and he grabbed a napkin to hide the mess he had created. All the napkin did was smear it even further. It was a lost cause. He grabbed another pen from his bag and put it carefully next to the spiral agenda.

The window was nice, in any case. It was a rare sunny day in Gotham, and its light was coming through the window onto Tim’s lap. He was always cold, so it felt nice against his black pants. It brightened up his already pale complexion and made his features seem sharper than they were. His pen tapped against the book, and his teeth caught his lower lip. It had taken him no time to leave the Manor today. 

He felt guilty. Granted, he always felt guilty, but more so, especially after last night’s fight. He didn’t know where he had gone wrong. Tim had tried so hard to be the big brother that Dick always was to him, that Jason was to him now. Damian never budged. It was the degrading comments, pretending he wasn’t there, constantly trying to compete with him.  Finally, Tim had said something, and everything had just unraveled. The ball of twine was finally in a heap of string on the floor. 

Bruce had given Tim that disappointing look, and that was all it had taken. Everything was his fault, and he knew that, but he didn’t understand. So Tim took all his belongings and placed them in a backpack except his laptop, which he worked on until morning. When the clock hit seven, he got dressed, grabbed his bag, and promptly left the Manor without another word. 

There was a nice coffee shop near Wayne Enterprises that he had always wanted to try. Tim opened the door to hear a little ding and found a booth in the furthest corner of the shop. Before heading in that direction, he asked and paid for a black coffee with two extra espresso shots. The girl smiled and complied. He placed his bag on his right, closest to the window, and unpacked all his belongings. His coffee sat on his right, with steam flowing from the cup into the air. 

He looked down at the clock to see he had been sitting there for three hours. His computer screen had Microsoft Word pulled up with case notes from suspicious activity near Crime Alley that Jason had asked him to look into. Jason was concerned that kids were being taken from the streets and used for something. Tim was about to continue when a girl slid into the seat in front of him. 

“Hello,” She seemed shy, “I’m here with my friends, and they dared me to come speak to you.”

Tim almost snorted because, of course, he was always on the brunt of a joke, “Well, you’ve spoken to me, so.”

“That came off wrong. I’m sorry.” She apologized, and Tim tilted his head slightly, “I thought you were cute, and I didn’t have the nerve to come up to you without some form of peer pressure.”

“Oh,” He felt the blush creeping up his cheeks, “I’m- I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be rude then. I’ve just had a rough night.”

She chuckled, “I can tell. You have ink all over your hand, cheek, and jaw.”

Tim felt himself smile, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n. And yours?”

“Tim.” 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Tim.”

The blush crept further up his neck, “You too, Y/n.”

He didn’t know what to say. He had never really been in this position before. It was always girls coming up to Dick or Jason. They had always seemed to know what to say and how to act, but all Tim felt was nervousness about doing or saying something wrong. He didn’t want to scare her away. She seemed kind, and her body language was open, which meant that maybe she actually had some interest in him. Her eyes seemed interested, and she didn’t look scared and-

A hand was on his cheek, and something wet was on his other cheek. Tim snapped back into reality to see her leaning over the table. One hand was cupping his cheek, and the other had a wipe of some kind, slowly taking the black smudges off his cheek. His cheeks and ears burned bright red. He was able to better examine her from here. Y/n’s eyes were kind, and her lips were tilted in a subtle smile. 

She pulled back too soon for Tim’s liking. She showed him the now grey-looking wipe, “Sorry, it was driving me crazy. I hope I didn’t cross any boundaries.”

“No- No!” Tim stuttered, “You didn’t. Um, thank you.”

Y/n smiled, and it made him feel at home. For once, he didn’t feel overwhelming stress on his shoulders. He didn’t think about Damian hating him, Bruce’s disappointed look, Jason’s glare whenever he thought Tim wasn’t looking, or Dick’s look of pity that he felt he could hide. For once, all he saw was kindness, interest, and admiration. It was a breath of fresh air, and he never intended to let it go. 

“Would your friends mind if you ditched them?” 

“If they did, why would that matter?” She had a look of mischief on her face, “They’re the ones who did this. Plus, I’d much rather sit here with you than them.”

He smiled, “I’ll go buy you a coffee.”

Tim slid out of the booth as she recited her coffee order—an order he would never forget again. 

[filmofhybe]

rainy café days - KIM SUNOO

synopsis : it’s a slow rainy day in your cafe house in Korea, and your one and only costumer was Kim sunoo. You were bored and didn’t have anything better to do so why not get to know him more, or would he just act cold and ignore you while continue to gazing at his computer ?

pairing : uni! student sunoo x café owner oc!

genre: stranger to crush, fluff , small smau

warning : nothing

word count : 1397

You gently shook the raindrops off your wet umbrella before stepping inside your café house. Your café was really unique, it’s located on the very top of a building in the middle of Seoul. The view of your cafe is the the whole point of why you decided to pick this location to continue your dream job as a café owner. The rent wasn’t ideal since the place was huge, and the view didn’t help with the price either. But at the end, you pulled it off, and now you’re working as a full-time café owner.

 

You dried your shoes before stepping inside the café. Putting the chairs back down and fixing the tables wiping the tables and bringing freshly baked cakes out of the fridge before setting the delicate desserts inside the fridge display. You turned on your café playlist before posting a daily café pictures on the café’s Instagram. And started going through what you should be baking today and yesterday’s sells.

 

It has been a few hours and only 3 people has came by and left with their hot coffee and dessert. It was a really slow day. You sighed as you continue patiently waiting for lunch time to come around the corner. As you were waiting, a man stepped into the café. He was holding a briefcase-type bag, brown trench coat with straight dress pants, and black sneakers. He was so cute with his blonde slightly wet hair due to the rain, it made my heart pound for a second I can’t lie… You greeted him politely before asking for his order.

 

“Hello welcome to Brew Café! What would you like to order today?” You smile brightly as you said. His perfume was filling up the space around you, making you admire him more.

 

“Hi I would like to have a Caramel Macchiato  with a shot of espresso, and can I also have that strawberry shortcake please? Thank you so much.” He gave you a smile back before waiting for you to type in his order.

 

“Alright that would be 66,000 won please.” You said as he taps his card into the card reader. You gave him his receipt before making his coffee. You made his caramel macchiato with lots of effort and carefully brought his strawberry shortcake out of the display before setting it down on the sliver tray. You grabbed the tray and walked to his table without spilling anything. He mumbled a small “thank you” before flashing you a cute gummy smile. He continues to type on his computer as he take a sip of the hot brewed macchiato.

 

It has been a bit an hour with this cute guy sitting in your cafe. You watched as he took really small bites of his shortcake, enjoying the sweet flavor in his mouth. His already lunchtime and you decided to make your own kimbap for lunch. You thought he would leave the moment you finish making your lunch, but as you walked out the kitchen, the man was still sitting there, on his laptop while sipping into his macchiato.

 

Is this guy taking his time or what… you were confused why he is still drinking and eating the stuff you served him an hour ago. People usually devours the pastry and drinks quickly. It makes you question if he didn’t like your food at all.

 

You decided to ask if he would allow you to sit next to him since there’s no one around and you’re bored out of your mind. As you quietly approach him. You softly tapped on his shoulder before he looks up at you with his crystal eyes. The eyes you could stare in them for hours.

 

“Hi I was just wondering if I can sit with you while I have lunch, since no one is around..” you gave him a soft smile hoping he would accept your offer.

 

“Oh of course! Please sit.” He offered you the sit beside him as he flashes his gummy smile once again that made your heart want to burst out.

 

“I’m sunoo by the way nice to meet you!”

 

“Oh uh I’m y/n nice to meet you too! Hope you enjoyed your food.”

 

“Oh my goodness is so good! I’m taking my sweet time to eat it!” That made you sigh of relief that he’s actually enjoying your food.

 

“Oh thank you so much. If you want more I can give it to you for free.” I only said this cuz i think you’re cute and I want you to stay longer in my café in this horrible weather.

 

“Is okay! Don’t worry about it, I hope you don’t mind staying here for a couple of hours just to finish up my homework.”

 

“No is okay! My café doesn’t close until 5 today so you are welcome to stay until then!” You exclaim as you take another bite of your food. You guys kept exchanging conversations about your current status, opinions on movies and favorite hobbies.

 

As time goes on, you guys felt like you have known each other for so long. To the point you guys have even started talking about your past careers.

“NO WAY YOU USED TO BE AN IDOL?” You particularly screamed as he told you this information.

 

“SHUT UP IT WAS AGES AGO!!” He laughed as he continued to type in his computer. It was pass 5 now and you insisted on letting him stay till he’s finished even though your store was already closed.

 

“LISTEN I WOULD BE ROOTING FOR YOU IF I’VE KNOWN YOU OMG WHAT.” You continue to rent about how much you would support him and cheer for him if you knew him long ago. That made Sunoo blush because no one was ever this enthusiastic about supporting him. Non of his family wanted to support him until be became a uni student 2 years later after his contract ended with the company. Even though he will always remain as Kim Sunoo in his group, he rarely appears in their activities now.

 

You quieted down after a while of renting so he can have some peace and quiet to finish his homework that’s due tomorrow. “And..I’m done!! Finally!” He stretched his arms as he close his laptop before putting it back in his briefcase-like bag. “Thank you for your company and food today it was really pleasing and I would definitely come tomorrow again. Sorry for making you stay with until this late, maybe I should drop you off.” He said wanting to return the kind offers from you, and to spend a bit more time with such a beautiful girl.

 

“Is no worries! And thank you for the offer but I think you should take some rest.” You told him as you grabbed your handbag and umbrella , ready to leave.

 

“y/n I dont take no’s as an answer.” He grabbed the umbrella in your hand before walking into the elevator with you. Opening the umbrella as rain continues to pour above the both of you

 

You didn’t notice that Sunoo was now admiring your gorgeous beauty. Your soft rosy cheeks and how your hair flow from the cold breeze. Realizing he developed feelings for you as you both gossiped about each others interests. He dropped you off at your nearest bus stop before handing you back your umbrella.

 

“Thank you for today, y/n. Your café is really a nice and special place for me. I really enjoy your presence. I hope you don’t mind me stopping everyday now.” He chuckled as he fiddled around his briefcase bag before taking out his umbrella.

 

“You made my café warmer in this weather so thank you for visiting. And I’ll gladly serve you everyday.” Deep inside of you were butterflies that such a beautiful man complimented your café. What an achievement…

 

“Right I’m going to go home now. I hope we can hang out tomorrow again, love. Take care.” He said before opening his own umbrella. Flashing you his smile once again before heading the other way back to his home.

 

From that day forward, Sunoo becomes a regular visitor to the café, not just for the ambiance and the coffee but also for the chance to spend time with the beautiful barista, y/n. Their connection grows stronger, and their feelings deepen into genuine affection.

 

As the rain continues to pour outside, y/n know that Brew Café remains a cozy haven for their blossoming relationship.

 

taglist: @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids

Taglist application is now available on my navigation post !

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[ravenempress101]

He Knows Who I Am M | Hoseok *Requested*

Pairing : Yandere!Jung Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Horror!Yandere Stalker

Rating 18+ PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Warnings: knife play *if you squint*, blood, stabbing, cream pie, NON CON, cameras, heavy drug play, stalker vibes, a very fudged up Hoseok, sneaking into her personal belongings, using force, HARDCORE YANDERE THEME, Choking, blindfold, passing out, body fluids ,moans, screams, Hardcore oral receiving, smut

Authors note: this is a request i hope i did justice with this one hun thank you for requesting if you love what you see definitely fill my inbox with anything and everything and if you love the weeknd go listen to his FM album

“Ahhhh there she is, my love, oh how i missed your begin”

Y/n stepped into the frame of Hoseok's eyes in the sky. She strutted to her lotion bottle of Japanese cherry blossom and shook it upon her palm. Hoseok smirks at yourself on his computer screen, that was his favorite scent.Her fingers smooth circles on her soft shoulder and trailed down to her thighs a hiss fell from her lips from the massages that soaked up her ebony skin.

As an awe escape from the chestnut haired man, the towel collided with the floor.His eyelashes connected over your breasts, to your thick stomach and laced with your love handles, his darkened brown orbs trailed up your legs, your mahogany skin illuminated his world. A finger ran over the computer screen longing for him to touch your presence. Hoseok pants tighten under him the thought of you taking all of him has aroused his frame.

“I need your touch my doll, I want all of you, just the thought of me inside you fuck”

He boomed curses as soft moans filled his car. He scanned down at his jeans as a wet spot of white covered his length. y/n’s breasts perked from her shower and her love handles swayed to the kitchen.

“What are you doing sweetheart, bending down so nicely, i’ll fuck you everywhere in that house’

Hoseok fantasy clouded his mind. Only a few miles away from you, he wanted for you to submit all to him and he’s going to get you to. It’s not like he doesn’t know his place around. He would time when you step foot out of the house to your busy domestic work life. y/n’s car would shuffle out of the driveway, he would pick the lock and make his home in your living room. He wanted to be loved by such an ancient soul. While you're gone each room his hands will lay on the things that captivated your smell so perfectly.

Your scent flourished on your lingerie, most prized possession was your panties that laid in your top drawer, a color that filled his tenderness. His palm buried his nose with your silky fabric, his nostrils overwhelmed with your insides of frosted vanilla. He sighed at the site of his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was crazy but crazy for your love. His lips brushed against your lingerie, the eyelashes were black as a demon rolling to the back of his head.

“Oh my darling you smell so sweet, I can't wait to devour you”

The panties colliding with the floor as he rummage through your things. Hoseok only knew you took birth control.it’s like you didn’t really need it cause he would love for you to bear his seed for him. Dances happen in your room to the songs of your favorite band. Brown orbs landed on the poster, his blood boiled staring at the one you go crazy for, his fingers appeared with a middle digit and nose crunched up, he would make sure you scream his name once he has you trapped under him.

The kitchen is where his footprints led him. A leftover cheese pizza that your lips retrieved from the belly of hunger. The Colombian espresso in your preferred mug. His face laced with a smirk capturing a plastic bag and placing the pizza slice in the bag and then your mug in his palm as he turned it up to sip from where you stopped. It’s like he wanted to be you so he could force you to feel all the feelings he had for you.

The clink of the door erupted in the house as the mysterious psycho heard your footsteps in the hall he snuck out the back door before y/n could know about his obsession.

Clouds luminous across the sky. Changing from a pure white to a gloomy grey. The clouds grew bigger. As a crack came over the grey sky. A flash of light struck the clouds.hoseok in the car. The rain drops decorated his car. He scanned around at his tools he was going to use on yourself. His boxy smile appeared from your virtual figure climbing into your california king bed and your pink duvet covers flooded your thick frame. Y/n’s body shivered calmly and her orbs closed, her mouth hung open with snores and soft whimpers. Her chest rapidly rising and falling.hoseok orbs scanning your sleeping figure. He grabbed his black hood and placed it on his head as it hugged its frame. He slid out of his car and his sneakers tapped over to y/n’s bedroom window. He lifts it up and he steps into the frame of the window, his whole body in her bedroom and he closes the window.

His soft steps around your room. His dark chocolate eyelashes sneaked glimpses of your free from stress structure. Hoseok footsteps to yourself, he couldn’t believe this is going to happen to him making it a reality to have you for one night. The black blindfold from his pocket and tied it over your vision. Waving his palm over your incognito site, y/n paralyzed with slumber. A tune he hummed by your ear.

Y/n shifted her shape, breathing accelerated her deep sleep. A boom of his hand colliding with your table echoed and jolted yourself out of deep sleep. Y/n eyelashes open, from there her vision is absent of light. Her muzzle went dry from her head jerking from side to side. She panicked under the situation she woke from. Fear rushed in on her bones, trembling from the sound her throat closed up.

“W-wwhoo I-I-is there”

“I saw you last night….. you looked breathtaking sweetheart”

His stern voice made her structure break into a cold blooded sweat. She didn’t know the person in her room or the voice. The aroma he carried was familiar to her from around the house after she came home.

“Please whoesever t-t-there why can’t I-I-I see”

Hoseok devilish smirk from ear to ear from your innocent being. Like a lion hunting its prey he was satisfied seeing you sprawled out in fear at just him being in the room he pinched his forearm and a gasp from his lips at his reality that he created. Footsteps echoed the man closing the distance in on you. Hoseok ringed fingers in your sweaty hair, absorbing the crown into a fist and he guided your head to his rosey cheek. His lips seeped of nectar and onto your soft cheeks.y/n hissed at the icy saliva from his lips, her nervousness got the best of her as her forehead dripped with wetness.

“I can’t believe i have you in my arms touching you, feeling every part of your body”

The rogue of him shook y/n to her core. If y/n saw the devil it would be him that has her in for his special torture and pleasure. y/n synthesized her legs gaining confidence from his hold, her palm on his has she tries to break free. His hands release as your head collides with the pillow, hoseok captures her waist and squeezes tightly. He seized the syringe from his pocket, his teeth bit the top and he blew the top and collided with the floor exposing an enormous metal needle. Plunging it into your neck, y/n screamed from the pinch as his thumb releases the substance into your bloodstream. Hoseok releases your begin, y/n starts her heels to the floor to run, her bottom half numb as she stumbled on the floor. y/n’s claws into the floorboards crawling away from hoseok. The drugs seeped through her body as she moved, burning sensations flared up and her yells filled the room.

Y/n’s heartbeat sped up was the only thing that was harken. Hoseok stepped near her dazed body, his tattooed palm around her neck. Your breath hitched from the pressure enclosing on the shaft of your throat. He lifted her by her throat and smashed yourself on the wall. y/n and hoseok eye to blindfold contact. y/n trembling fingers on his wrist hoseok strained all his body weight on your petite cervix. Short breaths performed on her frame, your lungs collapsing with every suffocating breath that hits you. hoseok trailed his gaze over your fragile begin.He could snap you in Half if he wanted to but he wanted to do more before he broke you.

“I’ll clip those pretty little wings if it’ll mean you wont try to fly away from me, ah my love your so sweet”

“N-n-no please leave me alone, i promise if you leave I won’t tell no one please i’ll give you money please”

“Gosh I don’t want your money, i want to be in your skin but your body underneath me would have to do”

Clenching his jaw, he lifts you up by your neck and chucks your body on the bedspread. Her legs guide her to the headboard. His hand extended to your ankle tightening. Yanking your body down to him his enormous built towered over you. His fingers grazing over the bump in his pocket. The coldness of the metal shook your confidence as a tear slipped from the rim of your eye and soaked into the blindfold. Her nipples manifest through her sleep shirt. Has his tongue graze over his bottom lip licking of excitement at the arousal of the piercing blade on your flesh. The blade penetrating over the outline of the nipple. A strangled moan manifested in the atmosphere from her betraying begin.

“The sounds you make I want to hear it forever and always”

Hoseok blade slipped underneath your shirt. He craved tiny cuts in your outfit and your shirt in half. Y/n’s bra manifest from the cutting he did. His chocolate doe orbs grew with his lust that fulfilled his thoughts. Your body shape was like a harp that his fingers strung perfectly. He knew he loved who he picked from being outside of your job all those tired days.

Then his calloused fingers in your locks of hair the blade in his other hand. He sliced the end of your hair and yanked it from your root. He bought your strands to his nostrils and his inhale of vanilla bean overtook his appearance. His eyes close as your scent washed over him. Goosebumps decorated his skin. He loved how your scent made him high. Winces made him knock out of his fantasy. Her sweat seeped through her blindfold, her jaw clenched from the headache he gave her. The blindfold wet her broken orbs uncovering from the shield. Seeing the porcelain man above her and his deranged look spreaded fear through her veins. His eyebrows furrowed in satisfaction. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Ahhh look at those eyes so full of life, if you don’t do as I say I will make them lifeless and had them to my collection”

“Oh god p-p-please don’t k-kill me”

“I won’t if you behave”

The knife trails down to your imprint. The point of the knife penetrates the hem of your pantie as he lifts the fabric breaks and pieces of your clothing his mouth quivered at your bud being exposed. Y/n hyperventilate from the cold air hitting her forbidden flower. His orbs glimpses to your drenched entrance, your betrayed arousal like a siren for his mouth. His face inches away from your pussy. Hoseok's strawberry lips parts from his shaky breath from your bud. Y/n’s breath hitch in the back of her throat, his eyes on your fidgety frame. As his palm raises it comes back down on your stomach with a slap echoes off of you. Y/n shrieks in pain.

“ stop moving, I want to make you feel good with every inch”

“No please I don’t want this please sir”

Hoseok heart shapes on your sensitive clit stroking with airy kisses. Y/n felt the warmth sensation of his mouth. A feeling she didn’t want to come to terms with. Her stomach churned from his kissing building rougher and sloppier.Than his tongue passed his bottom lip and he parted your drenched folds as he kitten licks inside you.Y/n groaned from his dominance performing on her.y/n arched her back at his heated tongue refreshing your sensitive spot.Then he dives his tongue inside yourself as he wiggled sending for your high.Y/n’s refusals danced as moans that he love like a symphony.Once y/n was slurring her no’s he knew you were close and he ejected his tongue an placed a soft peck on your clit.

Y/n’s breath steady from his tongue out of her. She sighed in relief.He licked your juices from his plump lips and then y/n heard a soft buzz in the distance.Hoseok had a rose bud in his hand and y/n’s legs closed shut from the buzzing sound her head shook everywhere in protest.

“No please don’t do this to me stop your hurting me”

“You look so ethereal when you beg for mercy, babygirl you should know I give no one mercy”

The vibrating got closer to y/n as his palms on your knee forcing your legs apart, the vibrations on your inner thigh. Y/n clenched her bottom jaw from the vibrating toy. Your mind wondering to what you ate to fill the focus on your high spilling out of yourself from the monster above you. He loved when you clenched your eyes close in terror his excitment at the darkening horror taking over.

The waves of vibrations to your clit and the toy inside yourself as the rose bud attached itself inside. The vibrations from her core washed over her thighs and to her whole frame. Y/n moans and short circuits of her body made his eyes smile with anticipation for her. He loved playing with his toys and getting to use them on you made it worth wild. He watched the rose bud penetrate the innocence out of you. Robes of her arousal leaked from her filled entrance and droplets from her thigh were overstimulated.

“Mhmmm such a pretty toy for a pretty doll herself the tears that spill from your eyes I want to frame it with the picture I take of you in my room”

“Ahhhh nooahh pleasmmhm I can’t take anymore”

Hoseok apprends his phone out of his pocket and pressed the red button to record. When the light flashes on her being ruined. Y/n cries his name, her saliva on the side of her mouth her pupils dilated from her euphoria mixed with high laced drugs. His rough skinned on your cheeks and hoseok enclosed on your face. Your plump lips puckered as his strawberry ones on your ebonies. His camera covers all the angles of your overstimulation. Your body displayed his sick pleasure. Your pain on camera. It would always be added to his collection with your naked shower pictures and your private masterbations.

“Please stop recording me, I don’t deserve this leave me a-a-lone”

Y/n stuttering out the last of her words. Hoseok held his cutting tool. He trailed the shiney point along your bottom lip. Your mouth met the cold blade. He pushed it in and punctured your tongue with a small womb manifesting. The metallic taste of your blood as the womb bleeds more and into your bottom lip. Y/n screamed,her womb opened and her blood spilled out onto her chin. He erupted in laughter at the red substance from your body.

“Awee hun you know the red of your blood makes it so inviting it compliments the fear you show me”

Hoseok intertwined his heart shapes on yours and his lips kissed the side of your mouth as a bloody print was left. the metallic of your blood became so welcoming for him. He loved how sweet it became on his bottom lip. He licked the remaining off his lips and then his fingers on his way to his belt.

The clink of his belt filled the air and y/n’s ears perked up from his pants sliding down.

W-w-what are you about to do”

“Ahh darling, you’ll see you’ll love the surprise from me”

When his boxers collided with the floor his length sprung free. Precum dripped down his shaft. Hoseok's fingers ran along him as he was covered in his own wetness. lining himself at your forbidden entrance. Hoseok shoving his member and splitting your folds open in the process. Y/n half muttered curses from her ebony lips.the pain of his enormous size in and out of her. The bottom half shot of pain with every jab picking up pace. Hoseok's swollen member inside you penetrates every inch of you. Y/n’s high pitch screams from his abuse.

Mhmm ah ah ahh oh my god w-w-hy Mhmm”

“Don’t speak baby I know I know you can’t talk properly it’s just a side effect of the drug”

Y/n’s legs on each side of his torso from the overwhelming thrusting he did on her. His thrusts are beastly and sharp. The drugs that flowed through your system clenched around him in a sluggish manner. Hoseok lifted up and tossed you around and then he slammed back into your hole. your back on his chest he kissed your neck leaving red and blue flesh wombs. y/n’s moans becoming whispers from the overwhelming screaming.Her voice gives out from the struggle of a ruthless man.

Awweee you can’t scream no more good you’re only seconds away from passing out thank you for giving me what's mine princess”

Y/n bounced up and down from the sharpness he held. Her hands in front of her gripping for dear life and her body shaking fast his digging furious y/n contracted as her orgasm was being pulled out of her. Her ears clouded with the wet sounds of his pounding. Your body quaked at his hits, your orbs to the back of your head, the white pupils appearing through, your body heated up at the temperature of your sweat filled body. The drugs gave themselves out and from your breath being slowed and lightheadedness took over. Your eyes dotted with spots of darkness as hoseok kept digging in yourself as y/n fell from lack of firmness on to him her mouth hung open as her body froze from him. He was still jolting in y/n his robes of his sticky substance in yourself.

“Aweee she stopped breathing what a wonderful site”

He tossed you back on the bed, your body paralyzed from the abuse that he calls love. the ruthless entercourse of him. He captures your necklace “y/n” and yanks it as it strikes his claw, his heinous orbs run over the necklace. A wink appeared on his eyelash from what he wanted and got.

smirking at the piece of his work he conjured, whispering to himself

“Sweet dreams i’ll be back for you my y/n”

His boot prints over to your bloody worn out figure, his lips on your forehead with a peck and y/n shivered from his wintery kiss.The night from him and the torment from your new sanity.

[spiltscribbles]

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

.-

SEND ME A PROMPT  |  A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

.-

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam. 

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out. 

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad. 

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel 

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover 

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

.-

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

.-

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink  like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair. 

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.” 

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words. 

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other. 

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think  that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

.-

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Quarters. | 9

☼1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 

prompt: “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” — soul-gazing

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings/au: please keep warnings in mind—dysfunctional relationship with a capital D, toxic relationship themes, but they’re attempting to get better, probably inaccurate therapy but i tried, m-ish, humor(i try), mentions of drug usage, cheater cheater pumpkin eater?, fluff, angst, boxer!au, iceskater!au. 

authors note: Hello!!💖it’s been a while since the last update but here we are. ✨This chapter is pretty long✨. Unlike some of the other parts, it is following the timeline of the previous part(pt. 8) so just keep that in mind. See m.list for other parts. Enjoy!🥰

“Do it again, you need to stop relying on your right leg so much!”

Your coach yells for the third time in the last hour, she’s being a tyrant today. Your poor ankles are about to break off, your legs are straining and the cold air is starting to feel like vengeful needles. It’s been about two months since the incident with your leg and the doctor at your last check up granted you freedom to skate again. You’re glad it did to because you were about to go crazy. After the scandal came out about you and your ex-coach judge, she asked you if you wanted to get back into pairs. She went on about how Lucas was open to joining pairs again and that maybe you could get back with him—tempting offer. You’ve thought about it, though you still haven’t made a decision. It has been months since your injury, you can no longer use it as an excuse to take things easy. 

Determined to get it right, you skate back to your starting point and try it again. You skate forward, bending your knees just slightly to gain more momentum and once you turn, you take off into a triple salchow. Perfect.

”Finally,” You mutter, skating over to the edge of the rink where your coach is just getting off a phone call.

“Okay, Lucas will be here on Thursday to practice with you,” She smiles, tucking her phone in her pocket, “there’s a competition in two months and I think you two should sign up for it.”

“Coach, I haven’t decided if I want to get back into that,” You put on your blade guards and walk over to the lockers, “I just don’t know yet.”

“Think about it,” She leans against the lockers as you untie your skates and put them in your bag, “if you’re seriously pursuing this career, you have to be flexible. You’re not getting any younger. I hate it just as much as you do but you’ll get positive exposure with him and maybe even pick up a sponsor for the season.”

“Fine,” You zip up your duffel bag and slip your hoodie on, deciding to leave the yoga pants on, “but I need a break. I worked a night shift last night so I’m only standing because I took three espresso shots and I’m about to take another one, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, try to get some rest this weekend. You’ll be at the ballet studio for half of next week so you won’t be on the ice,” She says that, hoping it’ll give you some relief, “just don’t forget to soak your feet tonight.”

You gather your stuff and walk out of the center, waving at Carrie the desk clerk like a zombie. It’s only 8 o’clock but you’ve been here for two hours, you feel like you’re in a time loop. An eternal warp created to keep you totally spent. When you hop in your car, you crank it up and turn the heat on. Not long after, your eyelids begin to feel heavy so you drive over to the closest coffee shop. When you look down at your phone, you see a missed call from Jeon Jungkook. All prior emojis have been removed from his contact.

His call will stay missed, just like the other five. You’re not in the mood for his sob story. About two weeks ago, you decided that you two needed to take a break but he took it hard. You remember sitting on your couch with crossed arms and staring at him as he twisted and squirmed uncomfortably.

“What kind of break?”

Are there different kinds?

“The kind where we stop seeing each other all the time, I don’t know what kind that is, Jungkook. But I can’t deal with this right now, it’s causing me major stress and anxiety...”

“You can’t deal with me?” He sounds hurt.

“Not with you Jungkook, with your crap. I have a ice skating career to try to work out, a job, school, the last thing I need to worry about is whether you can control yourself,” You frown, “you were just at my house with my niece and next thing I know you’re out getting high and fooling around with other girls.”

“You’re still upset about the photo,” He concludes, “baby, I told you, it didn’t go anywhere with that girl, I pushed her off. I wasn’t completely sober but I know I didn’t let her-”

“That’s exactly my point, you were doing drugs. And for what? You don’t need it. I understand a little bit of smoking every now and then but I can’t handle when you do that other stuff. That night was a disaster. I got stabbed, how does that even happen? But of course, it would happen to me,” You massage the sides of your temples. “I’m just over it, I’m tired.”

“You want to give up on us? Just like that? I’ve apologized a thousand times, I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m sorry,” He twiddles his fingers and bites at his bottom lip, “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m not giving up,” You defend, “we need some space to work on our selves.”

“Why can’t we work on ourselves together?”

“We’ve been doing that and it doesn’t work.”

The conversation continued on until you two ended up arguing for a good hour before you lied, saying you had to go to class. He left and you haven’t heard from him since, not a a call, a text, a call, not even a like on any of your recent posts. He’s taking this well.

*

“Why did you do that!? She’s gonna think I called her,” Jungkook snatches the phone from Jimin, “fuck, are you trying to get me killed?”

“Come on,” Jimin roles his eyes with a grin, putting his boxing gloves back on, “you guys can’t stay away from each other, you expect me to believe you two aren’t talking-”

“I’m serious, we haven’t talked for weeks,” Jungkook locks his phone with a frown, tucking it in his gym bag, “she’s done with me.”

“Oh, aw man,” He is serious, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys broke up.” 

He had been by you and Jungkook for the entirety of the relationship, it always seemed like you preferred things to be spontaneous. Admittedly, he knew Jungkook would do something that pushed you over the edge one day but he didn’t think it would be so soon. 

“We didn’t break up,” Jungkook mumbles, tying his hair back with a head band, “we’re just taking a break, that’s what she told me at least.”

“Aw, that sucks,” Jimin has to contain his amusement, it’s not funny but the fact that Jungkook is giving you full control over the relationship is unusual to him.

“Every time I think about trying to talk to her, I just remember that face she makes and that tone she uses. That’s when I know she does not give a single fuck, it’s scary.” 

“Is there a reason she’s being so hard on you? Don’t get me wrong, you were in the wrong. You shouldn’t have been there but it’s been weeks.”

“Her past relationship was rough on her mentally and emotionally. When she was young she had some things happen to her that causes her to have a hard time trusting others.”

“If you knew that then why did you do what you did?”

“I don’t know, okay? Everyone's been beating me up about it but I just don’t have an answer for you. I said I was sorry,” Jungkook shakes his head, fists making brunt contact with the punching bag, “I just I miss her,”

“It’ll be alright, she’ll come around,” Jimin holds the bag, keeping it still for the lovesick boy, “just give it some time. Hey, I’m taking my niece to the ice-skating rink in town, you should come!”

Jungkook, dramatically collapses to the ground, laying back on the ground with his boxing gloves on his face. “Ice-skating, why would you suggest ice-skating!?” He whines. “That’s literally what she does, it’s just going to remind me of her...”

“Aw Kook, I know,” Jimin can’t help but giggle at Jungkook’s overreaction, “that’s okay, you’ll be fine, and besides,” He pulls him up from the ground and pushes his shaggy hair back, “you can’t stay away from each other forever..”

“What about this one?” You step out of the dressing room, turning from side-to-side to let her see, “I like the color.”

“That’s the one,” Harmony scrolls through her phone, eyes going between you and the screen, “perfect.”

“Harmony, you’re just saying that!” You whine, turning to look into the mirror again with a frown.

“Y/n, this is the 11th dress you’ve tried on, it looks great. I’m serious.”

“Okay, I’ll go with this one then,” You smile, going back in the dressing room to change back into your clothes. Yuna’s having a party for the charity she works with. All of the money donated goes to buying toys and clothes for kids in foster care and orphanages, you attend every year. 

“You know, I heard Jungkook might come with Taehyung,”

Ugh, you forgot that your groups of friends are also friends. Jeon Jungkook, you still consider him your boyfriend in some aspects, but you don’t want to face him right now. Maybe you’re dragging this out too far but honestly, you don’t care. You love him but right now, you’re doing too well to let him crawl himself back into your life. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t creeping on his social media every now and then, you do care enough to see how he’s doing on there. 

“Hm,” 

“That’s all you have to say?” She giggles.

“Yup.”

“Did you officially dump his ass yet?”

You step out of the dressing room, rolling your eyes harder than necessary.

“Look, what happened to you was terrible. You couldn’t skate because of him. You caught him with another girl and you still let him take you home,” She was still bitter about Jungkook taking you away the way he did, she still thinks she should have insisted more.

You clear your throat, “I rather not talk about it.” 

It’s been admittedly awkward every time one of your friends bring that night up. On one hand, you understand why they bash him so hard but on the other hand, it’s hard to hear. You two leave the mall and grab lunch to eat in the comfort of your car..

During this break, you’ve decided to try and take things slow, relax. Admittedly, it would be nice to have Jungkook around again, to run errands with, to cuddle with. It’s hard not to miss him, you knew it would be. 

“We should go to the pop-up ice-skating rink on campus today, it’s a family thing I think,” Harmony squeezes ketchup onto her fries with a thoughtful him, “it sounds fun.”

“It’s funny you say that, Lucas invited me to go ther. He was going to go with his family, I told him I probably wouldn’t be able to.” You sigh.

“Oh, that’s right! The prince is back in town,” Harmony always had a thing for Lucas, even in high school. When you two were partners years ago, she still had a crush on him, “then we definitely should go. Are you getting back into pairs with him?

“Yeah, we’ll do one season together next year.” You have to admit, you are excited to get back into the practice with one of your best friends. 

“I’ll definitely have to brush up on my ballet lessons and I was always a bit too shaky during lifts. Our instructions used to say if I don’t look comfortable during lifts on the stable ground, I can’t expect to look good while I’m being lifted and Lucas is still skating. I trust Lucas a lot more now so I think it’ll go well,”

“Jungkook will love that.”

You take a bite of your chicken sandwich with a heavy sigh, “He’ll live...”

“Uncle,” Yona sits with her little brother in the back seat while they wait for Jungkook to finish pumping the gas, “why does your friend look so grumpy? Doesn’t he want to go skating with us?”

Jimin glances back at Yona and smiles, thinking of how he should explain Jungkook’s situation. “He’s just upset, he’s fine.”

“What is he upset about?” Jimin hesitates for a moment but Jungkook signals that he’s running inside for something.

“Well,” He turns to face her, “can you keep a secret?” She eagerly nods. “Kookie is a little sad because he misses his girlfriend.”

“Oh, what happened to her?” Yona frowns, fearing what Jimin might say.

“Nothing happened to her, he’s okay, they just haven’t seen each other in a long time,” He rakes his brain, trying not to say too much about Jungkook’s love life, “but it’s okay, he’s alright. Just try to understand, he’s not trying to be a grump, he’s just a big teddy bear who pretends to be tough when he’s sad,” He grins, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Oh,” She nods adorably, pitying Jungkook, “I won’t,”

in the nick of time, Jungkook comes back with a receipt and mumbles something about the poor management in the convenience store. Jimin notices how Yona looks at him with sympathetic eyes but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too wrapped up in his phone to see that a 9-year-old is pitying his dysfunctional love-life.

It doesn’t take long before the four of them arrive at the skating rink and Jimin is helping, Juda, Yona’s sleepy 5-year-old brother out of the car. Yona takes the liberty of escorting her self out and walking over to Jungkook.

“Hi,” She looks up at him, not even a little intimidated by his towering stature over herself.

Jungkook looks around, as if she’s talking to someone else. “Hi,” He gives her a small wave, “it’s Yona, right?”

“Yes,” She nods, walking by his side, “uncle said your girlfriend skates, do you skate too?” 

Jungkook mentally cringes, bracing himself for whatever Jimin told this little girl about his personal life. “No, I’m a boxer, she’s the skater.”

“Ahh, ice skating is prettier than boxing, you should ice skate too,” She looks back at Jimin and Juda walking side by side, wondering if she should walk with them or stay with Jungkook. Just when she was about to further judge Jungkook’s life choices, Jimin and Juda catch up. Jimin leads the four of them to the skate rental booth where Jungkook avoids eye contact with the girls behind the counter. It’s hard enough to be in your environment, let alone be surrounded by couples and families skating to their hearts content. It’s not the same without you, it doesn’t feel like he should even be trying to enjoy himself after what he did to you.

Jimin and the kids get their skates on, but Jungkook tells them to go ahead without him. The more he sits here, the less he wants to be here.

*

“We decided to come and skate for a little bit, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take your invitation, I didn’t think I’d be able to come.” You and Harmony skate out onto the ice.

Lucas stands at the edge of the rink, smiling. “It’s okay, I’m here with my family so don’t sweat it, hey! You wanna practice a routine, for old time sake?”

“There are way too many people to be practicing a routine. Besides, I’m already sore from practice yesterday.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? I thought you told me he skates with you sometimes,” He skates a circle around you, a toothy grin on his face, “I want to meet him.”

“He was busy,” You lie. You don’t know where Jungkook is or what he’s doing, “It’s just us.″

Somehow, he believes you and skates off with his family while you breathe.

“You lie,” Harmony shakes her head as if to say shame on you.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m not gonna burden him with my personal problems.”

You two go back and forth until she surrenders, claiming she’ll leave you a Jungkook’s relationship out of her mouth for the rest of the day. You highly doubt she can but you appreciate the effort. 

Nononononono—why is he here? And blonde. Your eyes widen, your palms get sweaty, just seeing him affects you. You’ve missed him. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the bench with his skates beside him, he looks sad. Who is he here with? 

”Y/n, Harmony, hey!” Jimin skates over to you with two little kids by his side, they’re so cute. “What’re you two doing here?”

”Jimin? Hi, fancy meeting you here, we decided to come last minute,” You’ve connect the dots now, “who are these two cuties?”

“I’m babysitting my niece and nephew,” He holds both of your hands and the both of them say a shy little greeting, “say hello guys,”

“Hi,” Yona waves at you two and you greet her with a bright smile.

Jimin glances back at Jungkook who has yet to notice you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” You nod.

“Harmony can you please watch them for a second?”  “Me? Um, I guess but-”

You skate to the edge of the rink and Jimin follows, you already anticipating what this conversation is about.

“Jungkook is here.”

“I know, I saw him,” You deadpan.

“Look, I know what happened between you guys and he probably doesn’t want me to say this, but he’s been the biggest bitch since you two split, I’ve never seen him so at odds with himself.”

“What am I supposed to do about that? That’s not my fault.” You frown.

“I’m not saying that you need to do anything,” Now he understands what Jungkook meant about your infamous tone. “I just wanted to let you know, I figured you haven’t talked.”

“I’m sorry,” You hold your face in your hands, “I’m not trying to be mean, I just have a lot on my mind and I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with him today.”

“Maybe you two can talk, I’m not saying you should get back together but maybe talking face to face will help you find common ground?”

That’s advice that you know you should take but the thought of talking to him makes your stomach uneasy. It’s easier to ignore him, erase him from your life while you figure out what you want. You’re very childish in the aspect of talking things out, he is too.

“Here he comes,” Jimin looks over at Jungkook who is slowly approaching you two, “I’ll give you two some space-”

“Jimin, I swear, if you did this on purpose!-” Your threat is cut short when he skates away and Jungkook skates up to you. As if you don’t even see him, you quickly skate away, uninterested in anything he might have to say.

Jungkook knows he can’t possibly out-skate you. He mumbles a few curses before skating over to Jimin and the kids as frustrated as ever. For a moment, he almost changed course because Harmony, his biggest hater, is with them and she is one of the last people he wants to see.

“Jungkook, hey,” Jimin sighs, dreading the angry frown in Jungkook’s brows, “I’m glad you decided to-”

“Did you know she was here?” Jungkook cuts straight to the punch, not paying any mind to Harmony whose staring at him as if he’s a mass murderer.

“No,” Jimin shrugs, voice low in order not to alarm the kids who are skating near by, “you know I would have told you.”

“I’ll be in the car.” He skates off, anxious to get off the ice but he’s stopped when another skater bumps into his shoulder.

“Sorry!-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shrugs, but just when Jungkook was about to leave the guy gives him a weird look. 

“Wait, what’s your name? You look so familiar,”

“Jungkook,” He responds with a bit of impatience, “I don’t think I know you from anywhere, sorry-”

“You’re Y/n’s boyfriend! She showed me some of her pictures pictures,” Lucas smiles but Jungkook’s eyes darken, “I’m Lucas, we’re competing in pairs again next season, I’m sure she’s told you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know, probably slipped her mind,” You haven’t mentioned it on purpose. Then again, how could you? You haven’t talked in weeks.

Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, he meets your partner, and he’s not ugly,

“She said you couldn’t come because you were busy, did you come to surprise her?”

“Something like that- I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Okay, well...nice to meet you,” Lucas waves him off but Jungkook doesn’t pay him any mind. 

He thought this might go differently, why did he think that? As soon as he saw you, that tug in his heart came back, that desire to be around you came back. When you walked away, it made him feel like crap, you didn’t even want to look at him.

While he’s skating off to the side to leave the rink, he sees you taking off your personal skates and putting them in their bag. Of course, your caddie is right next to where his heavy black boots are. He enters the room opens the caddie with the little pass-code they gave him when he rented the skates. You spare him a glance as you tie your sneakers and he sits to get his shoes on.

“Did you have to ignore me like that?” He decides to speak up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You frown, “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Since when did you start caring where I go?” He bites back. “You’ve been ghosting me for fucking weeks and suddenly I’m not allowed to go out?”

“I didn’t want to see you...I was doing so good, I was forgetting about you.” You lean back, not giving him eye contact.

”Wow, just what I wanted to hear,” He thought you would say something like that but he didn’t expect you to be so blunt. 

“You can’t say you’re surprised, can you?”

“No, but the least you can do is talk to me.”

”Fine, that’s fair. What do you have to say?” You stand to your feet, your bag tight in your hand/

”Believe it or not,” He gets up to lean on the wall behind him, “I love you, so I'm letting you drag me along and make all of the rules but I’m just asking that you communicate with me, I need to know what you want,” He tends to ask this question when he’s most desperate for your good side to emerge.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want? I’m not the one going around making decisions that hurt our relationship, not recently anyway.” You throw a jab at him, you couldn’t contain it anymore.

“If you’re trying to make me feel like shit, you’ve succeeded. You’ve been succeeding for weeks now, it’s actually starting to get to me, mentally.” As he says that, an unsuspecting few individuals come in to get there things.

“Can-” You pause and walk over to him to eliminate the awkward distance, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

His spirits brighten a little because at least you’re interested in continuing the conversation, you haven’t even attempted to do that until now. So when he stutters out an “okay”, his feet move as soon as yours do. He’s walking right next to you and you find yourself keeping your arms crossed, away from his hands that you would normally be holding. By the time you walk out to the rink, Jimin is still with the kids and Harmony is gone, probably in the restroom. You find a secluded area near the concession area and take a seat, he does the same right across from you. 

“Do you want to break up?” 

He puts it out there. He’s never been the one to hesitate, especially when his heart is on the line.

“What do you mean?” You swallow, not expecting to be confronted with that question.

He almost scoffs because you’re having a similar reaction to his reaction to you telling him you wanted to take a break.

“Do you not want to be in a relationship anymore? If this isn’t something you’re willing to do anymore, I need you to tell me so I can grieve in peace...I feel really lost right now.”

“Grieve? I’m not going to die if we break up, Jungkook, and I never said I wanted to break up—I never said I didn’t love you either. That’s not what this is about, it’s not about whether we love each anymore, it’s about trust.” 

“How can I gain your trust?”

You look around, making sure no one is listening in on you two before mumbling out your answer. “I don’t know...I just don’t trust you, I can’t tell you how to make it up to me because people who screw me over, I normally stay as far away from them as I can.”

All you can think about is the lies from your birth-mother, the betrayal and humiliation that came over you when you found out about your ex. Situations like that always come to mind when the subject of trust is mentioned. You’ve been hurt and Jungkook knows that, he knows when you feel like you can’t trust someone, you shut down. You want nothing to do with that person, your pain blinds you—its your character flaw.

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now,” You mumble, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I know.” He scoffs, a look of disbelief that turns into an understandable shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve always thought of you as someone I didn’t deserve, you know that,” He glances down at his twiddling fingers, “when we got together, you changed me and I’m so grateful for that...I was such a shitty person before I met you- I mean, I’m sure you think I’m shitty now but I was way worse.” It surprises you when you see tears welling at his eyes that he quickly wipes away, tattooed fingers getting a bit wet.

“Jungkook,” You lay a hand over his with sympathetic eyes, “I still love you.”

“Seriously?” He glances up at you, surprised. 

“Yes...You hurt me, you made me feel stupid and I’m not over it...But I never forget those times where I made life difficult for you, you never made me feel irredeemable. No matter how awful I acted, you never made me feel like a burden. That’s more than I can say about a lot of people in my life.”

The more you talk this out with him, the more you realize how harshly you’ve been treating him. It doesn’t change how you feel about your relationship, but it does open your eyes to the standard you’ve been holding him to. You don’t know if you’re ready to start again.

“Well, I have to be honest with you,” He looks at you through his dirty blonde locks, “it still hurts like hell to have you treat me like a stranger. That shit is painful, even for me.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur out an apology before you can really think about it, “I’m just upset at you is all...” Slowly, you take your hand off of his and your eyes wander back to his dear-like eyes. 

“Everyone’s telling me I should let you go but I don’t want to. I just need to know that you’re willing to wait for me, and to work on yourself...”

“I’ll do anything, I’ll do whatever it takes for us,”

Shortly after that day, you found yourself thinking more and more about your future. It made you cringe at one point, what were you planning to do with the rest of your life? Whatever you planned to do, you always imagined Jungkook would be by your side. Now, you’re coming to terms with the fact that things may not go as planned.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Lucas calls your name from outside of the dressing room.

”What are you doing in here? This is the woman’s locker room,” You open the door, now fully dressed in your new leotard.

”We’re the only ones here,” Lucas stands with a matching outfit, far less sparkly as yours.

”Why does she always pick these leotards for me? You always get the toned down looks-” You walk over to the mirror, furrowing your brows, “Oh, actually, this one is kinda nice.”

“She knows you’re the most dramatic out of the two of us, maybe that’s why,” He shrugs his shoulders before quickly running back out into the ballet studio. Your least favorite part of your career is the ballet lessons, it’s the most grueling.

“Come on out, Y/n, we only have the studio for the morning so we need to use our time wisely.”

“Sorry,” You walk out with an urgency, “the costume fits okay, a little snug but it’s doable.”

Coach gives you a knowing look, she’s been floating the idea of a diet around. As committed as you are to your craft, dieting is one thing you don’t think you need to do well. You try to stay fit but sometimes you’re more concerned about your dwindling love life than you dress size. The ballet instructor emerges from around the corner and you cringe, the next few hours are about to be painful. 

Yet, as the class progresses, your thoughts drift farther from the positions and you find yourself zoning out completely.

*

*

At one point in time, you couldn’t imagine being without Jungkook. Out of all of the people who’ve come and gone out of your life, he stayed. He became your best friend and your first love.

“I don’t want to be here anymore, please, just let me go home,” You sat on the hotel room floor, hair pin in your hands and a painfully cold ice bag on your ankle, “...I can’t go back out there.”

She stands with crossed arms, her unchanging expression not doing anything for your emotional state.”Y/n, you are a professional, and do you know what professionals do?”

”No.”

“They finish the competition, no matter what. You need to stay for the judging, “

“Why? I fell on my biggest jump on live television. Cindy. I look like an amateur...There’s no way in hell they’ll even consider placing me. That means I’m done for, I might as well kiss nationals goodbye.”

”That was the last program, you still have a chance-“

”Not after Charlotte’s routine! You said it yourself, I had to be flawless or Charlotte would take my spot in the qualifying team, there was no room for error. This is the one time it had to be perfect...” You use the bed to help you up and you sit down n the edge of it.

”It won’t be perfect every time. You work harder than any girl I know, and not just in this sport, you work hard at whatever you do and you support yourself, you’re the only girl I know who’s parents aren’t paying for you to be here. You deserve to be here, you made one mistake, one. It’s not the end of the world, sweetheart,” Cindy takes a seat beside you, a comforting hand going to your shoulder, “these things happen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down and think rationally. Cindy is trying her best to talk you off of the ledge but you’re very much still there. She says you work so hard, but what do you have to show for it? You’re doing this alone a majority of the time. Your family only comes to support you sometimes, they don’t have a lot of free time to spend on your hobby. Your iceskating is a glorified hobby to them, they won’t say it but it’s true. After they told you to pick a major and find a good paying 9-5, they stopped paying for your iceskating. They’re paying for school but that’s it, you’re supporting yourself in every other aspect. That gave you all the reason to try to prove to them that you were an exceptional athlete. To prove to them that you did it all on your own, that’s your only goal. Yet, the more you reach for that, the farther you get from it.

”Listen, I need to check on the other girls, alright? I hope you reconsider.” She pecks your forehead, a motherly affection that you’ve come to appreciate from her. She is like a mom in some ways. She cares for the entire team, and she would never say it, but she has a particular soft spot for you. She can see how much you want this, how the ice can take you to a different place.

You were meant to do this, she always tells you that. She saw the fire in you as soon as she accepted you on her team. Your passion attracted her to you, you never stopped, you had so much drive. Some people are meant to fight tooth and nail for what they want, sometimes you have to ask yourself, why do I have be one of those people?

Ignoring your better judgment, you packed your bags and took the 2-hour drive back to your apartment. All while you were fleeing the city to seek refuge at home, you received multiple phone calls from Jungkook but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. When you got home, you took off your tracksuit and sank face first into your coach. 

As much as you wanted Jungkook to come to the competition, you insisted that he stay and take that job. He hasn’t been boxing as much so any extra art job he can take, you encourage him to take it. He told you he’d streamed the competition while working on the mural at a nearby bar. His heart sank when you took that fall.  You put hours of practice into that routine and perfected it, he had seen you do it flawlessly several times. 

All he wanted to do was hug you and tell you that you did well but all he could do was hope that you weren’t beating yourself up. He could only imagine how devastated you were and to not be able to be there for you, he couldn’t stand it. He finished up the mural and you had finally texted him saying, ‘I came home early.’ He went straight to your apartment with the big pink bunny he bought for you, you need it even more now.

”Hey, it’s me,” He opened the front door and announced himself softly and walks further inside. 

The television barely illuminates the living room but he sees you laying on the couch. He sits the bunny down behind the couch so you can’t see them before walking around to greet you in your depressing state.

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, baby,” He rests a hand on thigh and kisses your cheek, “you must’ve known how much I was missing you,” His attempt to make you smile goes painfully unnoticed. 

He bites at his bottom lip in thought. “Did something happen?...”

You swallow the lump in your throat and finally look him in the eyes, “Did you watch my second program?” 

“I did, you looked beautiful-”

“I’m quitting.”

He turns his whole body to you, brows deeply furrowed like a cartoon character. “What?”

You cover your face with a pillow, successfully hiding your tears, “I’m calling Cindy to tell her I don’t want to do it anymore, I quit.”

“Woah, wait, why?” He takes the pillow from you to see your face, “Y/n, calm down, what’s going on? Tell me what happened.”

“I- I didn’t make the national team, that was my only chance until next year. All my hard work went down the drain and everyone saw me screw up..” You wipe your tears with your sleeve.

“Hey, it’s okay, you cry if you need to,” He pulls you into a hug, cradling your head to his chest, “I know this is tough for you but it’s not the end of the world, it’ll get better.”

You pull away from him as if he were suddenly hot to the touch and bury your face into the arm of the couch. “You wouldn’t understand, the pique of my career was riding on this, and I blew it. It feels like the end of my world, okay?” 

You know your words are muffled by the couch, that’s probably for the better anyway. “T- that’s just how I feel...” 

He doesn’t pry any further after that. He knows there’s not much he can say to change your mind right now. Instead, he scoots closer to your side and places a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he waits for you to continue.

“I have nothing if I lose this, there’s all this pressure on my shoulders and its tearing me apart...” You turn to wipe your face and sit up. “I love skating, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do...if I stop, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You’ll never forget that night. 

He lifted you into his lap and kept his arms tight around you. “You’re so much more than just your skating. You’re so good at but it’s not all that you are.” Jungkook has a way of talking you off of the edge but that night, you were especially down on yourself.

“Yes it is...” 

“No it’s not,” He sighs, “look, I know what it feels like to find your identity in something and then all of a sudden, that something is gone...When my portfolio got rejected, I felt like a failure. My family never got behind the boxing thing, so I’ve always tried to find another way to support myself just in case for whatever reason it doesn’t work out...I didn’t start realizing that until recently. I’m constantly torn between giving up one dream for the other but I want to do both, you actually inspire me to do both.” You furrow your brows, briefly abandoning your own issues to listen to him. 

“You work so hard and you’re showing your family that you can do this, you just have to believe in yourself, and you know what? You’re doing amazing. Tonight was just a bad night, it happens.” He squeezes you tight and you do the same, arms fastened around his neck as if it would kill you to let go.

You didn’t need to say anything after that. You settled your mind and you were no longer at the edge, you were still close, but not there. With your head resting over his shoulder, you try to peek over the couch to see what he dropped back there when he walked in.

“Hey, what’d you think you’re doing?” Jungkook leans forward and your grip around him is loosened so you can no longer look back there. “You think I got something for you?”

You look down a bit embarrassed that he caught you, “Well, yeah...you did,  didn’t you?” You smile for the first time tonight and he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally.

He was going to tease you for wanting your gifts even though you just had a meltdown. But how could he? He wants to keep this smile on your face for as long as possible.

“Sit,” He lifts you off his lip and back to your previous seat on the couch, “no peeking.”

You hold your hands over your eyes, excited even thought have no idea what it might be.

“Okay, open.”

When you move your hands to see you squeal in excitement. “Oh, Jungkook! It’s so cute!” You stand up to take the pink bunny that’s almost more than half your size. “Thank you,” You lean into him with the bunny between you two, “it’s so big and soft, like you.”

“Yeah I know,” He sways from side-to-side with you in his arms, “you feeling better?”

You muffle your sigh into the stuffed animal, “I still wanna quit.”

“Oh stop,” He pulls the from your grip and tosses it onto the couch, “you’re just being bratty now,”

“No I’m not,” You whine, the issue still very fresh, “I’m still sad...I just really like my gift and I’m happy to see you...But I am still upset.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” He lays on the couch and beckons you into his arms to lay on his chest, “let’s cuddle you until you feel better then, will that help?” 

“Maybe...”  

You’d be lying if you said you could live without that side of him.

*

A few days later, you’re surprised you hadn’t heard from him. But when you get back from the gym with a missed call from him and a solemn text to  ‘call back when you can’, you actually call him back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Thank you for calling me back.” 

His voice sounds relaxed but a bit anxious.

“Did you need something?” You sigh, pouring your boiling water in your mug.

“Are you free to go with me somewhere at 11? And then maybe, we could grab dinner? Just-...Don’t be mad, please.”

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I signed us up for couples therapy.”

“You did what?” Somewhere in your mind, you had wanted him to bring this up—you never imagined that he actually would.

”You said we don’t know how to work on ourselves together, I read that therapy helps with that. Will you go with me? If you don’t like it, you never have to do it again I swear.”

“Jungkook...I appreciate the effort, I really do, but how did you find this therapist? Do you trust them?”

”Of course. He has great reviews online and my-...Well, my mom found him actually.”

You pause, a bit taken aback. He talked to his mom about your relationship and he took her advice about seeing a therapist? He must have really taken your words to heart about getting help.

“Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in 20.”

When he picked you up, you were reminded just how well he could clean up. Sure, he always dresses so well and smells amazing, but he’s different today—you can tell he put in a lot of effort. You’re glad you decided to do your makeup and where a nice sundress, you would have felt terribly under-dressed.

“Hi, how can I help you?

“Hi, we have an appointment for Jeon at 5, with Seojoon.”

You stand next to Jungkook at the front desk, your hands tightly clutching your purse. It’s hard to not think the woman is judging you and Jungkook for being here. She’s probably seen hundreds of people come into this office but something in you can’t shake the feeling. She directs you two to the waiting room and says he’ll come get you two in a few minutes.

“So,” You begin, glancing at Jungkook, “I’m nervous...” 

“Me too.” This is new for the both of you. In only a few seconds, who you assume to be Seojoon emerges from the hallway and you look at him a bit wide-eyed. 

“Hi, Jungkook, Y/n, are you two ready?” 

“Oh, um, yes.” You stand up in sync with Jungkook, already wanting to run out of here but you resist.

You have to admit that the office is really nice, not stiff and sterile looking, the energy is very calming. Seojoon opens the door to a cozy-looking room with tons of natural sun light. There’s warm-rose colored couch that you assume is for ‘the couple.’

“Alright, you can take a seat right there, make yourselves comfortable.” He smiles, taking a seat and you two do the same.

“So let’s get right into it. What brought you two here today? If you could both tell me your separate answers, that would be great.” Despite Seojoon looking at you directly to presumably go first, you divert your eyes and look at Jungkook to say something first.

“Well, we’re- I think we’re going through a lot right now and I just want to save our relationship.” Jungkook sits back, resting against the arm of the couch as he gazes at you to give your answer.

“What about you, Y/n?”

You glance down at your lap, feeling very out of your comfort zone and not confident enough to verbalize what you would like to say. Alas, you try.

“I feel the same way, we’re not in a good place and I’m confused about what to do-...I just want what we used to have.” You confess a bit of your true feelings but ignore the longing look Jungkook gives you.

“When did you start feeling like the relationship was changing?”

“Fairly recently. We were fine, at least I thought we were until I saw him with another girl back in an old lifestyle that I thought he gave up...”

Seojoon diverts his attention away from you and to Jungkook. “Jungkook, do you want to share a little bit about that?”

“Not really,” He answers honestly at least.

“Why not?”

“To be honest, I don’t know why she keeps throwing the same jab at me. I’ve told her the truth but she doesn’t want to hear it. I went out that night,” He almost glares at you, “I didn’t plan to. I ran into an old friend and I just-...I thought it was harmless and I got caught up...” 

Seojoon scribbles something down. “Okay, so can you fill me in a little bit. Are we talking about unfaithfulness? Addiction?”

“Unfaithfulness,” You interject. “he said he didn’t cheat on me but...” You mumble, your confidence faltering for some reason. “It’s hard to believe that.”

“But you think he did so you have some distrust. Were you unfaithful, Jungkook?”

“It doesn’t matter if I say I did or I didn’t, she thinks I did.” He shrugs.

”Y/n,” Seojoon puts an end to the death stare you had on Jungkook, “can you tell Jungkook what cheating looks like to you?”

”Not sleeping with her doesn’t mean you didn’t cheat on me. Letting her put her hands on you- And I don’t care if it was just a kiss! You shouldn’t have been in that situation, and for me to have to see it on social media? I could have killed you I was so mad. You should ask Jungkook what cheating is to him. We obviously have different standards for defining it...”

”What does cheating look like to you, Jungkook?” He heeds your suggestion without any push-back.

”To me,” He hesitates, feeling a bit scrutinized, “it’s when a person violates the intimacy of the relationship by giving it to someone else.”

“What kind of intimacy?”

“Emotional, physical, every kind,” He turns to you, “I wouldn’t do thingst that I do with Y/n with anyone else, not by choice-”

“Yes you would! You did...Are you trying to tell me that you were assaulted? That she forced her way on you?”

“I was blitzed! I don’t fucking know. All I do know is that she got on top of me and I pushed her off. That’s it. I swear, if anything else happened, I don’t remember it.”

“I don’t care. You know what I’ve been through, to even allow another girl to even get close to touching you like that...It was a slap in the face.”

Seojoon’s ears perk up at the mention of your past. “Did you have to go through a similar situation in a previous relationship?” 

“Yes and he knows this. I was being cheated on before and the guy had a literal baby on the way throughout our entire relationship...It was traumatizing.” It stings his ears to hear you say that. But it’s true, he knows your past and he didn’t let it stop him. 

“What happened must have triggered you,” You nod to yourself, “but you’re here to try to work through forgiveness and build trust. If you two are comfortable with it, I’d like you do do two exercises; one here and one when you’re alone. The first one that you’ll do here, I need you to face each other, preferably close, and I have some questions for you two to ask each other.”

“Like this?” Jungkook answers instantly and turns to you, getting closer to you than he has in weeks. You face him slowly, eyes wavering a bit. His face has always been a soft-spot for you, staring at him makes you feel weak.

“Actually,” Seojoon stands up, gesturing for you to do the same, “two chairs might be more comfortable, yeah? Let’s go to my other room.”

You follow Seojoon to a small room with three chairs a small table in front of them. Jungkooks pulls seat out so they’re facing each other. When you look up to acknowledge him with deliberate eye-contact, for a moment he thinks you might be softening. 

“I want you all to start with ‘I’ statements, tell your partner how you feel or how you felt in this case. Try to maintain eye-contact and truly listen to each other.”

“I’ll go first,” You volunteer because you want to get this over with.

“I feel alone and helpless when you go back to your old habits, I feel like you’re hiding things from me...” You find a way to keep your eyes-locked to his. 

“I’m not asking you to be perfect but I just want you to make me feel special to you...Like you wouldn’t dream of being with someone else. Because I don’t think of loving anyone else, and trust me I’ve tried to imagine it but I can’t,” You bite your cheek to keep from crying, “you make it so hard to trust you. You don’t listen and you don’t change until it’s too late.” 

Being emotionally inept is something you are both too good at. It’s difficult for you to share your true feelings with a clear mind, but when you do, you can never guess what will happen next. 

“I feel trapped by you. I know I fucked everything up, okay? You don’t have to keep reminding me.” His tone is harsher than you anticipated. 

“I’m trying to put in the fucking effort to help us, and I’m giving you time. But when you tell me you still want me but you won’t even let me come around, it’s confusing. You’re confusing, that’s just how I feel.” His brows furrow and you notice Seojoon watches the exchange intently.

“But I miss you and I want you back, I don’t want to take a break,” He leans forward with his hands firmly gripping your knees over your dress, “I know you think I’m an asshole but I try to change, I’m trying, you know I wouldn't bring you to this if I could think of any other way to prove that to you.” The strain in his voice only stirs more emotions inside of you. 

“Jungkook,” Seojoon calls his name softly and Jungkook looks over as if he forgot he was there, “try not to engage in any physical, okay? It can be overwhelming.”

“Sorry,” He takes his hands from you and sits back, “that’s all I want to say.” 

“Alright, well, um,” Seojoon clears his throat, eager to break the tension up a little bit, “unfortunately our session is up but I want to give you two a list of exercises and talking points. I know this was a consultation appointment but I want to give you some things to work on at home. I’ll have Kelly type up your homework, alright?”

“Okay, thank you,” you both thank the therapist but you get up with an urgency and leave the room before Jungkook can follow you. When you make it out to the waiting room, you spot the bathroom and you bolt to it. Before you have to spend a car ride with him, you need to get your emotions together. 

“Mr. Jeon,” The receptionist calls him from the hall, “this is for you, you can bring it back to the next appointment for a discount.” Jungkook halfheartedly thanks her before going to the car. He doesn’t even know if there will be another session. He needs to smoke before you come out and you’ll freak if he smokes while you’re in the car. 

“Why did I come here...” You look at the mirror and frown, you look so rough. It was nice to get everything out in the open but you knew he’d get intense eventually. Only when the toilet flushed did you remember that there were multiple stalls in here. When you look away from the mirror to fumble through your purse, just trying to avoid talking to her. 

”Hi, how are you?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“Oh god, nervous, I’m nervous. Me and my husband, we’re newly weds, our appointment is in five minutes and I really don’t know what to expect. Did you have an appointment with your partner?”

“I did,” You sigh, “it was-...It was fine, don’t be nervous.” In your attempt to comfort her, you find your self in a highly hypocritical position. “Me and my boyfriend, we’re different so ours was a little- A little chaotic but I think it helped a little,” You hesitate, “I don’t know.”

“That makes me feel a little better, hopefully my husband behaves himself,” She tosses her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and smiles, “well, it was nice meeting you.”

It takes you a moment but you gather the strength to wave goodbye and go face your boyfriend.

”Excuse me, Miss, I think your husband forgot to grab this.” The receptionist waves you over and hands you a little folder.

”Oh,” You try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.  he’s not my- We’re not married.” 

”Oh, I’m sorry! He only put his last name on the appointment so I thought it was your name as well. Sorry about that, have a great rest of your day.” She bids you farewell with a flustered smile.

When you walk outside, you see Jungkook leaning against the car. You thought he might’ve been smoking but you can’t detect any small. That’s a relief.

”You feeling okay?” He questions gently. 

You nod, hopping in the car with the desire to be home already. He gets in the car and glances at you from the corner of his eye, he worries that this might have been too much for you. 

“Where do you want to eat?” 

“There’s a ramen place down the street, that’s fine with me.” You suggest, eyes trained on your phone.

The air in the car isn’t tense or stiff, its just quiet. There’s a lot to unpack from the session and you figured Jungkook was thinking through it too. That’s why when you two arrived at the ramen shop, took your seats, and placed your orders, the silence was getting to be a bit too awkward for you.

“I like the new hair, you’ve never gone this blonde before,” You glance up at him, trying to start a conversation, “it looks good.”

“Thanks, it was an impulsive thing. I heard you decided to get back into pairs,” He brings the coke to his lips, “I was surprised to hear that.”

“Oh, yeah,” You figured he would find out soon, “I’m back with Lucas for the season.”

“Good for you,” That’s not a reaction you were expecting from anti-pairs-skating Jungkook. Then again, you know him well enough to know that he’s probably keeping his true opinion to himself.

“The receptionist gave this to me,” You pull the paper out of your purse and show it to him, “I think it has additional information.”

“Let me see,” You hand it to him, “hm, soul-gazing? What the hell is that...” He reads over the description and it makes him giggle. “Nonverbal communication between lovers, allows couples to explore intimate places in the relationship. We do this already, but it’s a little more than eye contact,” He recalls those dreamy moments that he used to share with you so often, gazing at you with a smile.

“We can try that later maybe,” You avoid his smile with a glance out the window.

“Okay. So, about the session today, I hope you understood where I was coming from...I didn’t expect to say all that, I’m sorry if it was too much.”

“Don’t apologize, I wanted to hear how you felt.”

“I’m sorry,” He extends a hand out on the table, hoping you’ll take it, “I’ve thought about what I’ve done and I’ve tried to repent for it. But at the end of the day, it’s up to you. But just tell this once, you miss us, don’t you?”

“I do, Jungkook...It’s just, I’m in a tough spot and I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint anyone or myself.”

“You’re talking about your friends or your family?” He frowns at the thought of either party trying to discourage you.

“My family doesn’t know anything about this, it’s my friends who are concerned for me. They saw me get hurt and they don’t want to see it happen again, they want me to be happy.”

“Don’t listen to them, all they do is talk shit about me and try to tell you what you need. The only people who have a say in this relationship is you and me. We choose what makes us happy, not them.”

“But I’m not happy,” And it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still being judged, “I’ve actually been depressed when I think about us, when I think about what we used to have and what we have now, how did this happen?”

“I’m sorry I did this to you,” He sighs when you finally reach out to take his hand, “I never mean to hurt you,”

“I want you back so bad sometimes,” You break, letting your true feelings out to him, “but just because I want it doesn’t mean I should, it’s always been hard for me to separate the two.”

“That never stopped you before,” He flashes that smile, the one you fell so hard for on the roof of his car. 

“Now look where I’m at,” You take your hand back, “going to therapy with you.”

*

*

Jungkook took you home and sunset had passed, it was already dark. You found yourself inviting him in, hugging him longer than you should have when he was on his way out. Why were you holding on to him so tight? His bomber jacket lands on the floor and you relish in his arms, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it won’t hurt to let him in, indulge. It doesn’t take long before you let him kiss you for the first time in weeks. It feels new, it can happen a thousand times and it’ll always feel new. 

But then your phone begins to ring and reality washes over you like a cold shower.

“Wait,” You pull away from the kiss and slide off of the counter to his dismay, “I need to get that-”

“Ignore it,” Jungkook cups your jaw, trying to persuade you with longing eyes, “please ignore it-”

“I can’t, it’s my mom, something might be wrong,” You quickly answer the phone and walk into the living room. “Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home, is something wrong?”

“You forgot, didn’t you? Your brother Leo, you were supposed to pick him up so he could stay with you for the night. me and your dad had to take Milo to his Taekwondo tournament for the weekend.” Your mother stresses over the phone.

“I’m so sorry! Mom, seriously, I totally forgot,” This is the worst possible timing, “doesn’t Leo have his license, he can drive here, can’t he?”

“We have the car. Don’t worry about it, it’s handled now, his friend came by and he’s staying with him.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how that crossed my mind,” You can’t help but feel as if you’ve disappointed her by forgetting such a simple thing, “I’ve been busy, I’m prepping for the next season, I’m working and in school, it’s a lot right now-”

The conversation  ends with a cold lecture from her and a solemn goodbye when she hangs up. You massage your temples, and look at Jungkook who’s coping with the best part of his day being ruined by a phone call.

“Everything okay?”

“I forgot to pick up my brother, my mom asked if he could crash here but I forgot all about it..”

“When have any of your siblings actually visited you? Except for your sister when she needs a babysitter.” Jungkook always sports a defensive tone when your family comes into the conversation.

“He’s only come over a few times. But he has friends who live over here so that’s normally why,” You take a deep breath. “She sounded frustrated so I know she’s upset.”

”Don’t stress about that,” He comes in close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “your mom shouldn’t beat you up about that, especially since she knows how much you have on your plate.” He smooths down your hair and kisses your forehead gently. That innocent forehead kiss quickly migrated down to your neck and you bite your tongue.

”Jungkook, please,” You get out of his embrace and leave him longing.

"Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you, this isn’t like you. You push me away but never for this long,” He follows you to your bedroom where you kick off your shoes and take off you cardigan. ”If you’re serious about making this work again, you’ve gotta help me out a little here.” 

You feel him looming behind you, so close that you feel the warmth of him on your lower-back, or is that his hand?

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m being really nice right now,” You step away from him, “but you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” He feigns ignorance.

“If that’s what you were hoping for you should just go,” You pick up his jacket and hand it to him, “it’s not happening.”

“Ok, but do you mind if I stay the night?” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, debating whether or not that’s a good idea.

“Why? It’s not even that late yet.”

“I don’t want to make the drive home, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He pleads, those big round eyes helping his case immensely.

“Fine. But you’re on the couch,” He looks a bit disappointed but he was expecting that, “I’m gonna shower, you can wait for me or use the guest bathroom if you want.”

With that, you walk off into your bedroom to get your clothes and then into the bathroom in the hall. Though you hesitated to let him stay, it’s really not a big deal now that you think of it. He’s stayed over more times than you can count so you feel no need to punish him by saying no.

Baby steps. 

Jungkook falls into the couch, relieved and anxious—but mostly relieved. He was sure you were going to throw him out. When he hears the shower turn on, he begins to wonder what you might be thinking about, do you want him the way he wants you right now? If so, you’re hiding it pretty well. Just being in your home makes him feel comfortable and happy, that and your presence. You’ll be a while in the shower so he figures a few moments of relaxation on the balcony won’t hurt. 

*

When you step out of the steamy bathroom, you hug your robe tightly to your body. Curious to see what he’s doing you peek out of the hall and see him on the balcony, shirt nowhere to be seen and smoke wafting from the little stick in his finger. Jungkook has always been a temptation, a forbidden fruit so to speak. You had one bite, and that’s all it took. 

It’s a warm night, that’s probably why he’s showing all of the neighbors his tattooed glory, you giggle to your self at the thought. You run to your room to slip a t-shirt and shorts on so you can join him, you can indulge him in conversation at least.

“Hey, I was going to get a snack,” You open the sliding door and he looks back at you as he exhales a a cloud, “are you hungry?”

“I’m okay,” He puts it out in the ashtray, “thanks,” 

“You didn’t have to put it out for me,” You step onto the patio and close the door behind you.

“I was done anyway,” He says that but he clearly wasn’t, he’s just being sweet, “how was your shower?”

“Good,” You sit beside him, “you can go ahead and shower if you want to, you know where your clothes are.”

“I will in a minute,” He looks out, enjoying the view of the city, “it’s beautiful out here...”

“Yeah,” You smile, reminiscing on the many moments you two have shared together on the balcony.

“So,” Jungkook sighs, probably reminiscing on the same thing, “do you want to do that exercise?...”

“Exercise?- Oh, the eye-contact thing, we can...” You turn to him and he does the same, “so, do we-”

“Shh,” He holds a finger to his lips, “we’re not supposed to talk,” 

You swallow, eyes locked on his and his on yours. His eyes are so dreamy and mesmerizing, they always have been. This eye-contact is giving you a great excuse to analyze his face. The little mole under his lip, his cute nose and cheeks—you’re trying not to look at his body but it’s hard to do that right now. 

He’s doing the same thing to you. Your eyes, nose, lips, he’s just taking it all in as if your a sculpture at a museum. Looking at each other like this reminds you both to see each other, to really see the human you both decided to love.

“Jungkook,” You know you’re not supposed to talk, “don’t cry...” You thumb the tears away from his cheeks, your motherly habits kicking in.

“Shit,” He wipes his cheeks, “I don’t know why I’m crying, I just-...I really love you, like, just staring at you really fucks me up.” He’s so emotional, it’s more endearing than anything.

You cup his jaw and kiss the apple of his cheek, then his lips. His hands are almost shaky when he reaches up to hold your face, you lead his hand to your face to let him know that you don’t mind.

“I love you too,” You breath, your head in the nape of his neck, “but I can’t do this, I shouldn’t...”

Once you realize you’re no longer in your own chair but in his, it’s too late to pretend you’re not equally as desperate. It escalates and the best and worst happens. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 73

Title: Best Laid Plans

Warnings: some profanity, talk of domestic abuse, child death

Tagging:  @tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother, @lokitrasho, @miss-smutty,  @raith-way​, @ocappreciation​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/85024549

He’s up at quarter to six; throwing on a muscle shirt and a pair of work out pants and slipping into the well worn sneakers he keeps by the back door. A run on the beach as the sun peeks over the horizon is exactly what he needs; his bad knees cushioned by sand beneath him, a steady, cool breeze blowing in off the ocean, and the sky painted in vivid orange and gold and stunning pink streaks. The two dogs run on either side of him; their tags clinking against their collars, each carrying a tennis ball in their mouths in hopes of play after the hard work is done. The excursion to his body is calming to both brain and soul; pushing all thoughts of Mark and his devious intentions onto the back burner and concentrating on nothing but his breathing and his heart rate and the sights and sounds around him. And once at the finish line, he bends at the waist and places his hands on his thighs; eyes closed as the sweat trickles off his forehead and runs down his nose and his temples and gathers at the nape of his neck. Chest heaving and burning; a familiar discomfort that serves to remind him of just how far he’s come. Fighting against the odds to complete the long and painful recovery after the incident with Nathan and coming out almost as good as he was before; strong, agile, his health better than it's ever been. He’d somehow survived and he’d long ago swore he'd never take another minute for granted; always grateful to wake up and find himself on top of the ground instead of below it.

After a half an hour of entertaining the dogs, he returns home; splashing cold water on his face and neck and running wet hands through his sweaty hair and then heading for the kitchen. Busying himself with the morning routine; brewing his coffee and the three shots of espresso he always adds to it. The smoothies are next; a wide selection of fresh fruit and various supplements and vitamins recommended by both his doctor and Esme’s fetal and maternal medicine specialist. And the moment he hears her footsteps above -small and light, but just heavy enough to NOT be a child- he begins preparing her breakfast; kettle boiling for her tea while he throws a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and gathers up a container of plain yogurt and a handful of different fruits to chop. He glances over his shoulder and smiles in greeting when she joins him; messy hair held away from her face and out of her eyes with a sparkly purple headband stolen from one of their daughters and her tiny frame clad in a pair of baggy Hello Kitty night shorts and one of his t-shirts. And before he can open his mouth to offer up a ‘good morning’, she’s wrapping her around his waist from behind; yawning loudly and rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his shirt before laying her head against his back.

“Babe…” he warns. “ I probably stink. Gonna make you pass out. Give the baby in utero PTSD.”

“Bullshit. You smell good. You smell like a man. MY man. “

“All the kids still asleep?”

Esme nods. “You already went for a run?”

“Just a small one. Took the dogs with me. Tired them out.”

“I thought you said Sunday was your ‘set in stone rest day’?

“I did. But that’s just for lifting heavy.” Turning around to face her, he takes her face in his hands, turning her head up towards him as he leans down to kiss her. “I’m still going to run every day.”

“You know how I feel about this; when it comes to you pushing yourself too hard.”

“I know you worry. I know you don’t blow out my knee or fuck my femur up somehow. I’m taking it easy; I’m not going full tilt and I’m not ignoring my body when it starts screaming at me. I’m doing a lot better; when it comes to recognizing the signs and paying attention to them.”

“I just want you to be careful. I don’t want you hurting yourself. And you've been spending a lot of time in the gym. You went from one three hour a work out a day to TWO. That’s a lot, babe. Even for a bad ass like you. I know you feel this need to be bigger and stronger and…”

“I’m past that. Maybe just looking to put on another ten. That’s it. That’s probably as big as I’ll ever get again. Sorry. No return to the thicc, lumberjack stage that you enjoyed so much.”

“I DID enjoy it. You had the big muscles and the extra weight in your tummy and your hair was short and your beard was really thick. It was a good look on you. A VERY good look.”

“But…”

“But I love you EVERY way. And how your body is right now? That’s how you looked when we met. When I fell in love with you. So it tends to be my favourite. It’s very sentimental to me. And you know what would make it even MORE sentimental?”

“If you want me to get the haircut, I’ll get the haircut.”

“You would do that for little old me? You’d do that to keep your pregnant and extremely hormonal wife happy?”

“I would do anything for you. Pregnant or not.”

“Best husband ever,” she declares, and stands on her tip toes as he kisses her once more; hands tightly grasping the sides of his t-shirt.

She’d long ago gotten used to that ‘after work out’ stench; the potent tang of sweat , the lingering remains of laundry detergent, and the cool, brisk, freshness of antiperspirant. It’s HIS smell. One that reminds her of safety and protection and love. Of HOME. When he’s away, it’s those combined, familiar scents that offer comfort; bringing solace to her aching heart and effectively relieving at least some of the fear and worry nagging at her. Sleeping with his pillow every night and often wearing one of his t-shirts or bundling herself up in one of his hoodies; soothed by the smell of him clinging to the sheets and clothes and subduing her rattled nerves just enough for her to fall asleep.

It never gets easier; kissing him goodbye at the front door or the airport and then wondering -as he walks away- if she’ll ever see him again. The job isn’t a life you ever really get used to; lying to yourself when you tell others that you’re completely fine with your husband being thousands of miles away, putting his life on the line in the hopes of saving another. But she copes; knowing he can more than handle himself when it comes to the physical aspect and that he’ll do whatever it takes to get back to her and the kids. But the ache is real when he’s not under the same roof; both her and their brood feeling his absence and both saddened and angered about it. And the worry and fear never disappear; feeling as if she’s holding her breath the entire time, never releasing it until the moment he walks back through the front door. Safe and sound.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he turns towards the counter once more; snagging a knife from the butcher’s block and preparing the only breakfast her stomach has been able to handle. Dry toast accompanied by chunks of fresh fruit, a smoothie containing all the vitamins and supplements recommended by her doctor, and a tea that helps with calming both her tummy and her nerves. While the nausea lingers throughout the entire day, the mornings have been especially horrendous; unable to keep even the smallest sips of water down and struggling with both weakness and dizziness. All of the pregnancies have been the same in that respect; losing weight before actually managing to put it on, suffering from headaches and queasiness and even a handful of scares that sent them running to the hospital in fear there was something terribly wrong. But the sixth pregnancy is turning out to be an even bigger struggle; half a dozen different medications fighting to keep her blood pressure down, help her sleep, and keep her eating and drinking properly.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Tyler remarks, as she moves to the stove to tend to the boiling kettle. Offering a mug with the tea bag already in it; his hand briefly resting on the small of her back as he places a kiss on her temple. “You were sleeping pretty good when I went on my run.”

Sighing, she sets the mug down on the stovetop and fills it with water. “I probably still would be if your spawn didn’t wake me up out of nowhere and send me on a mad dash to the bathroom. I’ve come to expect SOME sickness, but this?”

“This one’s giving you an extra hard time, huh? What did the doctor say? Something about making too much human growth hormone? I don’t know. She completely lost me when she broke out the science speak.”

“A variant of it. And it’s too much of ALL the hormones. Kind of weird; that the last pregnancy would be the worst. You’d think it would be the easiest; your body totally used to everything, able to push that sucker out with only two tries. I swear to Christ, Tyler. If this is another Millie labour…”

“You’ll cut my dick off?”

“That’s a little extreme. You need your dick. It’s still very useful. I’ll just chop your balls off. So you can’t make any more swimmers.”

“How about we not do that and just let the surgeon handle things?”

“I want a goddamn guarantee from him that this isn’t going to happen again; your penis remarkably healing itself and letting those swimmers of yours have free reign.”

“I’m going to jump in here for a second. You realize your body fucked up too, yeah? That it took BOTH of us to make this baby? Your tubes were tied. Right after you had Kota and Brookie. You’re not supposed to be able to get pregnant in the first place.”

She stares at him over the rim of her mug. “Even if I hadn’t gotten them tied, you weren’t supposed to be able to produce any sperm. Ever again. For the rest of your natural born life. But low and behold…”

“You…” He points the knife at her. “...need to accept some responsibility in all of this.”

She huffs, taking a sip of tea and then setting it on the stove; hands on her hips in a show of defiance. “I will do no such thing.”

“Come on, this can’t all be pinned entirely on me. Both our bodies had to screw up for this to happen. So be a big girl…” snagging her by the front of her t-shirt, he gently pulls her into him. “...and take some of the blame.”

She stares up at him; a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth and those enormous, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. “No. You can’t make me.”

“Listen pocket wife, I’m a foot and three inches taller than you and almost a hundred pounds heavier. I can make you.”

“I’d like to see you try. You don’t intimidate me. Your muscles and your resting asshole face and all those tattoos and scars. They don’t scare me a bit.”

“You realize I have ways of convincing you, don’t you? Ways that don’t involve intimidation. “

“Yeah?” Both hands clutch the front of her shirt as her body leans into his. “What kind of ways are we talking about then?”

He swipes the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. “Sexual ones.”

“You realize that sounds more like pleasure than punishment, right?”

“You remember that thing we did back in New York City. In the bathtub. The thing you claim to hate but always seem to love? The one thing that I always can count on to make you squirt? Do you know what thing I’m talking about?”

“I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about.”

“Well next time around, when you least expect it? I’m going to do that twice as much. Only this time there won’t be a happy ending. For you, anyway.”

Her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes. Yes I would.”

“You’re evil.”

“Most evil husband out there.”

“You may be the most evil, but you’re also the sexiest out there. So at least you have THAT going for you,” she chides, giving a tiny yelp when he brings a palm down on the cheek of her ass in a ringing slap. Giggling when his hand reverts to lightly pinching and squeezing before drawing her into him; body pressed against his and her hands tightening their grip on his shirt as he leans down to kiss her. Long and slow and deep; the brief contact between their tongues finding her curling her toes and sighing into his mouth.

When he pulls away he’s smiling down at her; blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of unbridled lust and pure adoration. Hand moving from her ass to the side of her cheek; knuckles grazing over the soft skin before gentle fingertips clear wayward strands of hair away from her face and tuck them behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

“You need glasses.”

“I already knew that. But needing them doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

The smile she gives is shaky; tears welling in her eyes as a lump of emotion wedges firmly in her throat. It’s overwhelming at times; seeing his love, adoration, and affection laid so bare. This big, strong man with his myriad of tattoos and scars and a lifetime of trauma, guilt, and regret. So brave and fearless yet so vulnerable at the same time; possessing a heart that he’s even bigger than his body and a beauty to his soul that not even his father, Asif, Mahajan, or Nathan had been able to rob him of. Working as a team, she’d spent years helping chip away at the seemingly impenetrable walls that he’d built around his heart; patiently urging him outside of his comfort zone and encouraging that humanity lingering inside of him to make itself fully known. In the end, the reward was far beyond anything she could ever imagined; a man that loves her so wholly and completely. And profoundly. So much so it often takes her breath away; and all consuming and often leaving her feeling unworthy of such devotion.

He frowns when he notices the tears in her eyes and the tell tale wobble of her lower lip and chin. “What’s the matter? Why are you gonna cry? What…?”

Her voice comes out as a childlike whimper; reminding him of Addie when she’s been scolded or has had a particularly rough run in with Millie and the teasing was just too much to take. “I really need a hug right now.”

Setting the knife on the counter, he gathers her in his arms. One arm circling her waist as a hand settles on the back of her skull; palm lightly pressing her head into his chest. And when she stands on the top of his feet and perches on her tiptoes in order to return the embrace, he crouches down until she’s able to successfully wrap both arms around his neck. His beautiful, tiny wife; his best friend, truest confident, and his rock during his darkest and most dire of times. Always sticking by his side no matter how difficult he sometimes makes things; forever patient and attentive during the long and painful recovery after Nathan, always forgiving him for his sins and mistakes even when he can’t forgive himself. Suddenly seeming so weak and vulnerable herself; her entire body trembling and her tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he promises, and presses a kiss to her ear. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s ALL gonna be okay.”

*****

He hates seeing her like this; face lined with worry and exhaustion, shoulders drooped as if carrying the weight of the world upon them, eyes dark and downcast instead of sparkling and playful. He’d long ago gotten used to her morning persona; overly cheerful and extremely talkative compared to his grumpiness and need for complete and utter silence until he’s at least finished his coffee. So it’s unsettling when she deviates from the norm; missing the familiarity and the routine of her chattiness and her teasing and witty banter. Instead completely silent as she sits across from him at the table on the back deck; her feet resting in his lap as she merely nibbles at the dry toast and moves the pieces of various fruits around on her plate.

He gestures at her plate with his fork. “You need to eat. Start putting weight on instead of it dropping off.”

“It’s not like I’m NOT trying.” She spears a chunk of watermelon and brings it to her lips, taking a tiny bite before setting it back down again. “I WANT to eat. My body is BEGGING me to eat. But it’s kind of hard when you just feel...I don’t know...off.”

“Something we need to worry about? Something to do with the baby?”

“No. I feel fine that way. Other than being crazy nauseous and already having insane heartburn. How much hair is this kid going to have? Because the only other time I suffered this bad…”

“We ended up with Addie. Hairiest damn kid I have EVER seen. Hands down.”

She manages a smile, then nibbles at a slice of dry toast. “Remember how it was practically head to toe? Because she was a preemie?”

“She looked like a little monkey. A cute one, mind you. But a monkey.”

“Don’t ever say that to her. It’ll be her new obsession; monkey this, monkey that. None of our other babies had much hair. If any at all. Well, Declan…”

“I will never forget seeing that head of hair. Bright red.”

“You looked so confused,” Esme muses, as she once more pulls her plate towards her and attempts to eat. “When he was crowning. It was like he had two heads or something.”

Tyler winks at her from across the table. “I was trying to figure out when you had time to get busy with me AND the cable guy.”

“Baby, he is all yours. Without a doubt. The cable man didn’t stand a chance getting close to me. So unless you can get pregnant just by breathing the same air as someone…”

“I hope you’d have better standards than that guy. If you’re going to do something like that, can you at least have the respect to go a notch higher than I am in quality?”

“That’s not even remotely possible. You’re already on the very top rung of quality. In fact, you’re in another league all your own. All by yourself. If you have the best, why settle for less?”

A grin plays on his mouth. “You are so good for my ego.”

“Besides, we both know I’m the last person that would EVER do something like that. I am way too hopelessly and madly and wildly in love with you. Always have been. Always will be. So unless you’re planning on going somewhere, you’re stuck with me. For the long haul.”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am. And with who I’m with. You know that, yeah? That I’d never do something like that. No matter who’s trying to get with me? I would never...EVER..cheat on you.”

“This is stemming from my insecurities, isn't it? Those women yesterday.”

“I just wanted to get it out there. I don’t care about any of them. There might as well not even be any other women on earth. The only one that matters? The only one I want? Is you. And that’s not going to change.”

“And you say I’m good for YOUR ego?”

“I mean, maybe it doesn’t need to be said. Maybe you already realize all that. Or maybe you’re going to tell me that you don’t need the words; you can see everything in my eyes anyway. I just think sometimes I should say it. Who knows, maybe I need to tell you more than you need to hear it.”

Well…” She reaches for his hand that rests on the tabletop, running her fingertips along his forearm and over his palm before lacing their fingers together. “...a girl DOES like to hear how much she’s adored and worshipped.”

“I thought you like it better when I SHOW you how much.”

“That too. But sometimes it’s a nice little bonus; hearing the words.”

Pushing his chair away, he stands and leans across the table; free hand reaching out to cradle her cheek in its palm. “I worship you. I adore you. I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

While tears sparkle in her eyes, her smile is genuine; filling out her cheeks and crinkling the bridge of her nose. “And you say you’re not romantic.”

He bends down to kiss her; the soft press and languid movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. “I do have my moments,” he says with a grin, running the tip of a finger down the bridge of her nose, playfully tapping the end of it before returning to his seat.

They sit in companionable silence. Enjoying the crisp, refreshing breeze that rolls in off the ocean and the familiar yet calming sounds of the outdoors. The waves rolling up onto the shore, the rustling of the trees as they sway in the wind and the different melodies that come from Esme’s collection of wind chimes attached to the awnings of the pool house. It’s home. The familiar yet never boring sights and sounds of the where they’re the most comfortable; where they grow and nurture their family and take advantage of the many spoils given to them by such a beautiful and expansive piece of land.

Returning to Australia had been the best move they’d ever made. The start of strengthening not only their marriage, but every aspect of the life and relationship they share; making sure to nurture and grow each separate component that makes them, THEM. Often having to pull back from the chaos and stress of everyday existence to remind themselves that they’re not just spouses and people raising kids together; they’re each other’s confidants, best friends and devoted and faithful lovers. Two unique individuals that share a bond unlike many could ever fully understand; broken and in tatters when they’d first met yet somehow managing to comfort and heal one another. What had happened in Dhaka will forever remain the foundation their life together has been built open. A rather odd concoction of many things; shared grief and regret, adrenaline and fear, profound lust accompanied by the pangs of the heart that remind you that you’re still human. And a lot of blood, sweat and tears. All combined with the unforgettable stenches of raw sewage, blood and sweat, and spilled gasoline.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He breaks the silence first, pushing away his empty plate and reaching for his smoothie. Satisfied with her attempt to get food into her belly; her own meal almost completely finished save for a couple bites of toast and a small handful of grapes. Her feet once more resting in his lap; both hands curled around the plastic tumbler that contains the thickened ‘super shake’ he’d made for her earlier.

“By ‘it’ I’m assuming you mean Mark?”

Tyler nods.

“What more is there to say? He’s in town. Not like there’s anything we can really do about it. Not until he at least makes a move.”

“I’ve got guys trying to track him down. Looking into every hotel, every bed and breakfast, every short term rental within a fifty mile radius. Unless he’s gone totally off the grid and he’s holed up in a cave somewhere, my guys will find him.”

“Is that really what you were doing last night? Taking care of all of that stuff? Getting people going on all this?”

“It was some of what I was doing. Not all of it. When you came in, I was doing exactly what I told you I was. I’d already gotten it all set up; guys already starting to dig. Told ‘em not to leave any stone unturned; Mark’s crafty and he’s slippery and he’s going to do everything he can to avoid me catching up to him. He wants the element of surprise; get to you when my guard is down. I’m hoping to get to him before that happens.”

“When do you ever let your guard down?”

“Even I slip up, Esme. You know that better than anyone.”

“Tyler Rake doesn’t make mistakes when it’s family on his line. He rarely makes them when it’s complete strangers he’s looking out for. You’re not the type to fall asleep at the wheel, babe. Especially when it comes to the kids. And ESPECIALLY when it comes to me.”

“I can’t be around you twenty-four seven. There’s going to be times I can’t be with you. As much as I’d love to be glued to your hip…”

“Do you trust the guys you picked? You don’t exactly hand that out lightly, Tyler. And you’ve always been very careful about who you bring into the business. You’ve always had the strictest hiring practices I’ve ever seen. You don’t just bring anyone aboard. And if you’re willing to put them in charge of keeping an eye on him…”

“I trust them when it comes to the job. They’re some of the best I’ve ever seen, actually.”

“Other than yourself, you mean.

“They’re good, Me. They’re quick on their feet and they’re strong as fuck and they will not back down. From anyone or anything.”

“But…”

“But I don’t fully trust anyone when it comes to you. That’s not something I can give; just hand over your life like that. No matter how well I know someone or how good of a merc they are. But I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s not possible to be around every second of every day. I wish it was. I wish I was the only one taking care of you. But…”

“If your gut tells you that these guys can handle it, then that’s what you go with. I trust you, Tyler. Whether it’s protecting me on your own or making the decision to hand it off to someone else. Your instincts are so strong. Some of the strongest I have ever seen. And if they’re telling you that this is right...that these men are right…”

“They’re telling me that I don’t have any other choice. That I NEED to trust these guys. And I want to Esme; I want to be able to sit here and tell you that I trust them one hundred percent. But other than you? There’s no one I trust that way.”

“If you say this is the right decision and that these are the right people, then I’ll go with that. Because I trust YOU. I always have. I always will. So if this is the move you need to make and you’re confident in it…”

“As confident as I’m gonna be.”

“Then there’s nothing more to talk about. If you trust them, then so do I. Simple as that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then offers a small smile and once more takes her hand; lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“I know you don’t have any answers. And to be honest, I don’t expect any. But I just don’t understand. Why is he doing this? Why now? If it’s a revenge thing, why wait this long? I haven’t been married to him for fifteen years. Why wait that long?”

“I don’t know, Me. I don’t even know if that’s his angle.”

“Everything says it is. What else could he possibly want? Do you think he’s a threat? To me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler reluctantly admits. “I do. He wouldn’t come out of the woodwork after all this time and play all those little mind games in New York and then make it a point to show up here IF he wasn’t planning something. I just don't know exactly what it is. Or when he’s gonna make his move. And hopefully the guys I have trying to find him will track him down. Sooner the better.”

“What will they do with him? If they do find him?”

“Found a little out of the way place in the northern territory. Somewhere they can keep him; until I can get there. Off the beaten track, no through roads, heavy bush. Not a single soul around. Figure that’s for the best, yeah? Keep him somewhere no one can hear screaming and pleading for his life.”

“You’re going to handle that yourself?”

“Hopefully. Told my guys that they can rough him up, but I want him very much alive. So he can feel every goddamn thing I do to him. And I know you’re probably thinking this is a throwback to McMann; taking him hostage and torturing his ass. But…”

“You do what you need to do, Tyler. You do whatever you feel he deserves. I’m not going to think any less of you. And Lord knows that I’ve had quite a few fantasies about how brutal I would love you to be if you ever got your hands on him. I’m not going to ask how and I don’t expect you to tell me. You just do what you need to do. To make him suffer and make him pay for what…” Her voice cracks; tears of both rage and insurmountable pain welling in her eyes. “...just make him pay. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

Sliding his chair away from the table, he’s at her side in only three long strides; dropping to a knee in front of her and taking her trembling hands in his.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

“I’ll make him pay, Esme. I promise.”

“Everything he did to him. Everything he said. It’s just all coming back. All those horrible, mean, degrading things he called me. All the times he forced me to do disgusting, horrible things to him. All the nasty, gross shit that HE did to ME.”

He feels the rage that immediately begins to take hold; his jaw setting and tightening and the blue of his eyes becoming much darker. Bile settling in the back of his throat; acrid and burning. He hates hearing about it; the horrific things that she’d been subjected to at the hands of someone who was supposed to love her, protect her, and give her a good life. The person he loves more than anything else in the world and would gladly lay his life down for. Not just his wife, but his best friend and the mother of his children and the centre of his universe.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” he says, and tightly squeezes her hands. “Nothing good will come from going there. Nothing…”

“He is an evil, sick, demented person,” she continues, words struggling to make it through the sobs. “He used to make me clean the baseboards and the grout with my toothbrush and then he’d force me to use it afterwards. If he was in a mood and didn’t like what I made for dinner, he’d throw it on the floor and he’d make me get on my hands and knees and force me to eat it. Like I was a dog! And when I tried to fight back, the beatings just got worse and worse and worse and…”

“That’s enough,” he gently orders, and releases his hold on her hands in favour of drawing her into his embrace. An arm wrapped around her waist and a palm resting on the back of her head; pressing a kiss to her temple and her cheek before drawing her face down to his shoulder. “No more. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t go back to that place.”

One of her hands clutch desperately at the back of his shirt, the other clamping down on the nape of his neck. “How do I ever get over it? How do I ever fully leave all that behind? I thought I was doing okay with it. I thought I was finally putting it all past me. I thought…”

“Sometimes there’s things we don’t really get over. Not completely, anyway. And that was fucking hell; the shit that he put you through. I’m sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Is it weird that sometimes I think about ‘what if’? That I’ll wonder what it would have been like if we’d met some other way? Some other time. Some other place. Before all the bad shit ever happened. Imagine? If we’d met before all of that; if we’d found each other and healed one another sooner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking about that stuff. But babe….listen to me….” He pulls away and cradles her face in his hands; thumbs swiping at the tears that continue to fall “...you can’t live the rest of your life thinking about that. Because if none of the bad ever happened? We wouldn’t have met. Because all the loss and the bullshit put us on the path that led us to each other. And yeah; it was fucking painful and I wanted to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger so many times. But in the end, all that crap? All the hard stuff? It brought you into my life. You know that. I KNOW you know that.”

“What if it was all for nothing? You spent YEARS trying to make up for all his mistakes. You didn’t care how messy I was or how messy my life had been before you. You just picked up the pieces and you put me back together. And you never complained ONCE; You just did it.”

“I did it because I love you. Because I couldn’t exactly go and find the guy and kill him with my bare fucking hands. And believe me, I’ve thought about it many times. About how I’d do it. And how I’d make it as slow and painful as possible.”

“All the time and the work you put into fixing me. What if Mark puts me over the edge and I become a big mess again? What if all of a sudden I’m in a million fucking pieces again? What then? It will all be for nothing?”

“No. It won’t. And you know why? Because even if you fall apart a thousand times, each time I’m going to pick those pieces up and I’m going to find a way to make them up. I love you, Esme. More than I ever loved anyone. More than I even thought was possible. And if it DOES happen...you do fall apart...I’m just going to be here to pick you...and all those pieces….back up.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“Baby, you deserve the fucking world. And I’d give it to you if I could. Come here…” Pressing a kiss to her brow, he tangles his fingers in her hair and draws her head down onto his shoulder; other hand moving in slow, comforting circles in the middle of her back. “...everything’s alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not that I’m scared. Not of him getting a hold of me. I know that you’d never let him get that close. You’d do anything to protect me. I’ve never...ever...doubted that. I just hate what it’s doing to me; him being back in my life. I feel like I’m drowning in all this stuff from the past and that there’s no way you’ll be able to pull me out of it. Like it’s going to suck me under and you won’t stand a chance of getting me back.”

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t LET that happen.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,,” she admits. “Worrying all the time about the baby and trying so hard to take care of the other kids and now this crap with Mark and him being so close to us.”

“I know it’s really overwhelming right now, Me. I know it’s a lot of things being heaped on your plate. And believe me, I am taking as much of it off as I can. And this stress with Mark is just making everything else seem even worse. But I got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

“You got lots of help with the kids. You got me, you got Stel, Riley’s always willing to drop everything and lend a hand. And you know how much grandpa Koen loves to spend time with them. He’s always ready, willing, and able to step up.”

Managing a laugh, she pulls back and swipes at her tears with the back of her hands. “He was in fine form last night, huh?”

“He was definitely on top of his ‘shit talk Tyler’ game.”

“Everything he says, he says with love. He’s a wreck, you know. When he showed up in Dhaka. He was all laughs and jokes at first and I’m sure that was just to calm his nerves, because when he got to your room? He just lost it. Totally broke down. I’ve never seen him get that emotional since.”

“I guess he’s got a little bit of a soft spot for me. Considering I was an enormous shit head when I first met him and he threatened to beat the attitude out of me. And believe me; he tried a couple times. Tough love, yeah? He’s the guy that turned me into the solider I became. And tried to stop me from destroying myself after everything fell apart. Spent years trying to talk some sense into me. Never stuck.”

“Guess you just weren’t ready for that yet. You just had a bit more of your journey to take. I’m sorry it was as crappy as it was. That you had to go through what you did.”

“Lost my kid and my sobriety. And probably most of my sanity.”

“It’s not fair. That you had to go through so much. Starting right from you were a little boy. Not a single step of your path has been easy.”

“No. I guess it hasn’t. But every one of those steps was worth it. ‘Cause look where I am now. I’m a long way from The Kimberley.”

“Leaps and bounds,” she smiles. “Even in the last five years.”

“It was worth it. It was ALL worth it. And this? Whatever the hell THIS is? With Mark? That’s just another bump in the road we gotta get past. I just need you to trust me. That’s it.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Tyler. Always.”

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he promises, and once more gathers her into a tight, protective embrace. “I didn’t lose you in New York and I’m sure as hell not gonna lose you now. Especially not to him.”

The scrape of the screen door opening upon its track captures his attention, and he glances up in time to see his oldest son step onto the porch. Hair mussed from sleep and sticking up in several different directions; barefoot and clad in only a pair of blue, red, and white plaid pyjama bottoms. And it’s the first time that he’s noticed just how grown up that his namesake is becoming; only ten, but tall and athletically built with well chiselled ab muscles and noticeable definition in his arms and shoulders. All long limbs and torso and tanned skin; brilliant, expressive blue eyes and his once shoulder length dirty blond hair now chopped short. Despite his issues with impulse control, his diagnosis with ADHD, and his volatile temper, he always seems much older and wiser than his actual age; independent and detail and routine oriented and always willing to step up and lend a hand with his younger siblings or with chores and repairs around the house. And it’s bitter sweet; his first son after losing Austin growing up in what seems like the blink of an eye. Proud of him for the person...the man...that he’s becoming but missing the little boy he was; the one who’d be attached to his hip and who explored the world with wide eyed, breathless abandon and wanted nothing more than to exactly like his old man.

“Dad?” Worry tarnishes the ten year old’s voice; eyes darkening and narrowing as he observes the sight in front of him. “What’s going on? What…?”

“Nothing, mate. Your mum and I were just having a chat. She just got a little...worked up.”

“About what?” He finally approaches, a hand on the back of his mother’s chair as he leans in to check on her. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Just some adult stuff. Your mum’s just a little emotional today.”

“Mummy?” TJ lays a palm on her shoulder, gently squeezing and then pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you okay? What happened? What..?”

“I’m alright,” Esme assures him, and turns her face into his, pecking his lips. “Daddy and I were just talking and…”

“You don’t look alright. You’re crying. Why are you crying?” A mixture of panic, worry, and the beginnings of anger creep into his voice. And he fixes his father with a steely glare. “What’s wrong with mum? Why is she crying? What were you talking about that would upset her?”

“Just a couple serious things,” Tyler informs him. “ADULT things. Things you don’t need to worry about.”

TJ’s jaw clenches. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. Why would you…?”

“Daddy didn’t do a thing,” Esme assures him. “Like he said we were having a chat and things turned a little serious and I got emotional. That’s it. He didn’t do anything or say anything wrong. I got upset and I started to cry and he was just trying to comfort me. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause if something else happened…”

Turning sideways in her chair, she clasps her son’s face in her hand. “Tyler James. Listen to what I’m saying. Daddy did nothing wrong. I started crying and he got worried and he was trying to calm me down. He didn’t say or do anything. He was trying to help. He wanted to cheer me up. That’s all.”

“Mummy…”

“That’s all,” she insists. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but we’re telling the truth. I just got emotional about some things we were talking about. That’s all. Daddy would never...EVER...do anything to make me cry. Unless it’s happy tears.”

TJ sighs heavily. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. But thank you.,” she presses a kiss to his lips and smooths a hand over his unruly hair. “I’m okay, baby man. There is nothing for you to worry about, okay? And good morning, by the way. Thought for sure you’d sleep in a lot longer; all the running around you did after the littlest yesterday.”

“Dad said we could go surfing. Before everyone else got up. I set my alarm.”

“Well the water looks perfect today. Or as you would say, the waves looking ‘bitchin’.”

Excitement replaces worry and simmering anger. “Dad checked the surf report last night. They said it was going to be perfect conditions. And that it could just be us. I like when it’s just us. It’s a lot more fun. And we sit on our boards and talk. A lot.”

“Then I’ll let you guys get to it. I’m sure you have a lot of boy stuff to talk about.”

Tyler pushes himself to his feet as his wife slips out of her chair; hand on the small of her back as she stands. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she assures him, standing on her tiptoes to return his kiss. “I’ll take the dirty stuff in and I’ll grab some towels and throw them out here for you guys. And maybe I’ll even crash on the couch; until the rest of the hoodlums wake up.”

“If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

“I’ll be fine, Tae. Everything will be fine.”

Nodding in agreement, he offers a small smile and presses his lips to her temple. Watching as she gathers the dirty dishes, mugs, and cutlery and carries them into the house. TJ gallantly holding the door open for her; a broad, beaming smile spreading across his face as she plants a kiss on his cheek.

“IS mum okay?” The ten year old turns to him once Esme is out of ear shot.

“She’s fine, mate. She’s just going through some stuff.”

“Bad stuff or…?”

“Just some stuff. Nothing you need to worry about. You’re mum’s alright. And you know I’d never hurt her, yeah? That I would never...ever...say or do anything to break her heart. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. But you used to. Do stuff like that. I know I was just little then, but…”

“I’m not that guy anymore, TJ. I haven’t been him in a long time. I would never hurt your mother. I love her in ways you can’t even begin to understand. And I would do anything to make her happy and to keep her safe.”

“Is there a reason to? Keep her safe?”

“No,” Tyler lies. “There’s not.”

*****

From the moment he first held Austin in his arms, Tyler had pictured these moments; introducing his son to surfing and forming a tremendous bond over their shared love of the water. Teaching him how to not only handle the waves, but to give himself over to the release and the escape that comes not with conquering them, but being submissive to them; gliding smoothly and confidently yet remembering that nature always has the upper hand and should never be questioned or underestimated. When he had first found out he was going to be a father, he’d often daydream about sharing his passions with his offspring; surfing, fishing, hiking, and camping trips. But military life had been all consuming, as had been his commitment to it; putting fighting the battles of others higher on his list of priorities than his wife and soon to be born child. And having the baby home hadn’t changed a damn thing; signing up for extra tours whenever he got the chance, putting his be all and end all into the army and having nothing left to give his family.

For his fifth birthday, he’d gifted Austin with two things; a custom made surfboard and the promise that he’d change his ways and become the dad that his kiddo needed and deserved. Neither of things ever came to fruition; Austin diagnosed with cancer just three weeks later and the board going unused and Tyler’s promise dying the moment the news had been dropped into their laps. And when Austin had died, so had all of the dreams and the hopes that Tyler had had as father; the loss tremendous and robbing him of both his heart and soul. The grief composed of many things. Not just the loss of his boy, but of all of those expectations, and fantasized moments, and the memories that would have been made during them.

He never dreamed that he’d ever be a father again; his marriage and his military career both disintegrating and finding him throwing himself headlong into mercenary life and a battle with booze and drug addiction. Wracked with so much guilt, regret, and profound grief that he truly believed he deserved his self imposed exile from the rest of humanity. He was a monster and not deserving of any form of a normal life; taking the most dire and dangerous of jobs in hopes one would kill him, drinking and popping pills in hopes of not just numbing the physical pain, but the mental anguish as well.

In the blink of an eye and in the midst of his deepest and darkest moments of suicidal ideation, everything changed. In the form of a tiny, tattooed and pierced brunette with the most beautiful smile and dark eyes he’d ever seen. Since then, every blessing has come with great sacrifice. Ones that he’s willing to pay over, and over, and over again for even a slice of the life that he has now. It’s a normalcy that isn’t normally rewarded to guys like him; a wife and children and a beautiful home in an even more beautiful place. So many bridges burned and toes trampled upon; exuberant coin in your pocket in exchange for scars that litter your body and enemies within all four corners of the world. It’s generally a short existence; catching a bullet in the midst of all the action or a bodyguard or a mercenary -contracted to take you out- catching you by surprise. Most never even attempt any form of domesticity; preferring the company of random women -or men- instead of committing and settling down. The job follows you. Stays with you. Remains embedded in your soul. Accompanied by long lists of evil people you’ve crossed and will forever seek revenge, debts that you can never repay and will forever be held over your head, and addiction and mental health issues. You’re never fully away from it; it will follow you wherever you go, keep you up at night, have you constantly looking over your shoulder or being wary of the smallest of bumps in the night. It’s easier to not get someone else tangled up in the madness; half the time it’s hard just to keep yourself alive, let alone a spouse and children. They’d be the first to pay the price for your misdeeds, and bringing them into that kind of world would be considered not just risky, but selfish as fuck.

Sometimes he still sees himself that way; a weakened, pathetic version of himself that opted to put targets on the backs of others instead of just dealing with his issues and his loneliness in a healthier, SOLO way. But love had found him. Somehow. In the midst of all the darkness and ruin and decay of his life, something...someone... so beautiful and bright had stumbled into his path. She’d effortlessly and easily saw past the hardened and fearless facade he’d created through an endless cycle of self loathing, sorrow, and regret; slowly chipping away at the walls he’d built around the remains of his heart and making him feel alive again. Opening his eyes to a different future and sparking a longing and a desperation and a hunger that he had felt to his very soul. Wanting her...ALL of her...in a way he’d never wanted anyone else. Trusting her in a way he hadn’t since the death of his mother; finding himself both soothed and ignited by the compassion in her voice, the kindness in her eyes, and the gentleness of her hands whenever she touched him.

His heart had been hers long before he’d ever gotten the nerve to tell her so. And he’d been both terrified and filled with hope when he’d even dare to think about a life...a future...with her. He has always felt that his time with her has been far more than he deserves; that kind of existence reserved for those who are morally stronger AND superior. But for some reason, fate had smiled upon him; giving a woman that so plainly wears her heart upon her sleeve and remains stalwartly devoted and faithful. Bearing him seven...eventually eight...children and building a home and a life beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

He’d spent the better part of an hour feeling tremendously grateful and unabashedly proud as he’d watched part of that life so confidently handling the waves below and around him. Ten years old but sometimes so wise and mature beyond his years; misunderstood by so many and not given the credit or the attention that he so rightfully deserves. A fearless, tough kid with an enormous heart; so much love caught up inside him that he’s sometimes unable to express or even cope with it. Exploring the world and the elements with near reckless abandon; always looking for adventure and forever staring challenge straight in the eye. And it’s bittersweet; the act of making the memories with THIS son that his mind had created with for the boy he’d lost years before.

“What do you think it feels like?” TJ asks, as they sit side by side. A hundred yards from shore where the water is calmer; perched upon their boards with their legs dangling over the sides. “To get bit by a shark.”

Tyler glances over; noticing small inklings of his wife inside the ten year old. The way his namesake tilts his head to the side and his eyes narrow as he contemplates a question. The smooth bridge of the nose and the shape of his jaw. But he’s definitely a ‘chip off the old block’; the brilliant blue eyes and the broad shoulders and the long, lanky body, the cheeky smirk and the smile that brightens his entire face. And there’s more. So much more. A strikingly similar personality; dry witted and quick with the sarcasm and the smart ass comments. And the temper; volatile and unpredictable, always seeming as if it’s on a permanent, slow boil.

“I don’t know, mate. But I can guarantee that it does NOT feel good.”

“Mick Fanning...the surfer that mum likes...he got attacked by one. During a competition. A great white. Hit him right in the face with its tail! Can you imagine? I would have been shitting bricks for sure! It would be kind of cool to see one, though. We’ve only ever seen a couple of dorsals in the water. When we’ve been hanging out on the beach. Kinda weird we’ve NEVER come across one.”

“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you. I’ve spotted a few in my time. Long before you were even a twinkle in your mumma’s eyes. Wasn’t close enough to go one on one with ‘em. Thank Christ.”

“Sometimes I get this really weird feeling in my stomach. When we’re out here. It’s like something is just moving around in there; kicking at your insides and tugging at them and stuff. Like my body is telling me that there’s something underneath me. Maybe even WATCHING me. You ever get something like that? Where you just KNOW something is there?”

“Had that happen a lot. Always been too chicken shit to look down, though.”

“I like that, you know. That you’re not afraid to admit you’re scared of things. Lots of guys are. They act all big and bad and like nothing bothers them, but you know it’s all bullshit. You’ve never been like that. Even since I was little. You’ve always talked about being scared of things and how it’s okay to be afraid of stuff. And that we shouldn’t be embarrassed to get emotional. Cry and stuff. Do you still feel that way?”

“I do. I feel even stronger about it now. Nothing wrong with a guy being vulnerable. Doesn’t make them weak or pathetic or less of a man.”

TJ grins over at him. “Just makes them human.”

“You know, you sound a hell of a lot like your mum sometimes.”

“That’s a good thing, if you ask me. ‘Cause mum’s pretty awesome.”

“Yeah…” Tyler smiles wistfully, then glances towards the shore; his wife up from her nap and getting the littles settled for breakfast on the deck as the older kid’s lend a hand. “...she certainly is.”

TJ’s expression turns serious. “You meant it, right? When you said you didn’t say or do anything to make mum cry.”

“Everything we both told you was the truth; we were talking about some adult stuff and she got emotional. All I was trying to do was comfort her. That’s it. You know how your mum can be; when she’s feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t been sleeping well and she tries to take too much on.”

“She needs to learn how to rely on other people . And ask for help when she needs it.”

“It’s hard for her. Even after all the years she’s been with me. She finds it difficult to ask for help. Guess she’s so used to people letting her down, that she just can’t shake that part of her. We’ll just keep an eye on her and just chip in where we need to and hope for the best, yeah?”

TJ nods, then gives a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, dad. For kinda flipping out on you earlier. But I saw you kneeling in front of mummy and then I could tell she was crying and my brain just immediately went to think you’d done something wrong.”

“We’re a lot like, you and I. In a lot of ways. I tend to react a little too quickly, a little too soon. Old habits die hard. But I would never…EVER...hurt your mum. That is the last thing I want to do. Intentional or not. I love her, mate. In ways you can’t even understand. In ways I can’t even understand sometimes. I just hope that one day you get to feel that way about someone. Or close to it.”

“I just worry about her,” TJ sighs. “I don’t like when she’s upset. Especially when she cries. I hate seeing it; mummy sad. I wish I could find a way so she’d never be sad EVER again. Wouldn’t that be nice? If we could find a way to make sure mummy NEVER got sad again?”

“Yeah, mate. It would. But life isn’t like that. We gotta go through the good AND the bad. Unfortunately.”

“Mum’s been through a lot. I mean, I know you have too. But mum...I don’t know...she’s different. She’s...well...she’s my mum. I know you’re tough and strong and brave and all that. That you can handle things better. But mum puts on a good show for people I think. She lets on that she’s okay and she’s totally fine with taking care of everything one else. But sometimes? Sometimes I don’t think she’s okay at all. Do you ever think that? That she’s just pretending to be alright?”

“I don’t just don’t think. I know she’s doing it. And believe me, I’ve tried to get her out of it. But your mum…”

“And she has the nerve to call US stubborn? She is way worse.”

“She’s got a hard head,” Tyler agrees. “And in some ways, it’s a good thing. She never gave up on me. Even when everyone around her was telling her she should. She just ignored them. Had my back no matter what other people said.”

“It’s ‘cause she loves you. And you’re the first person to ever really love her. Other than her dad and he died when she was young, so ....” TJ rakes a hand through his wet hair. “...sometimes it must feel like it’s just you and mum against the world, huh?”

“I’ve felt that way. A few times. But then all you guys started coming along and our team got even bigger. I like to think we ALL have each other’s backs.”

“Of course we do. We’re family. We’re all in this together. And we’re Rakes. Means we’re tough and we don’t back down. From anyone or anything. We might be scared, but we’re still standing up for what’s right. That’s what you taught us. That even though we might be afraid, we gotta do the right thing. Always. A man isn’t measured by the things he has, but by the people he’s helped.”

Tyler grins. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it in a book at school. One of the grade eight kids left on the playground and I was bored and I found it and I just started reading it. I guess I liked that line for some reason. It stuck in my head. Even if there isn't much else up there.”

“Don’t you do that,” Tyler gently scolds. “I don’t want to EVER hear you do that. Talk shit about yourself.”

TJ frowns. “It’s kinda hard when everyone around you is doing it.”

“At school?”

He nods. “I’m the dumb, crazy kid. That’s what everyone thinks. Especially the teachers.”

“They ever say that to you?”

“Not to my face. But I walked by the staff room once and they were talking about that ‘Rake kid’. About how he’ll probably end up in juvenile detention by the time he’s thirteen. And in and out of jail when he’s older. You can’t tell me that it was about Takota or Declan. I might be stupid, but I’m not THAT stupid.”

“You’re not stupid at all. And I don’t want you ever calling yourself that again. You just need some help. Find different ways to learn. Not everyone learns the same way. I was like you in school; couldn’t focus, got ignored when I asked for help, that turned into me goofing off or getting frustrated. Lots of times I put a fist into a locker or a wall. A LOT.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to college? Like mum? Is that why you went into the military?”

“I suppose that’s part of it. Guess I liked the danger and adventure of it too. Going off and fighting bad guys and getting to shoot guns and all of that shit. Never thought about actually having to kill people and what that would feel like.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Not good, mate. Not good at all.”

“Even if it’s bad people? Like that Nathan that hurt you?”

“People like him are exceptions. But for the most part? I don’t like doing it. Not even if it’s in the course of helping someone else. But sometimes…”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” his son finishes for him. “Sometimes it’s you or them, right?”

“Exactly. And don’t worry about school, alright? I’ll give them a call. Ask for a meeting. Get things sorted and get you the help you need. And deserve.”

“Man…” TJ grins. “...they are going to shit their pants when they hear from you.”

Tyler reaches out to ruffle his namesake’s hair. “Maybe. Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Wanna head in? See what mum’s cooking up?”

“I don’t know." The ten year old's nose crinkles in disgust. "Do you think it’ll be edible?”

“Is it ever?”

TJ laughs. “Dad…”

“Whatever you do, do NOT tell her I said that.”

“Don’t worry…” Leaning across his board, the ten year old wraps both arms around one of Tyler’s; squeezing tightly and laying his head against his dad’s shoulder. “...your secret’s safe with me.”

[maddiewritesstucky]

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60​ for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway. 

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea. 

"Steve,”  he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to. 

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night. 

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning. 

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the  throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of  home and family and right. 

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter. 

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’  with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off. 

...Steve’s not here to actually  see  this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will  know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve. 

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam. 

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get. 

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour. 

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted. 

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better. 

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away. 

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb. 

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on. 

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin. 

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell. 

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time. 

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’   

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock. 

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off. 

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream. 

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah  - there’s a  lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.” 

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together. 

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...” 

“Mm?” 

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?” 

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him. 

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been. 

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way. 

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it. 

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up. 

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head. 

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.” 

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?” 

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick. 

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift. 

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.” 

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D!  to  oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.”  Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway. 

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What  a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures. 

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?” 

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours. 

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins. 

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.” 

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings. 

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close.  So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.” 

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.” 

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose. 

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve��s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall. 

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.” 

“Oh my god.”   

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later. 

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly. 

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips. 

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to. 

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...” 

“Fuck,  Bucky, I...oh...” 

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him. 

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.   

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him. 

“You said it, pal.” 

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach. 

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to  Steve.  It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath. 

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.  

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair. 

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.” 

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose!  ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one  time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.” 

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time. 

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.” 

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?” 

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him. 

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

[hongism]

midnight rides - jjk ➻ 18+

➻ pairing: jungkook x female reader ➻ genre: angst, fluff, smut, s2l, barista!jungkook, bookstore worker!reader, soulmate au ➻ rating: M for Mature ➻ word count: 25.1k ➻ summary: you fall asleep on a stranger’s shoulder while riding the night train home. as it turns out, he’s not much of a stranger after all. ➻ pre-story a/n: honestly guys i have never felt more physically exhausted after writing a story in my liFE. i worked on this fic every day for the past week and a half or so and in the past few days i have been writing between 2k and 5k every night and i am so happy to be done. but also like,,,,i feel so very proud of this story and how it turned out so i hope you all feel the same :3 ➻ warnings: semi public sex, fingering, handjobs, cum eating, cum swallowing, creampie, cumplay, choking, biting, marking, hair pulling, nipple piercings, tattoos idek, thigh riding, oral: m and f receiving, size kink, dom jungkook, sub reader, sir kink, a bit of scratching, explicit sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up binches), breast play, nipple play, such sweet sickening aftercare, the gentlest, brief discussions of past trauma - car accident, death

☽     ☾

You’ve always despised trains. Since you were young, they always bothered you for one reason or another. When you were little it was because they were “too loud”, and seeing as one always passed your childhood home at obscene hours in the night, it makes perfect sense looking back. Then as you got older, you had to commute to school somehow and the train was your only option because the distance was so great between your house and the school. Once you entered university, you just festered a disdain for trains, and nothing was going to change that.

So as you sit curled against the window on the train, you can only think about how much you hate the thing. It’s still loud, loud as ever really, and you know that you are going to be stuck on the damn vehicle for a long while. You want nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. It’s late; you got off work at a ridiculous hour (honestly, 1 am? Is that even allowed for a day job?) and now you have to commute back home on the damn train.

To make matters even better, you can’t even curl up on the booth because someone is sitting next to you less than a foot away. You barely have space to breathe without bumping your elbow into his side. You aren’t sure why someone else is on the train at this hour. Honestly, it’s one in the morning, where is he going?

Regardless, you know you’ll be on this ride for at least another two hours because you were stupid enough to take a job this far from your apartment. Precious hours of sleep lost because of a damn train. The only good thing about this whole situation is that at least it’s a Friday night so you can sleep in some before having to go back to work yet again.

With a small sigh, you pull away from the window, the glass fogged up by your warm breaths. You glance around the train car, finding other bodies occupying the seats around you. So it’s not just this one guy next to me… I guess that makes me feel a bit better. It’s still a mystery as to why so many people are on the train this late at night. You make this trip regularly, and yet there are never so many people with you. Perhaps six or seven at most, but never a nearly packed car like this.

Against better judgment, you dare to look at the man next to you – although upon second glance, he seems more like a boy. As you move, a ringing resounds in your ears, something akin to Christmas bells, and you scoff at the idea of some kid carrying bells with them. He can’t be much older than you, if older at all. His eyes are squeezed shut, skin wrinkled around his eyes from the pressure, and his head lolls forward every once in a while. He is asleep by the looks of it, albeit in a very uncomfortable position. He – like you – must be returning home late from his job, a brown apron still tied around his torso. The overwhelming scent of coffee beans and espresso lingers in the air around him as well.

It’s a strange and small relief, knowing that you aren’t the only one working drastic hours and traveling a long way to get home. The train jerks; the boy’s head falls forward further, and his body slumps in your direction. You have to bring up a hand to defend yourself from the sudden weight of his body. His skin is warm to the touch, another welcome relief in the cold train car. Between the heat of his skin and the warmth of the scent emanating from his clothes, everything about him seems warm and comfortable.

You blink furiously before pushing him off you again. Sleep deprivation is truly getting to your head. Still, his skin felt like the warm blanket you have back at home, and you want nothing more to curl up against that warmth and bury yourself in it.

You steady his body against the seat then turn away, resisting the urge to brush the loose strands of hair away from his closed eyes. You nearly slap yourself to push that temptation away. The gentle waves of his dark brown hair look soft to the touch, a shine to the strands even in the dim train lights. It’s belated but you finally notice the ink decorating the skin of his arms, which give him a much older vibe than you initially thought. You only take a moment to scan the markings along his arms though before moving your gaze elsewhere. The noise coming from the train drowns out his breathing but you can see the way his chest rises and falls with each passing second. He must be exhausted beyond belief to be sleeping so hard on a train like this. Then again, you can’t blame him because you feel minutes away from sleep yourself.

The train rumbles on without cease, unbothered by your thoughts and musings. The boy sleeps on the same as before, completely unaware of his near tumble to the floor of the train car. And you, well, you let your head fall back against the cushioned booth and stare at the back of the seat in front of you. The lull of the train’s hum and rumble works like a spell. Exhaustion hits with the force of a rhinoceros, sleep washing over you, and you let yourself fall asleep without any further inhibitions.

You awake with a jolt, fingers tapping at your arm incessantly. The rumble of the train has died down to a faint hum, nothing more than a delicate purr. The previously dim lights of the train car have become bright and fluorescent again, harsh on your eyes as they flutter open and take in your surroundings. The first thing your senses pick up is the scent of espresso, then something brown in front of your vision, and the train car seems to tilt in your vision. A foreign weight rests on your head, weighing you down and pressing you further against the wall of brown in the edge of your vision.

A finger continues to prod at your arm, one poke every few seconds, and you slowly come to the realization of where you are and exactly what is going on. Before you stands a young woman, her head tilted like yours.

“Hun, you and your boyfriend ought to wake up before you miss the next stop,” she says, tone quiet. You peer at her, confusion etched onto your features, but she just continues to smile back at you before turning and walking away from your booth. My… boyfriend? I don’t have one?

Then it hits you. The scent of espresso, the brown clothing, the warmth emanating from your side: you’ve fallen asleep on your booth companion.

“I’m so sorry!” You blurt as you sit up, pushing away from the man next to you. The action brings him out of his sleep in a startle and his limbs flail as he jerks awake. It takes a few terse moments for him to gather his bearings and realize what’s going on, but once he seems to remember where he is, he turns to you with wide, doe-like eyes. He blinks back at you in shock. His lips part, either to say something or just stare without speaking. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you!”

The dark-haired man jumps into action at your words, immediately shaking his head. “No, no, no! It’s totally okay! I don’t mind – I mean, I know you didn’t mean to. Don’t worry about it, I swear it’s okay.” Despite just waking up, his voice is clear and melodic. The tone carries through the air like a song and reaches your ears with an unforeseen gentleness that fills you with warmth. He raises his hands above his shoulders. “I kinda – well I, I sorta did the same to you so we’re even.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat even though he told you that it’s quite alright. “A complete stranger falling asleep on you, how awkward is that?”

“Honestly, I’ve had worse things happen to me. A pretty girl falling asleep on my shoulder is the least awkward thing to happen to me.” You blanch at his words, as does he, and it seems that the words did not come out as he thought they would. “Not pretty! I mean, no! Wait, hold on. I’m – you are pretty. Yea, you really are pretty. Super pretty. Wow. Uh, I just – I di–didn’t mean to – you know what, I’m just gonna stop talking now before I embarrass myself further.” The red hue of a blush climbs his neck quickly, touching his ears in an instant, and his eyes dart away from yours.

You open your mouth to respond even though you have no clue what to say to his rambling. Thank goodness you don’t have to say anything because the man jumps up from the booth and stares at the digital banner above the open doors of the train car.

“Oh fuck, I missed my stop,” he blurts, one hand darting to comb through his hair. You glance over at the banner as well.

“Shit, this is my stop!” You yelp and rush to grab your bag from under the seat, not wasting any time in collecting your things. The man watches you in shock before kicking into gear himself. He reaches under the booth too and snatches up his own bag before following you out the doors of the train just before they slide shut on you. You both pant as you hop off the train. It slides away without care, oblivious to your struggles. A huff escapes your lips as you watch the vehicle speed out of sight.

“Ah, uh, would you happen to know how far this station is from Station 37?” The man beside you asks, a hesitant hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. Red tinges his ears again; either that or it’s the lingering remains of his earlier blush.

“Station 37?” You echo. “This – this is Station 45?”

“Oh god. So, uh, quite a ways then.” He chuckles but the sound comes out more forced than anything else. Something in your heart twinges in sympathy for the man as he peers along the tracks.

“I could – well, you could…” You trail off before the idea leaves your lips. Possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had, and no doubt one that your mother would lecture you over for days (if not weeks). So, you do a quick turn and alter your plan a bit before sharing it with the man beside you. “There’s a hotel near my apartment? You could stay there for the night then go home in the morning.”

“Oh?” He purses his lips, mulling over the words. Then, he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth a moment later. “Ah, no, I don’t really have any money on me at the moment. I don’t get paid until the end of next week so money is a bit tight for me right now. Thanks for the offer though. I can just wait here for the next train to come.”

“Then I can wait with you,” you announce as you step around him to sit down on a bench near the tracks. Tucking your bag between your feet, you glance up at him with wide eyes and a slight smile. “I would feel bad to just… I don’t know, leave you here to wait alone?”

“Well then, I would feel bad keeping you here so late. Besides, I should be perfectly fine waiting alone. People don’t really approach me because… you know.” He has a point there, and you’re inclined to agree with him but it does nothing to quell the nagging sensation in your gut that grows with each passing moment. When you refuse to move from your spot on the bench, he seems to get the hint that you aren’t going anywhere. He joins you on the wood, pushing his bag between his legs like you did with yours.

“Uh, I didn’t catch your name,” you state, a nervous grin playing at your lips. The embarrassment of falling asleep on his shoulder is still fresh, and silence would cause that embarrassment to soar further so making conversation is the only option.

“Hm?” He glances over at you. You open your mouth to repeat yourself, but he continues speaking a moment later. “Jeon Jungkook.”

The name stops you in your tracks. Figuratively, of course, seeing as you’re sitting down.

“Jeon Jungkook?” You repeat like a parrot, smile falling as you blink at him. Not at all how I pictured him to be. What? How is this even – how can you be the Jeon Jungkook?

“That tone doesn’t sound good.” He forces out a laugh. “But, ah, let me catch your name first?”

“Y/N L/N,” you state through the disbelief. “We go to the same university, except you’ve probably not heard of me before.”

“No, no. Your name sounds somewhat familiar. I think we might’ve taken some classes together in the past? I don’t know exactly but something tells me you know me from something other than class?”

“I’ve only heard of you bec–”

“Taekwondo?”

“Taekwondo,” you confirm with a weak smile. “You are uh…”

“I’m uh? Well, that’s a new one.” Jungkook’s smile stretches across his face, cheeks scrunching up with the motion.

“I me–meant that you’re not what I imagined you to be?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side at the words, the inquiry in his eyes. “What did you expect then?”

“I expected you to be – I don’t know, uh, bigger?”

“Bigger?” Jungkook reiterates, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. It takes a moment for the unintentional innuendo to sink in, and as you realize the double entendre, it’s your turn to have a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

“More athletic! Looking. Athletic looking. Not that you don’t look athletic now! J-Just – you know, you look lean…er than most taekwondo people?” The more you ramble, the more you embarrass yourself, that’s for certain. Jungkook nods along with your words, staring at the floor rather than at you. You’re grateful for that much because if he were looking directly at you, it would make things ten times more difficult.

“I think that’s meant as a compliment?” He muses more to himself than to you. You glance over at him, eyes raking over his face for any sign of emotion, and find a smile playing at his lips. “So thank you.”

“Yes, definitely a compliment.” You release a breathy laugh. “I, uh, I heard that you quit taekwondo though.”

“Yea, recently. Well, it’s been a while now, but it still feels recent.” Jungkook leans forward, elbows coming to rest on his knees. His eyes continue to glare at the ground. Perhaps you shouldn’t push the subject but your curiosity is getting the better of you so you prod further.

“Why did you quit? You were always the top performer and the best one on the team.”

“Well, things change. People change. It was time for a change of pace. That’s when I picked up my job and started having these shitty hours.” Something about Jungkook’s answer leaves the subject unfinished, an odd lingering sensation to his words as though he isn’t telling the whole story. You should be satisfied with the amount of information you got from him, and besides, it’s really none of your business at the end of the day. should be Satisfied.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I just assumed it was one of those lifelong passions,” you mutter. You pick at a loose thread on the hem of your shirt, tugging at the fabric absentmindedly as you continue to speak. “I understand what it’s like having shitty hours though. I’m in the same predicament.”

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“Uh, kinda near campus. There’s a small bookstore a little ways away, and I always go there in my free time so I decided to apply for a job when I saw they were hiring.”

“Wait – Omelas Bookshop?” Jungkook sits up straight again and points at you with his index finger.

“A-Actually yea, Omelas Bookshop. How – How did you know?”

“I go there all the time,” Jungkook admits through a smile. He laughs again, this time less breathy and fragmented, a full-bodied laugh that resounds through the empty air around you. “Whenever I have free time at least. I work at the coffee shop just across the street.”

“Wait, really?” It’s your turn to echo the shocked expression and tone.

“Yes, yes. Wow, what are the chances?”

“Ha, really…” Your voice trails off and grows quiet.

“Hey, uh, this may be a left-field question but… do you believe in fate?”

“Wh-What?” You stammer, jerking your head back in Jungkook’s direction. He’s looking at you again, doe eyes wide and waiting for an answer, and for a moment you find yourself utterly stumped by the question. “Fate?” You repeat to yourself. “I-I… no. I don’t really believe in fate or destiny or anything like that.”

“Oh?” Jungkook’s lips fall into a rounded shape before being quickly replaced by a weaker smile. “I do. Fate, destiny, soulmates – all of it. Some things are just too strange to be called coincidence.”

“I disagree with that,” you mutter. A twinge of bitterness sneaks into your tone that you didn’t intend to let through, and Jungkook immediately picks up on it.

“That’s sounds… rather personal but I won’t push you to explain it.” Jungkook hums before turning to look down the train tracks. “Uh, do you think another train will be coming soon? I don’t want you to keep waiting on me.” You blink down the tracks as he does, looking for any hint of an oncoming train, but nothing is there. Your eyes move to the back of Jungkook’s head. If I don’t offer something, he’s gonna be out here alone for another two or three hours…

Time for the bad idea, then, you decide.

“I-I, my apartment – well, I have a pullout bed in my couch. I never use it because I don’t have anyone come over but… I could give you a spare set of sheets and some pillows?”

Jungkook’s head whips back in your direction, and you immediately turn away to avoid eye contact. You can practically feel the heat of his stare on your face, and it only encourages a tidal wave of embarrassment. It feels like a dumb suggestion all of a sudden. It’s too late to take back the words now though because they are hanging in the air between you two, waiting for a response from him.

“I-I wouldn’t – I don’t want to intrude. That’s – it’s your apartment. I don’t wanna get in your way or anything,” he refutes through a string of stammers.

“I think we both know that another train won’t come around for at least two hours. My apartment is only a five-minute walk from here. That’s basically two extra hours of sleep.” Your logic remains sound. Jungkook can’t refuse the offer at this rate, and he seems to be considering it.

“But… I don’t… I would feel bad. Or that I owe you something?” He tries again to refuse the offer. A yawn passes through his lips as soon as he finishes speaking, and he blinks down at the ground with a growing expression of defeat. “I-I will bring you coffee sometime. Or buy you a meal?”

“No, no. You won’t owe me anything, I swear. It’s a favor! I don’t need anything in return.” You stand up, pulling your bag up as you go, and smile down at Jungkook. “I promise it’s okay. I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t. Besides, I feel a bit more at ease knowing that we go to the same school and vaguely knowing who you are.”

Jungkook hesitates one last time before standing up with you and grabbing his own bag. He slings it around his shoulder then extends a hand to you. You stare at the outstretched appendage. A moment passes in silence, then you blink up to his face and back down at his hand.

“Your backpack?” He says once he reads the confusion on your face. “At least let me carry it for you.”

“No that is really unnecessary. I don’t wa–that’s just really awkward isn’t it?”

Jungkook ignores your huffs and puffs, snatching your bag from your hands and throwing it over his shoulder along with his own. You sigh at the defeat, unable to say anything further to defend yourself.

“Okay, fine.” You motion for him to follow you as you round the bench and head away from the train tracks. He lingers a moment, then you hear the scuffing of boots along concrete and his form pops up in the edge of your vision.

“Are you sure this is alright? I don’t want to intrude or anything. Is your roommate going to be okay with this?”

“I don’t have a roommate. I live alone because my awful work schedule has driven all my other roommates off.” A laugh follows your words even though there’s no humor in them. More or less, it’s a sympathy laugh for yourself. If Jungkook notices, he opts not to comment on it, which you’re grateful for. “But yes, I’m sure this is okay! It’s no trouble at all really.”

“O-Oh, okay. I just don’t wanna get in your way.”

“You won’t! I promise! It’s not like I ever use my couch much anyways since I’m always out for work or school.” You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant and chill about the whole situation. In all honesty, your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, your throat feels like it might collapse on itself at any second, and you might pass out if you stop talking. You are absolutely crumbling on the inside and it is taking everything in your power to conceal that.

“That makes me feel loads better then…” Jungkook murmurs, voice fading as he turns his head away from you. “I’ve never been to this part of the city before. It looks so different from where I live even though it’s not too far from here.”

“The city seems a lot bigger once you go to new places, huh? I used to think everything looked like this but once I started working at the bookstore I noticed that everything was much larger than I made it out to be.”

“The world just gets bigger and bigger as you get older,” Jungkook says. You hum in response. “How long have you lived here?”

“Since I started college, but I lost lots of roommates along the way.”

“What year are you at university? Sorry, I don’t mean to be making this an interrogation or anything like that, I’m just curious.”

“I don’t mind! I’m a senior this year.”

“Oh really? I am too!” Jungkook nudges you with his elbow, another bright smile stretching his lips. You laugh along with him and turn to look at him. In hindsight, it’s a mistake to do that because as you move, the moonlight gleams down on him. You freeze in your tracks. The pale moonlight cascades over his features, feathering through the loose strands of hair around his forehead, following the gentle slope of his nose, accentuating the rounds of his cheeks as he grins, glistening over a set of straight teeth. Your brain almost malfunctions and breaks down as you look over him. He’s just so… pretty for lack of a better word, but you can’t really pinpoint what the right word would be for his looks. He continues to smile, eyes hiding behind lids squeezed shut as he scrunches his nose up. It hides your dumbfounded expression from him for the time being.

Still, you shake your head and slap your own cheek in attempts to force yourself out of the stupor you’ve fallen in.

“Still think it’s a coincidence?” He asks after a moment, one eye cracked open to look at you. A huff leaves your lips. You spin on your heel, and instead of answering, continue to walk along the sidewalk. Jungkook chases after you, a light and airy laugh carrying through the air as he does. “Fate is funny, you know. I think that’s why I believe in it. Crazy things can happen every day with no explanation, and yet fate comes in and takes all the credit. How about that?”

“Coincidence deserves more credit,” you counter. The smile on Jungkook’s lips falters, he looks over at you then back up to the clear night sky.

“Maybe it does, but not from me.”

“Here we are,” you mutter as you come upon your apartment building. Jerking at thumb at the door, you motion for Jungkook to follow you inside. A gust of warm air hits both of you as soon as you step through the doors, a welcome kindness compared to the cold spring air outside. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you make your way up the winding staircase, all the way up to the fifth floor, then you veer off and make a left at the top. After a quick fumble with your keys (which you nearly drop on the top of Jungkook’s chunky black boots), you manage to unlock the door to your apartment and bare the interior to the man beside you.

“Ladies first,” he says and motions inside for you. You roll your eyes ever so slightly, leaving him with a little huff of laughter to show that you aren’t being wholly serious, then step inside.

It’s not much to fuss about – a basic apartment with scant and ordinary decorations strewn about – but it’s home nonetheless. A cozy sensation of warmth seeps into your bones as you take in your surroundings, not one due to the actual temperature in the room, but rather one due to being home at long last.

“You can put your bag wherever I don’t mind. I normally just put mine on one of the bar stools or on the counter.”

Jungkook is too busy examining your apartment to hear what you have to say, his wide eyes dancing from wall to ceiling to floor back to the wall again.

“This is a nice place. Much nicer than mine at least.”

“Well, I’m sure part of that is due to the price of this place. It is meant for roommates after all, but I just can’t find a better place anywhere else. Maybe I’m too attached to it after four years though. I would offer the secondary bedroom but… my last roommate kinda stole the bed? So there’s nothing in there right now except for an empty dresser.”

“Stole the bed?” Jungkook snaps to attention at that. “How does a person steal an entire bed?”

“You’re asking the wrong person!” You raise your hands in defense. “I’m not the one who stole it after all. I just woke up one morning and the whole bed was gone. Along with him and all his belongings aside from a dresser full of clothes. So how about that? I got free men’s clothes and he got an entire bed.” Jungkook laughs as you recall the story, moving around you to set both his bag and yours on one of the bar stools.

“What if I told you…” Jungkook trails off. He slowly turns towards you, and there’s a sneaky and mischievous gleam in his eyes that you don’t trust one bit. He attempts to hold back a bout of laughter as he finishes his train of thought. “…that my current roommate brought his own bed when he moved in even though there was already one in the room.”

“Then I would call you a liar, Jeon Jungkook!” You exclaim when he can’t hold his laughter back any longer.

“Would you call it fate then?” He inquires through the laughter, and you respond with a roll of your eyes.

“I would still call you a rotten liar!” You persist as you walk towards your bedroom to retrieve some sheets for Jungkook.

“Do you need help?” He calls after you.

“No, it’s okay! I’ve got it.” You wave him away with your hand. “If you want a change of clothes, you could try scrounging around in my roommate’s old dresser. They should be clean but you never know with men honestly. No offense!”

“None taken, none taken. You’re right about that.”

You duck into your room after hearing Jungkook’s words, not waiting for any further comments, and instead focus on grabbing a fresh set of sheets from your closet. When you stumble back into your small living room, Jungkook is nowhere in sight so he must’ve gone into your roommate’s old room after all. You dump the bundle of sheets onto an armchair before turning to the couch. Frankly, you’ve never tried pulling the bed out; the only reason you know it exists is because you saw your roommate use it on multiple occasions. Peeling back the cushions, you sigh at the sight before you.

“Uh, Jungkook?” You call out.

“Yeah?” His voice is faint and distant to a degree, but it grows louder as he steps back into the living room. When you glance up at him, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as he is in the middle of tugging a far too formfitting t-shirt over his head. Silver glimmers across his chest, small beads perked on either side of each nipple, and you nearly choke at the sight of them.

He wouldn’t… Jeon Jungkook? Of all people? Well then again, he does have a lot of tattoos… but do they even allow that in taekwondo? Maybe they are newer? He… no, no, no. I must be hallucinating. I mean – no, don’t even think about it, Y/N. Just – just ignore it.

You whip your head away to avoid seeing him half-naked and any more indication of those little beads around his pecs.

“What’s up?”

“D-Do you, uh, do you happen to–to know how to pull out?” Your brain malfunctions and stops the sentence there. It’s Jungkook’s turn to nearly lose his shit, and you struggle to fix the mistake without stammering. “P-Pull out the be-bed! Pull the couch out, pull a bed – you know? Pull the bed out!”

“A-Ah, yeah! Yep, bed. Yes, pull out the bed. From the couch. The pull out bed in the couch. Got it.” Jungkook coughs between words. Your attempts to recover the situation have obviously failed and the heat of embarrassment overwhelms your whole body. Jungkook doesn’t say anything further about your slip up; instead, he walks around the couch and grabs the handles of the mattress. “Wait – don’t you need to move this back a little?” He tilts his head in the direction of the coffee table, long hair flopping across his forehead, and you blink at him dumbly for a moment.

“Oh! Oh yea, of course!” You scoot the table out of the way with your legs, making room for the bed to extend completely. “We can move the couch back too if needed.”

“No, no, this should work just fine,” Jungkook says. A grunt follows his words, one that sends an unwelcome heat to your core, and you try not to watch the way his biceps strain against the sleeves of the white shirt as he pulls the bed out from the couch. He extends it with ease after the first tug. You bite down hard on your tongue all the while, eyes failing to leave his toned arms and the curve of his neck as he moves. “See? Easy.”

You nod in response, unable to form proper words, and move to pick up the sheets you brought out instead. “Uh, I-I–”

“Let’s do it together, yea? I’m honestly really bad at putting fitted sheets on.” Jungkook laughs and scratches the back of his neck. You toss the loose sheet his way, starting to tug the fitted one over the thin and dingy mattress. The action gives you a moment to breathe and regain your sanity because, in all honesty, you do not want to come across as a creeper to a man you just met, but you’ve probably already done that multiple times in the brief time you’ve been chatting with him.

Once the sheets are all secured around the mattress, Jungkook plops down on the cushion with a light laugh.

“That was the hard part,” he says. The smile on his face lightens the atmosphere around the two of you, a mellifluous sound that penetrates your heart like a knife. You can’t keep from grinning back at him, an action that you keep repeating over and over with him. You pass a pillow his way.

“Do you need any blankets or more pillows? I’m sure I can scrounge some more together.”

“No, this is fine! I tend to sleep late because I kinda sweat a lot in my sleep. Sorry in advance about the sheets.”

“Ah, it’s fine! I’ll just throw them in the wash anyway, so don’t worry about it!” You turn away from the couch, hesitate a second, then glance back at the man on your couch. “Sl-Sleep well. If you need anything, I’ll, uh, I’ll be in the next room.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Y/N. Really. Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me. I’m happy to help.” You leave him with a smile, retreating to your bedroom before you have the chance to embarrass yourself more than you already have. As you are making your way back to your room, Jungkook’s voice stops you as he asks one last question.

“Do you still think it was all a coincidence, Y/N?”

Your steps falter and you nearly run into the wall but you still catch the question. You leave him with no answer, mulling over the question to yourself. It lingers at the forefront of your mind as you step into your room and shut the door behind you with a quiet click.

Coincidence is a funny thing, but then again Jungkook said the same about fate. He must have noticed the same things you did – all the little coincidences – and yet he calls it fate.

What kind of coincidence? Just happening to sit next to a random stranger on the bus at one in the morning, falling asleep on his shoulder, having to get off on the same stop, then finding out that you go to the same university, are in the same year at said university, have the same major, and work across the street from each other? How on earth is that mere coincidence? Then bringing him to your apartment where you just happened to have a dresser full of clothes that magically happen to fit him like a glove? Just happening to have a pull-out couch where he can sleep, along with a spare set of sheets for it? How many times can you call something a coincidence before it becomes fate?

You pull yourself into bed with heavy limbs and dragging movements. It’s hard to wrap your mind around the situation, especially given that it’s quite late in the night, but also because none of it really makes sense to you.

Too many coincidences. Is that a possibility? And fate?

You scoff to yourself when your head hits the pillow. Fate is a joke, at least it has always been that way in your eyes. Perhaps Jungkook is right: fate is funny, but only in that it’s treated your life like a joke from start to finish. Never done you any favors or given you blessings. Everything good that has happened to you has been a result of hard work and struggle, fighting through the obstacles that “fate” has thrown your way for years and years.

Or maybe your bitterness towards fate is all due to some past trauma. Your mother used to love talking about fate, believing in it, crediting everything that happened in both her life and yours to fate. It was always a blessing and a guiding light to her. She thought it was her friend, her protector, the light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, when the actual light at the end of the tunnel came for her it was fate that caused the eighteen-wheeler to crash into her car head on, landing her in the hospital on her deathbed. And even when you were at her side then, she credited it all to fate for guiding her to the place where she was and how her life progressed over time. She was fucking content with the end fate had given her, and yet in your eyes, it was unfair. It wasn’t just. It didn’t feel right or kind or like anything good. It was a cruel slap in the face to a woman who gave her all to a “fate” that could only be wretched and evil.

Yea maybe that is why you cannot handle calling this fate. It’s too good to be fate because fate only knows how to be cruel. You’re certain of that fact.

☽     ☾

Lips crash against yours. You hum against them, letting the warmth overwhelm you and fill all your senses. They breach your skin and attack with a gentle ferocity that is foreign to you. Deft fingers trail down your sides. You barely have time to moan before they hook around the hem of your nightshirt and tug it up. Up, up, up until it goes over your head and gets tossed to the side. You bare your chest to the man before you, looking up to find his face.

Rather than a face, darkness greets you. That’s when you realize that you’re living this reality in a dream and a dream only. You don’t have much time to think about the fact that this isn’t real because the man presses his warm lips against the juncture of your neck, nipping and sucking with soft licks. A moan passes your lips as he brushes over a sensitive spot. It feels real, and that’s all that matters to you.

“Hmm…” You hum out. Bringing your hands down against his chest, you tug relentlessly at the white shirt clinging to his skin damp with sweat. He must get the hint because he leans away from your neck to tear the material off as he did to your shirt moments ago. The skin across his chest is soft, pure, so bare of marks compared to his arms that you want nothing more than to lean forward and decorate every visible inch of skin with your lips and teeth.

Large hands come down against yours and trap your wrists against the mattress beneath you. A gasp passes through your lips next. Fingers latch around your wrists, effectively pinning you down, and the man above you brings one hand down to trace the column of your neck with his index finger. You whine at the action, more so at the fact that he’s only using one hand to pin you and how big he is above you like this. His knee wedges between yours and pushes your legs open with little effort. The show of strength draws another whine from your lips, your back curves off of the bed, and he pushes you back down with the flat of his hand.

That same hand trails a path down your bare abdomen, trailing over your dripping core, and drags two fingers through the wetness of your folds. The featherlight touch has you whimpering, writhing, struggling to buck up against his hand and deepen the touch. He teases at your wetness, fingertips barely pushing in, but a moment later thick fingers slip into you and begin to scissor you open. The pleasurable sensation has you curling off the bed as his fingers crook inside you.

“Stay still,” he murmurs, voice somehow managing to be both gruff and gentle at the same time. You want to lay back and lose yourself in the pleasure but something about his voice rings familiar in your ears and you cannot let it go.

Jungkook.

Your eyes widen as you look up at the man.

I’m having a fucking sex dream about Jeon Jungkook!?

The mere shock of the situation jerks you out of slumber, you wake up with a start, and light invades your vision. Sweat pools at your skin and brings dampness to your sheats. The space between your legs is soaked as well, proof of your less than proper dream. The wet dream you just had about Jeon Jungkook. A man you barely know. And the man who is sleeping in your living room. Fantastic. Wonderful. Incredible. Absolutely fucking amazing.

You let your hands fall to the bed, clenching around the slightly wet bedsheets. Embarrassment burns your body more than anything else at the moment, and it takes you several deep breaths to recover from the lingering memory of the dream you just woke up from. Once your senses recover some, you manage to let go of the sheets and pull yourself from the bed, albeit on quaking legs. The air in the room feels cold against your dampened skin. Aside from the warm temperature, a bright scent rises to your nose and overwhelms you. It’s one that invaded your senses so strongly last night as you slept on the train, a scent that emanated from Jungkook’s body the whole time you were with him, and yet it remains foreign in your apartment.

You never make coffee; rather, you just roll out of bed and grab some coffee on your way to university. So the overwhelming scent is too much for you to handle this early in the morning, and the thought of your wet dream about him only heightening the discomfort that bubbles in your gut. With a small shake of your head, you move for the bathroom to take a quick shower and wash away the dream lingering at the forefront of your mind.

The urge to let your fingers trail down your naked body and toy at the heat between your legs is oh so tempting. You want nothing more than to release the sexual frustration pent up inside you. How easy it would be to just get off real quick in the shower and head out like nothing is wrong. And to be honest, the mental image of the delicate tattoos and piercings through his nipples are quite the encouragement as well. Of course, your mind would decide to have a sex dream at the most inopportune moment. As Jungkook would put it: it’s all fate. No. This is merely bad luck. Fate has nothing to do with it.

You manage to push the temptation aside, by the luck of a miracle for certain, and continue to shower in peace. When you step out, you’re quick to towel down and change into a fresh set of clothes. You take longer than usual to select something to wear mostly due to the fact that you are really trying to avoid going out and being in Jungkook’s presence. Both the shame of your dream and the embarrassment of potentially looking at him that way while he’s staring right at you are both ample possibilities. Unfortunately, you seem to be on a bad run of luck.

A knock resounds at your door, a series of three raps against the wood, then a hesitant voice calls out to you through the barrier.

“Y/N? I, uh, I made some coffee if you want some.” You purse your lips. Ah, so that was coffee after all. You make your way over to the door, cracking it open and sticking your head through to greet Jungkook with a strained smile.

“Yea, I’ll be out in just a moment.” He nods at your words and steps away from the door. You take several deep breaths, repeating a mental pep talk as you breathe. Come on, Y/N, this is your apartment. Not Jungkook’s. Just breathe. It’s fine. It’s all good. Everything is chill and normal and fine. You didn’t just have a sex dream about him. Act like that didn’t happen. Stop thinking with what’s between your legs and start thinking with your head.

The mental encouragement helps some, and when you step into the hall, your heart isn’t racing at a hundred miles per hour. You greet Jungkook in the kitchen with another smile, this one much less strained and awkward. He’s standing behind the counter, elbows propped on the granite top, and nurses a steaming mug of what’s presumably coffee. Upon seeing you enter, he stands upright and mimics your smile. His gaze drops a moment later, however, and he glances away from you with a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks.

“I didn’t know, uh, how you liked your coffee. But I got a mug out for you!” He motions behind him at the coffee pot, which you’re surprised is still functional seeing as you seldom use it. “Sorry for rifling through your cabinets and stuff… I wanted to make breakfast for you as a way to thank you for letting me stay over. You don’t have much in the way of food though.”

“I’m shocked you even found coffee honestly.” You chuckle as you move to pour a cup of coffee for yourself.

“The shocking thing is the fact that you have coffee rather than food.”

“I-I never have time,” you protest. The smell rising from the pot entices you. It smells far different than whenever you’ve made it in the past but then again it’s Jungkook’s job to make coffee so he must know what he’s doing at least to some extent.

“Time to what? Eat?” His voice is a bit incredulous, and the accusation brings a pout to your lips.

“I work so late that I only ever eat dinner between shifts. I eat snacks throughout the day after getting breakfast at campus because I don’t have time to wake up even earlier than I do to make food for myself. I know it’s not a solid and valid excuse, but it’s the truth.” You shrug, digging through your cabinets for sweetener of some sort to no avail, then move for the fridge to get some milk. You’re too nervous to check the expiration date on the carton, although Jungkook saves you the trouble.

“It expired two and a half weeks ago.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, how about that?” You joke with a lilt to your tone. The look Jungkook sends your way is nothing short of pity. You settle for a cup of coffee without milk or sweetener. You half expect it to be more bitter than your outlook on life and yet when the hot liquid passes your lips, the taste is sweeter than expected.

“Special barista’s touch,” Jungkook comments when he sees your expression of shock. “But also… you need groceries.”

“I’m fine! Honest to god! I rarely eat at home anyways so any money I spend on groceries would be a waste.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. You think he’s going to send another pity filled glance your way, but he doesn’t. He instead downs the rest of his coffee in three gulps.

“I really shouldn’t stay longer than I’m welcome. I stripped the bed and put the sheets in your washer, but I wasn’t sure where you kept the detergent so I didn’t run it. I also put the couch back together and put it in place.”

“Wh-What?” You stutter, quick to glance around the living room. Sure enough, everything is put back in its original home, all evidence of Jungkook’s stay gone. “Oh wow, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve taken care of everything. Uh, there’s – there’s no rush to leave! I don’t mind. I mean, unless you need to go! In which case, yes absolutely go ahead.”

“I-I would love to stay. Really. Love it. Uh, but I-I have work in a few hours. I should, you know, get back and get ready and stuff.”

“Yes! Yea, absolutely. One hundred percent.”

“Exactly!”

“Yes, work. I mean, going to work. I have to go to work too. Later.”

“Wow, what a coincidence! I mean, fate. It’s fate, right?”

“Sure? No, coincidence. All a coincidence.”

“Obviously.”

“Definitely.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Uh, the weather is really great outside.”

“Really? I didn’t notice. I was too focused on you – I mean, talking to you. I was busy talking to you.”

“Yes! Talking. Like old pals.”

“Because we are totally old pals.”

“Oh my god, this is awkward.”

“Ah thank goodness I’m not the only one feeling it.” Jungkook exhales a shaky laugh before setting his now empty mug in the sink. He moves to clean it but you stop him.

“Leave it! I’ll clean it after I finish my cup. Okay? Don’t do anything else!”

“Sure, yea, wouldn’t dream of it!” He steps away from the sink, hands raised in defense. Rounding the counter, he lifts his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Thank you again. Seriously, I cannot stress it enough. Thank you so much for letting me stay over.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Again. I was happy to help.”

“Before I go–” Jungkook cuts himself off, thinking twice about the words about to leave his mouth. “You know what, nevermind. It’s not important.” He turns to the door and quickly twists the locks, then again, he hesitates and looks back at you. “Actually could I get your phone number?”

“My what?” You reiterate, face blank.

“Y-Your number?”

“Oh shit. That. Duh. What else would you be talking about? Yes, yea, sure.”

“So we can talk again. Like old pals would.”

“Wow, that’s is exactly what I was thinking. We’re just on the same wavelength or something.”

“Oh, like it’s fate?”

“Nope! Nice try though.” You reach for your phone tucked away in the waistband of your pants and toss it to Jungkook. “How about you put your number in and I’ll text you? Does that work?”

“Of course.” Jungkook taps away at your phone, inputting his number and tossing the device back to you in a matter of seconds. “I guess I’ll talk to you later? Have – have a good day.”

“You too! I mean yes, talk to you later. Good luck at work!”

“Thanks, you as well!”

You wave at Jungkook’s retreating form as he steps out the door. A moment later, it snaps shut and leaves you in an empty and silent apartment. You go to lock the door again, twisting the locks before turning back to the empty living room with a strange sense of loneliness. You should be used to this loneliness after living alone for so long and yet you forgot what you were missing out on when talking to Jungkook after waking up.

Waking up to someone. You haven’t had that in months. Talking to someone first thing in the morning. Drinking coffee with someone. Just being at home with someone.

You never thought you would miss the sensation, especially after your last roommate proved to be such a hassle, and yet Jungkook has left a rather large hole in your defenses and heart.

Of course, it’s only after you return to the sink and begin to wash dishes that you look down at your shirt.

You forgot to put on a bra after your shower.

And chose to wear the most sheer white tank top in existence.

Fucking brilliant.

☽     ☾

Despite exchanging phone numbers with Jungkook, the two of you don’t really talk all that often. You dropped a text a few hours after he left your apartment (ample amount of time so that you weren’t seeming too excited or as though you didn’t care), and he responded within ten minutes. After that though, you two seemingly forgot about each other. You went on with your life as though Jungkook never came into it. His little spiel about fate seems quite humorous looking back because you can’t imagine why something like “fate” would put him in your life only for him to leave so quickly after. Nonetheless, you don’t forget about his existence entirely.

Jeon Jungkook still exists to you, albeit solely in dreams and thoughts. You get the occasional wet dream about said man from time to time despite your personal vehemence before sleeping about how you do not want to have another dream about him. Your brain can’t seem to get the hint to stop though so they come as regularly as one would think: once a week.

In hindsight, it seems kind of odd and creepy to be dreaming so much about a man you met for less than 24 hours. You blame the fact that you haven’t been dicked down in a good eight or nine months. So you opt to do the only logical thing a person could do: hookups via dating apps. In all honesty, it is the most unsatisfying string of hookups in existence but it serves its purpose and drives the nagging sex dreams about Jungkook out of the picture. And once the dreams finally cease, you cease your relentless sex escapade.

That freedom must come to an end, as fate – or coincidence rather – would have it. Which brings you to now, a late Friday night at the bookstore where you are sorting through books mindlessly. Your store has always had a late-night policy since the location is so close to the university campus. Students apparently love coming in after eight o’clock, at least according to your boss. You rarely see a single customer after the clock strikes nine but you get paid to mill about the rows and read books to your heart’s content so the job isn’t as bad as it could be. It’s nearing midnight, however, almost time to close the store so you are spending your time making sure everything is in order. Your boss left an hour ago, leaving you with the keys and the task of closing the bookstore on your own.

Humming is your only company, a gentle and soft sound you sing to yourself as you work. The action occupies your mind so much that you don’t notice the ding of the door or the heavy steps of someone stepping inside. A shadow moves in your peripheral vision. You nearly jump out of your own skin, a loud shriek escaping your parted lips, and the newcomer flinches at the sound.

You pull away from the shelf to get a better look at him – and it is in fact a “him”, wearing all black from head to toe. Black combat boots bigger than your face, cargo pants tucked into the tops of the boots, a shirt that clings to the owner’s chest with too much gusto, and a thick leather jacket that shrouds his chest from your view. Dangling from the man’s hand is a helmet – a motorcycle helmet to be specific – and you finally drag your gaze up to his face.

“Jungkook?” A sound akin to disbelief passes after you utter the name. He blinks back at you with wide, doe-like eyes.

“Uh… hi?”

Well fuck. Your luck has officially run out. Right when you thought you had escaped his grasp for good, here he comes, waltzing in like he owns the place with a fucking motorcycle helmet as though tattoos and goddamn nipple piercings weren’t enough.

“I-I, what?” You struggle to form a coherent thought. The sheer effect his appearance has over you is embarrassing, and his outfit isn’t doing you any favors either.

“I’m really sorry for coming in so late, Y/N. I meant to come sooner but I had to get gas along the way and that took longer than expected.”

“No, no. That’s – it’s fine. I’m not – you’re ho–fine.”

“I wanted to drop by and grab a book or two, if that’s okay.” Jungkook’s voice trails off as he grows shy, free hand reaching up to scratch at his highly decorated ears. You didn’t even notice the jewelry hanging from each lobe in your shock, but you should’ve expected him to be pierced in places other than his nipples. Oh my god, Y/N, can you stop thinking about his nipples?

“That’s perfectly fine! What we’re here for after all. Can I, uh, can I help you find anything?” You offer as you step away from the shelf at your side.

“I’m looking for a Lovecraft collection actually. I haven’t been able to find one recently but maybe… maybe you know where I can find one?” Jungkook places his helmet beside the register, rubbing his hands together while glancing around the shop.

“We have quite a few actually! Only one or two out here in the front though. More in the back, but I can show you the ones we have on the shelves out here first?”

“Absolutely, yea, that sounds perfect.” He moves closer to you, and the second he’s in your general vicinity, the scent of coffee strikes your nose. Warmth emanates from his body despite the cold night air outside, and you already feel yourself losing the last shreds of sanity you’re clinging to. You step away, moving for the shelves at your side instead.

“Okay, so Lovecraft… That should be in the mystery/thriller section.” Your fingers trail along the books as you walk. Eyes scan each label and name before reaching the section in question. “What sort of collection are you looking for?”

“I’ve been looking for a complete collection, but most bookstores either don’t carry them or have limited collections.” Jungkook steps closer to your form. The scent increases tenfold, and you nearly choke on the overwhelming smell.

“Yea, yea, uh…” You shake your head, trying to clear your mind of the scent but it doesn’t leave. “Do you – do you smell that?”

“What? Smell what?” Jungkook’s eyes widen, bright irises gleaming down at you in wonder. “It just smells like books in here.”

“No, I… I smell coffee?”

“Coffee?” Jungkook purses his lips and glances around the shop. “I don’t smell anything except books.”

“That’s strange,” you mutter. “Well, anyway, here is – this is our Lovecraft collection on display. I believe we have more in the backroom but I don’t know what specifically.” Jungkook brings a long finger to trail over the books, moving from H to L in search of Lovecraft. He pauses over a book and pulls it out. You can’t keep your eyes from following the deft movements of his fingers, those very fingers invading many of your dreams in recent months.

“You know…” He starts as he cracks the book open. “They say that when you meet your soulmate, you smell the thing they like the most.”

“They also say that you hear silver bells.”

“And? Have you heard any silver bells?”

“Are you insinuating that we’re soulmates, Jungkook?” You ask, tone incredulous as you blink up at the taller man. He chuckles at your question.

“What’s your favorite thing, Y/N?”

“Chai tea,” you utter through gritted teeth. Jungkook hums at the comment but doesn’t say anything more than that. Your heart rate has picked up, a frantic beat that drums against your ribcage and fills your ears with the sound of blood rushing through your veins.

“Could I see the books in the back? These are more partial collections,” Jungkook says as he pushes the books back into their designated places on the shelf. You nod, making a quick motion for him to follow you. You go to the backroom often and frankly it’s nothing special – it’s just another room lined with bookshelves and dusty books – so when you flip the lightswitch and unveil the interior, you aren’t expecting Jungkook to exhale a gasp of surprise. “Wow.”

“What?” You inquire, glancing over the expression on his gentle features.

“There’s so many books back here. I didn’t know you had so many.”

“Ah, yea, the owner wanted to expand the shop but didn’t have the funds so he turned this room into a book room instead. It’s open to the public but most people choose to focus on the main portion of the store instead. Give me a second to figure out where Lovecraft is; we don’t organize these shelves the same way as the ones in the front.” You mill between the shelves, quickly scanning each one with darting eyes, and Jungkook trails after you without a word. “I, uh, I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle.” You attempt to make conversation in the hopes that it will both quell your racing heart and alleviate some of the awkward tension lingering between you.

“Oh? Yea, I kinda picked it up after quitting Taekwondo.”

“Is that when you started getting tattoos as well?” You ask. Jungkook coughs, the question obviously catching him off-guard. “S-Sorry if that was intrusive!”

“No, it’s okay! I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. But yes. I started getting tattoos around then. I guess it was a little rebellion but…”

“But?”

“Ah, nothing. It’s not important.” You come to a sudden halt in front of a shelf, and Jungkook must not see you stop because his body crashes into yours and nearly topples you over. You reach out to grab the shelf, bracing yourself on the wood. Jungkook slams his hands down on either side of your head, his hips brush your ass, and you have to bite down violently on your tongue to keep a whine from slipping out.

Silence lingers in the air. Neither of you moves. Heat radiates from Jungkook’s body, along with that damn coffee scent, and your heart has begun to beat at the speed of light. You’re sure that if one more incident occurs to raise it further, you will go into some form of cardiac arrest. That familiar itch between your legs rises. Jungkook’s hands leave the shelf. The heat disappears as he moves back and you exhale a shaky breath.

“I-I, uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter, continuing to face the shelf rather than him. If you turn around now, he might see how blown your pupils are, clear evidence of the effect he just had over you. “He-Here’s the rest of our Lovecraft collection.” You point to the books beside your head with shaky fingers. Before you have the chance to move out of his way, Jungkook opts to reach past your head and pull one of the books off the shelf. You press your thighs together with so much force that it hurts.

“This is the exact one I’ve been looking for!” He exclaims, tone bright and loud against your ears. You twist around to face him and look at the book in his hands. It’s an old one; spine greyed from constant use and pages yellowed from age. Nonetheless, Jungkook smiles down at it with a childlike wonder in his eyes. You cannot help but to laugh and smile along with him.

“How about that? Coincidence much?”

“No…” Jungkook trails off as his fingers trace the faded title on the book. “It’s fate.” You begin to sigh, ready to deny his ever insistent claims about fate, but his eyes flitter up to meet yours. Your words catch in your throat. The gleam in his darkened eyes is so intense that your chest clenches (along with your thighs – again).

“Jungko–” You don’t manage to get the name out. Instead, your breathing is cut short by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what is happening. Jungkook is kissing you. Kissing you. Now you actually do whine, a faint sound that reverberates against his soft lips. The book in his hands falls to the ground with a soft thud as he presses against you harder. The lines of the shelf dig against your back, but you cannot bring yourself to care much as Jungkook’s arms snake around your body and press you tighter against him. You drop your hands to his shoulders, bracing yourself on his form as he pushes you further against the bookshelf. His lips never cease their movement or pressure, a continued force that engulfs your core in heat.

It only takes a moment for his warm tongue to prod at your lips, soft yet domineering in its movements, and you quickly give way to the touch. You gasp into his mouth as his tongue moves over yours, the cool feel of metal greeting you. It takes a moment for realization to sink in but when it does, you just about melt against Jungkook. In one swift movement, his hands slip from your hips to your ass and lift you up. Your legs move around his waist by instinct, a pleased hum leaving his lips as you do.

His tongue retracts from your mouth, and he pulls away so you both can catch your breath. The tension lingers between you, silence carrying it, and you can't keep your eyes from trailing over his lips as he breathes.

"A-A tong... tongue piercing?" You huff out.

"Shush," he mutters, lips coming closer to yours again. You nearly meet him halfway but he hesitates. "What's your favorite thing, Y/N?"

"Wh-What?" You stammer, shocked by the sudden question. Lust clouds your thoughts, and you can barely think straight beyond wanting Jungkook to pin you down and fuck you senseless.

"What's your favorite thing?" He repeats. His fingers draw small circles against the skin of your back, hands slipping under the fabric of your shirt.

"Coffee. Fresh coffee." You murmur back. His head dips to your exposed neck, lips pressing against the skin there.

"And what's mine?"

"Huh?" Again, the question throws you off-guard, and you aren't sure exactly what he's asking you or why. "Your what?"

"What's my favorite thing?" His breath is hot against your neck. Your lashes flutter from the contact then his tongue slips out to drag against your skin. You still don't understand the question even after he repeats it, and it takes you a while to understand what he's trying to get at. You take in your surroundings, glancing over the shelves as though they'll help you figure out what he wants to hear.

"Lo-Lovecraft?" You stutter. Jungkook's teeth sink into your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to leave a mark for certain. "Books. It's books."

Jungkook pulls back to look you in the eye. His pupils are blown, nearly completely black from the lust. A smirk plays at his lips.

"Oh..." You trail off. Your hands sit loosely on his shoulders as the information sinks in.

“They say that when you meet your soulmate, you smell the thing they like the most.”

“They also say that you hear silver bells.”

"Y/N... I think you might be my soulmate," Jungkook whispers. His forehead falls against yours, and a breathy laugh leaves him. You don't know how to respond in all honesty. You've never believed in these sorts of things before, and considering the effect it had over your mother, you never wanted to put your trust into it all too much. So, rather than responding, you grip Jungkook by the nape of his neck and pull him closer to you. Your lips clash in a mess of skin and teeth. He nearly bites the tip of your tongue off when you collide, but it quickly melts into the same lust-filled passion from before.

"You talk too much," you murmur against his lips, earning you a laugh from him in response. He reconnects your lips without any further comments. His force takes you by surprise and knocks the breath from your lungs. Another light moan leaves you, and Jungkook eats it right up, filling all your senses with his presence.

Your fingers tug at the material clinging to his muscled body and push the leather jacket off his shoulders. He helps you along, discarding the layer on the floor with the book from before. Your shirt is next to go, his hands frantic at the hem. You part with a gasp as he pushes it over your head, only to meet again with the same level of fervor as before. His body is hard under you, wandering hands tracing unknown patterns along the black shirt still stuck to him. They linger on his nipples. Brushing over those little metal beads you spotted before, you lose your sense of reason and yank at the material in a desperate attempt to tear it off.

Jungkook chuckles against your mouth. He leans back and pulls the shirt off ever so slowly. Your eyes trail over his body under the yellow light, taking in every inch of bare skin before you before landing on those elusive little piercings. With hesitant fingers, you reach out and brush a light touch over them. Jungkook’s muscles instinctively clench under the touch. The pads of your fingers travel over to his arms next and trace the patterns of his tattoos all the way down to his wrists. Each tattoo is delicate and unique, so much ink along each arm that you can hardly see an inch of bare skin beyond the tattoos.

It’s fascinating, intricate and elegant yet harsh on the eye.

“Something on your mind?” He asks as your gaze fails to move.

“They’re beautiful,” you mutter as you bring your touch up his arms again. Goosebumps rise in your wake.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Huh? Why is that?”

“Because you’re going to see a lot more of them in the future.”

Lips part in shock at his bold words, the shy boy you met on the train gone and replaced by a lust-filled man who knows exactly what he wants. His lips come down against the column of your neck, massaging the skin under his tongue, while his hands work around your back and toy with the clasp of your bra. You can only throw your head back and bask in the pleasure washing over you.

Cold hits your breasts at the same time as your bra hits the floor. Nipples perked and waiting for attention, your chest is now bared to Jungkook. He leans back to take the sight before him in, and a low whistle leaves his lips as he rakes his eyes over you.

“Gorgeous. So so gorgeous,” he mutters more to himself than to you. The pads of his thumbs stretch out to tease at your perked nipples. You moan at the touch, his fingers squeezing and tugging. “How the fuck did I get so lucky? Lucky enough to have the most perfect person on the planet as my soulmate? Unbelievable.” You have no chance to respond because he dips his head towards your chest and takes one nipple between his lips, hand still working at the other one.

He pushes his thigh between yours, settling the muscle flush against your crotch, and you gasp at the doubled sensation of pleasure. With gentle pushes, he flexes his leg against your crotch, and you instinctively buck your hips up to meet his small thrusts.

Whines and moans fall from your lips like a chorus as Jungkook’s tongue worships your breast. The little bead sitting in the middle of his tongue rubs against your skin just right, bringing waves of pleasure down on you. You bring down your hands against his back, clinging to him and pulling him as close as possible. Your nails dig into his skin as he rocks against you, the obvious tent in his pants pressing up against your leg. All the while, you continue to bounce along his thigh. The sensation sends sparks throughout your entire body, clit twitching with each flex of Jungkook’s thigh. That combined with the attention he’s giving to your breasts makes your whole body feel like jelly.

“Ju-Jungkook, I-I–” You fail to complete the sentence, moans interrupting your train of thought. He doesn’t stop to listen to what you have to say; instead, his hips buck against yours. The pressure builds against your clit. Electric shocks of pleasure shoot through you. One of your hands trails down his back, leaving a path of red behind no doubt, and snakes around to cup his groin. A breathy moan reverberates against your skin, his hips jerking forward from the contact.

You struggle with his belt, trying to undo it and throw it aside as quickly as possible, but once it’s loose, you discard of it with ease. You have to pull your other hand from his back in order to pop the button and tug the zipper down. He sighs in relief as you tug the tight material away from his strained cock. You glance past his head of long hair to peep at his crotch, eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you see the sheer size of his bulge.

“Ju-ungkook, the-there’s no way – you aren’t gonna f-fit,” you stammer through the pleasure and moans. Jungkook pulls back as your words register, eyes meeting yours. You must be showing more concern than imagined because his brows immediately furrow at the sight of your expression.

“Hey, hey,” he says. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek, and you lean into the touch. “We don’t have to go all the way right now. We can take it slow until you’re comfortable.”

“Bu-But I… I want you,” you whisper, fingers coming to rest on his chest.

“And you can have me.” The words only serve to send another surge of heat to your core. “When you’re ready and comfortable.”

“O-Okay,” you mutter in response, eyes trailing the curve of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows. “I wa-wanna suck your cock.”

He groans at the words, hips instinctively bucking against you again. You release your grip on his waist and let your legs find the floor. It’s a good thing that you don’t have to stand long, because your legs nearly give out under you. You stay standing long enough to push Jungkook against the opposite bookcase, then drop to your knees before him. Face first with his bulge now, you’re more than glad that he told you to take it easy, because it’s even more daunting up close like this. Lust still stirs in your gut but now it’s coupled with anxiety. With shaking fingers, you dug the band of his underwear down, freeing his thick member. Jungkook hisses as the cold air hits him, but the hiss turns into a choked moan when you fold your fingers around his cock. He’s so thick that you can’t quite wrap your whole hand around him, nor does one hand come close to covering his whole length. Out of all the partners you’ve had the pleasure (or not so much) of being with, he is by far the biggest. It’s a bit daunting as you drop your lips to the head of his cock, but you quickly recover and push the sensation aside in favor of pleasuring him.

The tip of your tongue teases the slit of his cock, bringing the leaking precum into your mouth, and you slowly take him in inch by inch. You drag your tongue along each vein and curve of his member. The slow movements of your mouth draw a low whine from his lips. It encourages you to move faster, and you build up a slow speed, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. His breath quickens as your pace does. You pull off to unleash a string of spit at the base of his cock, letting you pump him without so much friction, and then take him back into your mouth with hesitation.

His hips buck against you, but you can tell that he’s trying to hold back from slamming into your mouth too hard. Part of you wants him to fuck your mouth with reckless abandon, just to feel him lose control and have his way with you, but his restraint is too strong at the moment. Your eyelids flutter as you gaze up at Jungkook, his thick cock stretching your lips in a way that has him groaning above you. His fingers find your hair and bunch it together in his grip. Slowly, still with the same amount of restraint, he helps you bob up and down on his dick as far as you can take it. He pulls back every time the tip of his member touches the back of your throat, but as his pace increases, your throat suffers constant abuse. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath and gasp for air. You don’t let him stop for long though and take him back between your lips after a few deep breaths of fresh air.

The grip on your hair falters as you swirl your tongue around his hard member, and his hand moves to the bookshelf, clinging to the wood as a string of curses leaves his lips. His voice is raspy and low. It sends pulses of heat straight to your core, and if you could, you would bring your own hand down between your legs and finger your drenched folds as you suck him off. Instead, you have to keep one hand braced on the dip of his hip and the other on the part of his cock your lips can’t reach.

His hips stutter in their half-hearted thrusts. His climax is coming soon, and as soon as you realize that, you work harder to lavish his cock with your tongue. You’re in the midst of pulling away from his member when his orgasm hits all of the sudden. Hot semen splatters across your chin and neck, a bit falls into your unsuspecting mouth, and drips from your chin onto your breasts. Jungkook releases a broken moan as he cums, head falling backward to watch the ceiling. The second he recovers from the orgasm, he tilts his head down and takes in your appearance. His half-hard member twitches in your grasp.

You do nothing except smirk up at him, fingers dragging across your chest to collect the cum decorating your skin. You smear some of it into your skin but scoop up more of it to push onto your tongue. Jungkook groans at the sight of you toying with his cum. He brings a hand down to cup your chin and lets his index finger run through the white strings across your face before fucking the cum into your mouth with two fingers. You lap at his fingers as though your life depends on it, the bitterness of his cum hot against your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t stop until all evidence of his cum is gone from your body.

“Move back,” he growls out. You scamper back, pushing yourself with the palms of your hands and dragging your ass against the cool wood floor. He lowers himself to the ground as well but keeps a moderate distance from you. Once you’re where he wants you, he stops you by placing both hands on your knees. It locks you in place and you blink at him in wonder. He doesn’t explain what on earth he’s doing, but you figure it out soon enough as he continues to move closer to your abdomen. Deft fingers loop around the band of your underwear and your shorts. Your core coils in anticipation, this very image beneath you the thing that has haunted your dreams for months.

Jungkook’s touch remains delicate as he tugs the articles of clothing off you in one fell swoop, tossing both to the side without care. You can feel your heart racing against the confines of your chest, his hot breath dances over your now exposed core, and he pushes your knees further apart to have better access. Two fingers ghost over the folds of your pussy, thick strands of arousal coming off as he moves across you. The touch is barely there but it still causes your whole body to spasm. Jungkook braces you against the floor with his left hand, pressing against your abdomen so that you sit still under him. Again, his fingers tease your sopping lips.

You release a high-pitched whine, twisting under him in attempts to get more contact out of the man, but he leans back instead. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

“Behave now, princess,” he mutters lowly. The timbre of his voice compels you to obey, and you go slack under his touch. “Good girl.” He rewards you with another touch, fingers pushing past the wetness of your folds and toying at your entrance. He starts slow; with one finger he pushes into your heat. Immediately you tighten around him, clenching your walls as he pushes all the way in. He wiggles the finger inside you a bit before deciding to slip another one into your heat. He nearly growls as you eagerly take the next finger, scissoring you open with as much restraint as he can manage.

“A-Ah, J-Jungkook, more. More,” you stammer out through the shallow thrusts of his fingers. “More, please. I ne-eed more. More.” Jungkook hums, cocking his head to the side as he smirks down at you.

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” he says, a teasing lilt to his tone that has you whining under him yet again.

“Pl-Please, please more. I need more, sir.” The title slips out before you can stop yourself, pleasure too heavy on your mind, and you can’t think beyond the fog of lust over you. Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up upon hearing the title, pupils growing in size even more if possible. He actually does growl this time; a low and animalistic sound coming from his chest. In one swift movement, he drags you closer to him, pins your body to the floor with his hand, and plunges another finger into your needy cunt.

“Fu-uck, you’re so pretty like this,” he growls as you whine at the sensation of his fingers plunging into you. He curls them inside you, brushing your sweet spot and causing you to bend off the floor. “So fucking needy.” You can’t say anything in response; the pleasure has taken over you so much that you’ve resorted to strictly gasps of air between moans. Jungkook continues fucking you open with three fingers, scissoring and stretching you in the best way possible. He brushes against your g spot with each thrust, and you can feel your high already quickly approaching.

You bring a hand down to Jungkook’s shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there in attempts to anchor yourself to reality. Your climax approaches like a wave, but right before it crashes over you, Jungkook retracts his fingers. You whine at the loss of warmth. He smirks up at you, eyes on yours as he slowly lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt. With the smallest kitten lick, he drags the flat of his tongue across your folds, picking up the threads of arousal as he moves. The ghosting sensation nearly sends you spiraling. You buck your hips up against his face; at least, you attempt to but his hand still pins you to the floor.

“You have to say please, princess,” he purrs, purposely letting the heat of his breath brush over your clit.

“Pl-Please. Please let me cum. Please, please, Jungkook. I need it,” you beg, embarrassment and shame gone.

“Please what?” He demands before blowing against your clit.

“Please, sir!” You spit out, trying to fight against his strength to no avail.

“There we go,” Jungkook chuckles with a pleased smile stretched across his lips. “Good girl.” He dips back towards your cunt, pushing your lips apart with two fingers, and presses his tongue into your heated core. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream of pleasure, the sensation of his tongue along with that dangerous piercing in the middle of it sending you so far into pleasure that you can’t move anymore. Jungkook carries you to your orgasm like that, dragging his tongue up your pussy to nip at your clit only two times before the crashing wave of an orgasm hits.

You barely register how his hands slip up to grasp at yours, letting your fingers interlock and cling to each other as you move through your orgasm. He pulls you under his body at the same time. Soft kisses brush your temple along with gentle coos and soft praises against the shell of your ear.

You both remain in that position for who knows how long, it feels like hours but you know that can’t be right. Nonetheless, by the time you recover from the brutal orgasm, you feel as though you’ve run an entire marathon. Chest heaving, you feel around for Jungkook’s head, slipping your fingers through his ombre locks and combing through the strands matted by sweat. It’s the softest and sweetest moment you’ve had after sex – even if the two of you didn’t go all the way. It’s both ironic and strange in your mind.

You’re lying naked on the floor of a bookstore under a tattooed and pierced barista who rides a motorcycle, but also who used to compete in Taekwondo on a national level. Never in a million years would you have ever said that was a possibility. Add that to the growing list of coincidences surrounding you and Jungkook.

Sitting next to a random stranger on the bus at one in the morning, falling asleep on his shoulder, having to get off at the same stop, finding out that you go to the same university, being in the same year as well as having the same major, working across the street from each other, bringing him to your apartment where you just happen to have a dresser full of clothes that fit him like a glove, having a pull-out couch where he can sleep along with a spare set of sheets for it, him always smelling like your favorite thing, you always smelling like his favorite thing, running into each other by some magic coincidence after months of not communicating, having the exact book he was looking for.

How many times can you call something a coincidence before it becomes fate?

You move your hands down Jungkook’s face, cupping his jaw and lifting his head so that you can look him directly in the eye.

“Jeon Jungkook…” You mutter, voice strained by your exhaustion. “I think this might be fate.”

☽     ☾

“Two,” you say after a sip of coffee. The liquid is hot on your tongue, coating your taste buds in the most pleasant way, and the man across from you scoffs at your comment.

“Two? Two out of ten? Are you out of your mind?” He asks incredulously. It’s almost adorable seeing Jungkook get so worked up over your comment, but you push that thought down in favor of sipping at the coffee again. In all honesty, it’s quite delicious; maybe the best coffee you’ve ever had, but you can’t tell him that. It would go to his head.

“Coffee is my favorite thing. I have to be harsh in my judging. Otherwise, it seems like I settle for all coffees, good or bad.”

“So two?”

“Hm… maybe three and a half?” You tease, the smile on your lips stretching against the ceramic mug in your hands.

“This is a personal offense,” Jungkook mutters, turning away from you. “I blame your shitty instant coffee packets. That’s the only reason it’s not good. If we were at the cafe, I would make you the best possible coffee in the universe.”

“That’s quite the promise, Jeon Jungkook.” You sigh against the mug, and a cloud of steam billows up from the liquid. It’s still early in the morning; the bright sunlight not quite peeking in through the curtains over your living room window. After your little “excursion” with Jungkook, you closed the bookstore and decided to head home on the train, but he told you that he couldn’t in good conscience let you go alone. Thus, he offered to take you on his motorcycle; however, you were quick to shoot that offer down thanks to the fear of riding the damn thing.

“Maybe some other time?” You had said, to which Jungkook shrugged and told you that he would go back on the train with you regardless after putting his bike in a safe place. Thus, yet again, the two of you rode the train to Station 45 and got off together, only to end up in front of your apartment door with hands ghosting by each other.

Even as you stumbled into your apartment in a fit of giggles, Jungkook’s lips merely ghosted past yours before he crashed on the couch without even bothering to pull the bed out. You opted not to push him to join you in the bedroom, too tired and nervous to pose the question.

Neither of you has mentioned what transpired in the bookstore the night before, and a large part of you is quite nervous to do so. Regardless, Jungkook doesn’t seem to harbor any awkwardness about the whole thing, which is reassuring to some degree.

Something in you wants more. You aren’t sure what more you want – you’ve gotten more than you deserve from Jungkook – but you can’t help but to feel greedy when it comes to him.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks after seeing your blank expression. You purse your lips, debating whether to answer the question truthfully or not, but end up shaking your head in denial instead.

“Nothing much. It’s funny, you know.”

“What is?”

“It’s Saturday morning. We must have a knack for meeting each other on Fridays. Is that one of your fate things?”

“Did you not say you thought it was fate?”

“I take it back,” you huff over your coffee, sending a wisp of steam in his direction. The emotion that flashes across Jungkook’s eyes almost resembles hurt. For a moment, the stable ground underneath you quakes and trembles.

“Ah, yea… I forgot you aren’t one for that sort of thing,” Jungkook mutters. His thumb runs along the edge of his own mug. Silence hangs in the air between the two of you.

It only took you four words to ruin not only the calm ambiance between you but also Jungkook’s pleasant mood. He glares down at his coffee, eyes glaring such an intense daggers that it frightens you.

“I was joking…” You mutter in attempts to patch the situation.

“Except you weren’t,” Jungkook says in response, chin jerking up so that he can direct that deadly glare at you now. Your breath catches in your throat. “I’m sorry. That came out harsher than I meant for it to.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter. “I deserved it.” Jungkook doesn’t deny your words, which only serves to make you feel worse about the whole situation. Rather, he redirects the conversation to something new.

“Why are you so damn adamant? Even when there are ten thousand pieces of evidence showing that it is real you still deny it. Why?”

You drag your tongue over the front of your teeth, neglecting to answer the question at first. Jungkook waits, however, in silence for a response from you, and you slowly realize that you can’t back your way out of this.

“I-I… I just don’t believe in it, okay?”

“That’s bullshit. You wouldn’t admit to it being fate if you didn’t think for a sliver of a second that it was real.”

“Well, I take it back. It’s not real, and I don’t believe in it. Fate is–” You stop yourself from spewing the words, knowing that what you might say will hurt both you and Jungkook. He doesn’t let you off that easy though and continues to prod for the information regardless.

“Fate is what? I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from, Y/N. I truly – honestly and truly – believe that you are my soulmate. I believe in fate, I don’t believe this is a coincidence, and I know that you must be my soulmate. I know you think it’s stupid and it’s all a joke to you but… I’ve heard the silver bells, I know my favorite thing in the universe is books, and I know that you smell like books every single time I’m around you.”

“Except you can’t possibly know that!” You counter. You push the mug in your hands down, letting it slam against the marble with a clatter, and hot coffee splashes over the edge. “You can’t know that! You don’t know what you heard. For fuck’s sake, it could’ve been some random ass kid with a bell on his backpack. You don’t know that I always smell like books because you’ve only been around me what? Two? Three? Maybe four times? That is not enough for you to go around claiming that I am your soulmate!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking insistent about it being a lie, you would realize how ridiculous you sound!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Me?” You hiss through gritted teeth. “I am the one who sounds ridiculous? Well, I’m fucking sorry that I don’t feed into pathetic children’s stories that are nothing more than stupid little lies parents can tell their kids so they’ll sleep at night! Fate isn’t real, soulmates aren’t real, and you are the one who sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous because you are insisting that silver bells and the smell of books is what determines your one and only for the future!”

Jungkook is stunned into silence at your rant. You hardly realize that tears are streaming down your cheeks until you stop speaking. Jungkook sets his own mug down and leans across the counter, but you slap his hand away with a choked sob.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you spit before drawing your arms tight around your chest. “If you are so damn desperate to why I know that fate is a farce, then I’ll tell you. My mother sacrificed everything in her life for fate. Her first husband, her job, her home – everything. She gave up everything to move halfway across the world and be at the job fate had supposedly chosen for her. Divorced her first husband to do so, leaving me without a father for years until she met her supposed soulmate six years later. She married him in less than four months, then proceeded to be miserable and unhappy throughout the entire marriage because her supposed soulmate was a piece of shit. And after she got another divorce, she was fired from her dream job that fate had handed to her. She fucking put everything on the line for fate, and what did it give her in return? Two ruined marriages, getting fired, and then to wrap up the whole miserable package she was hit head on by an eighteen-wheeler on the highway. Even on her damn deathbed, she still looked me in the eye and said she was fucking happy with everything fate had given her. So tell me how the hell I’m supposed to put all my faith in fate when all it’s done is give the people I love a shitty hand?”

Jungkook’s lips snap together, jaw clenching so hard that you can see the strain along his face. His gaze falls away from yours and lands on something on the counter. You can’t find it in you to care about what he’s looking at; instead, you rub at your tears in desperate attempts to hide them. Jungkook doesn’t speak as you try to pull yourself together. He stands stunned into silence for a good five minutes before shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Without a word, he takes his still full mug of coffee and pours it down the drain, not even bothering to wash it out before stepping away from the sink. The way he avoids your stare, ducks away from you so as to miss looking at you entirely, hurts more than you wish.

He picks up his jacket from the couch, slinging it around his shoulders, and moves for the door. For a split second, you think he’s going to stop, look back at you, maybe say something in response. At least something. Anything.

He doesn’t. Instead, he twists the handle and steps out into the hallway. The door falls shut behind him, a sharp snap that feels like a knife in your chest. You can do nothing more than stare at the spot where he just stood and grind your teeth together to keep from breaking down in tears again.

How long did it take for things to fall apart this time? If fate exists, then she truly is a cruel mistress, and you don’t want her to be your mistress any longer.

☽     ☾

Since that awful morning you shared with Jungkook, you haven’t seen him or spoken to him. No late-night train rides, visits to the bookstore, not a single word from him via the phone – it’s as though he never existed in your life. Perhaps it’s better that way, but things still feel unfinished in your mind. There was no closure; hell, Jungkook didn’t even utter a word to you after you tried explaining your view of things. Although you should have been a bit more gentle and understanding of his views as well…

Nonetheless, life goes on as though Jeon Jungkook never stepped foot in it. At least, on the outside it does, but on the inside, you are struggling to push any thought of him aside. Your less than proper dreams have returned – of course – but they don’t leave you high and dry anymore. Rather, the end in a cloud of fire with Jungkook accusing you of everything under the sun until you wake up with a start.

That should’ve been the first sign that something was wrong. However, you neglected to pay any attention to the frequency of your nightmares until they started impeding on your sleep schedules and subsequently your work and school performances. Apparently, falling asleep at the cash register isn’t quite “work appropriate”. Thus you started taking melatonin as a supplement for the countless nights spent lying awake in bed and staring up at the dark ceiling without any thoughts in particular.

It only served one purpose: drawing out your nightmares even longer.

Frankly, there is no winning in this situation, so here you are three months later standing in the bookstore and thinking about the last time Jungkook was here.

“Oh boy, I can sense the anger radiating from all the way over here.”

You level the speaker with a stony glare, but he laughs in response, the ding of the door chiming along with his all too cheery laugh.

“What was it this time? Get stood up right before the good part?”

“Oh take a stick and shove it up your ass, Seokjin,” you counter, shoving the book in your hands back onto the shelf so hard that the case shakes.

“Hm, I’d be down for that, not gonna lie. But anyways I smell baggage, and about 170 pounds of it.”

“Excuse me?” You ask. You finally turn to face your coworker, and he just smiles back at you, full lips stretched wide.

“Did you most recent boy toy ditch you?”

“You’re insufferable, Kim Seokjin.”

“And you are quite attractive when you’re angry at me. It reminds me of the good old days.” Seokjin sighs at empty air, blissfully staring up at the ceiling.

“What? The whole three times you made me orgasm?” You bite under your breath, but Seokjin hears your words anyway.

“Oh, don’t undermine yourself, Y/N. As I recall, you were screaming my name in pleasure a lot more than that.”

“Maybe in your dreams.”

“Oh, to dream of the devilish vixen that is Y/N L/N. Mm, I wonder if the sex dreams would be as kinky and hot as your daydreams about your mystery man.”

“Are you just going to pester me left and right? Or is there a purpose for your annoying chatting?”

“There is, there is. Indeed, a method to the madness. And sadly no, I do not want to fuck you again. It’s nothing against you but I find myself rather stable and happy at the moment. The extra baggage that you’re dragging with you would not do well for me.”

“Oh, is that so? Kim Seokjin? Satisfied with life? A miracle truly.”

“You know, your mystery man visits incessantly. If he didn’t buy so many books, I would think he’s obsessed with you,” Seokjin comments, tone light and airy. He says the words as though it’s the most normal thing in the world. You stare at him, eyes wide, but he just continues scanning books at the register without a care.

“He what?”

“Hm? Did I say something?”

“You fucker,” you hiss, spit nearly flinging from your lips as you speak. Seokjin cackles.

“I fucked you, yes. But anyway, he must have terrible luck because he always comes on the days when you aren’t here.”

“No… luck has nothing to do with it.”

A sigh leaves Seokjin’s lips, and he sets a pile of books to the side. For a moment, he just stares at you with wide and perceptive eyes without saying anything. You nearly look away but it feels too much like defeat so you maintain the stare.

“Y/N.”

“Seokjin.” You mimic the serious tone of his voice in attempts to mock him. Rather than reacting as he normally would, he stays still, dark eyes unblinking.

“What did you do this time?”

“This time? Wow, you have so little faith in me–”

“I have faith that you fuck things up.” The words shut you right up, and the tension in your shoulders drops. “Something happened between the two of you, didn’t it?”

“What happened was that I had something fucking perfect right in front of me and I still managed to fuck it up. If fate really does exist, I fucking hate its plans for me.”

“If you truly didn’t believe in fate, you wouldn’t say that.”

“I don’t need fate to help me know what’s right and wrong in my life.”

“Obviously you do because fate put your biker boy in your life.”

“And very swiftly took him right out of it.”

“Had you not fucked it up, then that wouldn’t have happened,” Seokjin chimes in again, side-eyeing you with pursed lips. He leans away from you, almost expecting the book you hurl his way, but it makes contact with the wall rather than his head. “Excuse me, ma’am! You are at an off the wall eight right now, I’m gonna need you to calm down to an icy seven please and thank you!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what path fate wants me to take? This isn’t some fucking fairy tale!”

“Listen, Y/N.” Seokjin plants his hands on the counter, shoulders shifting as he glances around the bookstore before bringing his gaze back to you. “Do you remember that poem?”

“That poem?” You reiterate. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than “that poem”, Seokjin.” A sigh escapes you, and you’re just about ready to go smack Seokjin upside the head when he continues.

“Just hush for a second, please. God, I swear you never let a man finish.” You yank another book off the shelf and poise to chuck it at his head again. He’s too close to the window for you to throw it this time though, so you regrettably have to put the book back on the shelf.

“Kim Seokj–”

“The poem about getting back up after you’ve fallen and can’t get up or something like that? Or maybe it was about not quitting? I can’t quite remember…”

“What on earth is the point you’re trying to make with this?”

“It’s – listen, Y/N. Sometimes we have to take several steps back in order to move forward in the right direction. Sometimes we see the road most taken and decide that that’s the one we have to take, even though we’re supposed to take the road not taken instead. Sometimes – even when we really don’t want to – we have to leave the past behind. You don’t ask a flower to grow when it’s surrounded by weeds, do you? Even if those weeds have been there for as long as the flower can remember. In order for a flower to grow, you have to take away the weeds. I’m not telling you that you have to burn the weeds to the ground. But… Y/N, I know you. I know how much your heart has been hurt in the past. But I also know that your heart – a flower of its own – is surrounded by weeds. If you take them away, set them aside, lock them up, just get rid of them for now, you can grow. You are holding yourself back so much so that every time you try to take a step forward, you just get shot further back.”

“I hate you,” you mutter. No matter which way you look at it, Seokjin is right. He has a knack for saying things like that, always has, but this time it hits a bit different. You don’t know how to express your gratitude, but the smile he sends your way shows that he already knows how you feel.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He hums as he returns to his pile of books, prepping another stack for scanning. “Oh! Before I forget, little lover boy left something with me. He asked me to give it to you, so…” Seokjin trails off as he extends a thin book in your direction. You move towards him slowly, wary of the item he’s holding, and he laughs at your suspicious movements. “Quit being so weird, Y/N! It’s a book!”

You retrieve the book from his grasp, thumbing over the cover. 101 Famous Poems… Why did he want to give me this of all things?

“You’re staring at it as though it kicked a puppy. Damn, Y/N, you’re more savage than I remember.”

You scoff at Seokjin’s comment and turn away, heading back towards one of the tables in the back. You lower yourself on one of the chairs even as Seokjin protests and claims that it isn’t time for your break yet. The second you put the spine of the book on the table, it falls open to a dog eared page. You blink down at the paper, mind almost completely blank for a moment, and when you jerk back to reality, you still aren’t sure if you can believe your eyes.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost… Kim Seokjin I swear…

“Hey!” You call out to your coworker. He glances over at you over the stack of books. “Did you look at this before giving it to me?”

“Look at what?” Seokjin inquires. Even from a distance, you can spot a slight smile playing at his lips. You begin to call him out and complain, but he continues speaking before you have the chance. “He seems like a decent kid actually. Good taste in poetry, and he seems to have the same message for you that I did. What’s it the poem says? Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by. What comes after that bit?”

“And that has made all the difference,” you murmur more to yourself than to Seokjin. Your eyes trail over the pale pages of the book again, drinking in every word as though it’s a personal message from Jungkook himself.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

It’s a subtle message, one hidden under layers of nuances and mysteries, but you wouldn’t expect anything less from a man who loves Lovecraft with such a burning passion. The corners of your lips quirk up as you think of the thrill in his eyes upon finding the collection.

“Seokjin,” you say all the sudden, standing up from the chair and looking over at the man in question.

“Yes? Did you have another coincidental revelation?” He inquires, seemingly unbothered by your sudden movements.

“No.”

His eyebrows shoot upwards, lips quirk into a strange frown, and he taps away at the register as you move for the door of the bookshop. You snatch your jacket off the coat rack, slinging it over your shoulders in haste and pushing the small book of poems between your coat and shirt.

“I’m taking the road not taken.”

“Ew, you’re so cheesy. It’s gross. Little lover boy better make sure that grossness stops or else we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Do you ever shut up, Kim Seokjin?”

“Only when you’re going down on me!” He calls after you as you step out the front door. You nearly spin on your heel to knock him upside the head but a customer steps past you to go inside. Instead, you grumble under your breath, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket when the cool autumn airs hits your skin. For a moment, you refuse to move.

The building across the street looms before you, daunting even in its unassuming appearance, but it’s not what is on the outside that is terrifying you. Rather, the person inside who will hopefully be there. If he isn’t there then maybe you’re saving yourself the trouble. However, something tells you that fate will have something to say about that.

With quick steps, you move across the crosswalk along with a crowd of students. The closer you get to the cafe, the more terror builds up inside of you, and you nearly decide to turn around and leave well enough alone. Still, something tugs you towards the cafe, something you can’t ignore, and you pull the handle of the glass door.

Warm air greets you along with the overwhelming scent of coffee. Bells ding above you, and you glance up at the top of the door. Three silver bells hang from red thread just beside the corner of the door, jingling on and on as the door swings back shut.

Silver bells and red thread… how cheesy. You exhale a deep sigh, cheeks puffing out with the motion, then move for the cash register. There is no need to look around for Jungkook, his clear voice rings loud in your ears. He’s standing behind the register, taking the order of a customer in front of you. Laughing, smiling, making jokes – it’s all so different from the last time you saw him, and oddly it causes the pit of anxiety in your gut to sink further.

The girl in front of you laughs along to some joking quip Jungkook makes, hands folding behind her back in an obvious attempt to push her chest in Jungkook’s direction. It shouldn’t bother you. It shouldn’t make you feel any sort of way. You shouldn’t be bothered in the slightest, and yet here you are feeling jealous.

She steps aside a moment later, which is good for your unnecessary jealousy but not good for the anxiety in your stomach. You step closer to the counter with hesitant steps. Jungkook’s eyes are still stuck on the register, tapping away at the screen with a small smirk playing at his lips. Meanwhile, you can’t peel your eyes off him. A black turtleneck clings to his body like a second skin, dark brown apron tied over it so tight that it strains against his chest. Earrings dangle from his ears in multiple places; he’s definitely gotten more piercings since you last saw him and it happens to suit him quite well.

“How can I help you today?” He asks with a typical clear voice. He doesn’t look up at you quite yet, eyes still set on the register. A sad smile plays at your lips.

“I, uh, someone once told me that they could make me the best coffee in the universe here?” You trail the words off into a question, tone hesitant because the second the first word leaves your lips, Jungkook’s chin snaps up. He looks you in the eye, doe eyes wide from either shock, disbelief or both.

“Y/N…” His tone becomes quiet, so faint that you almost have to lean in to hear him. “I thought I smelled books.” He laughs to himself, but it sounds as though he is mocking himself for the words.

“And I thought I heard silver bells when walking in so…”

“You haven’t changed one bit, have you?”

You purse your lips at the question before tugging the book he left for you out from under your jacket.

“Actually,” you start as you set the book down on the counter. “I changed paths.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow the book, watching it slide across the counter and closer to him. His lips part. “Y-You–”

“Something about taking the road not taken. A bit cheesy, but still… meaningful.”

Jungkook’s lip quivers as he struggles to find the words to respond to you properly. There isn’t much to say, and if the right words are there, you certainly don’t know what they are. Anxiety bubbles away in your gut, no thanks to Jungkook’s minimal and unreadable expressions.

“Best coffee in the universe coming right up,” he says after a tense moment of silence. Now it’s your turn to fail to respond, eyebrows shooting up as he speaks. “And don’t worry. It’ll be on the house.”

You smile, and Jungkook mirrors the expression before looking down at the register and tapping away at the screen.

“Does the coffee come with a side order of fate?” You ask, bringing a teasing lilt to your tone. Jungkook releases a huff of laughter.

“That depends on whether the buyer believes in it.”

“She was told in a variety of creative ways that clinging to the past won’t let her grow.”

“Is that so?” Jungkook inquires. Despite the levelness of his voice, you can see the smallest hint of dampness in the corners of his eyes.

“Very poetic, actually. You can’t ask a flower to grow when it’s surrounded by weeds.”

“Beautiful.” Jungkook stops his work at the register, glancing up at you. “There’s always a possibility that… maybe the flower doesn’t quite want to let go of the weeds though.”

“Well, I think this flower really wants to give fate a proper chance. Herself. Not because of what happened in the past or what happened to people around her. Fate gave her a good thing. She wants to pursue it this time.”

“What an interesting turn of events,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. A small laugh escapes right after. “A very pleasant and happy turn of events though.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, struggling to find the words, and Jungkook just keeps smiling at you like nothing else in the world exists. Behind you, someone clears their throat, and you jolt into action. Stepping away from the counter, you duck over to a booth in the corner of the cafe, eyes trailing over Jungkook all the while. He exchanges the same longing stare as you move, only turning back to the customer in front of him when she begins speaking.

You aren’t sure what any of this means. Yes, you admitted to believing in fate, maybe even soulmates, but there are still so many uncertainties swirling in the waters around you. For a moment, you wonder if this is how your mother felt. You’re quick to squash that thought though.

Jungkook disposes of his customer rather quickly, turning to a coworker and exchanging places with him. Once he has his hands on one of the coffee pots, he turns to you, eyes dancing with a playfulness you can see from all the way across the room.

He dances along to a mesmerizing song as he works, an inaudible one that you can only see in the way he moves from counter to counter, machine to machine, a smile playing at his lips all the while. As you watch him dance from place to place, you silently wonder how you could ever believe it wasn’t fate that brought you here. That allowed you to meet Jeon Jungkook.

He moves with delicate grace, so at home in his surroundings that you nearly cry from the sight of watching him so happy. Never in your life have you felt so at peace. You thought that the bookstore would always be your happy place, the home away from home, an irreplaceable lover, and yet in less than five minutes, Jungkook has wedged his way into your heart. He plays at your heartstrings as though they’re an instrument, dancing along to his created melody without even knowing it. How could you ever think that this wasn’t where you were meant to be?

“Fate…” you mutter to yourself. With shaking and hasty fingers, you whip your phone out and pull open a new browser. It’s a quick search, a hastily typed “what are soulmates”. You aren’t sure why you searched that specifically or what came over you; maybe you just needed some sort of confirmation that this is what you’re feeling. Maybe you need just an explanation to tell you what is going on with your heart and head. Yet, deep down you know that this is not something the internet can answer. No matter how many times you ask or how many people you ask – you will never find an answer that satisfies you. So the first result that glares up at you from the browser doesn’t help one bit.

A soulmate is someone who gets you and understands you on a deeper level. Connected in mind and heart, respect for each other, unconditional love no matter what. Complete and total understanding. Comfort knowing that you can always be honest and be yourself around someone. Someone who understands your thoughts and emotions. Someone who sticks by your side through thick and thin. A soulmate is someone you never knew you needed, yet once they come into your life, you know you can’t live without them.

You pull your gaze away from the screen, heart beating so fast against the confines of your ribcage that you feel close to a heart attack. Jungkook doesn’t stand behind the counter anymore when you look over there. In a flash of black and brown, someone comes up on your right and sets a pristine white mug on the table before you.

“You were so focused on your phone that I thought I was going to scare you,” he jests, nodding down at your device. You hastily flip it over in attempts to hide the search. Jungkook turns to leave the table but stops himself just before walking away. “I, uh, I hope the coffee is good. And after I’m done with my shift – you know, maybe, well, we could–”

“Yea, yes,” you interrupt, knowing what he’s intending to ask before he says it. “Yes, Jungkook. I would love to.”

“Yea, cool. Great. Yes. Amazing, uh, my shifts ends – it ends in about 40 minutes.” He motions behind him, jerking his thumb in the direction of the counter.

“Oh, great! Wonderful, yea. That’s perfect.”

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

Jungkook backs away from your table, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he goes.

“I’m fine!” He proclaims while steadying himself.

“Totally!” You laugh. Jungkook’s cheeks flush dark red, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Jeon! Get back behind the counter! We don’t pay you to flirt with customers!” Someone calls out from behind the counter. Jungkook’s blush deepens if possible, and he rushes to get back to his station without any further interruptions. You can’t keep from laughing as you watch the man go, so boyish in his actions and movements despite having such an intimidating appearance between the tattoos and piercings.

You lift the mug of coffee he left for you, daring to peek over to the counter again. Jungkook has his stare on you yet again. Once you lock gazes, he ducks away in embarrassment. You laugh against the ceramic, stirring up a cloud of steam, then take a hesitant sip of the dark liquid.

It tastes like nothing you’ve ever tasted before. You have had a great variety of coffees in your lifetime – it’s your favorite thing for a reason, so you are somewhat obliged to drink it religiously – but never have you had a coffee like the one Jungkook made for you. Sweet and bitter at the same time, perfectly balanced with each sip you take. The liquid is completely smooth, just as water is, and yet the coffee tastes nothing like water in the slightest. It is by far the best coffee you’ve ever had, and you’ve only had two sips.

With a small smile on your lips, you pull your phone back up and swipe away to open your messages with Jungkook. The two of you haven’t texted in months so you have to scroll down a bit to find him, but once you do, you send a simple message that you know he’ll appreciate.

Ten out of ten.

You watch for a reaction from Jungkook, and it comes a moment later when he digs through his apron to pull out his phone and check the screen. Bright eyes trail over the screen then over to you. A blinding smile comes next, nose scrunched up as his cheeks round. You return the smile with one of your own then return to sipping at the coffee.

A strange sense of peace lingers in the air. Instinct tells you to be wary of it, fear what might go wrong, and prepare for the worst. Part of you wants to be defensive and assume that things will fall apart in seconds as they did last time, as they did with your mother time and time again. But a larger part of you cannot be bothered to care about those things at all. You want to sit still and bask in the moment, the scent of coffee around you and warmth in your bones.

“Perfect,” you mumble against the rim of the mug. “You’re absolutely perfect, Jeon Jungkook.” Without another word, you return to the browser on your phone, closing out of the tab without bothering to look at the results any longer.

Instead, you busy yourself by staring out the window on your left, watching the cars and pedestrians rumble by without a care in the world. You don’t know how long you sit there, but it must be long enough for Jungkook to finish his shift because sometime later, the man slides into the booth across from you. His brown apron is gone, leaving him only in the dastardly black turtleneck that hugs his body far too much. Now that the apron is gone, you can see the hint of the piercings underneath the fabric. If he notices your lingering stare, he chooses not to comment on it; rather, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

“So,” he starts as he brings his elbows to rest on the table. “What do you, uh, what do you feeling like doing?”

“Um… I don’t know.” You purse your lips, blinking back at him. Your nails drum against the side of your mug, the coffee inside completely gone now. He glances down at it as you make the sound and smiles at the sight of an empty cup.

“I told you I made the best coffee in the universe.”

“Oh, hush. I’ve had better.”

“That’s a lie.”

“How would you know?”

Jungkook leans across the table all the sudden, lips coming dangerously close to yours, and you hardly have time to lean away. He grips your chin between two fingers. Eyes dart over your stunned expression. You see the glint of metal as his tongue pokes out again. Hot breath ghosts over your lips, and you begin to lean in to close the gap, but Jungkook pulls away. He leans back as though nothing happened, the only evidence of his games being the coy smirk stretching across his lips.

“That’s how I know.” He folds his arms over his chest as you let out an indignant huff. “I wanna show you something though.”

“What’s the catch?” You ask, seeing the hesitance in his eyes.

“Well, there is no catch… not necessarily, at least. It depends on what you call a catch.”

“You’re quite the catch, Jeon Jungkook,” you tease. Jungkook coughs on his own saliva before choking out a laugh.

“Not that kind of catch. I need you to ride my motorcycle.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Y/N, what even–”

“I’m joking!”

“What kind of euphemism would that even be?”

“The kinky kind, I don’t know.”

“Oh my god, you’re a mess.”

“I’m a mess? I’m sorry, have you looked in the mirror recently?”

“It’s called looking rugged. The ladies love it.”

“Oh, and what ladies are you trying to impress out here?”

“Well I’m only after one, and I think all I have to do to impress her is flex my chest a bit. She seems a bit fascinated by what’s under my shirt.”

It’s your turn to choke, and you look down at the table as a fit of coughs falls over you. Jungkook all but cackles at your reaction, slapping the table and making the mug quiver under his touch.

“Please,” he says once he recovers from the bout of laughter. “I’ll give you my helmet to make sure you stay safe.”

“Ugh, it seems I have no choice, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, Mr. Jeon now? I think I prefer ‘sir’.”

“Shut the fuck up! Oh my–”

“I’m teasing and you know it!”

“You sound like my damn coworker,” you mumble, arms coming to rest over your chest.

“Oh? Seokjin, was it? I think I met him. He had a lot to say about you.” Your expression melts into a frown.

“Please tell me he didn’t mention anything unsavory.”

“Are there unsavory things to mention? Do I sense a secret past, Y/N? Maybe I’ll have to stop by again and ask for more details.”

“No! Nope, not needed. Did I say unsavory? I meant, uh, unsatisfactory. As in… work-related. Unsatisfactory things about my–my work performance.”

“Your work performance. Ah, I see, I see.”

“Haha, yep. You know me. Always worried about my work performance.”

“Oh, of course, you are. Such a diligent worker never wants to be left with unsatisfactory reviews.” Jungkook chuckles, sliding out of the booth to get back to his feet. The gleam in his eyes tells you that you two are not talking about the same thing, and Seokjin most definitely shared more details than necessary when talking with Jungkook.

“Remind me to beat Seokjin up next time I see him,” you groan as you pull yourself to your feet as well. Jungkook merely smiles down at you but doesn’t say anything else. Hesitant fingers reach for yours, bridging the small gap, and he links his fingers through yours. The tips of his ears burn red with embarrassment, or perhaps it’s nerves, and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as he takes hold of your hand.

“S-Sorry,” he says upon seeing your gaze on your linked hands. He starts to pull away but you stop him by squeezing his hand tighter.

“No, no. It’s okay. I… I’m comfortable with this.” You squeeze his hand a little tighter. The reassurance spurs Jungkook on, and he tugs you towards the door. Cold air hits you in a large gust, but Jungkook keeps moving forward without a care in the world. You let him pull you along until you round the corner, a parking lot coming into view. A motorcycle sits parked next to the curb along with a helmet strapped in place near the handlebars. Without Jungkook telling you, you know who it belongs to, and he confirms it when he brings you closer to it.

“Okay, so it can be a bit scary for first time riders,” he explains, letting go of your hand. He releases the helmet’s straps and holds it in front of him. “All you have to do is sit still and hold on tight. I think you’ll be able to manage both those, right?”

“Yea, yea. Easy. I can do that.” Jungkook smiles at your response and places the helmet atop your head. It slides on with ease, a bit big for you, but seeing as its Jungkook’s helmet, that much makes sense. He locks it in place with the straps then pops the visor open.

“You look cute in my helmet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“It’s the truth though. You look so small and adorable.”

“Hm, do I smell a size kink?”

“Ouch, right through the heart. I can’t deny that though.” You weren’t expecting that answer from him. He turns away too quickly for you to comment on it or even choke out your embarrassment. “Alright, I’m going to get on first. You can climb on as soon as I pop the brake and steady the bike, okay?”

You nod a few times, watching him move carefully. You honestly weren’t that scared of riding the damn thing until now, because watching it wobble under Jungkook’s weight is a bit unsettling for certain, especially seeing as you are about to add to that weight.

“Okay, you can go ahead and get on now.” He motions to the space behind him. You stay rooted to the spot for a moment, unsure of how to approach the motorcycle or even get on. Jungkook notices your hesitation in an instant. He props the brake again and climbs off, moving over to you with a light smile. In one swift movement that has you squealing, he lifts you and places you directly on the back of the bike. He climbs on after making sure that you are securely seated, settling back into the main seat in front of you.

The engine roars to life. The sound causes you to jerk forward, arms folding around Jungkook’s chest in a heartbeat, and you squeeze yourself against him. His chest reverberates as he chuckles. The vibrations send surges of relief through you. You press your head against his muscled back which proves difficult thanks to the helmet shrouding your head, eyes fall shut, and you do your best to focus on the feeling of his warmth rather than the lurching sensation that happens next.

“You’re going to want to hold tighter than that,” Jungkook calls back at you. You do as asked without thinking twice, gripping his body so tight that you fear he may not be able to breathe properly. He seems satisfied with your hold though, and the motorcycle slowly moves. You dare to crack an eye open as the motion speeds up. Even through the haze of the visor, you can see all the cars, people, and buildings whizzing by. Strangely enough, the faster the motorcycle moves, the more secure you feel. Cold air breezes through your hair although Jungkook blocks a majority of the wind. It’s a strangely freeing and relaxing feeling. You would never want to be the driver yourself – that seems like much more stress and anxiety than you could handle – but just riding and enjoying the feeling of the air and world whipping past you is more than enough.

The drive, however, is over before you know it. Within minutes (or what seems like minutes, rather), Jungkook pulls the motorcycle into a new parking lot, swerving into an empty space with ease. He climbs off first, popping the brake before reaching around to help you stand up. Your legs feel a bit like jelly, and they nearly give out upon touching solid ground again. Jungkook holds you up the entire time, helping you undo the clasps of the helmet, and once he slides it off your head, he secures it to the bike as it was before.

You finally take a moment to drink in your new surroundings. A large building looms before you along with a myriad of other buildings all around it. It reminds you a bit of your own apartment complex, and you’re assuming that’s just what this building is too. Which begs the question: why did Jungkook bring you to supposedly his apartment?

A warm hand slips into yours again, and you instinctively grip it tighter, letting Jungkook tug you towards the entrance without any explanation.

The warmth of the inside air is welcome and brings goosebumps across your skin within seconds. There’s barely any time to think about the atrocious interior decorating of the main lobby before Jungkook is pulling you along to a rickety elevator. You vaguely remember him making a comment at some point about how your apartment seemed a lot nicer than his, but honestly, your own building is in the same state as his.

The doors of the elevator ding as they close behind you. Once the two of you are safely inside the confines of the elevator, you dare to turn to Jungkook.

“What is it you wanted to show me?” You ask. Jungkook grips your hand a bit tighter. A smile overtakes his face, top row of teeth glistening as he does.

“You’ll see. My roommate recently moved out so I had to make use of the empty room somehow.”

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival on a new floor, and Jungkook eagerly steps out before the doors are even fully open. You have to jog a bit to keep in pace with him. His much longer legs are taking too many wide strides for you to keep up with, but he comes to a sudden halt moments later. You crash into his back, hand still linked with his, and crush your arms together awkwardly. Jungkook moves with too much enthusiasm to care. He unlocks the door in front of him, pushes it open, and tugs you inside with increased fervor.

“Ta-da!” He announces with a bright voice as he pulls you into a dark room. Releasing your hand, he flips the light switch and allows brightness to illuminate the room. Your jaw falls open at the sight before you.

The walls are lined with old wooden shelves, books back to back on every shelf. There are so many shelves that you can’t even see the wall, and so many books that you can hardly see the back of the shelves.

“Oh my god…” You utter through the shock. It’s like Jungkook’s own little bookstore, a vast collection of books of all sizes and shapes and ages. Some are old with cracking spines and yellowed pages, others newer with paperbacks and dog eared pages. Yet, Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to just show you the room. He tugs on your sleeve, bringing your gaze back to him, and motions to a shelf with his head. You trail after him, unable to keep your stare from wandering to the other shelves in the room.

“This–” he points to a shelf lined with old books “–is where I keep my Lovecraft collection.” You whip your head over to him. “And this…” He lifts a finger to one book in particular. Its spine is familiar, words faded and hard to read from the wear of the years, yet you still know exactly what it is.

“It’s the collection you got from the bookstore.”

“Out of all these books, this one is by far my favorite,” Jungkook says under his breath as his finger trails along the faded words of the spine.

“Why?”

“Easy…” He trails off, pulling his hand away from the shelf. Next thing you know, he’s leaning closer to you. His hands find your hips and guide your steps until your back hits a shelf. “It gave me you.” He pushes his face closer to yours, and you meet him halfway, lips crashing together in a mess of skin and teeth.

It’s a moment of self-gratification for certain; the feel of Jungkook’s lips against yours is like fine wine, and you don’t want to stop drinking. However, it is also more than just self-gratification and lust, because Jungkook kisses you with such passion and fervor that all your thoughts leave your head. He slots his lips against yours in a way that feels like home, something comfortable and warm and perfect in so many ways. It feels different than the first time you kissed him in the bookstore. That was a heat of the moment lust but this seems more romantic in a way. You have never been one for cheesy nuances or being a hopeless romantic, yet the way Jungkook is kissing you is dispelling all your previous uncertainties with the simple action.

You fold your arms around his neck and pull him in closer and closer until his chest crashes against yours. The two of you move with haste, gripping and tugging at each as though your lives depend on it even though you have all the time in the world. His hands slide across your hips to cup the curve of your ass. He hoists you up with a small grunt, lips parting as he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist to secure yourself.

“W-Wait,” Jungkook huffs against your lips, pulling back to look you in the eye. “I wanna… I wanna get it right.”

“You will,” you reassure. With a gentle touch, you trail your fingers along his jaw and trace the line of his lips, moist from saliva. Jungkook shivers under you then leans into the gentle tracings of his features.

“Bedroom,” he mutters after a moment of reveling in your touch. “I want you in the bedroom.”

“Perfect,” you whisper against his lips. “I want you to take me in the bedroom.” Jungkook groans at your words and pulls you away from the shelf. You prepare to hit the ground, but Jungkook keeps you flush against him, walking out of the room as though you weigh nothing. You don’t have any more time to think about that though because his soft lips find yours again and pull you out of your thoughts.

Your first roadblock hits when Jungkook reaches his bedroom door. He fumbles for the handle, struggling to get to it with you so securely in his hold, but after a string of muttered curses, he manages to push it open. Within seconds, you find yourself flat against a mattress, Jungkook’s warm lips still hovering over yours. You detach from each other only to scramble further back on the bed, and Jungkook leans away to peel the turtleneck clinging to his body off his skin.

You drink in the sight before you, Jungkook’s bare skin heaven to your eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room, his skin seems to glisten, a honey-toned glow across his chest, and the small glint of his piercings entices you to reach out and brush your fingers across them. Jungkook twitches under the touch, leaning in to capture your lips with his yet again. His own fingers tug at the hem of your t-shirt, and you let him pull it up over your head, exposing the plain black bra underneath. It’s a sight Jungkook has seen before but he looks just as enamored as he was the first time he saw you like this.

He moves slower this time, gentle and hesitant in the way he reaches around you to spring the clasp loose, and his fingers barely brush your skin as he slips the straps off and tosses the bra aside. Rather than driving straight in, Jungkook stays up for a minute and fumbles with the button of his black jeans. He tugs them down, bulge already evident through his underwear, and tosses them to the side along with your bra. You add your pants to the fray as well, tugging them down as best you can, and when they get stuck around your ankles, Jungkook helps you kick them off.

He finally dips back down to join your lips again, chest warm against yours. Your groins brush as he scoots closer to you, and you wrap your legs around his waist again. Fingers find his ombre locks and sink into them, tugging and pulling as he pushes his tongue between your lips. Fire burns in your gut. You’ve waited months to have this opportunity again but it feels so different this time, so much more special and meaningful, and perhaps for once you honestly and truly believe that the man in your arms is your soulmate.

Jungkook tugs the band of your underwear down, wasting no time in getting to business, and frankly, you are quite thankful for it. Your folds are already dripping with threads of arousal. Jungkook releases a low groan as he brushes through the dampness between your legs. One finger slips into your heat, and it draws a high-pitched whine from your throat. Your hips buck against his hand in attempts to increases the friction, but Jungkook uses his other hand to hold you in place.

“C-Can I–would you be alright with me ch-choking you?” Jungkook stammers out, chest heaving. All of the sudden, he seems shy again, the same nervous boy you met on the train. Rather than answering with words, you take hold of his wrist and tug his hand up to the column of your throat with a small nod of your head. His grip remains hesitant as you let your hand fall away from his, but as you grind your hips against his finger again, he gains confidence. With a light squeeze to your throat, he pushes a second finger into your tight heat. The lethargic speed he’s moving at only causes your pleasure to spiral further out of control, desperate for him to pick up the pace and fuck you into next week.

“P-Please go faster, Jungkook. Please hurry up. I need you. I need your cock,” you plea as you bat your eyelashes, hoping to have some sort of effect on him. However, rather than giving in to your desires, he squeezes your throat a bit more, just enough pressure to push your pleasure over the edge, and his fingers crook inside you. A choked moan leaves your lips, and Jungkook eats it up, lips slotting over yours as he slowly fucks his fingers into you.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more patient than that if you want my cock,” he hisses against your lips. Leaning back, he redirects his attention back to your throbbing core and pulls his hand away from your throat to deliver a light slap to your swollen clit. You thrash under the contact, another whine rushing from your mouth. “Last I remember, you were worried about my cock not fitting in your tight little cunt.” The words are foul, but they sound even more foul coming from Jungkook’s lips. As he sees the pleasure radiating off of you in waves, his confidence grows, and you can clearly see – and feel it – in the way he scissors you open at a new angle.

The pads of his fingers brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, just the right length to be teasing it when he crooks his fingers, and you shake under him. You can taste the orgasm mounting, you want it, need it, but Jungkook keeps dashing past that spot as you get more desperate. Another light slap comes down against your clit, and you nearly cum right then.

“Ju-Jungkook, ple–please. Please, oh god, let me cum. May I please cum?” You beg, writhing under Jungkook’s teasing touch. His eyes refuse to leave your sopping pussy though, so you persist and try to bring his attention back to you. “Sir. Sir. Please, sir.” His eyes snap up to meet yours the moment you use the title, pupils widening, and his dick twitches against your thigh.

“Go ahead and cum then, baby girl,” he says with a growing smirk.

A third finger squeezes into your heat, brushing against your tight walls, and you subconsciously clench around him. Jungkook groans as you do, fucking his fingers into you a bit faster now. Your orgasm rushes forward, spurred on by one final slap to your clit, and with a cry of pleasure, you cum around his fingers. Jungkook uses his free hand to take hold of one of your hands, squeezing your fingers between his as he guides you through the orgasm.

“Good girl, good girl,” he mutters against the inside of your thigh. He presses a series of kisses against the skin there before nipping at it and replacing the soft pecks with small bites and marks. You come down from your high relatively quickly, although it’s probably only because of the promise of him fucking you for real soon. Jungkook pulls back, eyes raking over your sweat-drenched form, and he climbs off the bed to pull his own underwear down. You start to sit up, reaching out for his throbbing cock, but he stops you by climb back on top of you.

“B-But I wanna ma-make you cum first,” you mutter as he cages you in with his arms.

“And you will,” he reassures, small smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Because I guarantee that the second I see my cock inside you, I will be ready to cum right then and there.”

“Then hurry up and fuck me,” you whine. Jungkook chuckles at your impatience and presses a chaste kiss against your temple where beads of sweat are starting to form. His left hand takes hold of your right, fingers slipping between yours and interlocking there, while his right one slowly guides his member towards your drenched folds. He moves slow for you, pushing just the tip in at first and letting you shift on the bed to get more comfortable. Then when you give him another nod of approval, he pushes deeper and deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. His cock twitches inside you, the stretch an unimaginable pain that you’ve never experienced before, so much more than any other time you’ve had sex in the past.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, deep breaths causing your chest to heave as you grow accustomed to the stretch of his cock, but as more time passes, you grow needy for him to move.

“Can… can you please fuck me now?” You ask, lips right next to Jungkook’s ear, and his hips jolt upon hearing the words. Your words are permission enough for him. He sits back a bit, fingers close around your hips, and he pulls out to give an experimental thrust back into you. A loud moan leaves your lips as he moves. He takes it as encouragement to keep going, building up a steady pace with his thrusts. His cock seems to hit deeper with each thrust, filling you up in the best way possible. You reach around to grip him by the hair and tug him closer to your face. Your teeth clash before your lips do, tongues intertwine in a fight for dominance, and he groans with each pull you give to his long locks. There’s no time for talking, not that either of you could try to speak in the first place because all you can manage are grunts and moans for the time being.

Jungkook slides a hand down your stomach, hesitating over your abdomen for a moment before slipping between your legs to tease at your clit. The added stimulation draws louder noises out of you and spurs your orgasm to approach faster. His thrusts are beginning to stutter a bit, so you know he much be close as well.

“…want you to cum with me,” he grunts against your jaw. That decorated tongue of his teases a path down to the juncture of your throat, sucking dark marks against your skin. His fingers work faster, hips speed up, and your orgasm crashes over you as he gives one last thrust. Warmth fills you, and you rake your nails across his back as your orgasm continues.

You don’t know how long you lay there, spent and exhausted from the sex, but warm and comfortable, still filled with his softening cock and cum. Sometime later, Jungkook pushes himself up, and your chests nearly stick together because of the layer of sweat covering your bodies. He slowly pulls his cock out of you. The sudden coldness is unwelcome, but Jungkook peppers your thighs with kisses, murmuring soft praises against your skin as he does, and that causes your heart to swell with a foreign emotion.

“I’ll get a warm towel for you then run some water for a shower, okay?” Jungkook says as he climbs off the bed. You nod in approval, still too spent to try to move. That strange warmth in your chest doesn’t leave, even after Jungkook heads into what must be his bathroom. You bring a shaky hand to hover over your chest as though it’ll give some explanation as to what you’re feeling.

“Jungkook?” You call out. He reappears in the room a moment later, a fresh set of pants on, and rushes to the bedside.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry coating his tone.

“Y-Yea, I just… I just had a question.”

“Oh okay, ask away.”

“Wha–What are soulmates?” You ask without looking at him. Tears prick the corner of your eyes and you can’t figure out why until Jungkook gives his answer.

“Soulmates are… people who find each other in every life, no matter the obstacle.”

“Ah,” you exhale. “That’s all I wanted to ask.” He nods down at you, eyes still full of concern even as he steps away. You take the time to sit up straight, pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed to wrap around your naked body, and climb off the bed on shaky legs.

A soulmate is someone you never knew you needed, yet once they come into your life, you know you can’t live without them.

Perhaps it is a day full of revelations because as you watch the man work in the next room, drinking in all that’s happened in such a short period of time, you think you finally understand what soulmates are. And, maybe after all, you understand what fate is meant to be. Despite her moments of cruelty, you somehow found Jungkook. That’s enough for you.

“Jungkook…” He turns to where you stand in the doorframe of the bathroom, eyes wide in question. “What are we?”

His expression softens upon hearing the question.

“Soulmates,” he answers, matching your quiet tone. “Y/N L/N, we’re soulmates.”

☽     ☾

a/n: oKAy hi hello you made it to the end!!! wow!! i’m sorry this is so long deadass it was supposed to just be a drabble and now look where we are this is awko and longo well anyways please give me feedback and let me know what you think!! please don’t just like and reblog without saying anything, please send in feedback on the story, my writing, anything, i live for feedback and it helps me become a better writer!

rather than sending me a ko-fi, i ask that you consider donating to the BLM movement!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[ahatintimepieces]

He’s Going to be Okay

I wrote a little fic for @doodledrawsthings ahit “Coffee shop AU” about one of Luka’s early days working at The Horizon! Nothing fancy but I got the idea and just went with it. Please enjoy!

              Luka flexed his four fingers against his coiled torso, staring at the thick purple prongs with tempered despair. Yes, he had been getting used to his new fluid body after traveling around for a few years, but now that he had recently started working at The Horizon, he found himself aching for his human body even more.

              Whenever he shapeshifted, he became acutely aware of just how much he had changed. While making coffee or wiping down tables, he could feel how flexible his arms and fingers were, like they were those cylindrical jelly toys meant to slip out of children’s hands the second they were squeezed too hard. He always feared if he grabbed a carafe or a customer’s change too firmly, his hands would melt back into purple goop.

              Blinking, he ran his hand through the fur on his head. He had to get up. Hattie was at school, which he was so grateful that a chance for her to have a normal life as a kid again, and he had work, which was another wonderful blessing. But he was so tired.

              Shaking himself as he uncoiled and floated over to the bathroom, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. His pair of golden, glowing eyes and jack-o-lantern smile stared back at him. He longed for nothing more than to see his familiar, human features, but just the idea of shapeshifting just then drained him of non-existent energy.

              Come on! He could do this! He had been working full time and taking grad classes on top of being a single father before all of this! He didn’t know the meaning of fatigue! Surely, he could keep his liquid body in the right shape for one measly shift!

              Determined, he shrunk himself enough to curl his tail at the base of the sink as he gripped the edges. He stared into the mirror. It was only his forth day on the job and he wasn’t going to be late! He stared at his golden eyes, using the promise of coffee to summon enough strength to—

              He groaned and hunched over the sink, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

              Okay. New plan! He would grab some clothes and commute as a noodle. Maybe a short flight through the forest would wake his body up enough to change.

              Once he collected his things, he shrunk himself and snuck outside through his bedroom window. Luckily, most everyone in the complex had either left for work or school, so he only needed to slip past an older couple sitting on a bench at the boarder of the forest. He flew behind him, using their own shadows for cover, and darted into the woods.

              Use the shadows to hide. Think about the coffee waiting at work. Remember he’s doing this for Hattie. Hattie. He has to be able to support her. His daughter is all he had left, and he knew he could be okay as long as he had her.

              Feeling a touch more rejuvenated from both his mental pep talk and the fresh forest air, Luka landed behind the usual tree he used as cover when he started to slip in work. From his tree, he could smell the roasted coffee and his mouth watered. While Hattie did make him breakfast that morning—complete with lots of bacon, as if his sweetheart knew he needed an extra boost—he found himself still hungry. He vaguely wondered if all the shapeshifting lately required more fuel as well as sleep, but he shoved those thoughts down swiftly.

              He didn’t really have time to dwell on these things.

              With concentration, he first focused on shifting into a humanoid shape. The fluff around his neck easily molded into tufts of soft hair and shrinking his length to his human height was also a breeze. The hard part was splitting his tail into legs and his mittens into hands. But soon, he found himself standing—oh standing! How he missed feeling firmly planted on the ground on two feet!—and he could flex his humanoid fingers and thumbs. Next came his features, which he manifested while he shimmied into his pants.

              Nose. Teeth that weren’t fangs. Human eyes—with pupils and everything!—and brows. He skipped the ears because he figured his hair would cover them anyway and he was still so tired. Cutting corners on his appearance might help. Soon enough, he felt himself in proper human-shape, even if he still felt like a water balloon with his innards shifting around in a magic shell.

              As he buttoned his shirt—something so normal felt so good—he focused on changing his color to match how he was before. Brown hair, chestnut eyes, and not a drop of purple anywhere on his skin. He inhaled a steadying breath and walked around the shop and towards the entrance.

              “Hey there, Luka,” MJ called from the cash register as Luka briskly walked towards the back. “How was drop-off?”

              Drop-off? It took Luka a second as he put on his apron before he registered that MJ was asking about dropping Hattie off at school—the reason Luka had said he couldn’t take an early shift.

              “Oh, yeah,” Luka offered a nervous smile. He felt bad not only that he had to lie about the real reason but also because he wished he could have walked Hattie to school instead of being confined to the apartment as a weird purple snake monster. “It was fine. She seems to be making friends already.”

              That, he realized gratefully, was true and he couldn’t be happier for his daughter.

              But it also meant he really needed to make sure he didn’t screw up this job.

              “That’s great!” MJ offered a warm smile before turning back to the customers, his blue hair bouncing on top his head with his movement.

              Luka glanced down as he tied his apron, smiling softly.

              “Enough chatting!” Clover appeared from the back with a tray of plastic-wrapped pastries in hand. “Luka, can you get started on making drinks?”

              “Oui, Chef!” Luka saluted, which earned an eyeroll from Clover.

              “We outsource the pastries, you goof!” She gave him a gentle nudge before restocking the reserves beneath the display case.

              Instead of quipping back, Luka just laughed as he crossed over to the espresso machine, where cups with orders were already lined up.

              It felt good, he marveled, laughing with coworkers. How long had it been since he just spent time with friends? His gaze lingered on his human hand as he grabbed a cup.

              Too long, he decided.

              The first half of the shift went by in a blur. The mornings were always busiest, leaving Luka pushing out cup after cup. It wasn’t until MJ handed him the last order that Luka let himself relax long enough to breathe. Even then, when he read MJ’s instructions on what coffee to make, it just read, “Luka’s Favorite.”

              “What?” Luka glanced over at MJ, taking a moment to briefly scan the room for anyone waiting for coffee.

              “You’ve earned it,” MJ answered as his gaze narrowed on something in front of him and furrowed his brows. MJ removed his red-rimmed glasses and frowned at an apparent smudge before using the edge of his apron to clean up the lens. “I don’t know your favorite though,” MJ looked back up, squinting slightly at Luka without his glasses. “You’ll have to tell me a few times before I remember, as a heads up.”

              “Chestnut-infused Columbian Bean with cream and sugar,” Luka replied softly, smiling as he started to make himself a cup. “What about you?”

              MJ pushed his glasses back onto his nose and was about to respond before he titled his head with concern.

              “Dude, you alright? You’ve got some pretty gnarly bags under your eyes.”

              Luka’s heart dropped into his stomach as he instinctively lifted a hand to his face.

              “Um, mind if I—” Luka gestured towards the bathroom and MJ nodded. Luka practically threw himself into the cramped employee bathroom and glanced up.

              Oh no.

              Sure enough, purple was starting to spread, starting at the base of his eyes. In addition, his chestnut irises were starting to reflect gold in the dim bathroom light. He glanced down at his hands, his usual indicator that he was out of time in his human-shape. They remained untouched by purple and he still had his thumbs.

              Okay. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. He had made it through most of the shift and might be able to stick it out the rest of the day. Looking exhausted was fine, so long as he still looked human.

              He inhaled a deep, calming breath. He would be fine. He just needed a cup of coffee and that should tide him over. He could stick it out! He could do this!

              He returned to the counter with an anxious smile plastered on his face. MJ was wiping down the top of the display case when Luka went to finished making his coffee. While he poured the cream, he noted his hands were shaking but he ignored them.

              “Luka,” MJ asked as Luka lifted the steaming cup to his lips, “is everything okay?”

              “Oh yeah!” Luka smiled but he soon felt two sharp somethings—his fangs, he realized with dread—dig into his bottom lip. Panic gripped his chest and he glanced down at his hand holding the coffee cup.

              The tips of his fingers were turning purple.

              “Actually,” Luka’s shoulders slumped with resignation. He shifted the coffee cup into his other hand—which was still free of purple—and hid his changing hand behind his back. “I’m not—I think I need to—”

              MJ zeroed in on his hand and for a second, Luka feared the purple was spreading and the cat was out of the bag, but his fears were soon assuaged when MJ spoke.

              “Your hand is shaking more than my old dryer!” MJ explained in disbelief and worry. “Listen, do you need to go home? I can cover for the rest of the day.”

              “I hate to leave you mid-shift again and with Clover off getting more cup sleeves—” Luka winced from the way his growing fangs scratched against his mouth as he stepped back towards the door.

              “It’s all good,” MJ promised, his brows tight with concern. “Just get some rest before you need to pick up your daughter.”

              “Thank you!” Luka just about dashed out the back door, “It won’t happen again!”

              He barely made it outside before the purple creeped up his arm and his fingers on his one hand clenched back into cumbersome mittens. He ducked behind the tree and let out a frustrated groan as his thin control over his body dissolved.

              Not wanting to ruin another pair of clothes, he placed his coffee down and swiftly undressed. He tried to maintain fingers on the hand that was just turning purple as he struggled with the buttons on his shirt. It took a few tries but he finally managed. The second he shed his shirt and pants, his purple form ballooned into the now familiar form of a large snake with fur and noodle arms.

              Luka sighed, leaning against the bark as fatigue and sorrow ate at his spirit. Wet, golden tears slipped down familiar paths etched into his cheeks. He momentarily entertained the idea of remaining there, in the shadow of the tree and stewing in his sorry state, but on the other side of The Horizon, he could hear the hustle and bustle of the people of Subcon. The longer he remained in the open, the more he risked being seen.

              Willing himself through the motions, he collected his clothes and draped them over his arm before scooping up his coffee cup between two thick fingers. Careful not to let the cup slip through his fingers because he knew that a little spilled coffee in that moment was all it would take to send him into a spiral of despair he might not be able to recover from, he headed home.

              He hovered through the deeper part of the woods since he had nowhere to be anytime soon. Of course, he wanted to be home before Hattie, but that wasn’t for another hour or two. So, he took his time, letting his tail wiggle lackadaisically as he flitted from shadow to shadow. The warm coffee in his hand was a small comfort and the toasted flavor of the beans soothed him to the core.

              He was mid-sip—eyes half-closed—when a small gasp came from below.

              Luka’s eyes snapped fully open as he glanced down over his coffee cup. A young child in a dark purple hood with fluffy brown bangs that concealed most of their features was craning their neck to look up at him.

              The two remained frozen as they stared at each other for a second. Luka clutched his clothes draped around his one arm and still held the coffee cup to his mouth while the child’s jaw hung open.

              “Wowie! What are—” The child’s awe-filled voice snapped Luka out of his petrification and before the child could finish their sentence, Luka flew away.

              Peck! He was seen! Sure, he had been seen before but usually not mid-day and never that up close! He glanced back at the kid, who thankfully wasn’t following him, just watching in shock.

              That might come back to haunt him…

              Oh well, Luka tried to console himself as he zipped back home. At least the kid didn’t see him shapeshifting, which was more likely to give away his identity. The thought of Luka being found out and having to tear Hattie from another home gripped his chest like ice, but he immediately forced himself to take deep breaths.

              It was okay. The kid saw a purple noodle in the forest with coffee. It was fine. There was no reason to think he was at risk of being found out.

              It was going to be okay. He would be okay. Hattie was safe and happy. Everything was okay.

              The area behind the apartment was void of life and Luka had no trouble shrinking and flying up to his bedroom window, which he had left open for easy access. He flew in and soon expanded to fill the empty room. Sighing, he gingerly set down his cup before folding his clothes and stacking them by the closet. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he curled around himself, resting his head on his hands on the topmost coil.

              His eyelids drooped as he flicked the tip of his tail back and forth. He wished he could have finished his shift. He wished he could have kept laughing with MJ and that he could have been there when Clover came back.

              He squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would keep a few more tears from slipping out. No such luck. He heaved out a worn sign before shifting his focus on getting some sleep. Maybe if he rested enough, he would have enough energy to maintain a humanoid shape so he could cook a good dinner for Hattie. That would be nice.

              He fell asleep repeating his new mantra.

              It would be okay. He was going to be okay.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Good Morning - Chapter 2

Coffee shop!AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, owner of Dean’s Beans is living a humble and quiet life. Roasting beans and selling coffee in his little shop is what makes him happy. When she walked into his shop four months ago, his life changed, but is it for better or worse?

Chapter Warnings: None. Just Dean being adorable and flustered.

WC: 1804

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

Tuesday, September 1st

 Dean’s working the front again like he always does in the mornings. Mainly, because he lives just above the shop and secondly, he wants to spare Benny the travel time. If someone would ask Benny why Dean never lets him work the early shift, the dude would say that the arguments Dean’s bringing up are all lies. Benny would say that it was because Dean doesn’t want to share preparing coffee for her with anyone else. 

He thinks his friend is exaggerating. But maybe, yeah, there’s some truth to it. She never comes in during the day. Not at night either. They’re open till eight, but he’s never seen her coming in apart from the mornings.

While Dean works the machine, his phone starts to vibrate in his pants. With one free hand, he fishes it out.

Liz.

He’s got no patience for the woman, at least not when he’s working, but maybe it’s about Ben. It usually is about Ben when she calls. 

Dean picks up, wedges his phone between his shoulder and head to be able to still work with both hands. 

“Liz,” He breathes out.

“Dean, you’ve got to talk to him,” Liz says meekly.

He knows exactly who she means by him.

“What about?”

“He’s not happy. He’s closed up and we have a fight every morning before he has to go to school. It’s draining my energy!”

“Why can’t Gordon talk to him?” Dean asks, and he thinks it isn’t too much of him to ask to get Gordon to talk to Ben. Gordon is Ben’s stepdad after all and he and Liz have been married for quite some time now. The dude has spent more time in the house with Ben than Dean ever had. 

“It will only make it worse.” 

Dean’s putting the lid on the cup and hands it out, taking the money in exchange, and letting it slip into the register. He only nods at the customer, but the man understands, nodding back at him.

“You know that you’re the only one he listens to,” Liz continues and adds, “We had a fight this morning. Every morning actually since the school year started.”

The bell chimes and Dean’s still trying to find a polite way to talk to Liz. It’s hard to form words sometimes without sounding too rude. While he’s still thinking about what to say, he looks up and sees her walking in. 

“‘K, Liz, have him call me, alright? I got work to do, bye.” He hangs up before Liz could say anything and lets the phone slip back into his pant pocket before taking another order, “Good Morning, what can I get you?”

While Dean prepares the order for the man in the front, he can’t help but take quick glances at her every now and then. 

She has a backpack strapped around her shoulder instead of the usual laptop bag. He shouldn’t notice these little things, yet here he is and it’s weird, isn’t it? The way he already knows her habits, the way he knows that when it’s warm enough, she wears a shirt or a blouse, combines it with some kind of a jacket when the mornings are cool. Sometimes, leather, which makes his head spin. Sometimes it’s a jeans jacket, which is really cute and it suits her. Sometimes, she’d wear a cardigan that makes her look so innocent and pure, it almost gets his heart to explode from all the clenching that it does.

There were times when she would wear a long-sleeved shirt for three or four days in a row and Dean kept wondering why. It was not exactly cold out. 

Now, when the mornings start to get cooler, he notices that she wears a thick jumper that’s way too big for her. It makes her look more fragile. Makes her look like someone that needs protection. Maybe she does? Dean doesn’t know. Didn’t allow himself to go there and question it. All he knows is that it makes him want to protect her.

What he also knows is that when she’s running late to his shop, she’d show up bare-faced and her hair’s usually in knots or a ponytail because she probably overslept. There’s no make up on her face whatsoever, but there’s always a glint of lip gloss on her lips. Which is not really fucking fair to him because he’d like to kiss those glistening lips. 

Right now, Dean’s serving the customer before her, but he feels her eyes on him. It doesn’t make him work on the order any faster, though. Almost spilling hot milk over his own goddamn clumsy hands as he does. Finally, he manages to put the lid on the cup and hands it over, “Thank you, and have a good day!”

With a grin, she steps closer to the counter and he turns into a stupid teen again. His face is tilted down a little, his cheeks are flushed because they feel like they are burning up big time, and there’s a smirk on his stupid face, can’t really help it.

“Good morning,” He mumbles, can’t really bring it out louder, “The same as usual?” He manages to ask, is a little proud of himself to push the word over his lips without a stutter.

She nods with a smile, “Hi, Dean. Please,” 

Oh, she’s greeting him by name now. That’s progress, right? He absolutely loves how his name sounds rolling off her tongue. Smooth like fucking honey, and he absolutely wouldn’t mind to hear it more often.

“Double?” Dean asks, just to make sure. 

Double is her go-to when she needs to wake up. A One-shot is normally only reserved for a couple of days a month, he guesses that it’s when she’s on her period. It’s absolutely stalker-ish of him to know these facts, and Dean knows that he shouldn’t even notice but he does.

“Uh, do you do triple?”

He chuckles, “I don’t think that would do you any good if you have to work, you might be shaking the whole morning and your eyes are going to cross.”

“Good thing I’m not working in the office today, then.”

He lifts his eyebrows, wants to ask more, but he knows that it’s not his fucking place, “Right,” He says, “Just this one time, okay?”

Smiling, she nods, “Thank you.”

As Dean prepares the three shots of espresso, he risks a glance, sees her watching him with a small smile.

“So, no office today?” He blurts out and he feels absolutely stupid. She’d think he’s weird for asking about her personal life, won’t she?

“Nope, my office has maxed out on capacity and I’m working mostly from home unless I do have to go in for meetings.”

He lifts one eyebrow, “And why aren’t you home now when you don’t have to be anywhere?”

Dean can feel her change in demeanor. Her shoulders are tensing and she bites on her bottom lip. It’s just really quick and she probably thinks that he didn’t notice, but he did. 

He pours the three shots into a big cup, proceeds to pour some milk into the jug and he doesn’t look at her, because he’s afraid that she’ll close up to him now that he has gotten her to talk some more. 

“I don’t really have good wifi at home.” She says simply and Dean believes her, although he has the feeling that there’s something else she doesn’t tell him. But he takes that explanation because it’s a valid one. 

He knows himself how wifis can be a pain in the ass in the city. The wifi in his apartment above the shop does the same sometimes and he should really buy a new router, but he just doesn’t seem to spend enough time in there and the wifi in the shop is good enough for him to do his administrative work. 

Dean is warming up the milk, the sound is noisy and he can’t concentrate on her because he has to be careful not to make too much foam and spill it over his own hands again. 

When he pours the milk into the cup, he has a sudden lightbulb moment. And he looks up, sees her staring. 

Dean grins.

“What?” She asks with clear irritation on her face. 

“I was just thinking,” He says, as he picks up the cocoa powder and sprinkles it over the foam of milk, “You can work in here. We have a pretty good wifi connection and you’re right at the coffee source.” He shrugs nonchalantly, doesn’t want her to see that he’s excited about the prospect of her doing her work in his shop. At least he doesn’t want to seem like he’s more excited than he should be.

“Oh, I can’t,” She says and pauses, “Or can I?” 

Dean raises an eyebrow as he finishes putting the lid onto her triple espresso beverage, “Yeah, you can. There are a couple of people coming in to work from here, some stay a couple of hours, some the whole day.” He shrugs and it’s not even a full lie. He really has people working out of his shop, he doesn’t have people who stay the whole day, though. The most that someone stays is about three hours, so it’s not really a lie. He’s just twisting the truth a little. 

“Okay, I might take you up on that. But this week I’ve rented out an office desk space downtown already, so maybe I’ll be here next week?”

“Sounds great,” Dean smiles, couldn’t not smile because there’s a sudden feeling of joy logged in his chest. 

She hands him a five-dollar bill this time and Dean actually doesn’t want to take it. She notices the irritation on his face.

“For the muffin last time, Dean.”

“I can’t take it.” 

“Do it.” 

“Fine, but here,” He grabs the little paper bag packed with a muffin and holds it out for her, “Another one.” He hopes she doesn’t see how much he’s blushing. 

She grins, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean answers with a sincere smile, “Oh, and do I get to know your name?” 

His heart is thumping fast in his chest and his throat feels dry. God, he definitely feels like a teen again. 

“My name?” She asks, her grin grows cocky, he likes that a lot.

“Yeah,” Dean huffs out a breath, “You know mine. It’s only fair.”

She actually laughs, god what a nice sound. It’s indeed a good morning.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s only fair. I’m Y/N.” She’s still chuckling. 

“Alright, Y/N, have a nice day and thank you,” He holds up the five-dollar bill. 

“I’ll see you, Dean.” She nods before she leaves and hell, yeah, he hopes that he’ll see her soon.

Chapter 3

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[anna-justice]

Sunny Day - Rowater

Summary: Vanessa’s undercover assignment is done, she comes back to the 21st to make amends with one person in particular.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of blood & gore

Requested: Yes! #7, “What the hell are you doing here.” & #8, “Don’t walk away again.” 

…

Vanessa stepped out of the cab and slammed the door shut behind her, staring straight ahead at the familiar condo in front of her. It had been six months since she had stood before it, and gosh, how she missed it. Including the ugly door hanger Hailey insisted on putting out every spring. 

She passed a grey pickup during her walk to the front door, smirking at the sight. When she reached the porch, she dug in the side of her duffle bag, pulling out a set of keys she hadn’t used since she left. She twisted the key in the door and pushed it open quietly, sighing when the first floor was revealed. Everything was exactly the same. 

She dropped her duffle bag on the floor and went straight for the kitchen. She didn’t know the last time she ate anything homecooked. She was rummaging through the fridge when she heard thudding behind her, she grinned, she couldn’t wait to see her roommate. 

“Chicago P.D. Turn around slowly and show me your hands.” A man’s voice said soft, but sternly.

Vanessa laughed, raising her hands and turning to face the detective. “Hi, Jay.” She said, looking him up and down. Her coworker stood there in only his boxers at the base of the stairs, gun raised. 

“Jesus, Vanessa.” He said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Good to see you.” She waved a finger at him, “I’m glad to know you feel comfortable around me.” 

Jay scoffed, nonchalantly (or not so) lowering his hands so that they covered his crotch. “I’m gonna go get Hailey-” 

Before he could even get the sentence out, there was padding above them. “Jay?” She called out, followed by thudding at the top of the stairs. “Babe, what’s wrong-Vanessa?” The blonde asked as she reached the bottom. She squealed a very un-Hailey-like squeal and raced towards her best friend. “Hi.” She said as she wrapped her arms around her. 

“Hey.” Vanessa said softly, sighing as she hugged her back. 

Jay coughed behind them. “I’m gonna go put some clothes on…”

“Or maybe just pants?” Hailey smirked at him

Vanessa stared intensely at him, “Yeah, don’t hide on my account.” Hailey looked at her best friend, who was staring her boyfriend down and burst out laughing, along with Vanessa. 

Hailey walked over to him, placing a hand on his chest, she reached up and pecked his cheek. “Bring me back a pair of sweats?” 

“Yeah.” Jay nodded shortly, before disappearing to where he came from. 

Vanessa hadn’t noticed until then, but all Hailey was wearing was an oversized grey v-neck, undoubtedly one that wasn’t hers. Hailey settled in on a barstool, motioning for Vanessa to follow. “How long are you back?” 

Vanessa shrugged, “I’m not sure. Things kind of got crazy, so they pulled me out to let the wires cool down. They haven’t decided if they are going to send me back in yet.” 

“What happens if they don’t send you back in?” Hailey asked. 

Vanessa took a deep breath, “The higher ups are pushing for me to stay on with them, either as a undercover case worker or as one of their regulars.” 

“V, that’s great! Getting an offer from the feds your 3rd year on the job? That’s incredible.” Hailey exclaimed. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that the Bureau has something against Voight.”

“Speaking of,” Vanessa said, “How was your stint? Did it end up being short?” 

Hailey nodded, “Yeah, about two months. I came home right after you left.”

“Damn.” Vanessa said.

“I know. We just missed each other.” Hailey sat forward, “So, are you gonna take it?”

Vanessa shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know...What would you do?” Hailey nearly choked on her own saliva. Vanessa eyed her best friend cautiously, “Did I miss something?” She asked, laughing.

Hailey shook her head, recovering. “No, no. The people I worked with before offered me a spot on a task force a few months ago, in New York.” 

Vanessa nodded, “I’m guessing you didn’t take it?” Hailey shook her head, smiling softly. “Do you regret it?”

Hailey glanced at the stairs behind her before grinning at the officer, “Not at all.” 

…

The next morning, Vanessa found herself outside of a familiar house once again. Just this time, with two cups of coffee in her hand. She was much more anxious than the night before, she climbed the porch steps cautiously, hitting the door bell with her elbow. 

There was noise of shuffling behind it before it finally swung open, Vanessa smiled softly at the sight of the man in front of her. “Hey Kev.” She said quietly. 

Kevin stood there in shock, he debated pinching himself. He couldn’t believe who was standing there in front of him, there was no way he wasn’t dreaming. “Wh-What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, maybe a little more aggressively than he should have. 

Vanessa was momentarily taken aback by his anger. “They pulled me from the operation…” She held up the warm cup, “I remembered your order, double espresso with a shot of vanilla.” 

Kevin took it absently, still searching for the right words. “Thanks, you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah.” Vanessa said immediately, “Yeah, I do.” 

The two shifted inside the house, setting awkwardly in the colorful living room. “So, uh, when’d you get back?” Kevin asked, not really sure he wanted to know the answer. 

“Like two in the morning, I went straight to Hailey’s.” She said, rushing her words a bit. “Jay actually pulled a gun on me, I wasn’t expecting him to be there.” She laughed.

Kevin chuckled, “Yeah, those two have been attached at the hip recently.” 

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Vanessa said, looking him straight in the eye. It was more than though, it was almost an apology, almost an explanation for disappearing in the middle of night and just vanishing. 

Kevin nodded, he wanted to be angry with her, he really did, but the longer she sat across from him it slowly began to fade. He missed her, he missed her so much and being mad seemed like such a waste of time now. He looked down at her watch. “I have to be at the district in like an hour.” He said, “Do you wanna get a drink tonight?” 

Vanessa stood, she assumed that was her invitation to get the hell out of his house. “I have a lot to unpack, a lot to catch up on. Raincheck?” It wasn’t fair to get him to get attached again, not when she could get the call tomorrow that they needed her to disappear all over again. 

Kevin glanced out the window, smiling softly, “I don’t do rainchecks, especially on a sunny day.” 

Vanessa sighed, shaking her head. She remembered that day like it was yesterday, it was the day everything changed for her. “It was good to see you Kevin.” She took a few steps towards the door, praying that he would just let her go.

“Don’t walk away again, Vanessa.” Kevin said, against all better judgement. He jumped up off the couch, “Not like before” 

Vanessa turned to him with blurry vision, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes you did.” Kevin snapped, “You didn’t have to just vanish. You didn’t have to make me hear that you were gone from our Sergeant at work, you could’ve called. You could’ve told me.” 

Vanessa shook her head, “I’ve never had anyone care before.” She yelled. “Hailey was in New York, and I just…” She took a deep breath, looking at the ground. “I just left.” But it wasn’t just that, after Hailey left, her and Kevin grew even closer. Voight shifted things around and they ended up partnered up. She couldn’t bear to say goodbye to him and she had never felt that way before. 

“I cared.” Kevin said quietly, “I cared a lot.” He took a breath, throwing his arms out. “I still care.” 

Vanessa set her coffee down on the inn table next to her and closed the gap between them, attaching her lips to his. Kevin caught her with ease, wrapping his strong arms around her to pull her even closer. Vanessa’s hands found the nape of his neck, pulling him down so she could actually reach. Eventually the two pulled away, breathless.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that.” Vanessa apologized. 

Kevin nodded, “You’re right...I should have.” He leaned in again, kissing her passionately, “Jump.” He whispered against her lips, Vanessa obliged. He picked her up with ease before backing up slowly and sitting on the couch so that she was straddling him. 

“I-um-'' She said in between kisses, but she kept losing her train of thought. He was a bit distracting. Finally she pushed on his chest, jumping up and putting some space between them. “I have to tell you something.” Kevin nodded. “The feds, they offered me a job.”

“Wow,” Kevin said, sitting forward. “That’s great V. I’m really happy for you,” He said genuinely. 

“Thanks,” She said, still trying to catch her breath. “I think I’m gonna take it.” 

Kevin sighed, “You should.” 

“It’s in Chicago.” She said, smirking as Kevin’s head popped up. “I wouldn’t leave the city, but it’s centered around UC work, so I’d be gone a lot.” She sat down on top of him again, holding her face in his hands. “But, I want this, I want you. And I want to make it work, so…”

“So, nothing.” Kevin said, “Take it, you deserve it.” He reached up and pecked her gently. “I like you a lot, Vanessa, We’ll make it work, wherever you are.” Vanessa grinned, wrapping her arms around him and breathing deeply. It had taken so long, but she had come so far, she finally found her home.

…

A/N: This is my first time writing Rowater, so sorry if it seemed a little off. What did you think? Personally I will always believe that Vanessa is just undercover and she WILL be coming back, recipe for heartbreak, I know. But still, my baby Kevin needs someone to love. Thanks for reading! <3

[kumiwrites]

a cold brew

A handsome stranger picks up the journal you forget at a café. His only intention is to return it to you, but he finds himself seeking out your company more and more as your lives intertwine.

Pairing: Pro Hero!Todoroki Shouto x University Student!Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 4107 Warning(s): None AO3 Link

A/N: This is my first finished BNHA fic! I love Shouto so dearly, he is such a pure bean, and I just indulged myself with this all day instead of doing work for my meeting. I hope you enjoyed!

            The first time you run into him is a coincidence.

            You’re in your third year of university. With that comes late nights studying at the library, and a lot of caffeine pumping through your veins most hours of the day. It’s late, and you really don’t expect anyone to come into the café ten minutes before closing for a cup of coffee.

            Heterochromatic eyes lock with yours, and you can’t help but smile at the handsome man that holds open the door for you as you’re leaving. You thank him as you pass, only stopping once you’re a few steps past the store to stare back at him for a moment. You’ve definitely seen that face before, with the distinctive half-white half-red hair, but you can’t quite place it.

            “Oh well,” you murmur to yourself, heading back to your apartment.

            Shouto places his usual coffee order, knowing he has a long night of paperwork to do. As he waits for the espresso machine to churn out his drink, he notices a black notebook on the table nearby and picks it up, flipping the cover open in an attempt to find the owner. A name and phone number are written at the bottom of the inside cover.

            “Someone named [Name] left their notebook,” he tells the barista, accepting the paper cup from them.

            “Ah, I think that’s the girl that just left. I’ve never seen her here before, though, so I don’t know if she’ll be back anytime soon…”

            Shouto nods, tucking the notebook under his arm. “I’ll return it to her, then.”

            “A-are you sure? We can just hold onto it and see if she returns—”

            “It’s okay.”

            The barista nods as she returns to wiping down the counter.

            “Have a good night,” Shouto says to her as he exits, glancing in the direction you had gone.

            Fresh out of the shower, you’re wringing out your wet hair with a towel when your phone buzzes from the counter. When you look, it’s from an unknown number.

            “Weird.”

unknown number, 9:37pm

I found your notebook at the café. I think I held the door for you when you left. When can I return it to you?

            You’re surprised by the text, and immediately go to your bag, rummaging through the contents before realizing that you did indeed leave your journal behind. God, you hope he doesn’t read any of it. 

[name], 9:42pm

Thank you!! I can’t believe I left it behind. Do you want to meet tomorrow morning? I’ll buy you a coffee as a thank-you.

             You sigh softly to yourself, hanging up the wet towel on a hook as you wait for your phone to buzz.

unknown number, 9:44pm

There’s a place near the station next to the café you were at today that has good cold brew. Do you want to meet at the station?

[name], 9:45pm

That sounds good. You have the half-white, half-red hair and pretty eyes, right? What’s your name?

             He’s caught off-guard by the comment about his ‘pretty eyes.’

unknown number, 9:46pm

Shouto.

[name], 9:46pm

Is 9am okay with you?

             He hums in thought for a moment. He has to be at the agency at eleven for a briefing, which gives him around two hours of extra time. A happy coincidence, he thinks.

shouto, 9:46pm

Yes. Have a good night.

            You’re surprisingly nervous, having spent an extra ten minutes fiddling with a piece of hair that refused to sit right on your head no matter what you did to it. You settle for twisting the hair back and clipping it in place with a barrette, not wanting to be late for your coffee… date? No, exchange. Drop-off. Deal. Not a date.

            Shouto isn’t expecting you to be so excited when you approach, waving at him enthusiastically. You’re wearing a pair of grey ankle pants with a white plaid pattern and a nice white blouse loosely tucked into the high waistband. Business casual, much like his own outfit.

            You clutch your canvas bag to your side as you come to a stop in front of Shouto. He’s in a black turtleneck with white vertical stripes and a pair of black chinos, rolled up at the ankle. The turtleneck makes his hair colours stand out. With one hand holding his phone, the other is at his side, your notebook in plain sight.

            “Thank you again, Shouto-san,” you say, bowing your head to him as he hands you the journal. You tuck it safely into your bag. “I’m really indebted to you.”

            “You would’ve done the same,” he replies. “The café is this way.” He begins walking in the direction opposite of the café from the night before, and you fall into step next to him. There are hushed stares and whispers from people as you walk by, and you can’t help but feel yourself want to curl up into a ball and roll away; you hate it when people stare.

            “There are a lot of people looking at you, Shouto-san,” you whisper to him, growing more confused as some are clearly itching to approach the two of you.

            He’s surprised you haven’t realized who he is at this point, but it’s a refreshing reaction. “I wonder why.”

            Your eyebrows furrow together, and you readjust your bag on your shoulder as the two of you reach the café. Shouto holds open the door for you.

            “You like their cold brew, right?” you ask, watching as he nods in confirmation. You turn to the cashier and order two, but as you’re reaching for your wallet, Shouto taps his credit card against the machine and ushers you along to the other end of the bar counter. You pout. “It was supposed to be my treat.”

            He gives you a small chuckle. It’s a cute expression on your face, and he’s surprised by how it makes his heart skip a small beat. “Don’t worry about it. I wanted to.”

            You’re still pouting when the barista hands you the two cups, and you withhold Shouto’s from him as you shuffle past him and to one of the empty tables by the window. He laughs softly to himself as he takes two of the paper straws from the holder and brings them to you, seating himself across from you.

            “Here,” he says, holding one out to you. You eye him suspiciously before accepting it and sliding him his drink. “Thank you.”

            “Thanks for the coffee,” you grumble, stabbing your cup in the opening with the straw and taking a sip. It’s a bitter flavour at first, but by the time you swallow the sip, it’s sweet on your palate with a subtle, floral aftertaste. “Wow, it is good.”

            He nods in agreement, his elbows propped against the table as he drinks. “I found this place one day while I was leaving work.” He especially likes how the baristas never really bat an eye at him, treating him just like everyone else. It’s hard to come by a place like this sometimes when his face is plastered on the news so often.

            It’s also hard to come by someone who doesn’t recognize him immediately.

            You hum softly, your chin resting in your hand as you shake your cup gently, the sound of ice jostling like music to your ears. “You work nearby then?”

            “At the end of the street.” He keeps it vague, but you don’t pry, which he also likes. “What about you, do you work?”

            You shake your head. “I’m in my third year of university. So lots of studying, but no job yet.”

            He nods; that puts you at around the same age as him. “What program?”

            You’re very forthcoming with information, and you delve into a small description of your program. It’s something you’ve dreamed of studying when you were a child, and you’re quite happy with where you are at the moment.

            Shouto likes the way your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something. It reminds him a little of Izuku, and how he essentially looks like a child in a toy store whenever he talks about something he loves.

            An hour and a half passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re surprisingly sad to hear that Shouto has to leave to attend a meeting in twenty minutes.

            “Do you have any plans for the day?” he asks as he pushes in his chair, holding his hand out for your empty cup.

            “I have a class at one, but I’m free after three.”

            He hums softly, dropping your cups into the recycling bin as you give the barista a wave and a soft ‘thanks’ before following him out of the shop. “Do you want to get dinner, then? I should be finished work at five.”

            You’re surprised by how forward he is, but you nod enthusiastically. A handsome stranger inviting you to dinner after a pleasant morning coffee? Sounds like something out of a romance novel.

            “Meet me here at five-thirty, then?” He gives it a thirty-minute buffer in case he’s running late.

            “That sounds perfect,” you say, visualizing the time blocks in your head. The next two hours gives you enough time to finish your work for today’s class, and the two hours after class is enough for you to get most of your readings for tomorrow’s class done. “See you tonight.”

            He smiles, giving you a small wave as he turns on his heel and strides down the street.

            You’re on cloud nine.

            Thank god for lecture recordings, because you haven’t been able to process a single word of your class. You’ve been thinking about Shouto all day, and you honestly feel like a school girl with a stupid crush. That’s okay with you, though; even if it doesn’t go in the direction of a flourishing romance, you know you and Shouto will remain friends. You can feel it in your gut.

            You’re waiting in the same café as this morning, your second cup of coffee sitting empty next to you as you work through a hefty reading for tomorrow’s class. Your eyes are glazing over a little, so you decide to people watch for a bit. It’s good timing on your part, because Shouto walks by the window at that very moment. He locks eyes with you, and you let out a laugh as you wave to him.

            “You’re early,” you say as he sits down across from you.

            “So are you,” he replies, smiling as you put down your pen. “I wasn’t sure if I’d finish on time, but I ended up getting everything done early. I was just going to get a coffee and wait for you.”

            You nod, turning your paper back to the front page and tucking it into the plastic folder you use for your readings. “I was doing the same.”

            After you push your chair in, Shouto holds out a hand to you, and you give him a questioning look.

            “I’ll hold your things,” he says, motioning to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder with all of your school supplies.

            “O-oh, that’s okay,” you reply, surprised. “It’s not that heavy.”

            “All the more reason,” he says, smiling as your cheeks flush and you reluctantly hand him the bag. He secures it over his shoulder, motioning for you to lead the way as you exit the café once again.

            The bag somehow completes his look, and you can’t help admiring how nice it looks on him.

            “Do you like soba?”

            The question surprises you, but you nod. “I do.”

            His face lights up like a Christmas tree. “There’s a noodle place nearby that does a delicious cold soba, do you want to go there?”

            You nod again, smiling as he begins leading the way, excitement clearly making him walk faster than normal.

            Coffee dates and dinners with Shouto become a regular occurrence over the next four weeks. He walks you home after every dinner, and it’s gotten to a point where you’re comfortable enough with one another that you’ve both dropped the honorific.

            It’s nice knowing there’s someone who wants to spend time with you at the end of a busy workday.

            There’s a knock on your door, and you try to smooth out your hair one last time before rubbing your hands on your thighs and opening the door. Shouto is on the other side, a bag of groceries in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

            “Special delivery,” he says, and you can’t help but smile from ear-to-ear as he steps inside and kicks off his shoes. He takes a moment to admire you; you’re wearing a simple dress, loose and flowy, leaving your shoulders bare. He likes it on you.

            “My hero,” you feign a swoon. Shouto laughs, and you grin as you take the bottle of wine from him and set it on your kitchen island.

            “Your apartment is very nice, [Name].”

            You hum, giving him a moment to take everything in and look around. “Thank you, I had a lot of fun decorating it.”

            Shouto had asked you this morning if you wanted to get dinner again tonight, but you had countered with an offer of cooking with him, to ease up some of the strain on both your wallets. You’ve taken turns treating each other, which has been a refreshing change of pace from lazily thrown-together foods that you can barely call meals.

            “Are we making soba?” you tease, peering over his shoulder as he begins unpacking the bag of groceries. You left the menu up to him, and as soon as you had given him the power, he eagerly began asking about any allergies and what foods you like.

            He shakes his head, gently flicking your forehead as he folds up the plastic bag and hands it to you. “No, we’re making your favourite.”

            The bag of pasta and accompanying ingredients for your favourite sauce, placed unceremoniously on your kitchen island, make you clap your hands together in excitement. He bought everything for your favourite pasta dish. “Really?”

            He places his hands on your shoulders and guides you to the kitchen sink, motioning for you to wash your hands. “Really.”

            Shouto is surprisingly competent in the kitchen; his knifework is what impresses you most, as you watch him dice onions in such uniform pieces that you’re a little awestruck (part of that may also be because his sleeves are rolled up to his bicep, which leaves you with a nice view of his muscular arms). Your knifework is sloppy at best, with little care for how the pieces look as long as they’re somewhat similar.

            The onion doesn’t bother you much, considering you’re just watching him from the side, but clearly the knife isn’t sharp enough because Shouto’s eyes are tearing up from the fumes. You laugh softly, leaning into him and gently wiping away one of the stray tears that start to trail down his cheek.

            “Stupid onion,” he grumbles, collecting the diced onions into a clean bowl as you nudge him to the side so you can mince the garlic.

            You can’t help but think that he’s adorable. But your favourite part of all of this is that he has one of your favourite aprons on, and you wonder how many people can say Todoroki Shouto has worn their apron and cooked food with them.

            “Can you boil water for the pasta?” you ask, grinning as he’s washing his hands. “The pot is in the bottom drawer next to you.”

            You hear the pots clamoring against one another as he pulls it out and fills it up with water. The two of you move comfortably with each other, and you’re surprised by how well the first meal you’re cooking together is going.

            “I’ll make the sauce,” Shouto tells you, holding his hand out for the spatula in your hand.

            “Are you sure you can handle the responsibility?”

            He huffs, poking you in the cheek as he takes it from you. “Go sit down.”

            “No, I want to finish it with you,” you mumble, unhappy with his sudden desire to take charge.

            “Go sit,” he repeats. He sets the spatula down and spins you around, hands on your waist as he pushes you to one of the stools on the other side of your kitchen island. “I want to finish it for you.”

            The feeling of his hands around your sides makes you blush a little, which sends you into a quiet submission as you listen to the suddenly bossy man. You rest your cheek against your crossed arms and watch as he begins cooking the sauce, his broad back turned to you.

            Next thing you know, Shouto is setting a plate down in front of you, dusted with grated parmesan on top as he wipes down the counter and places his plate next to you. He unties the apron and folds it neatly, setting it down next to the sink as he grabs two forks and takes his seat next to you.

            “Thank you, Shouto,” you say, smiling as his leg brushes yours when he scoots his seat closer to you. “It looks amazing.”

            “Hopefully it tastes good, too,” he chuckles. He watches as you take the first bite, and your face melts into an expression of delight. It makes him smile.

            “Yummy,” you confirm to him, eyes closed as you hold the fork between your lips for a moment before setting it down next to your place. “It’s perfection.”

            Shouto takes a bite and confirms your critique: it tastes really good. Maybe it’s because he’s cooking for you.

            The plates are cleaned off in record time, and you hum in satisfaction as you turn to Shouto, your knee pressing into his leg. “So, so good. One of the best meals I’ve had in a long time.”

            “You’re exaggerating,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed by your high praise.

            You shake your head. “I’m not, I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in a while. I just never have time to put it together for the most part.”

            He knows he’s blushing, and he averts his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll cook more often for you, then.”

            Your face lights up. “Wait, I have a dessert for us,” you tell him, hand resting against his thigh for a moment as you hop off the stool and pull two ramekins out of the fridge. “I made crème brûlée earlier!”

            Shouto’s surprised, to say the least. The two of you didn’t really give yourselves much time to plan the night out, so he wasn’t expecting anything else other than what he wanted to cook for you. He watches as you pull out a blowtorch and the granulated sugar, spooning enough to cover the entire surface of each ramekin before lighting up the flame. The sugar caramelizes quickly, and he finds himself mesmerized by the intense concentration on your face.

            In less than five minutes, you set out two perfectly torched desserts, complete with small silver dessert spoons, and Shouto is excited. He hasn’t had crème brûlée in quite a while.

            This time, it’s your turn to watch as he takes the first bite, and when he nods in approval, you clap your hands together. “You like it?”

            “It’s so good,” Shouto murmurs, taking a second bite. The ramekin is cleaned out in the blink of an eye, and he finds himself wanting more.

            “You can take some home,” you tell him, taking his dirty dishes to the sink and soaking them in warm water and soap. “I made quite a bit.”

            He hums in approval.

            “Do you want to watch a movie? We can finish the wine and just relax for a bit before you have to go.”

            He really doesn’t want to go.

            You set the wine glasses down on your coffee table, the half-full wine bottle next to them as you turn the T.V. on. “What are you in the mood for?”

            “Anything you want to watch,” he tells you. Shouto is standing at the sink, and he begins washing the dishes, despite your protests. You pout, scrolling through the options available for you to stream as Shouto pats his hands dry and makes his way to sit next to you on the sofa.

            You decide on a psychological thriller about a serial killer and settle into your seat as you tuck your legs beneath you.

            Shouto gets comfortable as well. He finds that he's very tempted to put his arm around your shoulder, but he stops himself for now, settling for the back of the sofa instead.

            The wine is slowly finished and you’re completely enthralled by the movie, but he can’t stop watching you from the corner of his eye. The inner struggle continues for a bit, until the part of his brain yelling at him to just do it wins out.

            His arm drops from the sofa to your shoulders, and you smile a little to yourself as you scoot closer to him, your leg pressing against his as you settle into your new position, as if it he does it all the time and it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

            When the movie ends, you groan from having been in the same seat for so long. You stretch your arms in front of you before collapsing onto his lap, your face turned so you can look at him.

            “That was a good movie,” you say softly, pushing your now-messy hair out of the way so you can see him clearly.

            “It was,” he confirms, his fingers brushing the remaining strands out of your face.

            You bury your face into his side for a moment before sitting up, turning to watch him for a moment. “Thanks for spending so much time with me, Shouto.”

            You always find new ways to catch him off guard. After nearly a month, you still surprise him. “I should be thanking you, [Name].” Finding out what he does for a living hasn’t changed anything about your friendship, aside from the initial shock and subsequent occasions where you call him after a major case and ensure he’s safe and out of harm’s way. “The past few weeks have been amazing.”

            You smile, your hand resting over his thigh as he leans towards you, brushing back your hair from your neck. His hand presses against the bare skin, and you can feel the goosebumps on your arms. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as his forehead gently rests against yours, his hair tickling you.

            “Can I kiss you, [Name]?”

            You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your heart is pounding so unbearably loudly in your ears, and your breath catches in your throat with the way he’s looking at you.

            When his lips meet yours, his fingers tangle in your hair, and his other hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. You press your hand against the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips move against his.

            “Shouto,” you whisper, your face flushed as you pull away for a moment.

            “I’m going to kiss you again,” he says softly, and sure enough, his lips crash against yours. He gently lowers you onto your back, one knee propping him up over you as the other presses between your legs. Your hair, splayed across the white suede of your sofa, makes Shouto want to see what it looks like when he dishevels it. His kisses trail from your lips to your neck, and you let out soft breaths as he marks the tender skin. When he pulls away, he’s satisfied with the bruises he’s left.

            “Shouto,” you gasp, and he presses another kiss to your lips in response.

            “Yes, [Name]?”

            You take a moment , your eyes darting from his eyes to his swollen lips and back to his eyes. “Shouto, I…” you pause, but the look in his eye urges you to finish your sentiment. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” you whisper, fingers tangling in his hair as he watches you with soft eyes.

            His heart clenches, and he lets out a soft sigh as he kisses you again, taking your breath away. “You are?”

            You nod, tears threatening to pool in your eyes. You’ve never seen the look in his eyes before.

            Shouto smiles—a genuine, heartwarming smile—and he presses his lips to the shell of your ear, his breath tickling you. His voice is so gentle, so tender, as he whispers, “Good. Because I’m falling for you, too.”