Tumgik
#About two or three more chapters left!
chaosduckies · 4 months
Text
I’m actually going to combust and explode. WHY IS IT SO HARD TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER OF RESTORATION OH MY GOSH. I’ve made three separate drafts and I don’t know which one to use, so I might just redo it again.
I swear I’m trying guys but I want these last few chapters to be amazing. So sorry for the wait 😞
6 notes · View notes
kachikirby · 1 year
Text
Kirby: Mysterious Incident on the Pupupu Train! - Chapter 7: Kirby's Great Singing Operation!
Previous Chapter
“...what!?”
King Dedede looked like he was about to fall over.
“It won’t end like this! York, I’ll thoroughly question you about your scheme later! You better prepare yourself!”
He rushed out of the dining car. The dumbfounded passengers began to shout.
“A-a-a shooting star!?”
“What’ll happen if we collide with it!?”
“Nothing good! The Pupupu Train will explode!”
During the chaos, Meta Knight approached York.
“A shooting star! Can the self-driving system avoid something like that...!?”
“It... it cannot...!” York staggard, dumbfounded. “To avoid collisions, the train tracks must be changed. It requires advanced calculations and techniques. There’s no way you can do it unless you’re an experienced driver!”
The passengers’ screaming increased.
“Then King Dedede can’t do a thing!”
“Waaaaaaahhh! I wanna go back to Dream Land!”
“We can avoid a collision with an experienced driver? Then we have no choice but to wake him up!” Meta Knight said.
“It’s...useless...!” York repeated the same phrase while trembling. “The effects of the slumbercumbers are very strong! You’ll wake up when the time comes, but until then, you can’t wake up!”
Bonkers grabbed York.
“This is all your fault! It’s all because you smuggled the slumbercumbers...!”
“No, I can’t believe this is happening...!” York cried.
The voices blaming York and the voices screaming mixed to create great chaos in the dining car. It was during all this...
“Everyone, be quiet!” A loud voice echoed.
It was Kirby, who had an unusually sharp expression. Everyone took a breath and looked at him.
“We just need to wake up the driver. If we can do that, we’ll all be saved.”
“Yes...” Meta Knight nodded. “Is there something that can do that, Kirby?”
“...I don’t know whether it’ll work or not, but...” Kirby clenched his fist. “I remembered something from this morning. Bonkers was sound asleep, but when I hummed a little, he immediately woke up.”
“...what?”
Everyone turned their attention to Bonkers. Bonkers spoke with a frown.
“It’s only natural. There’s no way Kirby can sing. If you all heard it too, there’s no way you... could... sleep...”
He then realized.
Kirby nodded. “I’ll sing with all my heart... right next to the driver and the others!”
“What are you saying?”
York shook his head in amazement.
“They shouldn’t wake up from something like singing! No matter how much you yell or shake them, they won’t wake up. That’s the effects of the slumbercumbers...”
“No, it’s a good idea.” Meta Knight said.
The passengers nodded with fascinated expressions. The kind-hearted Waddle Doo and the others said with tearful expressions.
“Uuu... uuu... I feel sorry for the driver and the others...”
“I’ll leave it to you, Kirby.” Meta Knight said.
“Got it! Walky, lend me your strength!”
Kirby turned to Walky and inhaled deeply. Walky panicked.
“Huh? You’re inhaling me? Kirby’s singing power is destructive as is... UAAAAAAAAA!!”
Walky flew through the air and into Kirby’s mouth. Suddenly, he transformed, gaining a pair of headphones on his head and a microphone in his hand.
Tumblr media
“Huh?! Mr. Kirby transformed...?!” York shouted in surprise.
Meta Knight explained.
“When Kirby inhales someone, he can take on that person’s abilities for himself. Because he inhaled Walky, he now has the Mic Copy Ability... wait, Kirby!”
He quickly put a stop to Kirby, who was about to sing at a moment’s notice.
Kirby then said. “I thought I would practice. Everyone, listen...”
“Stop. You don’t need to practice. Hurry to where the driver and the others are and sing in as quiet of a voice as you can.”
“...huh? But if I do that, they won’t wake up.”
“That’s not the case!”
Meta Knight forcefully persuaded Kirby.
“Your singing voice is fine! If you sing in a soft voice, the driver and the others will wake up immediately!”
“Is that so? Ehehe!” Kirby giggled in a shy voice.
“Anyway, get going, Kirby!”
“Got it! I’ll wake them up no matter what!”
Kirby rushed out of the dining car.
Meta Knight then shouted. “Everyone cover your ears and get down on the floor! Kirby’s singing voice will attack without mercy, even from a different vehicle entirely! Protect yourselves!”
The passengers did as they were told and fell to the floor while blocking their ears. Only York continued to stand, dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong, everyone? What are you all doing?”
“You should do the same thing, too! It’s about to get real dangerous!” Captain Vul said while still covering his ears.
“Dangerous? What exactly do you mean?”
York tilted his head in a mystified voice.
~~~~~~~~
Kirby rushed into the room where the driver and other staff members slept. The three of them were sleeping side by side. All of them looked healthy and had calm breathing.
“Just wait, I’ll let you hear a happy song.”
He took a breath and grasped his microphone.
“AHHH, AHHHH! IT’S MORNINGGG...MORNINGGG... A BEAUTIFUL MORNING...”
As Meta Knight told him to, he sang in a soft voice. The three bodies twitched in their sleep, and so did their peacefully sleeping faces.
“Oh, they’re moving a bit! They’ve been touched!”
Kirby became more and more enthusiastic. The first stage of the Mic Copy Ability, Megaphone, has been put into effect!
“WHAAAAT IS FOR BREAKFAAAAAST TODAAAAYYYY? IS IT PANCAAAKKKEESSS OR IS IT SANDWIICHHHHES?”
“Ughhhh...” The three staff members let out a painful moan. The strong effects of the slumbercumbers were about to be broken by Kirby’s singing! Kirby himself was having more and more fun. The second stage of the Mic Copy Ability, Desk Microphone, has been put into effect!
“DRINK SOME MIIIILLLKKKK! DRINK SOME JUICE TOOOOOOO! DESSERT IS YOGURT AND BANANAAAASSSS!”
“Uu... uuu...!” The three staff members tossed and turned many times over as they broke into a cold sweat.
And finally, the third stage of the Mic Copy Ability, Stand Microphone! Kirby closed his eyes as his body trembled and his voice resounded.
“DOOOAAAHHHHHHH!! IT WAS DELICOUUUUSSSS!! THE BREAKFAST! THE BREAKFAASSTTT! QUICKLY, QUICKLY COMEEEEEEE!! LUNCHTIME! OH, LUNCHTIMEEEEEE!”
“GWAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!”
The three staff members shouted as they sprung awake. With an unimaginable singing voice, the effects of the slumbercumbers were shattered.
“S-stop it, stop it...!”
“My...my head is pounding! My ears are ringing!”
“I was having such a wonderful dream... until that dream world was shattered!”
The crew members writhed as they covered their ears.
“Oh, you’re all awake! The power of singing is really amazing!”
Kirby was so happy that he somersaulted, the force of which caused him to drop the ability and caused Walky to roll out.
Walky then said. “Did you do it, Kirby?!”
“Yup! The three of them are awake and conscious!”
“Well then, let’s go quickly now!”
“Yeah!”
Kirby shook the driver.
“Mr. Driver! Mr. Driver! Come quickly! We have a problem! Come quickly!”
However, the driver clenched his eyes and shook him off.
“D-don’t touch me! Uu... even though I was having such a wonderful dream... let me go back to sleep!”
“You can’t! The Pupupu Train’s in great danger!”
“The Pupupu Train? Who cares about that... I wanna sleep...”
The driver mumbled, but in the blink of an eye, his eyes shot open.
“The Pupupu Train! No, wait, I’m in the middle of driving it! I felt like I just fell asleep... this is bad, this is bad!”
Upon hearing that, the maid and the conductor’s eyes also opened.
“Waah! I’m also on the clock! I carelessly dozed off!”
“I did, too! I wonder how long I was asleep for. I have to quickly go and clean all of the guest rooms!”
It was as if they had no idea what was going on while they were sleeping.
“Then you gotta come quickly! There’s a shooting star nearby and it’s likely to crash into us!” Kirby shouted.
“HUUUUHH?!”
The three staff members became pale.
“We can’t dodge it without the driver! Come quickly!”
“Oh no...!” The driver, still pale, jumped up and rushed to the cab.
~~~~~~~~
Kirby and Walky returned to the dining car. Everyone there was exhausted. The most severely affected was York. His eyes were white, and he fainted.
“What’s wrong with Mr. York?”
Kirby ran up to York, who was laying on the sofa.
“No way... did he also eat the slumbercumbers...!?”
“No...” Meta Knight answered with a soft voice. “He didn’t listen to my advice to cover his ears. Because of that, he received serious damage.”
“Huh? What happened?”
“...it’s nothing. Are the driver and the others awake?”
“Yup! They woke up refreshed!”
The weakened passengers breathed a sigh of relief as they applauded.
“Hurray! You did it, Kirby!”
“We knew you could! Like we knew we could withstand that singing!”
“Shh! Don’t say that!”
The applause grew louder and louder, causing York to wake up.
“U... uu... what was that horrible experience I had...”
York groaned as he woke up while Kirby reported happily about what happened.
“Ah! Mr. York! You’re awake! The driver and the others woke up!”
“...huh? Are you serious?”
“Yup! My song moved them, and they woke up! He’s heading straight for the cab now!”
“Song? Your song...? Uuuu... why... why is my head throbbing...” York uttered while holding his head.
“Has the driver returned to his post?”
“Yup! So did the conductor and maid!”
“That’s good.”
York raised his head and said in a clear voice. “Then everything is already taken care of. His driving skills are the best in my company. That means it’s the best in the galaxy. He can definitely avoid the shooting star!”
The passengers cheered and hugged each other.
“What a relief...! We’re saved!”
“I thought we were doomed!”
Within the cries of rejoicing, the door to the dining car opened and King Dedede entered. He said while staggering.
“That horrible singing voice... that was you, wasn’t it, Kirby! Well, don’t think I couldn’t have managed it on my own strength without the driver!”
He plopped down in a chair and glared at York.
“Now, to continue from earlier, York! I would like to say that I would like to question you about your evildoing...”
The king then looked away.
“We’ll talk about those annoying things later. We should celebrate the fact that we avoided this great disaster. It’s time for a sweets party!”
The passengers cheered with joy.
“Sweets and snacks!”
“Chef Kawasaki! Make a sweet cake!”
“Of course! Thanks to Captain Vul retuning the sugar, I can make lots of planned and even some new cakes!” Chef Kawasaki said with a smile.
“Hooray!”
There was great applause. However, it was at that moment that the conductor rushed in with a serious expression.
“I have a message from the driver! We’re too late to be able to avoid it!”
“...huh?”
The noisy dining car became dead silent.
The conductor shouted painfully.
“The speed of the shooting star is greater than we expected! Collision with the Pupupu Train is imminent...!”
~
Table of Contents
Next Chapter ->
23 notes · View notes
oloreaa · 1 year
Text
Can u guys believe that I wrote like 10k of ven in the last two days alone
11 notes · View notes
you-will-return · 10 months
Text
---
#i just noticed that i've been suuuper inactive on this blog#for which i'm sorry#but also uni has been hell#one of my professors has decided that we should do two courses worth of reading for her seminar every week#and i've been stuck in group project planning hell for like three weeks now#i also might have put a bit too much pressure on myself when it comes to project so besides correcting the new Hot Mess chpt#i've also been working on three other projects and still need to do work for my uni classes#i really wanted to put out the new chapter this week but that has.... left the realm of possibility#i want to write so so badly but i have to finish like 30 stickers/ finish 2 other chapters/ knit 2 scarves/ hand in 3 more projects#all before christmas#i read a post yesterday that was like name one thing that you're gonna do for yourself this week#and i came up blank#eveything i'm currently doing is either for class or for other people so they're happy#don't get me wrong i enjoy writing/ drawing/ knitting but...#i don't know#Hot Mess used to be my self-indulgent project but now#the seasonal mentol illness hasn't been helping either#all my friends are miserable and all i do is either drown myself in work or be miserable too#my last short story made my bff tell me to go talk to my therapist about it#so that's how my non-fanfic efforts have been going#there's another story i need to write a date chapter for but I haven't been able to write actual romance for about a year now#idk what's wrong#maybe nothing is wrong and this is just what i'm like when i'm off my meds and i simply forgot#i've been forgetting a lot of things
3 notes · View notes
Text
While I loved that interaction, that is all we got about something that could be taken as two of the most important (alive) people in Gojo's life mentioning him, thinking of him with fondness, or coming anywhere close to mourning him.
Then we got two pages of resolution of whatever emotional turmoil these two have going on
Tumblr media
#And I do love the Megumi and Shoko scene! I do love it! But come on!!!#When I say Gege Akutami is introducing a lot of whatever characters to give them an ending#and then doing nothing in comparison with the main cast I mean this kind of stuff#I get there's five episodes left and a lot of things and characters he wants to give closure to but precisely#There's just five chapters left. When Nanami died there was that short yet heavy scene between Ijichi‚ Shoko and Gojo#in which they mused there was only the three of them left anymore. There's nothing of the sort for Shoko or Ijichi now at the very end#The closest thing we've gotten is that one moment between Megumi and Shoko I just posted#And these dynamics are heavy and they imply very important characters pertaining to the main cast#Yet there's two pages of these two. Not to talk about the rushing of arcs that's been happening in these two last chapters#But if there's going to be truly a second part I think not entirely closed narrative arcs is not as terrible#But not closing 'emotional' arcs? That feels more clumsy to me. I don't think carrying 'emotional' arcs to a second part is as easy#The emotiveness and weight of the dynamics belong to this story. The author could extend on the second part more on idk#Megumi dealing with the loss of Tsumiki or Shoko with loneliness or whatever. For instance#But the very moment of grieving over Tsumiki or Gojo with everything they've been right after their loss with everything their loss means?#It belongs to this story alone. Just like the moment of dealing with Nanami's recent decease belonged to that moment/this story#And I feel the author is not giving at all the main characters almost any time to breath that for now. And idk. It's sad#And it's awkward writing I think. The absence so noticeable#And I feel it's something that can't be as easily done or added or developed later or on another story/part#So the numerous panels of much more secondary characters rushing narrative and emotional arcs for and with them feels to me a weird choice#All while Yuuji just made an offhand comment about Choso. All while Shoko had barely nothing at all. Ijichi and Todo had nothing#The Kamo boy had one panel. Nor Yuta nor Megumi nor Yuuji made any comment about Gojo#Perhaps we could admit those letters and that faint smile of Megumi as closure enough. But it's so weird#The panel proportion between main characters and very secondary characters and what they're being used for. It's weirdly distributed I think#It feels awkward and anticlimactic in a bad way#And it's very much a very clear example of what I meant every time I said JJK had the potential to be amazing and it's just mid haha#*sigh* it is what it is I guess#I don't want a second part at all tbh I hope they're not going with that#I talk too much#JJK spoilers
1 note · View note
jasontoddiefor · 1 year
Text
Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
30K notes · View notes
niennanir · 1 year
Text
Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
Tumblr media
Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
Tumblr media
No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
Tumblr media
use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
Tumblr media
Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
Tumblr media
You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
Tumblr media
Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
Tumblr media
Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
21K notes · View notes
reidmotif · 3 months
Text
Between the Books
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.
Word Count: 3.9 k
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. You’d say “hello” to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that stranger’s coat. 
Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil? 
Whatever it was, you couldn’t turn it off. And that’s why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. 
And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.
You’d taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs you’d go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.
 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid. 
The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him. 
Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man. 
You’d learned his name from the library card he’d brandish when it came time to check out materials. He’d frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits weren’t over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasn’t in the business of dressing casually.
 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed. 
His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, you’d assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.
 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall. 
You’d decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books he’d chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship. 
“Existentialist?” You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly. 
He blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. “Sorry, what?” 
“Existentialist.” You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him.  “Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.” 
He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. “No, no. Not an existentialist. I’d like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.” 
You smile, and nod. “I’d hope so.” Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. “Why the interest then?” There’s genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation. 
“I’m completing my Masters in Philosophy.” He responds. “We’ve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.”
 There’s a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, “Romantic?” 
You look at him in confusion. It’s your turn to not get the joke. “Sorry?” 
“Are you a romantic?” He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues. 
“You’re almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far I’ve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.” 
You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, he’d been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead. 
“Well, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, I’d argue.” You say, before nodding. “But, yeah. I guess I’d say I’m a fan of romance in novels.” 
He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not asking you if you’re a fan of romance in novels, I’m asking you if you’re a romantic.” He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement. 
“Just as much as anyone else, right?” You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement. 
“I see.” He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. “I’ll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if it’s as much of a love story as I remember.” 
“I think you’ll find it’s absolutely not.” You reply, smiling. “I believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if you’re actually interested.” There’s a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.
“Of course I’m actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.” He counters, grinning. 
“I mean- yeah, I am! It’s a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.” You say. There’s a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. “I’m also surprised you’re interested. I’m not always sure if it’s up everyone’s lane. Lots of people can’t get through it.” 
“I’m sure the least I can do is try.” He says, shrugging. 
You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. “Honestly, I’m even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.” You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it. 
He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies. 
“You’re pretty hard not to notice.” 
He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after he’d left. 
Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when he’d come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to. 
You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldn’t help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that. 
Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book he’d last asked you to read. 
You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where you’re locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night. 
There’s a part of you that wonders why he hasn’t asked you out. You wonder why you hadn’t asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes you’d catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon. 
You shrug it off. All in good time, right? 
It’s another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. You’d asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind. 
“I just- I don’t get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.” You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at home– while you were stuck here. 
He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.
 “I get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. I’m a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.” You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. “But no. I’m the one who has to go home late. I’m the one who’s on closing every single night. I’m sick of it.” 
He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal. 
“Like, is it really that hard?” You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each book’s proper place. “God forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I don’t know, hires someone else.” The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. “And another thing-” 
In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted,  missing the step on the stool that would’ve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize you’re falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencer’s arms catching you. 
“You alright?” He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you might’ve hurt yourself on your descent. 
It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfect– and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them. 
You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldn’t leave you so absolutely tongue tied. “No, no. I’m fine, honestly.” You step back, wiggling your leg a little. “See? Entirely fine.” 
He smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I just get worried. I’m a doctor, you know.” He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer. 
“Not an actual doctor.” You say, rolling your eyes fondly. 
“Come on.” He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. “Humor me.” 
There’s that grin again, and you can’t help but relent. 
And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it should’ve been for a friend checking up on another friend. 
“You know.” He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. “I don’t actually think this is the worst shift to take on.” 
Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and there’s a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words. 
“Oh? Why is that?” You force out. 
“It’s so quiet.” He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. “Nobody’s even in here at this point.” 
You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 
“I like the quiet.” He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. “There’s just so much more you can get done when it’s quiet.” 
You nod and half heartedly mumble. “Mhm.” You’re far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until he’s standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness. 
“I can feel your heart beating.” He mumbles. “So fast. Do I make you nervous?” 
You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the closeness. I’m not used to it.” You whisper, eyes opening– and his gaze is as intense as ever. 
One of his hands goes to cup your face. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to kiss you now.” 
You don’t move a single muscle. 
And then all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He’s pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like he’s been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You don’t want space– not now, or ever again. 
“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. You’d never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs. 
He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before. 
“You’re so pretty.” He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. It’s almost like he’s hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.
You’re breathing so heavily, and you think it can’t possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening. 
“Need to taste you. Please.” 
He’s begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out. 
And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need?  
“Yes.” You whisper out, and in record time, he’s undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. You’re half surprised he didn’t just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment. 
You’re suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly.  You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think you’d topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all. 
“Fuck.” You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. “Fuck. Gonna come.” You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release. 
Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and you’re fighting back a scream. 
How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you? 
How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how they’d feel inside you?
It didn’t matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.
“Spencer!” You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know you’re an absolute goner. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 
Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, you’re coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.
The sight is downright sinful.
“You taste so good.” He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and you’re already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 
His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum. 
“You ready, pretty girl?” He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. You’ve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next. 
You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against  his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly. 
How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you? 
It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. “You feel so fucking good.” He murmurs. “Can I move? Are you okay?” He asks, softly. 
His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and you’re nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act. 
His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before he’s truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end. 
You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You can’t even find it in yourself to care– all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when he’s fucking you like this. 
You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor. 
“Spencer, Spencer!” You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesn’t once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good. 
“We’re gonna be caught!” You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked. 
“No, we won’t.” He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if that’s possible, eyes dark. 
The sight makes a shiver go up your spine. 
“Stay quiet.” He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt. 
“Feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up, nice and slow?” He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close he’s standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release. 
“Shh. I know.” He murmurs. “Come for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.” 
It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, you’re coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to. 
The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well,  a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could. 
Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. You’re still in a slight haze from the two orgasms he’d just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything,  and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.
“Let’s get out of here.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once. 
“That was..” You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened. 
“I know. I- uh. Might’ve gotten carried away?” He says. “I usually like to do that after a date. I just-” He steps closer, cupping your cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I hope that’s okay.” He whispers. 
“More than okay.” You whisper back. 
His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. “Could we? Date? Try this out?” He murmurs. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.” 
You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out. 
“Yes.” You nod. “Let’s try this.” 
He’s got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief  can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you can’t help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out. 
You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic. 
You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you. 
Tumblr media
this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3
3K notes · View notes
a-b-riddle · 5 months
Text
Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
3K notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
Text
🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
Tumblr media
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
3K notes · View notes
acid-ixx · 3 months
Text
prequel: again &. again. (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: prequel, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
read until the end for an author's note.
what hurts more when it comes to neglectful batfam that adopted you after jason's death (that eventually turns a 360 after you have left) is probably the fact that they always had time for you, it's just that they never chose to spend it on you; an extra burden to their family rather than an addition. if they had time to spend, they spend it on anything or anyone else but you. it's not that you don't share interests with them, it's just...! they have way more priorities that push you further back into their list of 'to do's'; though you know you'll always be the last of that list.
bruce has to juggle so many tasks as the billionaire playboy "brucie wayne", a father of an ever growing family, and gotham's dark knight vigilante but somehow, you're aware he could easily fit in one or two more children into his already booked schedule— he just never seems to consider you worthy enough apparently. or maybe it was because you were too silent, you set boundaries compared to your other family who are outspoken about what they want, what they need— but there's one thing for sure that sets you off from your siblings; you're not a vigilante.
you were merely a child of a one night stand; a child raised too well. you were behaved, you never complained, and you were just, you. and being normal (at least in their level of extraordinary talents were you a mere droplet) amongst a family of talented individuals makes you easily a ghost. was bruce to blame with his neglect? definitely. if he was able to balance his life so easily, then maybe as the world's best detective would he notice you packing your things day by day without update. maybe that was why you never once hesitated the moment you stepped outside the manor, permanently.
Tumblr media
dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.
family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.
Tumblr media
jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.
casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.
Tumblr media
tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.
it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.
Tumblr media
damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.
maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.
Tumblr media
when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.
that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you but—
wait...
didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?
Tumblr media
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)
heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
taegularities · 2 months
Text
colour me in: palette | jjk (m)
Tumblr media
Summary: Breezy mountaintops and turquoise oceans are even more enchanting with Jungkook by your side. Yet, throughout your vacation, you realise — even once you've left the lofty peaks and liberating waves behind, you'll still elevate each other to new heights every day.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; tiny hints of angst, crazy much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: okayyy. a shit ton of fluff. vacation with their friends!!!, kissing, singing, sexual tension, slippery soccer lolll, bit of acrophobia, someone flirts with oc, bit of jealousy, lots of taeun and yoonmin moments, new dynamics!!!, mountains and beaches, jimin/jk moments :'), deep talks, some insecurities, bunk beeeeds lol, mention of homophobia, small arguments, anger, talk about passing of time; explicit sexual content: hotel room sex :O, light spanking/ass stuff, kissing and making out, teasing, neck kisses!!, jk never gets enough, bit of manhandling, pussy slapping, big dick!jk, soft dom!jk, oc is soaked, they're both wearing their shirts/naked downstairs tho (impatience sigh), oral (f. & m. receiving), bit of mouthfucking, soft and rough sex, mention of sex toys, slapping with his dick ig, masturbation, spit, edging?, choking, he likes her bewbs and a$$, squirting, they ruin the hotel room bed lol, showering together; the ending 🥺 ➳ word count: 32.6k ➳ a/n: gosh, it's been mooonths. did y'all miss them as much as i did :') the distance really brought me closer to them. some more of my soul in this chapter <3 there'll be angst ahead, so enjoy this one thoroughly and with all your heart. thank you for all the support, too <3 i can't wait to hear what you guys think 🤍 ➳ listen to: can't help falling in love by haley reinhart (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist 🤍
Tumblr media
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
Tumblr media
DAY 1
“Bunk beds… Fu. Cking. Bunk. Beds.”
Jimin scarcely seems impressed with the change in plans that the hostel is forcing your group into. You haven’t quite yet deciphered what’s going on; you’ve been waiting in the lobby with pursed lips and tired eyes, Jimin at the front desk, discussing details that he’s now groaning about.
“Wait… what?” Eun asks, eyes scanning the group members, all equally confused.
Jimin, as agitated as you haven’t seen him in a while, plumps into one of the lobby’s upholstered sofa chairs, massaging his forehead, seemingly preparing to narrate a tale without a happy ending. He sighs, raising his hand as if to teach calculation to a child, and starts explaining.
“We’d booked three rooms, right? But one of them has a leak.” Short pause; Taehyung clicks his tongue. “So now they offered to keep one with the queen size bed and then get another room with two bunk beds. We’d pay less. Or. We keep the other two rooms with the beds, and still pay for the bunk bed room since one couple will still need it.”
“Same price?” Yoongi inquires, aside from Jungkook, the calmest in the room.
“Oh my god,” Eun whispers, matching Jimin’s drama-loving freak, “this is… we’re being robbed.”
“So,” Yoongi tries again, a deep voice interrupting your best friends’ growing hysteria, “we just pay less and get the bunk bed room for four people, no?”
Eun and Jimin stare at the man as if he’s uttered sheer nonsense; Eun’s eyes squint, questioning how he’d dare separate her from her boyfriend. And Jimin, his expression equal to Eun’s, directs the disbelief between his eyebrows directly at his lover speaking.
But as the options start to waver, Eun sighs, leaning back in defeat as she mumbles, “I guess…”
“Yeah, and then, who’s getting the queen sized bed?” you ask carefully, likely initiating another feud; but what else can you do? You need to resolve the issue on hand and you’re dog tired; you need to nap for an hour at least. “How do we decide that?”
“That’s the question,” Jimin declares, rubbing his hands before he announces, “I think we’ll have to fight for it, folks.”
“…How?”
Multiple pairs of eyes drift to the ceiling in thought, attempting to come up with a fair idea or some game. But their schemes are probably too intricate, building scenarios that aren’t feasible in this very situation; you can already tell.
That is, until Taehyung speaks up, slapping his thigh as he finally answers, “We’ll just go the easiest way we know.”
The fact that Jungkook and Yoongi puff out a breath of air is understandable; as Kim Taehyung’s closest pals, they’re bound to know which thought lit up his brain. But by now, even you understand the man’s tactics well enough, and before you can verbalise them, Yoongi does.
“…Wait. You want to rock paper scissors this out?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“We just pull names? Or spin the wheel? There are plenty of sites on the Internet.”
“No,” Jimin again, “I don’t trust any of you to not manipulate this.”
Voices soon mingle, offended by Jimin’s distrust, retorts flying around such as, “Oh, thanks for this,” or “Why would we manipula—”
“Come on!” Jimin defends, cutting through the cacophony of arguments. “We’re all a bunch of newlyweds! Nobody wants to sleep without the other.”
Well… maybe he’s not wrong there. Over the last several weeks, you’ve grown accustomed to your boyfriend’s warmth next to you; under your head; beneath your palm. His breath against your cheeks and the chin in your mane.
Which is why you tilt your head in slight, approaching worry, leaning into Jungkook’s embrace, his arm over your shoulders. You look at him until he stares back, telling him as the others argue, “This is terrible. I just got used to sleeping with you and…”
But he shakes his head in reassurance, blinking slowly. Gently grabs your hand off his chest and intertwines your fingers, promising that, “It’s okay, babe. Whatever game they want to play, we’ve got this.”
If he says it, you must believe it. Losing would be counterproductive for this trip; you required this time-out with him for the sake of your sanity, considering the weight of the past months.
And thinking about it, you’ve gotten used to his presence too much to sleep without it. You reminisce about the nights he hit the gym late, barely finding time throughout the day as he worked on his exhibit pieces, permanent smudged hues colouring the sides of his hands.
And you, exhausted from work, grazed the other side of the bed with a half sleeping, half restless mind, waking up time and time again to find the mattress empty. Whenever he did come back, sliding into the sheets, you’d notice.
Notice everything.
How he’d kiss your forehead or your temple, whispering your name or a soft, “Hi, angel,” without really expecting a response back. He’d pull you half on top of his body, chest rising with your head atop as he sighed and then, eventually, drifted off.
You think that once or twice, you even heard him breathe a nearly inaudible confession, starting with your new favourite letter L.
But…
It seems that today, luck isn’t quite on your side; different from what he foretold, you haven’t got this. Because mere five minutes later, you’re staring into a group of shaking heads and devastated faces.
Jimin and Yoongi have lost already; and when it’s time to decide between the remaining of you four, it’s not you who breaks into cheerful laughter but the couple you’ve decided to regard with a pout for the rest of the trip.
Unnecessary to mention that Tae and Eun dash into their room once they’ve received the key, quick enough for their suitcases to collide with their soles as they roll behind them. The two remaining duos, among them a sighing Jungkook and a disappointed you, trudge to the bunk bed room without any rush.
Jimin and you sulk your way through the hallways, but Yoongi and Jungkook, you soon notice, remain familiarly posed. You don’t get it; aren’t they upset about the separation?
Your boyfriend at least is still sporting an encouraging smile when you open the door to the frustratingly compact room. The two pairs of bunk beds have a sufficient distance between them, but the beds themselves barely fit a person. You’ve been played so bad.
“And what if we do take the second double room and let fate decide between us?” Jimin suddenly suggests, and you nearly buckle, ready to get into position and lift your fist for another game.
But Yoongi pushes between the two of you, clicking his tongue, “Nah. It’s just two nights, we’ll be moving on after that anyway. Besides,” he sets his suitcase against the left bunk bed, claiming it, and ruffles through his long, dark hair, “we can’t leave the last couple all alone here.”
You smirk in mock, tilting your head, “Ha-ha. You’re way too sure of victory. You wanna try right now, Min—”
“Come on,” Jungkook tries, two heavy hands settling on your shoulders before he moves them down and rubs your shoulders in affection, “solidarity, baby. It’ll be fun.” He moves in, close to your face, kisses your cheek and then whispers into your ear, “We’ll have our room at the beach. And then a whole week just for us, remember?”
Oh, as if you could forget.
Jungkook’s hometown will be the third and last stop of your vacation, a wedding and a childhood bedroom awaiting you. You can’t predict what those days in the countryside will bring, but you refuse to think about them; not because you’re reluctant to go, but because you want the place to surprise you.
Nevermind that the thoughts still seep through all the time; the pure elation.
Your face warms at the thought; you’ve communicated it a million times and will say it a billion times more — you don’t think you’ve ever been this pumped in your life.
No — do not think about it. Let it come to you… carpe diem and all that.
You jump back into the moment, right into the banter, placing your suitcase on the floor and opening it to rummage for today’s outfit. As you shamelessly lay open your entire wardrobe, including some of your best lingerie, you tease, “Okay. I’ll save up my energy. More tonight, boys.”
Jimin blows a raspberry at you; Yoongi waves you off with a grin; and Jungkook barely reacts to you. You assume he’s tired from all the driving, requiring rest more than you, eyes half-lidded.
But if you were in his head, you’d know that he’s long dissociated from the conversation, blending out words, movements, reactions; rather, he merely observes your smile. The playful crease between your eyebrows. The curve of your lips as you speak.
Blinking slowly; lucky for the force of nature wafting into his life like a brisk autumn wind.
Lucky, knowing that somebody could actually care so much.
Tumblr media
The pullover doesn’t feel as soft and smooth between your fingertips as it looked from afar. You don’t think you’ll take it. But the beige cardigan felt like a shawl made of accumulated feathers against your body; and Jungkook approved of it, too.
You’re liking the village; maybe it’s the overall dreamy and magical vibe it emanates. It’s redolent of cosy nights spent in front of a fireplace, a hot tea cup warming your palms as you study the view out of a small window, the far-reaching blankets of snow.
And the scent of wooden houses and cinnamon travels through this place — you can’t describe it, but you urge to take all the earthy colours with you.
The pink dress, however, hugging your body like second skin, is bright, the opposite of the cardigan you’ve already settled on buying. It’s a fall dress, comfortable and adaptable to any situation.
You turn in front of the mirror, inspecting your ass, your curves, checking the length and the material for possible flaws. And once you’ve convinced yourself, you push the curtain aside, seeking a second opinion from the man patiently sitting in front of the changing room.
Upon seeing you, his eyes brighten the way they did the last couple of times. Even when he didn’t quite like the item you chose, he seemed happy to just see you. But this time, his pupils flit from button to top, the sparkle in them already obvious as he says, “Damn.”
“I take it you like it as much as I do.”
“Do one of your three sixty spins.”
He loves those. Enjoys it when you present yourself with that treacly smile of yours, arms angled and slightly in the air. And when you come to a stand again, the dress still sways, your eyes questioning, sweet, pure. Jungkook finds joy in this; he could look at you doing this all day.
You keep asking, “Are you bored? Wanna go somewhere else?”
And he always responds, “No. Show me another one of the dresses.”
But no matter how boundless his enthusiasm, he can’t control his occasionally occurring ticks — you know they’re a sign of a nervous mind, watching his fidgety self card through his hair or move his leg or cross and uncross his arms.
So you ask, “You okay?”
“Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m just tired,” he explains, “driving all day made me drowsy.”
Well, okay, that could be a reason. He does get restless when he craves his bed. Kudos to him for still enduring your slow ass at shopping. You hum before you remind him, “I told you to let me drive.”
“Yes, but…. I like driving,” he shrugs his shoulders, pouting a little, “and you were having fun.”
Honestly—
Fun is a way to call it. You pluck at the hem of the fall dress, recalling the morning with a fond but slightly guilty smile.
Tumblr media
“Okay. Lean back now.”
The road was challenging, Jungkook’s voice too quiet to prevail over the music, and you too reckless. Despite the chaos, his grin was telling — though the crinkles and dimples disappeared when half your body turned towards the backseat; right when the car approached a sharp curve.
A harsh hand pushed your beaming self back into your seat, and he spat a single warning, “Angel!”
You’d separated the large group — Jimin was driving the other car, alternating with Taehyung. The journey wasn’t awfully long, but you still went the fair route and split your circle in three versus three, Yoongi residing in the back of your car.
Your car because you’d be driving on to the wedding anyway, and Yoongi would then proceed the vacation in Taehyung’s vehicle. But while your excitement for Jungkook’s hometown didn’t dim a single bit, you were a little sad that you’d be leaving earlier, not getting more time with Yoongi.
Because he vibed. With the right people, you heard, and now witnessed, he vibed.
He sang along with the music in confidence, flashing gummy smirks, DJ-ing with you. Sharing the same taste in music as you, the moments were never dull, 80s classics chiming before modern hip hop took their place. Yoongi likes J. Cole particularly.
The two of you were exhausting, but you did pamper the driver enough to not let your annoying self become too obvious. As in, feeding Jungkook snacks whenever you could, indulging in his favourite music when your tracks ended, offering to drive.
Jungkook remained in a good mood most of the way, but nearing the end, he got edgy, tired, even disregarding Yoongi’s sarcastic suggestion to drive wordlessly.
It took you a moment to understand — Yoongi isn’t a bad driver at all, as you’ve been told by himself, but he’s still not fully healed yet. None of you would make him and he wouldn’t risk it.
Mad respect to Jungkook for suffering through your shenanigans and then still being your anchor as the trouble about the rooms began at the hostel.
You’re a handful — but he has confessed a hundred times before that he’d rather have that than an empty palm.
Tumblr media
“No wonder you’re tired,” you tell him, flattening the already crinkle-free dress before you add, “Poor Jimin and Yoongi. Were separated in the cars and now in the hostel, too.”
“I mean,” Jungkook starts, “they both seemed to have a good time on the way, though. Other than that, have they even made stuff official yet?”
Good question. Barely occurred to you yet. You think back to the last couple of weeks, to each of the weekend meetings that you’d summon everybody to in order to discuss the trip. Nothing was said then. Nothing has been said since this morning, either.
So you say, “Kind of by just being with each other the way they are, right? To be honest, I didn’t even think about it. For me, it was already official… didn’t think it’d need an announcement.”
“Maybe you’re right? It’s as much of a secret as we are.”
You break into a grin. “Right?” And then, you straighten your stance, once more turning to show off your ass, too, just for good measure. “What do you think?”
“Oh, you should buy it.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it’d be good to look at and then fun to rip off.”
You roll your eyes so hard, they nearly disappear from his sight; partly to hide the effect his words practise on you — face hot, chest tight, legs crossed to ease the physical feeling that emerges.
And then, partly to remind him of where he’s sitting right now — not far from an elderly lady who’s currently side-eying you. Weird; just a minute ago she was smiling at you. Ah, decency.
“Ugh, can you only think about that?” you joke, right before wiggling a finger. “This one’s expensive. You’re not ripping off shit.”
“Hey, don’t scold me. You’re just as bad!”
“I’m not! In case you don’t remember, I totally resisted when you offered to come into the changing room with me.”
“Ah, ahhh,” he teases, cocking an eyebrow, “in case you don’t remember, only very reluctantly.” You can’t suppress the laugh, and he joins, familiar creases around his stellar eyes. “But seriously, you look gorgeous.”
“Right! I’ll wear it to your next exhibition, okay? Or the party you’ll definitely host once you’ve established yourself as the nation’s biggest artist.”
And that’s when he finally gets up, groaning a tiny bit before he slaps your ass and rubs it, delighted at your yelp. Challenges you, “Decide whether you want to be cute or sexy. I can’t handle both.”
“But you do every day,” you say, sulking. But your expression returns to normal when he pinches your butt, and you click your tongue, “Okay, okay. We’ll see what you can handle once we get to our next destination.”
Where you’ll finally have your own bedrooms. Your peace. Your mattress to be demolished.
Excited doesn’t do this feeling justice.
Jungkook must be thinking something similar; at least that’s what you ascertain from the way he tongues his inner cheek, shaking his head. You don’t provoke him further — only blow a kiss before you saunter back into the changing room.
You purchase the dress, stepping into the fall air, and move your head left and right in search of the rest of you. You ask, “Have you seen the others? I think we lost them at the souvenir shop, but they might be nearby.”
“Yeah, they went into another souvenir sho— wait, that’s Eun, isn’t it?”
You squint into the distance.
God, this place is like a Christmas market straight from 90s movies. Traditional and homely, domestic and gentle. Oozes some type of warmth that defeats the slightly chill breeze by miles.
And you’re so loving the shops. They’re small, their owners as hospitable as you haven’t met in ages. They talk to you, treat you like one of their own, never attempting awkward conversation and always providing their honest opinion. The lady you just bought the dress from even told you to visit again.
Shit, and the stalls! They’re popular spots; the backbone of the tourism in this area. Sell all kinds of snacks — candied fruits, hot drinks, gingerbread. October hasn’t ended yet, but you crave your golden Christmas lights.
Somewhere not too far, you finally recognise Eun and Yoongi, too, standing at the punch stall, ordering. Thinking about it, it’s been a while since you ate or drank — and just imagining the fruity flavour, you can’t help but suggest, “Ohhh, I should get some, too. Wanna come?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Your suspicion from before somewhat returns; his thoughts don’t seem to align with yours right now. In fact, you guess them far away, pondering about anything but punch.
You’re moved to ask again, but before you can utter a word, he answers, “Hmm, no, I think I’ll get a coffee a bit later. I’ll go find Jimin and Taehyung in the meantime, though? You go get your punch.”
You blink at him, not sure if you should try again. But when you can’t find a reason for any deviation in mood, you give him the free space he might need, telling him, “Okay. You know where to find us if you need to.”
“Got it,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead, and then walks away when you do.
Just once more, you turn, gaping over your shoulder in confusion; but he seems okay. Occupied by the view, craning his neck to look at the mountain nearby, at the very peak you’ll reach tomorrow.
So you turn away, only for him to regard you a moment later.
Tumblr media
Jungkook watches as you reach your friend, Eun’s arm cheerfully wrapping around your shoulders, welcoming you in. You give the stall owner a knockout smile, and once distracted enough, Jungkook directly charges for the shop the two of you walked past earlier.
It’s still mostly empty when he reaches it. One young man, much like him, is standing inside, discussing an object lying on the pult between him and the seller. Jungkook glances through the store window, spying the object of his desire, and then walks in.
Enduringly, he waits for the other man to finish. Seems he is a customer, too, buying his grandmother a gift for her birthday. And it looks like he’s more or less firm on his decision, because not even two minutes later, he has thanked the woman behind the counter and left.
Jungkook, equally determined, points to the purchase he’d like to make, making small-talk with the woman now and then before she disappears in a small room at the back and packs the object.
And Jungkook waits… waits calmly until a voice breathes a, “What you doing?” into his ears, scaring him to death. The woman leans back, peeking, alarmed as she asks in an accent, “Everything good?”
Jungkook waves her concerns off. Lets her work. Turns to Jimin as he says, “Goddamn, dude. Don’t do that.”
“You look like you saw a ghost. Are you hiding something?” he asks, right before the lady walks out and presents the pretty packaging and small bag to Jungkook. “Oh! Is this for me?”
Jungkook pays with a scoff, carefully placing it in his bag and then laughs, “C’mon.” And once the rucksack is back on his shoulders, he bids his goodbyes to the seller, leading Jimin outside and whispering as if you could hear, “Alright. It’s for her. I’ll give it to her at the wedding.”
“Damn, a little present for the date at a wedding? You’re down bad.”
“How did you guess that?” Jimin chuckles, patting Jungkook’s back as the younger one smirtles. Soon telling Jimin, “Not a word to her, though. Or anyone. Okay?”
“My lips are sealed.”
That’s it. At least for a while. Both pairs of hands pushing into their jeans’ pockets at once, they trek side by side in silence, head moving left, right, up and down. It’s awkward until it isn’t — until Jimin collects some courage and then spits, “Listen.”
Another pause. Just for a moment. Enough for Jungkook’s tremendous eyes to look up, a finger scratching his temple as he hears Jimin articulate words he never expected, “I know I said my piece that night already, but…” A grimace, kissing his lips, then, “I’m really sorry for doubting you so much at first. I should’ve given you a chance much sooner.”
Well, fuck. 
For weeks and months, Jimin refused to trust him with a steadfast resolution. Didn’t waver even when you attempted to convince him otherwise. There was a prickly dislike in the man’s eyes that irked Jungkook, and frankly, saddened him a little.
But the night you drunk-called him, begging to come back, minutes before he chauffeured all of you home, something shifted. Jimin’s stance towards Jungkook had seemed to change, at least. Actually a grateful occurrence to think back to, considering how much Jungkook fucked up at that time…
“But you have given me a chance now,” Jungkook defends, Jimin nodding, “and I appreciate that just as much.”
“You remember what I said to you back then?”
Of course… he might remember each detail of that night forever.
“Of course,” Jungkook echoes, “you said you were growing fond of me. Trusted me.”
“And I meant it.”
“She said you said it because you knew she was fond of me.”
Jimin chuckles, the sound high-pitched and pleasant, melodic. “Well, I guess that’s true to some extent. But it’s definitely not just that.” He reviews his thoughts; then, “It’s more so the fact that you came back.”
That he came back.
Jimin doesn’t mention that he came back because you called. Because somewhere within, he must know as well as the man beside him that Jungkook was going to come back anyway.
Nobody here doubts his feelings for you. And in some way, this is a reassurance of trust he didn’t think he needed.
“And in hindsight,” Jimin speaks on, “while I disagree with what you did before that,” a sting in Jungkook’s beating heart, “I think your reasons were selfless. Lack of communication here and there, but… you want her happy, right?”
There’s no debate about this.
“So much,” Jungkook immediately agrees, “it just doesn’t make sense, you know? That someone like her should be sad.”
“I agree. And you came back, that’s what it is. You’re here. I think I was fond of you because you gave her a sense of… safety.” He shrugs his shoulders, hands still buried in his pockets. Gives a glance to the variety of passersby. “Making her feel protected and like she was worth something when others didn’t. And in turn, you gave her something to fight for, too.”
Something to fight for… someone to fight for.
How hard is it to wrap your head around the fact that somebody thinks you worthy enough to combat the world for?
Jungkook’s heart stirs. A sudden affection for your friend awakens. No. His friend, too.
“You’re just half as bad, huh?” he says, urging another laugh out of Jimin.
“No, you.” More snicker. “But seriously. Since we were teenagers and she was first confronted with… all the issues around her, she’s repeated to me everybody has demons to fight. A couple weeks ago she said it again… added that you do, too. No details, no worries!”
He raises his hand in defence, and Jungkook shakes his concerns off, mumbling that it’s okay, that it’s true.
So Jimin continues, “But just… whenever you might feel like you’re not doing enough — because let’s be real, we all do sometimes — remember that you make at least one person happy.”
Crazy. This is crazy. An alternate reality, for sure.
“I never expected to hear this from you, but… I really am thankful, Jimin.”
Jimin nods before he stops, as if remembering something. “And if it helps. I’m really glad you joined us here. I mean you know Tae and Yoongi better, but Eun loves you.”
Jungkook titters, shy as Jimin nudges his arm, but silencing when he looks ahead, not early enough to stop Jimin’s addition, “And by the way, she’ll love that. Will feel like the bride, probably—”
Jungkook grits his teeth at the very last word, as if staggered by another ghost appearing in front. Jimin’s eyes follow Jungkook’s, eyes widening a couple inches as he realises his mistake; met with your bright gaze as you near the men with Eun and question, “What are you guys talking about?”
You’re so cheerful and curious, impossible to resist. Jimin’s lie nearly doesn’t come out, but when it does, it happens smoothly enough, “He was just gushing about your dress. Told me how he already knows you’ll be the talk of the night.”
“Come onnnn,” you urge, your smile falling, replaced by a scowl, “this is so weak. I know you, Park. That’s not what you were talking about.”
“It is!” Jungkook chimes in as shamelessly as he can. Guilt floods him — but there are certain sacrifices that are necessary for love, aren’t there? “I told you many times how hot you look in it. I did, you can’t contradict that.”
Jungkook’s acting might be getting better, but you still squint your eyes, still pulling a face. But it seems they are conspiring against you; Jungkook clearly sees you give up. Understand that you won’t get anything out of them.
Besides, you love surprises. You won’t ruin it for yourself.
So you wave the white flag, only saying, “I don’t really believe you, but okay,” before turning, gripping Jungkook’s hand and adding, “Listen. You don’t get to drink a good punch every day. Screw the coffee, try it for me. Yoongi is still there.”
And as the two of you walk away, Jimin follows, ignoring Eun’s curious look. Focuses on how Jungkook turns to him just a little, smiling in mischief but also in something like…
Friendship.
Tumblr media
Jungkook has been babbling his mouth dry. You know of his temporary hyperfixations; alternating between cooking twice a day, karaoke-ing his way through a lazy weekend or playing Overwatch for four hours straight and of course, you.
Tonight, it’s gimbap.
You’ve heard a ton about it today; from his favourite kind to how it’s made to failures in his past as he first attempted them. Anecdotes and urges.
When you went to the restaurant earlier, he inhaled a gigantic portion of jjajangmyeon, followed by kimchi-bokkeumbap that he partly shared with your still hungry self. His idea was to order some gimbap as another course, but his grunts and groans revealed that he was done for the night.
Or so you thought.
Because hours and a trip to the old town and its popular fountain later, he’s still craving them, restless on the hostel lobby couch as he says, “Do they have room service or something? Do they sell gimbap?”
His attention is directed towards Jimin, the main organiser of your trip; everybody’s been posing questions today as if he’s studied the town and journey to the tiniest detail. Jimin rubs a palm over his tired eyes, sighing before he speaks.
“No, this isn’t a very luxurious place anyway,” he explains, “and besides. You’re making me hungry, too.”
Jungkook leans into him as he asks, “Aren’t you quite close with the receptionist?” Pause. “Do you think they’d let us take a couple things from the kitchen and make it ourselves?”
“Wow, you really are craving it,” Taehyung mocks, but Jungkook skillfully ignores him.
“Jungkook, this is a lot of special treatment to ask for,” Jimin then claims, waiting for a response, but nothing comes back.
You lean forwards when your friend shakes his head, trying to understand what’s going on. And when you find Jungkook’s big, twinkling eyes staring longingly, you know he’s gotten to Jimin, too. Because the latter sighs again, adding, “If you charm them, maybe.”
“Come on. I know how to charm people,” he says, regarding you with a wink, a flick of your chin and a click of his tongue, all at once. You whisper a playfully indignant Damn, watching him get to a stand.
He’s brave, you must say; for an initial and past introvert, good food certainly makes him courageous. Jimin first gestures towards the reception, mumbling a, “Go ahead,” but barely a second later, he’s on his feet with a deep exhale, hearing Jungkook say, “Decided to help me?”
“Only because I’m hungry, too. Can make them together.”
Whatever scenario you just witnessed, it could’ve been one from a sitcom. Those little filler scenes, there for comic relief. But what strikes you the most of all is the dynamic you just watched emerge.
You’re surprised to the core; these two, doing something together? Peacefully? Voluntarily?
As your eyes bolt from the duo to the hanging guitar at the wall and then to your friends, you let out a tiny laugh, delivering a short head tilt before you deduce, “That’s new.”
It’s quite a show, the one you observe from here. Your friends are already too groggy to converse, instead indulging in the scene: Jungkook and Jimin as they converse with the receptionist, leaning in, telling the young man about their day.
Then, the quiet plea, as sweetly uttered as possible; you know these two. You know they’re pulling out the biggest, brownest eyes the world shall ever see, the mellowest voices outing their plea — and to your utter surprise, the receptionist gives in.
Leads them to another room, probably the breakfast hall, and around five minutes later, they reemerge.
Your group giggles when they come out with a wink, Jungkook forming a tiny ‘Oh’ with his mouth, as if to whistle without ever doing it. They don’t come back to you yet; settle on another table at the back instead, hands full of ingredients. There’s more room there for sure.
They spread the stuff across the table, rolling up their sleeves. You can’t really hear their conversation from here, but Jungkook says something and Jimin smirks back with a slight shake of his shoulders. Then, they start, but not before choosing a playlist to play quietly as they attempt the gimbap journey.
You can’t believe it. What an odd sight — but good for them.
“That’s rare indeed,” Eun lets slip before she turns back to you and the group, falling back into the couch.
You nod, looking through the round. Different from the two across the room, the atmosphere here is dead. So you wait; wait for an opportunity until Yoongi, opposite from you, gives you one. His eyes roam the room, soon stopping at the guitar from before. He regards it entirely, like a piece in a museum.
You ask, “Hey. Do you play?”
“Hm?” Yoongi looks back at you, puppy eyes in full effect, and then switches between you and the instrument. “Ah. Yeah, I play sometimes.”
“He plays all the time,” Taehyung corrects.
Yoongi raises a hand in something like defence, humble as ever as he says, “I’ve been learning. But I think I have gotten better, though there’s still a long way to go.”
“Any song you enjoy playing the most?” you ask, leaning in.
“Ohh, you’ll like this.” His eyes are widening, waking, sobering up. As you see new stars being born in his dark eyes, you know you’ve introduced the right topic. “You like oldies, don’t you?”
“I do, actually! How do you know?”
Taehyung chimes in, “Jungkook told us. Like literal months ago.”
Perhaps it’s the new sentiments you’re still accommodating yourself to, but you feel the heat filling up your entire chest, moving up to your cheeks and providing warmth in the eye of this autumn.
You peek at your boyfriend and your friend, catching them falling into a goofy cooking session. Jimin grabs the dark soy sauce bottle, attempting to pour the liquid on his plate with the most dramatic expression you have ever witnessed, only to realise a moment later that he hasn’t even opened it yet.
Both of them break into an embarrassed and amused chuckle, Jimin shaking his head, and before you can melt into the leather couch, you look away with a smile.
“Wait,” you say, “in which context? I’m nosy, and now I want to know.”
“He said Yoongi would like you because your favourite song is… what was it again?”
Taehyung directs his gaze imploringly to Yoongi, but it’s Eun who answers fondly, “It’s Can’t Take My Eyes off You. Ever since… always.”
You cock an eyebrow at Yoongi, teasing, “So is it true? Do you like me then?”
“I adore you.”
Your face heats up more. “You didn’t tell me what you like playing the most.”
“I would say I enjoy…”
“Or wait. Don’t tell me. What if you played it?”
“Now hold on—”
Energised, you take a stand, throwing a look at the receptionist who locks eyes with you at just the right moment. You point to the guitar, and he lifts his hand to gesture, “Go ahead, please.”
You take the guitar off its hook, grazing over the smooth, wooden surface and skimming the strings for a tiny moment. Relishing the familiar feeling. And then, encouragingly, you hand it to the man of the hour, telling him, “I know you want to.”
Yoongi is uncaring and unapologetically him, but he’s just as shy when met with attention. Yet, you know him enough to understand he often does whatever somebody asks of him, so you’re barely surprised when he flashes a thin-lipped smile and agrees, “Yeah. Alright.”
He situates the guitar on his lap carefully, treating it like a newborn as he mutters at the same time, “What should I play? Maybe this?”
His fingers strum a few chords that you don’t recognise, tough ceasing when he starts working on tuning the guitar. It takes a moment; a time you spend in silence, watching Taehyung for a second as he props up his head, eyelids half closed.
You shrug your shoulders, telling Yoongi, “Whatever crosses your mind first.”
He doesn’t answer, handling the instrument. He’s focused, his lips slightly apart, his expression impossibly composed. He murmurs another, “This should do,” and when he plays just the first three chords, you already know what he’s chosen.
Sounds like an acoustic version of the song. Like it could be played at a wedding, plucking the strings in the background as the bride marches to her groom, fitting the theme of the song.
“Which one’s this?” Eun asks, leaning into Taehyung who’s barely alive at this point. The music probably doesn’t help.
But apart from him, most of the heads turn, even if just very few present. There’s a quiet couple near Jimin and Jungkook’s table, smiling at the pleasant intrusion. The receptionist puts his lower arms onto the counter, listening in.
And then, eyes still fixated on the fingers skillfully mastering each note, you clarify, “Dance Me to the End of Love. Leonard Cohen originally, but this seems like a very… calm version of it.”
Yoongi nods a little, never stopping the music, but adds, “The Civil Wars. Covered it.”
“Right.”
The ambiance changes immediately. You wish you could lower the lights, embrace all that you hear, save it in your eardrums like a memory stick could. From afar, you notice luminous eyes directed at you, blinking slowly, hands still working, but giving you some momentary attention.
Is Jungkook thinking the same as you? If he stood now, gently pulling you into the middle of the room, would you care who watches as you dance? Could this be the magical moment that soon awaits you in a very near future? Swaying at the wedding…
You break the longing gaze when Jimin nudges Jungkook’s elbow, chin nodding towards your group as if the latter isn’t already watching. It seems they have advanced, nearly done with their endeavours. Not too long until they can join you again.
Another minute passes until Yoongi proceeds to the bridge and the peak of the song, and then another until he’s reached the end. Calm, soft thrums. Fading slowly, snapping you out of something you didn’t know just yet.
Heavy affection crowds your chest, lifting all sorrows off your heart. You’re filled with fondness. Empty of pain. Weighing everything and nothing.
Yoongi looks up at you with another awkward smile, still humble, his lips a straight line. The few people in the room applaud quietly, and as he puts the guitar down, you ask, “And how did that feel?”
“Surprisingly…” Yoongi angles his head, and then changes the movement into a nod. “Comforting.”
“Isn’t that special? Feeling something through the very music you put your soul into?”
It’s how you feel when you write. Probably how Jungkook feels when he draws. To possess something, be it creative or not, that floods you with joy like this is priceless. You think back to when you wrote your first poem. Or when you crafted your very first short story.
The memories are blurred, but you remember the feeling. Putting the dot at the end of the very last sentence. And then, you remember more than just this.
Remember when your father taught you how to play the piano, too, and remember when he—
“You play?” Yoongi suddenly asks, and you look up in surprise.
Oh. What? Your eyes widen, eyebrows lifting, mouth wanting to ask what he said, even though you know exactly which question he posed. But you soon break into a satisfied grin.
“How do you know?” you wonder.
“You talk like you do.”
“I didn’t want to give any spoilers,” Eun confesses from the side, comfortably closing into Taehyung, “so I didn’t say anything. But I’ve heard her play.”
“Ah,” you voice, “not often. Was I any good?”
“As much as I remember.”
Your eyes wander back to Yoongi, the man already working on handing you the guitar over the table between the two of you. You puff out a breath, nearly declining, but then recall that he did this for you, too.
So you grab it for the moment, explaining, “I… I play a little. Dad taught me the guitar and a bit of the piano when I was younger.” You mimic Yoongi’s gestures from before, making yourself comfortable with the bottom of the guitar on top of one leg. “Always enjoyed the guitar more, though. Felt productive, feeling the cornea on my fingertips.”
“Damn…” Taehyung makes, and you smile at him, nodding as if to say, “You’re alive, too!”
“Then you should definitely play something,” Eun says.
“You’re all okay with that?”
“Please,” Yoongi confirms, gesturing for you to start, “you don’t need our permission at all.”
So you nod. Getting used to the steely feeling, preparing mentally as you don’t need to tune the guitar anymore. You start the song in mind, an equally important oldie as Yoongi’s piece; and then you go another brave step further as you start humming.
You wish Taehyung, Jungkook or Jimin could do that for you. They’re better singers. You’re alright, certainly not a pro, singing your words rather quietly when you do start. But it provides you with deep relaxation, and you inwardly hope your voice does the same for the others.
“Wise men say, only fools rush in…”
You don’t know why you chose this song. You don’t know why you didn’t settle with your usual choice. Something about the moment and the starry night urged you to pick out this very melody, holding onto the charm and spark tingling in the air.
Yoongi, an introvert among so many extroverts in your circle, is the one who chimes in soon, singing the chorus and then moving to the third verse. You entrust him with the latter, giving you time to open your eyes that you didn’t realise were shut.
You see the two boys at the end of the room finally emerge, slowly treading towards you with full plates. They plump onto the free seats right under the wall where the guitar previously hung, placing the gimbap in the middle of the table.
Taehyung helps himself to one portion, Eun soon following, but Jungkook…
Jungkook seems to have forgotten about it. He walked to you from one spot to where you sit, but as he looks at you now, you wonder how he moved at all. So mesmerised, like a flawless statue, bambi eyes filled with a tenderness you thought only exists on TV.
If you could guess, you’d say he’s looking at you like… like he’d die for you.
Love. Yearning. Affection uncurbed.
He cradles his cheek, putting his elbow on the arm of the couch, lost as if he’s dreaming. He could fully throw you out of balance just now. If you hadn’t played this song with your father a dozen times, committing each movement to memory, you probably would’ve long failed.
You shut your eyes for a moment enough to catch yourself, hearing Yoongi finish another chorus when you suddenly hear another switch in voices. Jungkook, singing the outro, so effortlessly and tenderly; the tone so angelic without even trying.
You could fall asleep. You could fall deeper.
You never knew you could.
Jungkook is the living proof that, despite not being the biggest sap to walk the Earth, you’ve grown fond of his little gestures. You didn’t think you could feel so shy over the way he kisses the air in your direction, expression so hazy.
A couple months ago, you would’ve never expected not to roll your eyes over his little, gentle antics.
But you’re not. Instead, you’re trying not to let show how much he affects you, nodding towards the applause before you ask, “So I take it, it was good?”
“Good?!” Eun blurts in disbelief, leaving it at that with a shake of her head.
“You keep surprising me, angel,” Jungkook admits, “I don’t know what to do with this anymore.”
“With what?”
He’s close enough for his mouth to kiss your cheek, an eyebrow lifting in tease as he puts a hand on his heart. This time, you do roll your eyes, albeit still going in when he gives your lips the tiniest peck.
Your heart is still in the process of accelerating when he asks, “You chose the right song, didn’t you?”
Yeah. A little dose of Elvis’s Can’t Help Falling in Love fits the situation quite well, doesn’t it?
You merely answer with a flattered smile, nearly going in for another, longer kiss; another touch in your own little bubble, suspending time and the world. But your manners demand differently, so you resist, leaning back.
Only taking his hand until the group comes alive a little more, feasting on the midnight snack that the men handled pretty well. The group changes up with time, seats abandoned and taken, switched with another, the guitar cautiously passed on to Yoongi again.
And then they sing some more. You listen, head on Jungkook’s shoulder, dozing in and out of sleep, in and out of his embrace.
Taehyung is soon encouraged to sing a couple, gorgeous snippets of Fly Me to the Moon, a signature song for him and his baritone voice, as Yoongi and Jungkook assure you. You don’t know when this became a session of nostalgic karaoke, remembering a time you never experienced.
It’s how you pictured these nights to end. Nearly falling into a slumber before the day concludes.
Surrounded by a warmth incomparable to a bonfire; one you’ve been yearning for your entire life.
Tumblr media
The end of the night begins with an argument.
Yoongi and Jimin are busy preparing themselves for bed, surprisingly cool-headed after the tumult this morning. They don’t struggle with choosing their comfort in the room, while you pull at Jungkook’s leg as it dangles off the upper bed.
“I’m going to come up,” you warn, trying to tickle the bottom of his foot before he crosses his legs, smirking down at you. “And I will be so annoying.”
“Is that news?” he wonders, and you open your mouth wide in surprise, hearing a chuckle from the couple behind you.
“Babe. I called shots on the upper bunk.”
“You did not.”
“It’s a lot more fun up there. And I thought you’d like sleeping down there.”
Jungkook’s eyebrows kiss, his expression questioning as he asks, “What made you think that?”
Well, now that you think of it, your presumptions were flawed. You assumed he wasn’t too picky, always a deep and peaceful sleeper at home. Defeated, you shrug your shoulders, telling him, “You had a mattress on the floor when you moved into the apartment.”
“That’s… an impeccable argument. I can’t even respond to it.”
The sarcasm drips out of his voice like a damaged tap, and once he shifts to the wall, pressing his back against it, you understand your half childlike, half playful pleading won’t work. So you only tilt your head, squinting his eyes at him, and then drop onto the bed below him.
“Don’t you fart, though,” you tell him, registering a goofy laugh with a fond smile. It’s okay. Maybe tomorrow. Either way, it’s worse than not having him beside you at all.
Yoongi switches off the light, ready to sleep as he falls into his bed with a groan. It was a long day and you walked miles, so you understand his fatigue. You expect for them to snore within a moment, but to your astonishment, Jimin starts a conversation not a minute later.
“We were lucky with the weather. I bet it’s raining back at home.”
Oh… have you finally grown into the type of adults who smalltalk about the sun and the clouds? The precipitation and humidity?
Jungkook answers, “Closer to the equator. The weather is best over here in the fall.”
Then, Yoongi, “Hopefully it’s as nice at the beach, too.”
“It better be,” Jimin chimes in, “I’ve been looking forward to our game for ages. I’ll play in the rain if need be.”
“Oh god, can you imagine?” you add, switching to your left side, hands under your temple. You’ve been thinking about the game just as much — chaos with a big fat portion of craze. “We wouldn’t even be able to get up if it rained.”
“We’d get nowhere,” Jungkook confirms, and you imagine him nodding towards the ceiling, arms under his head.
“That’s what. Doesn’t it sound fun? Wouldn’t matter anyway… the rain would at least kill my competitive side, you know?” Jimin jests, and you already send a prayer above. Not for rain, but for bright sunshine; you cannot miss the ruthless, cut-throat battle that will emerge.
And as if you predicted it, knowing very well who strives for a win and who doesn’t, Jungkook challenges, “Your competitive side means nothing if you’re gonna lose anyway.”
“Dude. Be careful. There’ll be nothing but regret if we end up being on the same team,” Jimin says.
“True, true,” you hear Jungkook respond, just as Yoongi lets out an amused snicker, aligning with your muttered, “Now, that, I wanna see.”
The banter and chatter proceeds for another couple minutes, up to the point where Yoongi needs to shush the quartet. Your laughter ebbs down after his reprimands, morphing into content and tired sighs.
And once the conversation has more or less died, you wonder, “Do we need to sleep? We could just stay awake and talk all night.”
But your suggestion proves redundant — because barely two minutes later, your breathing evens out, calm as you finally drift away. Not a single word anymore. Jungkook rolls over his bed, casting a brief look at you, not quite seeing your face in the dark, but understanding that you’ve fallen asleep.
You can’t stay silent for this long; and you’re not moving. Jungkook clicks his tongue, fond but a tease as he jokes, “I drove all day and still she falls asleep first.”
Yoongi and Jimin’s laughs are cautiously quiet, exhausted, soon giving way to deep breaths like yours until they’ve fallen asleep, too.
Weirdly, it takes some time until Jungkook can join your land of dreams. There’s a strange yearning in his chest that he’s well used to by now; it thoroughly sucks to not have you by his side. And… is this too much?
The affection poured into and onto you, is he doing too much? Feeling too much? Why are his fingers itching and his chest not warm enough, despite the pleasant weather?
You’ve really done a number on him.
The minutes prove long, soon stretching to what he perceives as hours. Jungkook doesn’t know how much time has passed and he refuses to fish out his phone again; the light of the device will only postpone sleep, and he cannot use that for the trip tomorrow.
“Man…” Jungkook quietly complains, letting his left arm swing between the bed rails.
Sleep isn’t an entity to grace him just yet anyway; because as around an hour passes, he hears a sound from below. Sheets shifting, a light groan from you. You sigh audibly, soon going silent, and when he thinks you’re off again, he hears a couple seconds later—
“Kook?”
No, he must be insane. It must be insane how his heart stirs at your tiny, wispy voice. You wash over him like… relief.
“Baby,” he calls out in a whisper, once more moving to look at you — or the darkness below. “You’re awake?”
“Can’t sleep properly. I really hate sleeping in other beds…”
“Right? Me too.” He reaches out for you, hoping you’ll notice the movement, and when your soft fingers get ahold of two of his digits, he breathes out in gratification. “And… I miss you here.”
You hum, rubbing your thumb over his palm, mumbling, “Isn’t it ridiculous? How we can’t go a night like this.”
“Hmm…”
“I miss you, too.”
Patience is a virtue he hasn’t learned yet when it comes to you.
He could wait hours for a hall in the museum to fill. For a visitor to comment on his pieces. He could sit in a room with his father, attempting a conversation; could attempt his whole life to sway your mother’s thoughts. All possible.
But you… distanced from your touch and your lips, not feeling your breath as he does every night is…
Pretty damn shit.
“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers out of your grip. He hears you mutter a small, “Huh?” as he moves, careful to not hurt himself in the dark.
For the smallest moments, he uses the light of his display to navigate through the limited space, never daring to turn on the flashlight to not wake the entire room. And once he’s touching the ground, agile as a cat, you understand what he’s trying to do.
Quietly, but inefficiently, you protest with just half a heart when he climbs into your bed, telling you to scoot. You say, “Uhm, I… Baby, I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”
But you don’t seem to have much of a say in this matter — because you’re soon outnumbered by Jungkook and his obsession with you, shifting on the bed until you’re nearly pressed against the wall.
He wraps an arm around your waist before the tight space can suffocate you, soon leaning back a little — close to rolling off the mattress? — and pulling you close. The embrace catches your breath more than the cramped area, but it stops your complaints, too.
Winding a little more, you soon find yourself breathing against his chest, a heartbeat right underneath. Your arm reflexively sneaks around him, hugging him close before he laughs and teases, “You were saying?”
“I… I was saying you feel so warm.”
“Mmmh,” he hums, towing you in impossibly close, planting a kiss on your head before resting his cheek against it, “you are, too.”
“Do I feel better than your bed up there?”
“A lot better.” His palm flattens over your back; the scent of his shampoo, his fabric softener and him dizzies you. “Makes me feel a bit less sorry about keeping you awake.”
“Don’t worry,” you sigh into his soft cotton shirt, feeling the lines of his pecs against your lips, “Am exhausted. I’ll fall asleep fast. Especially like this…”
“Oh… glad to be of service then.”
You nod, rubbing his shirt between your fingertips as he moves his hand up and down your lower back, just a little. He yawns against your hair; you know the telltale signs of a drifting mind.
The two of you have gotten used to this. It’s said that pressing something comforting against your chest, such as a pillow or stuffed toy, works wonders on an insomniac mind. You guess that’s what you are for each other.
Even when you’re not home. Even when the space barely suffices for one body.
Which, as you brood over his sudden presence next to you, reminds you—
“You wanted the upper bunk bed,” you tell him. Nothing more; he understands without you needing to elaborate.
He chuckles as quietly as possible to not wake your friends, his hand slipping under your shirt and feather lightly pinching your sides. Not enough to hurt, but enough to tickle you. You nearly yelp, muffling it against his clothes in time.
“Shut up,” he says, thumb running over where he nipped you. “Okay. Do you know why I wanted you to sleep down here?”
You smile. You’re not stupid. As your vision became blurry, your mind shutting just a while ago, the realisation dawned upon you as the seemingly last thought of the night.
“I think I do…” you admit. “I think I figured it out.”
Because.
Because you’ve fallen out of bed one too many times. Because of some days, when you weren’t nestled in his arms as you are now, not caged in solidly, overworked and stressed. Or when you let go of each other in the middle of the night.
And that’s when you rattled down the bed. Just once or twice!
You never got injured or anything, getting away with perhaps a tiny bruise. What was worse was the fond laughter you tolerated when you told him about it, or when he was there and realised. Worried sick, inspecting your body, but still shaking his head in amusement.
Chuckling as he pushed back your hair, but relieved when he found nothing out of the ordinary.
“I’m not gonna risk your clumsy ass to fall off a bunk bed,” he says.
“There’s a raili—”
“Still. One never knows with you. In any case… you’re not getting hurt on vacation, okay?”
You could coo right here, right now. Whisper his name a million times in disbelief and absolute gratitude, melt into him, dampen his shirt. Jungkook is a thoughtful being, alright, but it’s insane that with you, he thinks half a dozen steps ahead.
Mind empty of a response as worthy as his, you settle on a joke, “Is that right? We’ll see about that once we play the game.”
You finish your sentence dramatically, and he answers with a breathy, “Yeah, yeah,” as he kisses your temple. Careful to keep his back off the ladder leading up to his bed, you keep him in your hug, soon detecting in a whisper, “I really mean so much to you.”
“Mhm… So very much.”
It’s too dark to see his expressions clearly; you see him move, see the white of his eyes a little. But even without it, you know he’s blended out the world when you look up at him. You know he’s staring back quietly.
You know what he’s feeling as the tip of his nose touches yours, the bangs of his growing hair grazing your forehead. And when the finger under your shirt draws circles on your skin, touching you so gently, you feel your heart in your throat, hear it in your ears.
Pumping, pumping hard when you see the silhouette’s mouth part before it arrives at yours. Kisses you tenderly. Doesn’t rush or force his tongue in, just lazily moving. 
He cradles your face a moment later, raising your head some more, tilting it as much as possible. The kiss is more like a sequence of innocent pecks, but maybe that’s why the moment feels so intimate.
Because there’s no impatience. No other sentiment but adoration.
As he moves back again, he doesn’t talk right away. Takes a deep breath. Then—
He brushes your tresses aside, away from your temple as his thumb rubs against it gently. His lips hover close to yours, and much like the ever-blooming tiger lily on his golden skin conveys, he whispers, “Love me?”
Your heart.
This treacherous thing — cries and flutters, punctured and whole at once. You’re constantly breathless and speechless, so you wonder how he manages to say, “Please love me, too.”
Doesn’t he know how easy that is? Doesn’t he know who he truly is, what his stardust of a soul is made of? That he was born to be loved. That he’s not responsible for those who do not, rather a ray of serene moonlight who doesn’t need to show anyone that he’s just that.
“No need to beg,” you tell him, “you’ll never need to beg.”
Another beat of silence. He’s smiling, you know. Keeping his heart at bay as much as you are guarding yours. Does he think the same way about you as you do about him?
Of course. Probably. In some sense, you were in the same sinking boat, surrounded by an overwhelming, troubled ocean of doubt; waves of self-hatred drowning you. You know exactly what it’s like to get used to being unloved by everyone; and then to learn to be loved again.
You clear your throat, feeling his body relax; your head returns to his chest, and you say, “You know. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but we could make it work. It’s not that tight—”
“In theory. But we wouldn’t sleep well, right?” he ponders.
Wrong. You soon prove him wrong, unpredictable as you are half of the time when you’re not being familiar to him like the back of his hand.
Because your words soon become slurred, silent not much after, your breathing calm and warm against his chest. Your tiny fist still holds onto his shirt, the blanket alternatively slipping either off him or you.
So he waits until your grip around him loosens. Then, presses a light kiss to your lips, carefully moving away and out of your bed. Ignoring how you hold onto him until the last moment, scared you might awaken again; murmuring in your sleep as you tend to do.
He gently rubs your fist until you uncurl your fingers around his shirt; if he doesn’t do this, he’ll stay here all night. Instead, he furrows his eyebrows in chagrin and yearning; and when your hands move back under your head, he finally bids the first day goodbye and climbs back up.
Eventually descending into dreams of you, too.
Tumblr media
DAY 2
The air is much colder up here than you thought.
You can’t recall ever having been on a mountain before; considering your country’s geography, a very ordinary thing that you never really got to experience. Your parents were fans of beaches all over the nation and the globe; didn’t enjoy heights, but depths.
You knew that early on.
Satisfied, however, you hide your mouth in your jacket. You’re glad Eun talked you into packing a thicker jacket and gloves, giving half a dozen logical arguments like the amazing lawyer that she could be. It was fun, packing suitcases together via video calls.
But the wind still hits your ears harshly, and you curse as you get off the cable railway, “Damn it.”
Jimin rubs your arms from behind, the ecstasy clear as day as he cheers, “Come on, no pauses now! We finally made it.”
That you did. No turning back. You’ve wanted this for so long. So you follow the others, walking beside Eun. Her legs are slightly longer than yours, and her steps wider. She proceeds a little faster, so you soon hook your arm with hers, urging yourself to catch up.
You’re relieved when you reach a small platform overlooking not much but the mountain lift and all the stops till the ground. Down below, you recognise the entrance you bought your tickets at. 
Sometimes, along the descent of the mountain, you spot people hiking. They don’t take the lift; they trek up and down, with these cool hiking sticks of theirs.
Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t come with you. Or rather, they’ll arrive a bit after you. Namjoon rang up Jungkook just before you got ready to leave, asking for his apprentice’s time. Something about the gallery and the exhibit.
Yet, extremely sorry, Namjoon told him he could call back later, but Jungkook insisted on listening to what his mentor had to say, presuming it was urgent enough for an interruption in his vacation. And Taehyung stayed with him — partly to not leave him alone, and partly because he’s always dreamed of making an acquaintance with an art connoisseur like Namjoon.
Taehyung apparently has a big thing for art. The only reason Jungkook let him stay at all.
Because when you suggested the same, he rejected your idea without flinching once, prompting you to enjoy these valuable days instead of hanging around at the quiet hostel with him. It took some persuasion and a tender, “Angel, as much as I want you here, I won’t be able to talk to you anyway. I’ll be there in no time.”
So here you are now, content when cold but pleasant air caresses your face. You take in the high trees and the picturesque mountain range; somewhere in the far back, at the horizon, there’s another higher, snow-capped mountain.
And you look for a while, arms wrapped around your knees. Eun remains in a similar position, enjoying the moment; Yoongi and Jimin decide to bask in their joy by capturing the experience in snapped pictures.
Ten minutes later, your group decides to walk on, tramping up a short distance to a bridge Yoongi mentioned earlier. And you guess that’s where your serenity ends.
Because the bridge isn’t as short as you thought. Moves a little, mostly solid, but… holy shit, were you this high up all the time? They say don’t look down in moments like these, but you can’t help, and God, there’s an immeasurable distance between you and the ground and—
It’s not immeasurable. No, you’re an idiot. But you still can’t help it; stare down, gulp.
You reach to the railing with a careful hand. Why do they… how do they…
The others are doing it so easily. The other tourists. And Jimin; moving over it effortlessly, swaying a bit, but airing a sweet laugh. And then even Eun and Yoongi, initially struggling, make their way over, slower than Jimin but courageous nevertheless.
Okay… okay.
You push your phone extra deep into your bag, blinking before you take a deep breathe, repeating a mantra three or four times before you—
Scream.
The surprise of a new voice directly behind you is unwelcome, absolute horror in a moment like this. You flinch hard, reacting, barely hearing the “See?” over the wind before you slap the sudden hands off your shoulders. Your knees are shaking and you’re uncertain who the fingers belong to, but you’re still ready to fight.
The voice isn’t; the startled gasp reveals as much.
You turn, only to find your boyfriend’s eyes ripped open, lips parted. He puffs out a breath, equally frightened at your reaction before his expression turns apologetic. Baffled. Both at once as he exclaims, “Sorry! Sorry, baby.”
“Kook! Timing,” you blurt, scowling in distress, yet immediately holding onto his waist once you’ve grasped the reality enough.
“Angel…” he starts, looking into the hell below. “Are you scared of heights?”
No time to be sarcastic; you don’t have the breath to. So you admit, “A little.”
“I didn’t know,” he breathes, another apology in his words. He kisses your hair to soothe your worries; in some way, it works, even if not enough right now. “I’m sorry. Do you want to go or just stay here? We can stay here.”
His gaze is worried now, and he nods to reassure you, holding onto you. Behind him, Taehyung emerges, comprehending the situation and studying your countenances within the next three seconds until he asks, “All good?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook promises, “you can go ahead if you want.”
“Mmmh,” Taehyung hums; doesn’t sound too sure about leaving the two of you here. “You need a hand? I can go ahead, Jungkook follows.”
Uhh…
“Is that a good idea?” you mumble.
“It could be.”
Could be? And if it isn’t?
Then again. You’re here for a reason. You’d be disappointed with yourself if you just stood here, ruining the chance not only for yourself, but Jungkook, too. You look at him, and he shrugs his shoulders, signalling that it’s up to you.
So you decide, “No, I’ll go. I came here for this, and I don’t know when the next opportunity will arise. Fears exist to be conquered!”
“Hear, hear!” Taehyung cheers, just as Jungkook praises, “See? That’s my girl!”
It helps you, their way to motivate. Cautiously, you place a hand in each of their palms, moving one step after another. They’re determined to take care of you, constantly checking if you’re okay. And it works at first. But.
The bridge seems endless, and the fright yearns to return to you bit by bit. Halfway through, your surroundings look scary enough to put you off balance; you hate that you’re not holding onto anything solid, basically standing freely.
If one falls, all of you do — which, in truth, is sheer impossible. The railing is high enough. But your brain isn’t quite computing properly right now. You let go of Taehyung’s hand, grabbing the railing, but still clutching Jungkook’s grip.
“Go ahead,” your shaky voice commands; and Taehyung nods this time, no other choice left. “It’s okay.”
“I’m right here if you need me,” he vows before walking on.
Jungkook puts an arm around your waist, a human safety rope. His voice is so insanely steady as he spurs you on, “Imagine it’s the amusement park, yeah? Wanna guess the remaining steps? I think it’s… uh… thirty more till the end.”
You exhale, then inhale. Look in front of you instead of down, blinking rapidly before you let out a trembling laugh and counter, “Are you kidding… Looks like a hundred.”
He chuckles with you as you suck in another breath, straightening your back, fixing your gaze on a big rock on the other side. Thinking about how such a vast number of people take these steps every day offers you some courage. Leaves you brave.
So this must be safe, right? Logically seen. You gulp, and then, with your full chest, estimate, “Forty-five! I say forty-five steps.”
And then, you count together. You’re amused when Jungkook curses as you reach twenty without the end anyhow approaching. And just when you take your thirtieth step, he shakes his head in defeat, telling you, “Should know better than to compete with a munchkin.”
You guffaw awkwardly, howling over the wind, “This is actually fun,” not noticing that he’s barely holding you anymore when you jump over to the mainland again.
“What a journey, huh?” Jungkook praises, patting your back. “I’m proud of you. It’ll only get easier from here.”
And it does. As you move on, you soon reach another platform, spiral stairs leading up to the top. It looks a little like the remainder of an old stone tower, half broken, not too high. The stairs were clearly broken; lighter, fresher patches indicate that they were evened out.
Okay, you can do this much, at least.
In fact, you’re the first to climb up, Jungkook treading on your heels, fingers still entwined with yours. And up there, your mouth drops — the view stuns you, frozen in place. The wind blows more fiercely here, but the moment is worth the strong, cold pull of the gust.
Jimin, having reached much before you, must have seen you, because you hear him say, “I know, right?”
Everyone is scattered up here, leaning against the stone wall protecting you from falling. Other tourists are eternalising the moments in pictures, through talking and kissing. Tae and Eun are pointing into the distance, Jimin and Yoongi going around, laughing.
Holy shit. The euphoria filling each one of you is inevitable. Poignant somehow.
You’re above the foggy clouds.
In the far-flung distance, you see the turquoise ocean, merely a day away from wading through its waves; levitating on the sparkling water; thinking back to now and how numerous the miles between are.
And the forests — they’re thick, vast. You wonder what animals inhabit them. Bears? Wolves? Birds you’ve never seen before? Deers and does that have the same eyes as him?
Even the mountain range looks like the sea from here. Is this odd to say? Like high waves, green and dark blue and white and cloudy. So many valleys and so many peaks. Some of them hidden behind the clouds like before.
The birds are flying so close to your heads. And the sun isn’t at its highest point anymore either. You see the horizon coloured in a yellow-ish, orange-ish hue, indicating the nearing sunset.
This was your goal anyway. You wanted to come here late because of these very colours, occupying yourselves with other sights in the morning and the early afternoon. Because you wanted to see what nature bestows upon you.
The mountain will soon be closed for tourists, and in less than an hour, you’ll be heading back down. But you don’t feel any hurry. Nothing matters.
“This…” you finally whisper as you catch yourself, “makes me wanna cry.”
You put your hands on the chest-high stone wall. Jungkook’s arms make themselves home around your body, pulling you in, pushing him close, telling you, “Then cry. Isn’t that what catharsis is about?”
“It’s just so pretty.”
“It is.”
“Like… is this really our world, Jungkook?” You shake your head against him, ruining your hair as his chin moves against your scalp. “The same we saw a few days ago. Those cars and the pressure and the rushing people. All the stress we endure. Or even, our cosy apartment.”
You fill your lungs with the crisp air, more thankful for it than ever. “There’s so much more.”
“There is, right? A lot more,” he confirms.
“Look at this,” you say, chin gesturing towards no particular spot ahead, “wherever there aren’t people to fuck things up, there’s peace like this.” You sniffle; whether due to the temperature or sentiments, you can’t say. “What if we became nomads?”
His laugh is as sudden as your statement, differing so vastly from the rest of the poetry you spat.
He concludes, “I think you’ll really like it back home.” You’re confused until you understand he means his hometown; to that, you nod enthusiastically. “There are so many wonders out there like this one. I want to show you the prettiest places and the prettiest things.”
“…Do you already have something in mind?”
“Of course I do,” he responds matter-of-factly, tapping his finger against your stomach. “I just won’t tell you yet.”
“Ha. I wouldn’t want you to.”
You swallow when he moves in, kissing your cheek, his breath pleasantly warm against your ear. You wait for a second, indulge in the feeling, permitting yourself to believe you’ve transcended this realm and entered another.
But as you hear everyone else’s voices again, laughing and joking and teasing, you remember you’re still very much here, on the same Earth you know. With your everyday thoughts and lives. Which reminds you…
You turn to the side to look at him, his face in immediate proximity to yours. You ask, “What did Namjoon want?”
“Oh, just needed to discuss a couple things. Exhibition.”
“Sounded super urgent, though.”
“I mean, it kinda was,” he answers, catching the strands of hair that the breeze blows into your face, tucking them back, “he needed a status update. We also spoke about the style the gallery collector likes and—”
“Wait. You’re still sticking to your own style, though, right?”
His heart thumps, violently enough to nearly drop out of his chest. When trailblazing artists, already enjoying a remarkable reputation, preach about the relevance of support, this is what they must mean.
Behind someone who does something significant for the world in any way, there’s somebody soothingly rubbing their backs in bad times. Embracing them in success. Pushing them forward, lending them bravery.
You.
You’re who they must be talking about. Unshakably by his side.
“Of course, angel,” he says, “I think having your signature style is always the most important aspect.”
“Good. You’re the coolest, Kook. Just so you know.” His smile is telling, rendering the humble click of his tongue that follows ineffective. He holds you tight, lips close to your temple as you say, “I still don’t know what you’re painting.”
“I will never show you my paintings until an exhibit rolls around. Mostly because you’re my muse. My girl.”
He must think that this doesn’t wreck you inside out. Puts you back together, pieces of puzzles reunited that you didn’t know were lost. You feel something new all the time; is this possible? Surely, there can’t be this many emotions anyway, right?
If you didn’t feel it with your own heart, you wouldn’t believe it…
“But…” you begin, “you’ll let me see those that I don’t inspire, right?”
“Of course. Always.”
Breathing comes easy to you up here. So you do it again. And again. Taking in the oxygen, so entirely different from the one in the city; and soon, you mutter, more to yourself than to anyone else, “This really is pretty.”
He doesn’t answer. There’s no answer to this. Whatever his mind is conjuring and his heart trying to convey doesn’t just have to do with the nature stretching in front of you. Of course it’s gorgeous. Of course, your world’s unique.
Of course, it’s home, and home feels warm, pleasant, familiar.
There’s no doubt that the sight and the moment evoke something rare in him. But he’s seen these things before; when he was younger, he was used to this. What he’s never been used to is people like you.
Those who match nature's fierce, distinctive personality. Those who grow carefully and selflessly; like the trees offering shelter to birds. Or the bees serving as pollinators to provide nourishment for so many creatures out there.
Jungkook doesn’t answer right away because the right response doesn’t come to him immediately. But when he does, he collects his breath, and then voices—
“I love you, angel.”
Your heart skips one or two or three beats. You look at him again.
“People climb mountains, watch the world from above, need to see forests to figure out how good life can be. And that it can be worth living,” he says, his voice velvety soft. “But I feel that way with you every day, you know? I do… I do love you so much.”
You want to say something. You want to pour your heart out. Keep staring at his gentle eyes, serving all confessions at once. But interruptions are expected; so you’re briefly displeased but not surprised when you’re pulled out of your daydream.
Taehyung is gathering the crew behind you, asking for a group picture. You’re soon caught in a short, harmless commotion until everyone has collected at a spot, and you stand in position, yet not before gracing Jungkook one more look.
Mouthing something.
And he sees. In this split moment, he sees and smiles.
If he could be honest… whatever, those mountains. Whatever, them and the adrenaline that comes with them. All the natural phenomena. You’re enough, too — a force of nature, too.
He doesn’t need any mountain peaks when you bring a new high every day.
Tumblr media
The lift is crowded as you make your way down again. They stuffed it to the brim, much until a stranger urged staff to stop pushing people in. You’re moved to one end of the cabin while you watch Eun and Jungkook forced into the opposite corner.
Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung will step into the next, and you’ll wait at the exit.
Since it takes barely five minutes to reach the bottom, you don’t fight for a spot next to Jungkook and Eun. Instead, you look down into the depths, waiting until the vehicle finally finishes its dive.
The chatter in the booth is peaceful, but plenty enough for you to blend out any words the other two utter to each other. In that sense, you don’t hear it when Eun says, “You’re both glued to each other, huh?”
Jungkook’s wide, wondering eyes ogle into hers, surprised as he asks, “Is that… bad? Too much?”
“Well, definitely much,” Eun laughs, “but very sweet, too. By all means, don’t change.”
“Ah. Ahhh, that answers one of my questions at least.”
Eun looks at him in curiosity, though entertained and maybe even a little baffled that she’s ever been the object of his attention in any way. So she voices, “Oh? Which one’s that?”
“Just confirms that I have your blessings.”
Eun catches his admission as a popular line from a million movies before, immediately puffing out a laugh. She didn’t anticipate this, out of all things; blinking, somewhat flattered even.
“My blessings?” she repeats. Her smile, combined with the appearing crease between her eyebrows, dips her expression in something that reveals, “Are you joking?”
Which is presumably why Jungkook’s thought shrinks the very next moment, pupils shaking just a little as he mutters, “Well… yeah?”
“Okay. And what if I didn’t give them to you?”
She raises her chin as if in arrogance, but the immediate giggle reveals the playful joke. She shakes her head again, patting his bicep, smitten when his speechless self voices, “Uhm…”
“I’m just messing with you,” she clarifies, watching one corner of his lips rise. “But also, why is it needed, you know? Would you leave her if I didn’t bless you two? Or stop loving her?”
Jungkook’s surprised about the L-drop; of all people, Eun must have known from the very beginning that he loved you. There’s no bewilderment in her voice; she emits the word casually.
He blinks, albeit discarding all preceding hesitation immediately as he admits, “No.”
“Exactly,” Eun agrees, wiggling a finger with a wise, subtle nod on the side, “you don’t need my blessings. If you’re sure about her, you don’t need anyone’s. I’ll trust the process.”
That’s it.
No ominous warnings, no playful best-friend-threats. She trusts in his certainty as much as he does; and where would the two of you be, what would all of this be if he didn’t? No. Not a trace of doubt.
Not if every smile matching yours expresses a silent I adore you. Or if every exhale against your shoulder reveals a promising I want you.
Not if everything he’s still about to do breathes a whisper of a soft I’ve been thinking of you all this time.
“But,” Eun continues; Jungkook’s ears perk up, “if you need to know. I do adore you two together. I know I tease you and stuff, but I’ve never seen a cuter couple.”
“Ah. Even cuter than you and Tae?”
“Much. We’re not the sappy kind. Or well, he is, but… you’re straight up sugar. Makes me sick.”
Jungkook laughs, spying over his shoulder, seeing a glimpse of you as you look out of the window in wonder. “Well, she makes up most of that sweetness.”
“Maybe. God,” Eun exclaims as if agitated, and when he looks at her again, her teeth are gritted, eyes squinting hard before she opens them again. Adding, “Sometimes I wanna grab her face and squish her.”
“The most precious, right?”
“Isn’t she?”
Somebody to kill for. Somebody with a face that doesn’t fit tears. The world did you wrong, but you exist to be happy. You’re deserving of it; you could be the most enthusiastic soul if the universe allowed you.
No, fuck it. Fuck the universe.
He’s here, right? He can do it, too. Guard you from harm; keep your smile plastered there.
And as if reading his mind, Eun continues, “I’ve always hated seeing her sad. She deserves the world, and shit always hit the fan when she was so close to finding the joy I always wanted her to have. Does this sound dumb?”
No, it doesn’t. In fact, Eun’s very truth pricks his heart like a fine needle. Because in a sense, he was also once a reason for stripping you off that happiness; but he’s made up for it. He so deeply hopes he made up for it.
“It sounds just right,” he says.
“I don’t know if you already know, but you won’t meet anyone purer. Not saying this as her best friend… it’s true.” She shrugs a shoulder, as if to dismiss the corny statements; she truly isn’t a mawkish one. “So it’s a big deal to say I want you close to her.”
Her eyes shift away from him and straight to you; there’s a gap between all the people, allowing a glance at you. And when Jungkook follows Eun’s gaze, you seem to feel it somehow, his eyes like Cupid’s arrows in your back until you meet their attention.
Your lips promptly form the most saccharine smile, an unsure hand lifting; somebody next to you immerses themselves in the brief interaction, looking to and fro between Jungkook and you.
And Jungkook waves back, watching your chest rise and fall in satisfaction rooted in nothing but the untroubled moment. Right there, you hold not one but two hearts hidden. His bleeding organ thumps, but it’s as if he hears it from where you stand.
Slowly, stare dropping to his feet, he nods, love clumping up his throat, a barrier for the words wanting to escape. Instead, he basks in the things Eun said, repeating them over and over in his head until he merely susurrates—
“Thank you, Eun.”
Tumblr media
“Here you are.”
Jungkook is soft-spoken, his voice mellow; a textbook definition of a lullaby. Which is possibly why you’re so surprised when it breaks the fall air so loudly, echoing through the empty space.
You flinch before you reflexively turn, watching his body tower on the other side. The lights of the swimming pool illuminate his face, and even from here, you recognise the bright, gorgeous, twinkling eyes immediately. They’re not hidden behind his bangs this time; his damp hair is pushed back.
Maybe you could focus on that unusual sight of his forehead if there wasn’t the entire rest of him. Hands in the pockets of the open bathrobe he’s sporting, mere boxers hiding his most important parts, but the rest of him naked. Tits out, abs sharp.
You flash him a smile from where you’re floating, pushing yourself off the edge and swimming towards him. You see his reflection in the water, blurry, moving, somewhat funny. As you near him, he drops to his knees, crouching for a second before dipping his legs into the pool. Sitting down, remaining there, waiting for you.
Getting ahold of his calf, you pull yourself in for the last few feet. He reaches out without hesitation as your shoulders collide with his legs underwater; gentle fingers tuck your soaked hair behind your ears.
“I was looking for you,” he says.
“Oh, I just got here a couple minutes ago. Making the best out of the remaining time.”
“Yeah. I just showered for a few minutes, too.” He pauses. Looks around the vacant pool save from the two of you, humming before he asks, “Hey, do you need a moment to yourself?”
Your eyes widen as you look up, his expression suddenly cautious, as if he’s intruding your personal space. Curiously, you merely voice, “What?”
“Just. I know there’s been a lot of interaction these days, so I get it if you need a break.” His finger moves to his temple, drawing circles in the air. “My battery almost ran out, too.”
Oh. Oh…
If there was a way to hide your flattered smile, you still wouldn’t. God, if he knew how rare of a person he is. How uniquely humane. If he knew that not everybody’s ready to offer space despite knowing that somebody requires it at times.
You know enough people who put the blame on themselves; deem themselves victims. If you can’t be there for them, it’s something they have done wrong. Not the fact that you need peace, a moment to yourself.
Jungkook knows. Jungkook understands.
Has seen you run out of energy and crave a quiet evening. But you immediately shake your head, touched, “Oh, no. I actually knew you’d find me here. Hoped for it.”
“Is that right?” he says, relieved, grazing your cheek as you put your chin onto his leg. Muscly, thick thighs, yet like a pillow.
You nod. Look up to him properly, a little distracted, very mesmerised. It’s outrageously insane, how he’s perched there like he’s allowed to. As if it doesn’t clearly state in your book that it’s illegal to look this way, that it should be retaliated somehow.
“It’s been a while since we were alone,” you tell him, “feels like we didn’t have many moments to ourselves.”
“Then, this is convenient, isn’t it? An empty pool in the evening. Very cliché.”
You laugh a little, tilting your head and ignoring the goosebumps that arise when he touches the sweet spot behind your ear. Hands exploring. You respond, “Others are probably too tired to be here. Or too cold. We’re the only crazy ones here.”
“It’s warm enough, though,” he argues, sniffling, as if to contradict his point — there’s something funny about it. “I bet it’s wet and grey back home.” A click of his tongue, watching you nod in agreement; after a beat of silence, he wonders, “Are you looking forward to tomorrow?”
Exhilaration inundates your chest without a warning, as is common with this very conversation topic. You can barely fathom that you talked about this for weeks straight, and now you have only a few hours left until the awaited day finally breaks in.
Jungkook must be seeing the change in your pupils, because he smiles when you do, nodding with an open mouth as you cheer jubilantly, “A lot! It’ll be a long day, we’ll be exhausted, but… got a feeling it’ll be worth it all.”
“Yeah, but like. I think we can rest a lot after that, though,” he explains, flashing a wink to your astonishment. “My childhood bedroom is cosy.”
“I’d hope so. We won’t be leaving it.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest before he agrees, “Of course not. Duh. Except for the wedding.”
“Except for the wedding… sure,” you repeat, as if reluctantly.
As you put both your arms on top of his thighs, Jungkook uses the moment to let his stare dawdle; right there where yours lingered two minutes ago. His head moves slowly, taking in the wide, endless view behind you.
The sky above and the stars attached to it. The tiny mountains far away and the forests next to them. The world looks as wide as it truly is, stunningly bedazzling; infinite from where he sits here with your touch so close.
There’s a sense of disbelief in the fact that, despite the crazy vastness of the world, it’s you who found your way to him, inches away. If luck exists, this must be it, right?
But he doesn’t say any of it — don’t you already know? What if he lovebombs too much, frightens you away. So instead, his fingers shift to your face, much cooler to the touch than before, and he queries, “Aren’t you cold?”
You shake your head, however, stating, “Not yet. Or… maybe a little. You can help me warm up?”
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow in disbelief; something about the way he looks down at you with such power lets something in you loose that floods your entire body. You wouldn’t mind if he…
“Isn’t this another cliché?” he asks.
“How so?”
“You’ll make me jump in, huh? Or no, wait. You’re a brat,” he establishes as if remembering just now, rethinking his choice of words. “No… you’ll pull me in.”
“What? I won’t.”
“How do I know that, though?”
“I mean, technically, you don’t, and yes, I realise that doesn’t help,” you blabber, tone shifting when he shakes his head with a laugh, “but, you did just shower. I wouldn’t want you to waste more time showering afterwards.”
He looks sceptical to no end; squinting his eyes, biting his lower lip, furrowing his eyebrows — the whole package. Leaning in, he lets you know, “I don’t trust you this once, but…”
And that’s where his sentence ends. The words unspoken are replaced by another movement closing the gap between the two of you. He grabs your chin, moving your head up, bending his back enough to draw closer to your lips.
The phantom touch and his warm breath cause a strange, crackling sound somewhere in your brain — a bulb going out, your mind breaking. Shutting down. But your body lights up as he cradles your face, every single inch of your skin craving his all.
The knowledge about his affection and that he yearns for you like no other man on Earth blurs your reality, as if you don’t belong into a utopian world like this. As if you’re from another corner of the multiverse, incredibly lucky by accident.
Weird, weird how all of these thoughts trigger disbelief and thorough rapture in you, but how empty-headed you are at the same. Almost enough to fully lose yourself until—
The man leans back, intentionally teasing you, just a little but enough for you to fall out of your immersion. You chase his lips for a second, long enough to make him laugh. But as you find your composure, looking at the shit-eating grin, you land a decision.
“Unfair,” you say, pouting, predicting for him to coo, which occurs just a moment later.
You remain at your spot, not a lot of options either way as he still holds your face. Then wait. See him get a hold of himself before he mutters, “My pretty angel. Pouty little sweetheart of mine, hm?” twice, then thrice and then closes in again.
Thumbs skim the apples of your cheek, nose rubbing against yours, his own scrunched. He looks so happy with himself, but so charmed by you, too, squishing your face as if handling cuteness-aggression.
Calls you plenty of pet names as he kisses your nose, your cheek, your earlobe and then moves in for an actual kiss.
Only this time, no matter how much you yearn for his lips, rosy and wet and sweet and tender — you can’t let him beat you. So you prepare for the retaliation you considered before, and just as new goosebumps arise on your arms, wanting the kiss, you suppress the desire and—
“Fu—”
The curse falls out of him suddenly, just a second after he closes his eyes and you use the moment of weakness to put your hands at the back of his neck. Pulling him in without a warning, watching him lose balance and splash into the pool.
He struggles a little underwater before he breaks the surface; hands reach for you with an intent to revenge, but you dodge him. He gasps, shaking his head, going through the trouble of wiping the water off his eyes before opening them.
You swim away a little, carefully, just to be sure; watching him cough a bit before he laughs. He can’t help but scoff, more curses falling out of him, but never towards you. Only a reprimanding, “Angel, you’re— you brat." Another cough. "You’re too much.”
And as his eyes finally land on you, he immediately charges for you, jaw clenched, teeth gritted, but pure amusement gracing his features. You try to get away, but he’s faster. Moves in the water as he strips himself off the bathrobe.
The image makes you choke.
How ethereal yet sinful of a moment. Tempting as he pulls it off his strong shoulders, revealing the bulging bicep, throwing the bathrobe to the side with an absolute indescribable, fiery aura.
Teeth pull at his lower lip before they instantly release it. Then the tongue, running over glistening lips, eyes hooded, the bathrobe sitting where he did without him even regarding it. Like a villain who sets a house on fire and then walks away without looking, badass to the core.
Fuck, he’s broad. And fuck, he’s coming right for you.
You try to flee, hysterically laughing, probably too loud; but he’s a fast swimmer, arms soon around your waist, wrapping around you, tugging you in. He whispers into your ear, “Talking about clichés, baby, huh?”
As he holds you there, you swallow some water, spitting it out right away before you answer, “Well… there’s a reason why they’re clichés.”
“Not wanting to waste my time showering, my ass.”
“You’re saying it sounds like a bad idea?” you whisper, breathless as he kisses your shoulder, his soft voice muttering a little, “What?” before you clarify, “Showering with me?”
“Nah. Stop planting this thought in my head,” he says, lips continuing at your neck, kissing it gently first before he morphs the touch into a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
You try to stay afloat, but god, you’ll drown if he keeps that up. But then he adds, much to your already existing misery, “Stop or I swear, we won’t even make it to the damn shower. Understood?”
“Beast—”
“You say as if you don’t know me already. Don’t you know?” he asks, pausing, kiss moving to your jaw. “That I get like this with you?”
“I… I do, so well. Not even this is surprising to me.”
You press yourself into him harder, feeling the bulge hardening below, right against your thigh. Your hand drops from his shoulder to his slim waist, further down until it gives his hard-on the slightest of touches. He groans; gives you a head tilt as a warning.
Then kisses your cheek. The corner of your lips; tickles you, pinches your waist. You engulf him a bit more, trying not to pull the two of you underwater, swimming and floating. It’s hard, though, and harder even when he tickles you again.
He must understand, because as you push him away, swimming away a couple feet, he doesn’t tow you back in. Lets you go as your vision blurs, the movements of your arms hectic enough to push more water into your eyes.
You dip below the surface for a second, regaining control, and when you’re up again, you hear his voice farther away, urging, “Come on.”
And once you see him again clearly, he’s already wading to the edge where you stood when he scared you. Right where the view to the town is the best, the pool and roof separated from the depths by a high glass wall.
You follow slowly, stroking for a moment — but it doesn’t take you long to pause again halfway through. Gliding, you watch his arms coming up and settling on the edge, muscular and mountainous like the range far away. Hair wet, water drops drip onto his already doused back.
And in front of him, a lake you couldn’t see from the other side of the pool.
Then, the mountains, like the one you went on. A village and fields and up above, a painting of stars. Millions and millions of them. Sparkling, alive, dead, moving, closer, farther… burning and bright. Reflecting in the lake, along with the moon.
His head moves to the side, probably looking for you; but you don’t move yet, just admiring the side profile for a little longer. Gorgeous, lips formed as if drawn, a clean-cut, razor sharp jaw. Golden back, broad.
As he peeks over his shoulder again, doe eyes searching for you, you finally swim towards him the moment he pleads, “Come, baby.”
And you do. Put your hands on his shoulders again, kissing his back, his neck, his shoulder blade before you settle right next to him. Imitating his position.
He says, “One could almost forget that we’re leaving in two hours. Ahh, I want to stay here.”
Right. Your group decided to check out in the late evening tonight — an exception at this hostel — to make the most of the day on the mountain and at dinner. But in a while, you’ll set out for your new destination. The beach calls for you.
You’ll check in late at night over there, and then remain at the new hotel — no hostel this time — until the day after tomorrow.
“Yeah. Just a bit more,” you say, sighing before you let him know, “By the way… I do feel a lot warmer now.”
“Good,” he says, although you don’t miss the beguiled smile he flashes as he looks away, “anything for you to not get sick.” He nudges your elbow with his. “Not before the big day.”
No, not the big day. If anything, you’re even more overjoyed over it than tomorrow. And nervous — oh, so nervous. You don’t think you’ll feel any different until the day rolls around.
What will happen at the wedding? What’s the atmosphere like in a smaller gathering? What does the magic of such a place elicit? It must be so different from any event in the city.
Could it make you fall in love with him with further desperate urgency? Seeing him standing there, admiring you in your dress, thoughts whirling as the couple of the night promises each other eternity. Does the romantic serenity of a wedding make hearts of those in love burst more?
No. You don’t think it’ll make you fall for him harder — because you don’t need a wedding for that.
A moment like this suffices.
Yet. As you stare ahead, fixing your eyes on the clouds, you remember something. Curious as you think back to the first day and ask, “Hey. What did Jimin mean when he said I should be excited for the wedding? What does he know?”
Jungkook sighs, shaking his head at your friend’s slip-up. He smirks, and then says, “Well, you’ll see at the wedding, right?”
“…Jungkook,” you challenge, and he looks at you so innocently, hiding whatever secret he shares with Jimin. But you don’t fall for it, ideas already brewing in your mind; one blurted as you ask, “Did you get me something?”
But he’s unfazed — a good actor. “Wait up,” he says, “if you’ve got any theories, keep them to yourself, though! You’re too smart for me.”
“C’mon, as if.” You wait. Wait a bit more, pupils shaking, just slightly distracted when he frees your cheek off your hair again, giving you a chaste peck. “Wait. Oh.”
He chuckles, a little lost in you as he copies, “Oh?”
“Jeon Jungkook… are you proposing?”
And that’s when he breaks into a laugh. A loud one, Jungkook-esque, sweet and genuine, with his eyes nearly closed, mouth open wide. So, so enchanting as he says, “I did not expect that. But sure, that’s what it is.”
“Well, that cancels it out.”
“Oh, baby…” He pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head to look at him, kisses you again, just for a fleeting second. “You’re so cute. So, so cute. I love your cute ass so much.”
Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.
They never cease. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this word. You don’t think there’s a way to get used to Jeon Jungkook confessing his love — his love — for you.
Ugh, he drives you mad. Into absolute insanity.
Sucks you out of breath, your heart palpitations reasoned in him. Your body craves him; not cold anymore at all. Tingling and wanting.
Starved for him, you look into his dark eyes, intrigued by the wet bangs, and with all the patience you can muster, you finally whisper, “Let’s go and hurry to that damn hotel. Hm?”
Tumblr media
DAY 3
You love packing your bags, but you hate reorganising them. Like, stuffing back dirty clothes because there’s nowhere else for them to go, changing your initial order. 
You won’t empty your suitcase for that one remaining day anymore; you’ll only be here for another night anyway.
But you want to separate the worn stuff from the clean one. Thankfully, your suitcase is spacious enough; after all, there’s no chance in hell you’re having your soon-to-be-messy swimsuit reside right next to your resplendent dress.
Yawning as you rummage through your things, you shoot a fleeting glance at the ticking clock at the wall. It’s only 8 o’clock in the morning. Breakfast has already started, but you and the others longed to sleep in, agreeing on a 9 AM meal.
But for some reason, the two of you already awoke about half an hour ago; nevermind that today’s schedule doesn’t begin before noon.
For some time, you merely lay on your sides of the bed, enjoying each other’s company, brief kisses here, modest touches there — until you decided to make yourselves useful. Still tired, yet unable to fall back into sleep, being productive was all you could do.
Albeit, you’re distracted. Your mind keeps drifting, your heart still pounding thinking about the shower last night, taken right as you checked in and found your room. Not as tired from the busy day and the two-hours-drive to the hotel anymore when he touched you.
You still feel the ghost touch of his palm around your neck; glistening lips exploring your cheek and your jaw.
And… there are bruises on your leg somewhere, reminiscent of when he dragged you into bed, keeping your thighs apart with a grip passionately aggressive. Loving yet brutal. Uttering admissions that still coat your flesh with goosebumps.
Shit, are you grateful for the proper room. All to yourselves at last.
You cover your naked thigh. The oversized shirt barely hides his effect on you, but he seems rather distracted anyway. Of course he is — whenever he spies the lavender dress, like now, he becomes one hell of a goner.
He fishes it out by ruining some of your tidiness, the folded top and two shorts falling out as he pulls the dress from underneath them. You complain, “Hey!”
But he’s still examining the gown, shaking his head once again as he did the last few days whenever he caught a glimpse of it. You still remember his reaction when you first brought it home, presenting it to him but not yet putting it on.
You assured him you looked hot in it beyond hell, but that he’d have to wait to actually see you wrapped in it.
His eyes were still wide, alright. Mouth drooling. And you understand — when you first laid eyes on it, you knew it was made to be yours: soft, pastel pink hue. Dreamy and ethereal. Shit, you can’t wait to wear it.
Apparently, he can’t either.
Because he declares, “You’re gonna be so fucking pretty in this.”
“You told me.”
“And I’ll keep doing so. My god, I’ll need to keep an eye on you all night!”
You laugh. “Ah? Why?”
He shrugs a shoulder, explaining matter-of-factly, “Some of my friends there are still single. Gotta shield you from their shit. I mean, they loyally respect me, but then again… it’s you.”
“Oh, oh,” you voice, tutting, “and the girls? Are some of them single, too?”
“Well, I guess so, but—”
“Nothing but. I’ve seen you in a suit before, mister. What if some of them are girls from your high school? What if they had a crush on you? Fuck it, they all probably did,” you ramble, and he listens, lips twitching; he forces the laugh back. “No, you’re sticking by my side that night, Jeon.”
You raise a finger, wiggling it like a warning, blabbing the most ridiculous, “No running away with other chicks.”
“As if, you idiot,” he jests, “even if I got shitfaced as heck and you carried me home and I didn’t realise it was you? And you pretended to be somebody else — I’d still tell you that I need to go fetch my girlfriend.”
You cover your mouth as laughter fills the air; you’re sure your eyes are sparkling at the fantasy, and your voice changes, euphoric to an unknown extent as you say, “Oh my god. I so want to witness that one day. I’m gonna try to get there.”
“I believe you. What else will you be wearing? This? Wait,” he asks, picking out a silk and lace lingerie from the side; baby pink. But you snatch it out of his hands as he adds, “Is this part of your attire?”
“Well, now you ruined a perfect surprise.”
“What! I don’t think I did, though? Wait for my reaction. It won’t be any less than you expect.”
You smack your lips in faux disappointment, but in truth, you get it very well. Seeing him always feels new to you, too.
You brush your hand across the fluffy carpet as he eyes the dress once more, waiting until he’s folded it neatly again, putting it into your suitcase. Then, he leans against the bed, observing as you get back to work.
Your lips open, pouting a bit. You give the sweetest, most genuine reactions; how you form an Oh with your mouth when you like something you brought. Or how disgusted you look when you’re reminded of your two-days-old clothes again.
You mutter, “Gonna have to ask your mom if she’s okay with me using your washing machine.”
“She will be, for sure.”
“I’ll even hang them to dry myself.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm! Shit, Jungkook. I’m so excited!” you exclaim, fingers moving fast over your stuff, and he keeps watching. “I wanna tattle about you with your mom! And I can’t wait to meet Ria, either. She sounds so cool and—” You peer up at him, and when you catch him smiling, you wonder, “What?”
“Nothing, just…”
He shrugs another shoulder, already moving to close your suitcase. You watch with an innocent curiosity in your eyes, hands on your knees as he pushes it away. He reaches for your wrists to pull you closer until you’re between his legs, your own crossed, obliging wordlessly.
Then, he speaks again, “Can you kiss me? Really wanna kiss you.”
He always wants to kiss you. And staring at these rosy, pretty lips of his, arched so prettily, you don’t think you fare any better.
So you’re walking on air when his hands settle on your waist to tickle you, forcing you to relocate them down to your hips. You ask, “Do you ever get enough?”
“Hmm… Do I look like I do?"
“I mean. Do you really just want to kiss me, baby?” you inquire, but he’s already onto pecking your lips, pulling at them. You place your arms around his neck. “Your eyes look just like they did yesterday.”
“Ah, really?” A featherlight kiss on your neck. “So I won’t have my wish granted?”
“You… You’re stupid,” is all you say before you prove him wrong — diving in, locking your lips, moving them slowly against his, in unison.
You tilt your head immediately. Kiss him deeper, seeking his hair. His hands wander to your back, and you arch it when he hauls you closer. Your tongues come into motion at the very same time, a touch intense enough for him to breathe a sigh that you feel, that you hear.
And before you know it, you’re moving further; straddling him. He pushes your shirt up, only to the small of your back; the other hand moves down to your ass, nothing on you but your underwear. And considering it’s a string, not even that matters.
He has free reign to your rear, squeezing and slapping lightly. At which you lean back, breathless, giggling a little as you watch him move back in — trying to catch another kiss, eyes drooping and lips parted.
But when he realises you’re pausing, not granting him what he needs, he looks up into your eyes. You say, “Thought so. That’s,” you touch his hand over your ass, “what your eyes said. Even after you wrecked me just last night, huh?”
“Sorry,” he mutters with a grin — but his expression soon changes. Back once more against the bed, he promises, “I… if you don’t want to, we don’t have to though. I’m okay with just organising our stuff or chilling.”
Oh, the way he touches your heart…
You blink, affection in your pupils reflecting in his. You coo, and then call, “Oh, baby…”
“No, seriously. Whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”
“I’m… I’m comfortable with you, you know? If I ever feel like not doing something or disagreeing with you… I’ll be honest with you.”
He silences for a moment. Keeps gaping at you. Then, “Do you feel like you can?”
But no matter how deep his insecurities are, your answer is immediate, “Always.” Swift pause. “Kook, I— I know you still fear I could distance myself from you. I see it, but… I won’t. As long as you’re willing to stay, I will, too.”
“I will. I promise. And I’ll never ever do anything to hurt you again. Not on purpose… okay?”
Hmm… you wish these moments were rare. It does happen ever so often that he seeks reassurance and vows; your companionship, regardless of what lies in your pasts. To know you’re here despite all the despites.
But if you need to, you’ll keep dispeling his fears all your life.
So you say, “I know. I know.” Brushing through his hair. “And I want this.”
“It won’t hurt? We just did last night—”
“If it does, we can stop. I always want you. Besides…” You circle over his lap, your hips a tease. You feel the bulge stir. “I can’t blueball you.”
Jungkook smirks in the way only he’s able to, clutching your butt again, and you catch your lower lip with your teeth. He states, “Brat, acting like it’d be the first time.”
“You’re just… so hard already. Can’t do this to you. Or me. Not today.”
“Babe… you being so sweet makes it worse. And this isn’t even its final state, you know?”
“Of course I know.”
Oh, of course you do. Whenever you think it can’t get crazier, he negates your beliefs. Well equipped as he is, your man, the thought suddenly makes you want to unwrap him again, like a gift crafted just for you.
He’s in a black tank top; tattoos reach up to his shoulder, muscles flexing as he holds you. You touch them, sneaking further to his wrist, and then take the plunge and lead his forefinger into your mouth. Then, you suck.
Upon which his eyes immediately shut. He draws a deep, shaky breath, barely exhaling much of it when you twirl your tongue around the tip of his finger. Absent-minded yet fully aware, he shakes his head, taking a moment to compute before he pulls his digit out again.
His cock twitches beneath you, much as a last warning.
And a second later, out of the blue, there’s a hand on the nape of your neck while the other shifts to your buttbone, pushing you to the ground with his body in tow. You fall flat on your back, his face right above you. Lips crash against yours again, strong hands pinning your arms down.
“You’re so brave,” he deduces, “like you forgot yesterday.”
“I could never. Maybe… maybe I’m just trying to repeat it.”
“Oh… smart, smart. If that’s your wish.”
Cocky, how he tilts his head and winks. How he pushes your thong aside without a warning, already damp, freeing your pussy before his touch collides with it. Fondling with it; making you release a pleased sigh. Gaze still set on you firmly, fingers running up and down. To the clit.
You’re already out of your good mind; but you attempt a fair approach; a mutual effort in which you try your best to push his shorts down. He’s not wearing anything underneath… you know because he threw them on last night after the chaos that ensued, wanting to rush to you. To sleep in peace.
And he’s well aware of it, because as it slides down to his knees, he dares a step further. Fists his cock and replaces his fingers when he drags the tip up and down your heat. You sigh again before it contorts into a moan, gripping him, pleading, “Kiss me again?”
“Not yet. I wanna see you wind.”
“Why…? You’re so mean—”
“Just now. Come on. Look at me.”
You do. You’re met with a hungry beast who’s yearning for you, simultaneously so soft — easing you into this, not dipping his fingers in just yet. Discovering how you feel; how soaked you get; how far he can already proceed.
He might be craving you, but he’s not stupid; he’s cautious. Gauging your reaction.
This man… this man…
“Want me to push it in?” Jungkook then questions, making your eyes rip open; you didn’t expect the inquiry this soon, but you’re not opposed to it at all.
You nod, eyebrows furrowed. Your voice is feeble when you agree, “Please.”
“Please, yeah?” he repeats, just the head prodding your entrance — but then, he chuckles. “Baby. Take care of yourself when I can’t. I can’t fucking think, you know? But even I know you’re not ready yet.”
“I…”
“Just a bit more, okay?” He slaps your pussy; you wince. “Wanna get up and undress?”
“No,” you instantly blurt, “want you like this. Right now. I don’t care about the shirt.”
“Right… so that’s how it is.”
He leaves the two of you just the way you are, except kicking off the bothersome shorts. Pushes your shirt up to your tits, too, stopping right underneath the mounds, still covering them. He leaves it there, dizzy about how your nipples perk against the white shirt, just above the Kakashi Hatake print.
Huh.
“Is this my shirt, by the way? You stole it, didn’t you?” he gathers.
You pretend, playing the innocent lamb, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can’t believe you. Stealing my clothes… and my perfumes,” he recollects, his voice going up and down. He’s referring to the time you used his cologne just to keep his scent close; once. He was very amused by it. “What’s next? My heart?”
Only that you already exchanged both of yours. He knows, because he can’t really feel his own heart beat, but yours. After all, your chest houses his thumps, not his.
But he still clicks his tongue; kisses down your body, caressing your sides, and then shoves your panties aside. He spits on your pussy so indecently, in a manner so filthy that it affects your entire body.
The sharp tip of his tongue is the first to taste you. The first to intrude. Lightly and softly, he attempts a touch, anticipating a reaction that he barely needs to wait longer for than a nano-second. Because your body blooms immediately, your pussy constricting.
There’s never a single reason for him to react with surprise; if anybody in this world understands your body as well as you, it’s him. He knows you to the tiniest detail; so why the astonished, “Oh? Oh, oh…”
Then again, maybe that’s all that’s necessary to set the mood further; he doesn’t elaborate on it, nor does he ask any questions. Instead, he French kisses your cunt with the techniques he’s mastered to the core. With each time you spend with him like this, he gets better.
Because he knows when to draw back, when to return. When to kiss you again, when to pull at the nether lips. Or when to nibble just lightly, when to use his tongue. It’s obvious in the twitches of your legs, and how he needs to keep them in place each time — hence, the bruises.
Your head lifts when he angles your right leg on the side, enabling better access to where he wants to drown. And when he comes back, he seems starved; maybe he needs that promised breakfast soon to come. Or maybe not; maybe he’ll feast on you enough.
Because he’s thorough; does enough work on you to divulge, “Maybe I was wrong and you are ready after all.”
“…M-maybe.”
“Wish we’d brought the sex toys. Man, I want to…” He touches your clit, painting patterns, a steady and diligent artist’s hand; and you can’t help but imagine it’s the vibrator he often handles. “Wouldn’t that be good?”
“Don’t… do this to me.”
A smug chuckle. “Sorry, bae.”
Ever since he gave you the damn toys months ago, he’s teased you about them constantly. And ever since you started inhabiting the same walls as him, he’s prompted orgasm after orgasm. God, the last few weeks alone, he’d revel in your whines.
Overstimulating, keeping you awake on weekends, battering your cunt and your nub. Nerves on fire. Tears of pleasure and sobs of exhilaration.
“Jungkook…” you start. He hums, but your brain blanks; you think about whatever you were going to say until you remember and jabber, “We’d never get t-to breakfast then.”
“So? I’d still be having mine.”
Thought so.
“But…” you argue, no clue why at all. “They’d be waiting.”
“I think they’re just as bad as we are. C’mon.”
You laugh before you mewl; insane when he buries himself in your sex, tongue in a whirl, plump lips operating so agonisingly skilled. He heaves your legs onto his shoulders; everything feels wet and warm and dirty.
Nerves burning again; your entire neural system is alight like a torch, buzzing like electricity.
And you want to close your legs but you can’t.
The motion only covers his ears, much to his disdain as he says, “Stop… I can’t hear you like this,” before dragging his tongue down again. Pushing your body up, he grips your ass, pulling the cheeks apart before he licks over the string just for a moment. Then suggests, “What if we added something to our collection one day? Hmm?”
His thumb toys right over your clenching hole; you grasp for a breath, airheaded as you admit, “I… don’t know yet.”
“Fine. There’s time.”
There is, but you want it to pass faster. Want him over you, around you. And maybe he can read your thoughts after all, because a second later, he’s uprighting himself; once again slapping his dick against your drenched mess. Hiding it between your folds as he rubs it up and down.
Then moves it side to side rapidly, helping himself, pumping until he’s grown impossibly solid. On his knees, he shifts on the mattress until he’s kneeling right over your face, and you raise your head, mouth ready and open without a single command necessary.
He’s chuffed about your keenness; breathes out a laugh as he drags his cock between your lips and onto your tongue. You’re rigorous, his good girl, sucking right away.
Fuck, he savours the moment much like you are; watching the saliva drip down your cheek obscenely. It covers his dick, much of it enveloped by your mouth; the picture of you barely being able to take half of him in this position yet trying sends him into pure madness.
And when your tongue teases his slit and the head, he thinks he’s dying and being reborn.
“I’m dying and being reborn, babe. What the fuck,” he repeats, immediately regretting it when he realises he spoke it out loud; because you’re right beneath him, eyes foggy but the sudden giggle entirely contrary.
“Glad to hear.”
Jungkook uses the separation from your lips to back away already; any longer and he’ll have to help you rinse out your eyes. He leans down again, kissing you, hips aligning with yours as he prepares for the next step.
He’s gentle as he places your hands on his shoulders, and you already understand why. Already make yourself comfortable, getting into position as if for war, already realising that you need him to kiss you or your scream will shatter the building—
“Careful now,” he still warns, right before he reads your wish off your eyes and dives back in for more making out. You nod; you know. Your neighbours don’t need to—
Fuck.
Fuck, how big he feels when he digs in, not even fully inside yet.
Isn’t it just a bit more than the head so far? You bite your lip when you hear yourself whine, suppressing it, eyes watery. Your mouth transforms into a thin line, but Jungkook opens it with his finger; telling you, “I don’t care who hears.”
Okay. Okay. Then… you’ll stop holding back, right? You moan and call his name, hearing in his tender sounds and overjoyed, endlessly breathy and quiet laugh that he’s loving it. He asks, “Can I go farther in?”
“Thought you’d never ask…” Yet, it doesn’t happen. He refuses for some reason; which is why you work towards him instead, your hips upthrusting. Pushing at his ass, knowing how much he’s enjoying your helplessness. You say, “You are mean.”
“Mhm… especially to you, right?”
“Especially to me,” you laugh. “You say you love me and then edge me? Prove it, won’t you?”
“Ohhhh no.” He drags out the syllable, a sudden change in his tone, as if you’ve purposely teased him to a challenge. A you did not just say that kind of vibe. “You will not doubt that I love you. Fuck no.”
He buries his face in your clothed tits, kisses the spot between them; one hand envelops your left side before he lets go and gets serious. Kicks his shorts away and then— bottoms out. His balls clash against your ass, your eyes rolling back. His words ring in your ears.
And then, he’s already dragging himself out before plunging back in. Hard. Remains like this. Then out again; all the way in again, harder. Repeating it with a hand on your neck; but the moment, much to your irritation, doesn’t prolong at all.
Jungkook must have been quick to make a decision to torment you today when you first kissed him ten minutes ago. Because he fully draws back, leaving you empty, a hand on the back of your head as he mutters his thoughts to you, “Am craving this mouth… Get up.”
You, like his personal doll with a sudden lack of feminism in your body, get on your knees without hesitation. Your hands remain between your legs, as if waiting for him to put a leash on you; rubbing yourself against the soft carpet until he stops your antics and grips your cheeks.
He urges you to open up, pressing in, and when you do, he doesn’t wait to shove his cock in again. This time, he helps you out: goes back and forth, fucking your wet tongue, and then moving his length until the tip prods your inner cheek. He angles it like a fishing hook, bringing it out of your mouth and then back in again.
And you’re careful to suck diligently. You taste yourself, fighting for breaths. Look up at him, take him like your last meal on Earth; touch his balls as he relishes in your gaze. When your hand encases his dick, that’s when he stops moving, glancing up to the ceiling as if praying.
You slow down; wait as he catches his breath, and then ask, “What do you want me to do?”
You’re not always this forlorn. Sometimes you take matters into your own hands, no questions or permission necessary. You often knock him back onto the mattress, straddling him, riding him into the sunset.
But you want to submit today; that’s the mood you perceived. That’s what his eyes reveal and what your body itches for. Something he wants, too: to destroy you, to fuck you senseless.
And he notices the shift. “My god, would you look at that,” he drags, hardly believing that you’re looking at him like this. “Bed. Lean over it.”
You listen; of course you do. Your knees press into the carpet, upper body flat on the bed. Ass out, arms on the mattress. 
He touches you gently; first your back, then your hair, and then your arms. Finds the right position, and then rams himself into you. You barely expect it — the intrusion is sudden, happens in one fell swoop.
His legs cage in yours, and he soon pushes yours together, dying for further friction and for you to feel it more intensely. Your eyes flutter shut, and your previously lifted head falls, your cheek against the sheets.
You move with them as he thrusts into you, and you hold onto the fabric to remain in place. Perhaps he sees your efforts, because he’s soon determined to help — or to rile you up further, you can’t say. He catches your arm, just one, pinning it to your back.
A heavy hand falls onto the soft flesh of your ass once. And then, he raises your upper body until it’s glued to his chest. An arm wraps around your tits, two fingers pinching your nipple as he drills into you from behind.
As you yelp and heave breaths, you hear him say, “You wanna know, huh?”
“I…”
You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you allow him to air his rage. He leans in, kisses your neck, wants to know, “What’s that like? You okay, baby?”
“I’m okay… I’m so okay—”
“And so pretty like this. You’re always… so pretty. I’m so fucking lucky.”
“I want to see you.”
“How did I…”
“Kook—”
“I know. I know you want to,” he says, but he takes another minute to fuck you hard, fast, revved up, and you don’t complain. Not even when two of his fingers slap your cunt, multiple times, rapidly until he repeats, “I know. Would you turn around for me? Sit here?”
How couldn’t you if he asks so nicely, right?
Your legs are shaky and trembling as you take a seat on the edge of the bed, much as he commanded. It’s high enough for him to fuck you standing here; but he doesn’t go in right away as you thought. Instead, he kneels in front of you, forehead to forehead, sentimental all of a sudden.
Did you wanting to actually see him change something? Did it remind him once again that you’re not just what you used to be? A way of passing time, a company to quench each other’s thirst?
Then again, you know Jungkook. He never forgets. Never forgets what you are to him.
Repeats each time just as he is now, “How did I end up with you?” Every time. Tells you every time that he cannot fathom his luck, that you’re more than he’ll ever deserve. He adds, “You want me to prove it to you?”
Oh…
That’s what he—
This time, the kiss is short-lived, albeit urgent. His hand cradles your face when he moves up and slides back home. He fucks you softer first, not as beastly as before. But you guess the distance is as irksome to him as to you, because he soon bends down.
Puts his hands on your ass and shifts your body on the mattress until you’re on your back, laying in front of him. Just the same position as before on the ground, but cosier; it’s easier to hover above you now, scanning your face like you’re the only star in the vast, expanding universe.
The only source of light in this darkened room.
“Hey,” he calls, even though you’re already looking at him.
He grazes your temple, tender as a flower petal. His eyes are a melting, dark brown, almost black; you think you see yourself in the reflection, even though it’s impossible in a setting like this — maybe that’s what he means when he says you reside in him.
Your existence in his chest, your eyes in his.
“I love you,” he then proclaims, “and I’ll show you all the fucking time if you need me to.”
“I… I want you to…”
“Good. Good, baby. You know I’ll do anything, right? Not just this and not just now. I’ll do anything for you.”
You half-smile as he says it, as much as possible between your moans; you don’t know what else to do, because nothing else suffices. Not an I would, too and not an I know.
So you say nothing; only raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes, showcasing every shred of affection you harbour. You keep looking at him until the thrusts force your eyes shut again. And this time, you don’t need long to fall into a series of gasps and outright craze.
You understand you’re close when he pleads, “Can you touch yourself? Please?”
And it helps — considering that you’re already riled up like not once in the past days, the next minutes pass fast, and the end is immediate. The familiar stars soon block your vision, your body quivering; you barely realise what happens and when it happens.
Nothing, but bliss bliss bliss…
Until you very clearly feel the liquid underneath your ass, the sheets soaked, all of it wet. You hear Jungkook laugh, absolutely satisfied. Your eyes rip open and you ask, “What happened?”
But the question is redundant — because as your mind clears, you gather what it could be.
You ruined the sheets. You’ll have to come up with a good ass excuse and ask the receptionist for a new blanket for your room. Fuck. A hell of a guest you are.
“You squirted all over my dick,” Jungkook still clarifies.
“I’m sorry…”
“What? No. It looks… it feels so…”
He doesn’t need to finish his sentence; it seems that the thought alone hardens his cock and balls impossibly. Enough for him to follow your example, letting go. He shakes his head, silences, and then moves in to kiss you hard; to fuck you harder.
He shoves you into the mattress repeatedly, navigating in and out of you so easily that you think he might slip out. But he doesn’t; instead, he spills. Spills hotly, abundantly. You know the bed is soiled forever.
Somehow, you’re even sorry for anyone who might book this room next; but somehow, as guilty as you might feel about it, you feel better for yourself. Then again — it’s fine, right? You’re probably not the first to make a mess of a room like this.
Making out with you one last time, Jungkook remains like thi, not wanting to move as his dick still pulsates and twitches, softening just slowly. Doesn’t want the liquid to leak if he moves out. Maybe thinking the same about the room as you.
His next question, however, is an entirely different one, “Do you believe me now?”
You titter. Even now, even after witnessing each of your reactions, your boyfriend won’t let the thought go. Set on what he feels for you, he’ll probably prove it to you an entire lifetime long.
You promise, “I always will. From anyone in this world, I’ll believe it the most from you.”
“My baby,” he coos. Waits. Then sighs before he says, “Okay, enough of that distraction. We have breakfast to catch. I bet you, five more minutes and they’ll knock.”
“Oh… uh-oh. Quick shower and then hurry?”
“…Great idea.”
Only, the shower isn’t as quick as you anticipated — the two of you are silly, reforming your shampoo hair, giggling until the knocks occur and you bolt to the breakfast hall. The others are already eating; by the looks of it, they’ve just started, though.
Yoongi is the first to speak after you’ve exchanged your polite Good mornings. In fact, he scolds rather gently, “You guys are late. We need to be at the beach by noon, don’t forget.”
“Yeah, we just…” You shrug. “We were organising our suitcases.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook nonchalantly confirms. “Forgot the time.”
Your excuses are so casual, so careful, your eyes busy as they watch your hands smear butter and jam on your toast. Only, you’re not as casual. Your friends fall silent. Their stares alternate between Jungkook and you as the two of you pass a knife or comment on the food.
No word until you hear Jimin gasp and look up at him. His expression seems amused, and you know he’s about to say something bold before he actually does—
“Oh, you fucked… You had the time to?!”
Tumblr media
THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ 👇🏼
1k block limit, beloved. you can read the remaining 10k of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon
Tumblr media
A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!
TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.
Warnings: smut
Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.
It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.
He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.
"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.
"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.
Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.
As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.
Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.
Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.
"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.
As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.
"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.
"Good luck, My Prince."
He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.
Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.
To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.
"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.
"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.
Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.
There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.
When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.
You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.
"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."
"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.
"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."
"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.
Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.
"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.
"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.
"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."
"I know you are."
"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."
"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."
"Yes, My Prince."
By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.
"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.
"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.
"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.
"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.
"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."
"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"
"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."
"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.
"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."
"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"
"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."
"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.
"I don't know," he says.
The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.
"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"
"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."
"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.
"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.
"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."
"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"
"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."
"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.
"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.
"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.
"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."
"Father--"
"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.
"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.
"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.
"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.
"Very well."
Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.
"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.
"Maybe it's for the better."
"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.
"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."
"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.
"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."
"I won't either."
"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.
"When did he say he wanted you back?"
"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.
But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.
“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.
“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.
“We should stop.”
“Why?”
“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“
“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”
"Are you sure?"
"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.
His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.
When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.
"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.
Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.
"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.
"I love you."
"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.
When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.
When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.
He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.
He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.
"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.
"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.
"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.
"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."
It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.
The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.
But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.
You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.
"Y/N," she says softly.
"I just heard the news."
"Yes."
"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"
"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."
"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.
"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.
"What do you mean?"
"Aegon has been crowned."
"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"
"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."
"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.
"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."
"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.
"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.
"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.
"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.
"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."
"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.
"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."
"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."
"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"
"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.
"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.
"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.
Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.
Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.
The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.
"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"
"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.
"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.
"I won't."
"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."
"I won't do that either."
"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.
"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."
"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"
"He won't. Nobody needs to know."
"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."
"He's been angry. I've made my decision."
The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.
"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"
"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.
"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.
"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.
"I know I should have told you," he starts.
"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."
So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.
All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.
A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.
Yes.
On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."
"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"
"The best yet," you say.
As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.
When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.
"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.
"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."
"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.
"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.
"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."
"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."
"So I did."
"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.
"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.
"Of course."
"Our world is not as safe as it once was."
"I know."
"Very well."
You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.
"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.
"Soon, I think," Jace answers.
"Why has it taken so long?"
"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."
In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.
Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.
But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.
He was as bad as Joffrey, though.
When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.
Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.
The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.
"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.
"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.
"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."
"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.
"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."
"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.
"Speak to my mother."
Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.
"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.
"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.
"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.
"With you, of course," you say immediately.
"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.
"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.
"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.
"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."
"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.
"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.
Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.
"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."
"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.
"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."
"All I want is right here."
1K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 4 months
Text
The Doll House | Epilogue
Tumblr media
doll!sunghoon x doll!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), threesome, unprotected sex, cream pie, eiffel tower, oral (m&f.rec), deep throating, doggy, soft dom!hoon/sub!jake, hoon&jae don't get it on but there is one kiss, cum plugging, nipple play, angst, mentions of heaven/hell, not a lot of jongseong (sorry jay lovers!) wc: 22k synopsis: you and jaeyun return to the house that started it all, however you didn't realise the impact that leaving would have on the demon you left behind, leaving you with a choice to make, and both involve visiting heeseung's room just one more time. heeseung | masterlist | a/n: hi! so if you haven't been keeping up with me or my blog then this epilogue will surprise you but with everyone wishing for just one more chapter i thought why not do an epilogue? i tried to give everyone an ending they deserved so i hope you all like it! likes, reblogs, feeback, comments are all appreciated as always! thank you so much for the love on tdh
Tumblr media
“Y/N, can you please tell Jaeyun that this is a communal space,” Mia exasperates, pointing over to the doll and the current tornado of clothes lying over the living room floor. 
There are clothes everywhere; tops on the sofa, trousers on the carpet, and his underwear messily splayed over the small dining table situated in the corner of the room, the very location Mia happens to be as she tries to eat her lunch.
Mia and Jaeyun have developed a love-hate relationship over the past three months. To be honest, this wasn’t the problem you thought you would have when you told Mia that you are soulfully attached to a doll that is possessed by your should-have-been guardian angel. That was already a massive hurdle to overcome but you thought that maybe they could become friends once they get to know one another properly.
Unfortunately, Jaeyun holds a grudge, her words from her last visit to the mansion still stinging his heart, and Mia has never been a fan of dolls or supernatural entities living amongst the living. 
“He is WHAT?” Mia exclaims with her jaw slack enough to catch flies.
You look at Jaeyun who is standing one foot behind you, still wary of telling her, “He’s alive. Surprise!” you smile awkwardly, jazz-handing your way out of explaining any further about the situation you have found yourself in.
Mia turns pale, stumbling backwards and collapsing onto the table behind you, her body desperately seeking support. You understand it's overwhelming; after all, you weren’t prepared to handle such news back then either. Granted, a mere 20 minutes later your mouth was being stuffed with his doll cock so there wasn’t that much time to process.
“Y/N, you need to get that freak of nature back to his creepy dollhouse,” she quivers, pointing accusingly at Jaeyun.
“It’s not a dollhouse, it’s a house that dolls live in,” Jaeyun clarifies, rolling his glass eyes in annoyance.
And from there, it has been bicker after bicker between them.
You haven't told Jaeyun about his true background and who he was meant to be, knowing the others withheld this information for a good reason. Staying with him has revealed his true personality to you - a fragile soul not yet ready to face the harsh realities of his tragic death and his actual purpose in life. It might be selfish to keep this from him, but he's happy as he is. Why shatter that peace?
Besides, you would hate for him to see his brothers differently. The love he has for them is so pure that you can't bear to ruin it.
"This is actually mine and Y/N's place. You're just crashing here because your boyfriend dumped you and kicked you out," he retorts, a smug smile playing on his lips.
"It'll be your place once you start paying rent. Ever thought of mannequin work? You'd love it - they stick a metal pole right up your a-"
"Enough, you two," you interject firmly, quelling the rising tension. Memories of the last altercation flood your mind—it was not a pretty sight when Mia attempted to break his arm and toss it out the window. "Baby doll, can you hurry up and pack? We promised Soonyeol we'd be there by 2pm at the latest," you say softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile.
Nodding, Jaeyun bounds over the clothes, finally picking what he wants to wear. The way he was packing, you would think that you were staying at the mansion for a week, not just an overnight trip.
You had planned this trip for Jaeyun because it was so evident how much he was missing them all. He was on the phone to them every night, particularly Sunghoon, and once he hung up the phone he would look dejected and eagerly anticipate the next time it was appropriate to phone. One time, he was on the phone so long that you went to bed when it started and woke up just as it ended.
Of course, it's natural for him to miss them; it's all he's ever known in this existence. Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for taking him away from his home, but you also recognise that it would have hurt you both even more if you were apart, especially considering Jongseong's previous warning about being unlinked to your guardian angel. Moreover, he wanted to come of his own accord, and you've made it abundantly clear that he's free to leave whenever he wishes.
As you watch him pack, a sense of warmth fills your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, you're grateful for every moment you get to spend with him. And as you prepare for this trip, you can't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing him reunited with his loved ones.
You would also be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to seeing them again.
"Are you almost ready, baby doll?" you ask softly, unable to hide the loving smile tugging at your lips.
He scrambles to fit in some final pieces, doing a quick verbal checkover before clicking his fingers in realization. "Two minutes! I forgot my sunscreen," he says before darting up the hall to rummage through the bathroom cabinet.
"You're made of plastic!" Mia yells at him, clearly flabbergasted, then turns to you. "Is he serious?"
"Be kind, you know how he is. Plus, he's made from thermoplastic elastomer, not plastic. You know this," you reply with a gentle chuckle, understanding Jaeyun's quirks all too well.
Ever since you brought him home, Jaeyun has been determined to be as human as possible, eagerly picking up traits and characteristics to blend in seamlessly. You often find him engrossed in binge-watching sitcoms and movies, the TV becoming his best friend as he tries to grasp human behaviour. After all, the only human he had ever come into contact with before you was Soonyeol, and everything he learned about cities and people was through her and some old books.
Exploring outside with you has been an adventure, though he requires glasses and a bit of contour to give his complexion a more lifelike appearance. So far, your cautious outings to the shops or bustling hubs of people have kept you inconspicuous.
You made it clear to Jaeyun that the last thing you wanted was for him to feel trapped in your flat, understanding the toll it took on your mental health all those months ago. Thus, you both make a concerted effort to integrate him into society, ensuring he experiences the world beyond the confines of your home. 
Once he comes back and packs his unnecessary sunscreen and an extra-extra pair of socks, he is ready to go, the excitement on his face evident as you both say goodbye to Mia and head back to the house that started it all.
_____
The crackle of gravel under your tyres fills the air, and suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. Is it odd to feel nostalgic for a place you were in just three months ago? Shouldn't that sentiment be reserved for moments like childhood memories of playing in a friend's backyard at age six?
Bringing the car to a stop, you gaze ahead and notice that the moss and bushes have been trimmed, giving the exterior a more manicured appearance. The daisy bush is still intact, if not more beautiful than the last time you set eyes on it. It's a subtle change, but it speaks volumes about the passage of time since you visited the place Jaeyun called home. 
You glance at Jaeyun and find the brightest smile lighting up his face, his left leg bouncing in eager anticipation. With a gentle touch, you tuck some of his hair behind his ear, pulling him from his trance of happiness. His leg stills as your touch renders him relaxed. "You ready, baby doll?"
He nods, clasping his large hand over yours, bringing your palm to his plump lips and kissing it gently. "Are you? I think that's the big question here," he replies, sensing your apprehension about returning to the mansion. It’s the downside to having a soulmate that feels your emotions with you, you can’t ever hide when you’re upset or nervous.
It's not that you don't want to see everyone; it's the simple thought of what if Jaeyun wants to stay here again? Being in the city with you could have been a nice holiday for him, but what if he decides he wants to go back to Soonyeol as soon as he sets eyes on her?
He doesn't have friends back in the city; he only has you. Sometimes, you wonder if that's enough for him. Soulmates or not, a person cannot survive solely on the love of one other person. He needs a network, and unfortunately, that network is here in this mansion.
You assure him with a grin and a nod, feeling the warmth of his affection as he presses his knuckles to your lips once again, sealing his love for you inside of it, reassuring you even only slightly. Together, you step out of the car and walk up to the grand front doors, the nervousness in your body different from when you arrived on your first day on shift.
Reaching out, you raise your hand to knock on the door, your heart beating just a little faster with each passing moment. This visit could change everything, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead fills you with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
A minute of silence passes before the door swings open, revealing Soonyeol with her cheery grin and bright energy. She looks as beautiful as ever, her long hair and pretty sundress almost making you curse at yourself for wearing a pair of shorts and an old band t-shirt that has faded in its whiteness from frequent wear.
Jaeyun lets go of your hand and leaps forward, embracing her tightly. His excitement is palpable, and you can't help but smile at the sight of their reunion, even if a pang of insecurity tugs at your heart. You step back slightly, giving them space, watching the reunion with a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. 
There's happiness for Jaeyun, seeing him reunited with someone who clearly means so much to him. But there's also a twinge of uncertainty, a fear that perhaps this reunion will change things between you two.
You take a deep breath, pushing aside those thoughts for now. This moment isn't about you; it's about Jaeyun seeing his found family and getting the much-needed time with them. His happiness is the upmost importance.
"Soonyeol, it's been too long," Jaeyun says, his voice filled with genuine affection as he pulls back slightly from the embrace, still holding her at arm's length.
"It really has, Jaeyun. I've missed you," Soonyeol replies, her smile softening as she looks at him.
You step forward, offering a tentative smile. "Hi, Soonyeol. It's nice to see you again."
Rolling her eyes playfully, Soonyeol reaches for your arm and pulls you into a warm hug. "Come on, Y/N, we don't need to be awkward here! You're part of the family now," she says happily, her voice filled with genuine warmth as she embraces you like a lifelong friend.
There is no weight of angst towards you in her body. She is so kind and generous that you wonder how on earth she has such a hold on Heeseung, considering someone with a pure heart like her must be the easiest target of all. 
"Thank you, Soonyeol," you say softly, grateful for her kindness.
As you pull back from the hug, she waves off your appreciation and gestures towards the inside of the house. "We're all in the living room," she comments, not offering to show you the way. It's a subtle acknowledgement of your familiarity with the mansion; after all, if anyone knows this house as well as she does, it's you.
With a nod of understanding, you follow her lead and step inside, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you reenter the familiar surroundings of the mansion. It’s strange how easy it is to fall back into place as soon as you cross the threshold; you’re almost seconds away from grabbing the green feather duster again.
You roll your case across the mahogany floor as you walk towards the living room, marvelling at the once creepy, dark walls with a sense of fondness. You missed this place more than you will ever admit to anyone, the tranquillity of it all was missed on nights of sirens and drunken shouting just outside your flat.
Jaeyun doesn't seem to mind the hustle and bustle surrounding him. In fact, he's fascinated by it, curious as to why so many people are in such a rush to skip through life when there's so much of the world they're missing. Whether their noses are buried in their phones or they simply don't care to interact with one another, Jaeyun sees the beauty in every moment.
If there were an award for chatterboxes, Jaeyun would undoubtedly win it. From the moment you realised he could converse, you knew he had a lot to say. Every day, he fills the air with his thoughts and musings, and you couldn't love it more. You are aware that his past got swiped from his memory, but it's truly as if he's experiencing his first life.
Yet, you can't help but wish he could speak to more than just you and Mia when he's back home with you. The world is full of people he could connect with, and you want nothing more than for him to experience the joy of making new friends and sharing his boundless enthusiasm with others. A person as pure and joyful as him should be able to enrich people's lives the way he has yours.
Reaching the living room, Jaeyun takes your free hand and squeezes it, prompting you to turn to him.
"Hmm?" you ask, tilting your head as you catch his soft expression.
"I love you, you know that right? You know I'm not going anywhere if it's not with you," he says earnestly, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. His serious tone leaves no room for doubt; he means every word.
Jaeyun may exude the excitement of a puppy who loves being looked after, but he's also incredibly understanding of your own needs. He knows that sometimes you need verbal reassurance, especially now that you’re diving back into the complexities of life at the mansion. While it's easy to pretend to be just another normal couple back in the city, here you're acutely aware of the history that lingers in the halls and the events that transpired.
With a soft smile, you squeeze his hand back, feeling a rush of gratitude for his unwavering love and support. "I know, Jaeyun. And I love you too. More than you'll ever know," you reply, your voice filled with affection. 
Jaeyun leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before releasing your hand. "Let's go join the others, if they’re anything like me then they’re literally dying to see you.”
Walking into the room, you notice Jongseong entering through the back garden almost simultaneously with you and Jaeyun. His presence halts you all to a stop, and a warm smile spreads across your face, reaching your ears.
"Princess," Jongseong greets you, setting down the shears in his hand before striding briskly toward you. His arms open wide as he approaches, and before you know it, he's lifting you up and spinning you around, eliciting a delighted giggle from your lips.
"Hi, Jongseong," you greet him warmly, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. There's a sense of joy and ease in his presence that never fails to lift your spirits. Throughout your time in the mansion, he was always your backbone to getting through it, living up to his guardian angel ways.
As Jongseong sets you back down, your curious gaze sweeps over his attire. "What's with the new look?" you ask quizzically, noting the departure from his usual casual clothes. He's sporting dark green overalls, stained with mud and grass, paired with a black slouch t-shirt underneath, and gardening gloves.
Jongseong spins around, giving you a full view of the outfit before bursting into laughter. Soonyeol tucks under his arm, hugging him from the side and running her hand over his broad chest.
You can’t help but wonder if Jongseong ever told her about your night on the altar, or the one in the kitchen, or the countless ones on her bed. But by the way she's acting, it seems she remains oblivious to it all. For now, you'll let her live in ignorance, choosing not to disrupt the peace.
“Jjongie suggested it,” Soonyeol explains, looking up at him with an adoring stare.
"Yeah, wouldn't want someone to prick a finger or anything on the thorns now, do we?" Jongseong's voice carries a playful tone as he makes jabs at your past experiences with the garden.
Since your departure, he's come to realise that there's so much more to life that Soonyeol could be enjoying. Heeseung may have provided her with all the material comforts and companions she desires, but Jongseong knows that true fulfilment goes beyond mere possessions and superficial fantasies. He saw it in you - someone with everything the big city life could offer, yet still yearning for more.
So, he's been spending more time with Soonyeol, teaching her to play instruments and nurturing her interest in gardening. And with Jaeyun no longer by her side like a clingy pup, her schedule has opened right up, leaving more time for Jongseong to show her the joys of a fuller, more enriched life.
Jaeyun absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your once-pricked finger, as if Jongseong mentioning it might cause you to feel the pain again. You can't help but smile at his gesture of concern. It's a small yet meaningful reminder of his caring nature, his instinct to comfort you even in the most subtle of ways.
“Jaeyun can help me actually, I have some rubble to take around to the bins if you could help me?” Jongseong suggests.
"Sure thing, Jongseong," Jaeyun replies eagerly, ever willing to lend a hand. "Lead the way."
With a nod from Jongseong, the two of them head off to tackle the task at hand, leaving you momentarily alone in the living room with Soonyeol. It's not that you don't get along with her - she's been more than welcoming to you in her home - but it's still strange to be left alone with her, unsure of what she knows about your relationship with the boys or what transpired while she was gone.
You grab Jaeyun’s suitcase and hold it next to yours, “I’ll go put these away and come through,” you smile politely, trying to avoid being in a one-on-one conversation with Soonyeol just in case you talk about how big Jongseong’s cock is and how you felt it jump when he picked you up.
"I can get one of the other boys to do that," she offers kindly, but you decline, shaking your head. "Well, Jaeyun's room is all set up if you want to set up camp there."
"Thanks, Soonyeol. I appreciate it," you reply, grateful for her understanding. With that, you make a hasty exit, eager to avoid any potentially awkward conversations for now.
_____
On your way to the room, you make a tiny little detour. Should you, considering every time you linger in places you aren’t meant to be, you end up in peculiar situations? No. Did you, because each of those peculiar situations has made you feel alive and there’s no scaring you anymore? Of course.
Standing outside the library, you twist the creaking knob and push the door open slowly. The familiar smell of old books fills your nostrils, and a sense of nostalgia washes over you. It's been a while since you've been in here, and you can't help but feel drawn to the rows of dusty bookshelves, each one holding countless stories and secrets within its pages.
Sighing quietly, you step inside, letting the essence of the library envelop you. Despite the risks, there's something about this place that calls to you, beckoning you to explore its hidden treasures once more.
Perhaps it’s the literal phone to hell that brought you here first of all places in the house.
You glance over at the painting of the sheep, its head firmly back on its human shoulders but despite seeing it countless times and being fucked mercilessly on the other side of the door it shields, you can’t help but still feel some distress. It is so easy to forget about its existence when it isn’t staring back at you. 
You find yourself drawn to it, despite your better judgement. There's something about the way it seems to watch you, its eyes following your every move, that fills you with a sense of unease. You can't quite pinpoint which part of your body is drawn to coming back to it, but you hate it all the same.
“There’s still time to change your mind.”
That siren voice pierces your ears, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. Tension coils in your muscles as you recognise the voice, its allure tinged with an undercurrent of danger.
Turning slowly, you come face to face with the source of the voice, and your breath catches in your throat as you see Heeseung smirking before you. His lips glisten as he licks them, his eyes roaming all over your body with an intensity that makes you feel as though you might as well be naked.
His gaze pierces through you, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. There's something about the way he looks at you, a hunger in his eyes that sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
You swallow hard, trying to regain your composure in the face of his intense scrutiny. Despite the unease that grips you, a part of you can't deny the pull of his magnetic presence, drawing you in despite knowing better. He just has something about him that you can’t shake from your soul, like he has some weird grip on you.
With a forced calmness, you meet his gaze head-on, determined not to let him see the fear that churns within you. "Hi, Heeseung," you reply evenly, keeping your tone steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.
"Hi, baby. You miss me?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as he snakes towards you with deliberate steps.
You fight the urge to succumb to his magnetic presence, to fall to your knees and let him use you as he pleases. Instead, you stand your ground, ignoring the way your spine quakes with each of his measured steps.
"You know you're tempting fate by coming back here," Heeseung says, his eyebrow raised knowingly.
His observation cuts through the air like a knife, striking a chord of truth deep within you. There's no denying the danger that lurks within the walls of this mansion, especially when it comes to Heeseung himself. The Prince of Hell was once ready to offer you everything you desired in exchange for Soonyeol's existence, and you were dangerously close to accepting.
That's the trouble with Heeseung—he always seems to know what you want, even when you try to convince yourself otherwise. Deep down, a part of you still yearns for the life he could offer you, the power and influence that come with being by his side. But you have Jaeyun now and you’re happier than ever to come home to someone who loves you more than the trees love to blow in the wind. 
"I came here because Jaeyun wanted to, not for you," you argue back, mustering all the confidence you can fake as you fix your posture.
"My sweet baby," Heeseung tuts, closing the distance between your bodies with a smoothness that makes your heart race. It's as if you're two steps away from embarking on a lovers' tango. He reaches out, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. "Are you saying you didn't miss us?" he asks, his voice low and seductive, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
Of course, you missed them - all of them. But the way you missed Jongseong and Sunghoon is vastly different from the way you missed Heeseung. With Jongseong and Sunghoon, it's a deep, heartfelt longing, born out of adoration and connection. But with Heeseung, it's different - it's a craving, an addiction to the thrill of his touch and the excitement he brings to your life with a mere snap of his fingers.
You can never admit that to him, though. The truth would only complicate things further, and you've worked too hard to suppress the nightly urges to pray to him and have him sweep you away. So you keep your lips sealed and push away any thoughts connecting to the matter.
Your silence only fuels Heeseung more, the once gentle grip he had on your chin now tightening to lock you onto him. “I think about that day you snuck into my room. How you were whimpering like a dog in heat,” he ridicules, leaning dangerously close so his lips are ghosting over yours, “Do you remember? You were grinding yourself on my foot like a pathetic little bitch.”
The humiliation washes over you in waves, threatening to drown you in its wake. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your body betraying you with its response to his words. Why are you getting wet over this? It's humiliating, degrading, and pride-destroying, yet you can't deny the visceral arousal coursing through your veins.
You're on the edge, teetering dangerously close to surrendering to the desire that simmers between you and Heeseung. Part of you wants to mewl out and ask him to do it again, to succumb to the intoxicating pull of his dominance. But another part of you - the part that still clings to the fragile threads of self-respect - fights against it, struggling to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his overwhelming presence.
Before you can say another word or do anything you will live to regret, you feel someone standing at the door.
“Heeseung, Soonyeol is asking for you,” Sunghoon’s deep voice rings out like a bell of relief.
Quickly regaining your composure, you take a step back, putting some distance between yourself and the lingering echoes of your encounter with Heeseung. Sunghoon's accidental interruption may have saved you from making a decision you would regret, and for that, you're grateful.
But while you're relieved, Heeseung is clearly disgruntled. An annoyed groan escapes his lips as he rolls his eyes, his frustration is evident in his demeanour. He knows how close you were to giving in, and if he had just a sliver more time with you, he might have ensnared you like a Venus flytrap.
With a curt nod, Heeseung heads towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. But before he leaves, he turns his head to look back at you, his eyes piercing and intense.
"My offer is still on the table, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and determination. "Come find me."
His words hang in the air like a tantalising invitation, tempting you with the promise of fulfilling your deep-rooted desires.
Sunghoon clears his throat, his gentle smile a reassuring beacon in the midst of Heeseung's lingering presence. "Did you forget where the bedrooms are in your time away?" he quips, his tone light yet mindful of the heavy atmosphere.
You manage a small chuckle, grateful for the diversion. "No, just got a little sidetracked," you reply, appreciating Sunghoon's effort to ease the tension. You won’t go into detail about how you were seeking out the altar on some nostalgia tour.
Just as you're about to speak, Sunghoon smoothly takes hold of the two pieces of luggage and begins to stride towards Jaeyun's room.
"I see that snooping habit of yours is still alive and well," Sunghoon remarks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you, his tone playful.
You hum softly in acknowledgement, unable to deny the truth in his jest. Glancing around, you admire the porcelain dolls that line the hallway, their delicate features and intricate dresses catching your eye. They are so beautiful that you wonder how on earth anyone could be scared of them or find them haunting.
Sunghoon follows your gaze, his own eyes softening as he looks at the dolls you're fondly staring at. "They've missed you," he comments, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia.
"I missed them too," you admit with a wistful smile, your fingers grazing the smooth surface of one of the dolls as you walk.
Sunghoon's playful demeanour turns gentle at your confession, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "I'm sure they're glad to have you back," he replies, his voice carrying a note of sincerity, “I know I am.”
His admission brings your attention back to him, but his stare quickly averts, darting around the corridor as if looking for an escape from your piercing gaze.
Moments like this are subtle with Sunghoon, he isn’t quite ready to be vulnerable but you know under the demonic persona that harbours his entity, there is a kindness to him. In your time here, you didn’t see it often, typically during the post-orgasm bliss or when you needed a bit of reassurance, but in those times his vulnerability lasted just long enough to seep through.
You chuckle softly at Sunghoon's admission, the playful banter lifting the tension that had lingered. Lightly jabbing his shoulder, you tease, "Did you miss me that much?"
Sunghoon's chuckle is warm and genuine, a sound that fills the hallway with a sense of ease. He nods in response, his gaze still fixed ahead, as if he's unwilling to meet your eyes. "A lot, more than I thought I would, baby girl," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.
His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion. Despite his attempts to mask it, you can sense his words hold a strong susceptivity that he's not quite ready to fully embrace.
But you understand. Because you feel the same way.
“I missed you too, Sunghoon,” you murmur, your voice filled with the same quiet genuine feelings. Sometimes there is no need for loud, grand declaring gestures of fondness, sometimes it’s as simple as saying your feelings out loud.
Reaching Jaeyun’s room, Sunghoon halts, setting your suitcases down with care. "Here's where you get off, in every sense of the phrase," he quips with a playful smirk and a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. 
Your cheeks flare with a crimson hue as embarrassment floods through you, a groan escaping your lips at his suggestive remark. Truth be told, nobody's fooling themselves about you and Jaeyun - your intimate escapades are hardly a secret. Mia's blunt commentary hasn't let you forget it either, threatening noise complaints with each ‘Fuck, Jaeyun, you look so pretty sucked into my pussy like that’.
Sunghoon's hand gently cups your cheek, his lips pressing tenderly against your forehead. His gesture catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily stunned. You're now with Jaeyun, and the sudden affection feels awkward, though undeniably stirring. You feel yourself at melting point as you succumb to his touch so easily.
You hadn’t spoken to Jaeyun about any of this, to be fair, you hadn’t imagined any of the dolls would care about you in this way now that Soonyeol was back, knowing their bond with her was much stronger than the one with you. You’ve silently asked Jaeyun not to go back to Soonyeol and that means in any form, which is probably why you feel so guilty because, in the past 20 minutes, you’ve wanted to jump on two out of three of his brothers’ bones.
Sunghoon's gaze meets yours, and he senses the rapid thumping of your heart, understanding instantly why you're so uneasy. With a gentle clearing of his throat, he withdraws from you.
"Sorry, force of habit," he confesses, his tone filled with remorse. Yet, it's a habit he shouldn't have slipped back into so effortlessly, yet it felt like breathing; as if touching you was his birthright.
You wave off his apology, understanding that his intentions were never malicious. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you know Sunghoon's actions stemmed from familiarity rather than any ill intent towards you and Jaeyun’s relationship.
He shared you with the other doll for so long that these things can easily skip his mind.
Inhaling sharply, he nods, “Soonyeol wants us all around the table for dinner, something about lasagna she found in the freezer.”
_____
After dinner, you find yourselves nestled comfortably in the living room, enveloped by the warmth of the crackling fire and the gentle hum of conversation. Soft melodies drift through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the group. 
You observe with a sense of contentment as the dolls and Soonyeol engage in lively discussion, their interactions filled with genuine interest and respect. There's a certain harmony to their dynamic, a shared understanding that speaks volumes about their bond.
It occurs to you that this must have been the essence of their existence before you entered the picture - the simple joy of companionship, the comfort of having each other's company. And while your presence may have altered the dynamics in some ways, tonight, surrounded by their collective warmth, you can't help but appreciate the beauty of their unity.
You don’t regret having Jaeyun by your side but his hearty laughter at Jongseong’s terrible jokes or playful pouts towards Sunghoon as he gets teased only make you wonder if you made the right choice.
You can't help but notice the intimate scene unfolding between Soonyeol and Heeseung, their easy familiarity and tender gestures speaking volumes. As Soonyeol recounts her childhood mishap, Heeseung's touch becomes a silent reassurance, his hand tracing soothing patterns along her arm while offering gentle squeezes of support whenever she mentions moments of pain.
Their relationship is a puzzle to you - a blend of affection and care. Soonyeol's adoration for Heeseung is evident in the way her eyes light up when she's near him, reaching for his hand with a longing that mirrors your own gestures of comfort with Jaeyun. And Heeseung, in turn, showers her with gestures of kindness and devotion, his actions speaking volumes about the depth of his feelings.
Yet, he is still posing the offer to get rid of her for you to stay. No person in love would give their partner up so easily.
Jaeyun interrupts your thoughts as he starts up his Switch, the melody drawing your attention away from the complicated couple. He begins to show Jongseong the wonders of technology even though Jongseong has lived long enough to know what a gaming console is and what its purposes are. But as always, he lets Jaeyun yap away and acts clueless.
Glancing at the clock, you realise it's already 10pm, and the exhaustion from the day's long drive begins to weigh on you. Your social battery, already running low, signals that it's time for some much-needed rest.
"I'm going to head to bed," you announce softly, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation.
Jaeyun's gaze shifts to you, his expression momentarily puzzled before softening with understanding as he notices your fatigue. It’s so refreshing to have a man care about you the way Jaeyun does, you almost don’t understand how at one point, a boy with his personality was just walking around and existing as a human. You understand why he was chosen to be an angel.
Puckering his lips playfully, Jaeyun leans in expectantly, silently requesting a goodnight kiss. Without hesitation, you lean in beside him, meeting his lips with tenderness. As your mouths meet, a gentle murmur escapes him, barely audible against your lips. "I'll come through in a bit," he suggests softly.
You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay, baby. Spend some time with everyone," you murmur in return, nudging your nose against his affectionately. He gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you're sure, to which you simply nod in reassurance.
"Okay, I love you," he smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection as he bids you goodnight.
"Love you too," you reply softly, your heart swelling as you reciprocate his affectionate words. With a lingering gaze, you reluctantly pull away from Jaeyun's embrace, a fond smile gracing your lips as you whisper your goodnight.
Turning to the rest of the group, you offer a warm farewell, exchanging nods and smiles before excusing yourself from the cosy gathering. As you make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casts a tranquil ambience, enveloping you in a sense of calm.
The gentle padding of your footsteps echoes through the hallway, accompanied by the occasional crackle of the fire in the living room. Each step brings you closer to the comfort of your own space, where you can finally unwind and recharge after the day's events.
You enter the room and head straight for your case, opening it to rummage around for the pyjamas you packed. Unlike your doll spouse, you packed only the essentials, that being Jaeyun’s oversized t-shirt and some underwear. You still don’t understand why he would bring a full set of plaid pyjamas when he always sleeps in his boxers anyway.
Your fingers pause in their search as you hear the soft knock on the already slightly ajar door. Swiftly turning around, panties in hand, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon standing there, holding a cup of water in his hands, his eyes lingering on the pink underwear you're holding.
"Those are my favourite," he remarks, tilting his head to nod at the delicate garment dangling from your finger, his tone laced with playful mischief.
You quickly shove the panties back into your case, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the moment. It's silly to feel bashful around Sunghoon - he's seen every pair you own, every part of you laid bare - he's even seen your period pants, and those are definitely not a pretty sight.
Sunghoon chuckles at your antics, choosing to ignore the urge to tease you about your now beetroot face. Holding the glass of water up to catch your sight he walks into your room. “Here, thought you could use some water. It’s been hot as hell at nighttime these days.”
You nod appreciatively, touched by his consideration, as he places the glass on your bedside table. As he turns back to you, you meet his gaze, silently exchanging stares. He’s grown a little softer since you last saw him. You don’t know if it’s just your imagination or the lighting, but his eyes look less cold and that black cloud that followed him around is a faded shade of grey.
Instead of leaving, he just stays put as if he wishes to speak to you about something but he doesn’t have the courage to. It’s ironic considering he’s a demon from the underworld and you’re just a girl, yet, he looks slightly scared of you. It’s such a juxtaposition to a few months ago that you wonder what transpired here after you left.
You decide to at least make some conversation to fill the silence, “How has it been here? I bet you’re all having a great time now that there is one less doll to fight for Soonyeol’s attention,” you jab teasingly, smiling softly.
He gives you a soft pity laugh, one that someone gives when the other couldn’t be more wrong in their assumptions. “It’s pretty much the same,” he shrugs, stepping closer to you, his demeanour shifting, anguish bubbling under the surface slightly. “She mushes over Heeseung and Jongseong, they go about their business.”
“And you?”
“I’m…here,” he breathes out, dejection laced within his tone.
Sunghoon settles onto the edge of your bed, clasping his hands together, and you can't help but feel a pang of concern for him. His internal struggle is evident, and you wonder if he's wrestling with something he's hesitant to share. Never once you’ve seen him look so human, his normal cold exterior could give you ice burn, so this is new territory for both of you.
With a soft sigh, Sunghoon finally starts to speak. It's clear he's grappling with whether to open up or keep his thoughts to himself. “You know, it never used to bother me, being the last choice or even just a choice for that matter. I got what I wanted, I was content with everything.”
Sunghoon's words hang in the air, heavy with a sense of resignation. You listen quietly, sensing the weight of his thoughts as he navigates the complexities of them. This has to be difficult for him considering demons aren’t known for heart-to-hearts, so you want to give him the respect he deserves and take in his thoughts.
"I didn’t care because I don’t think I’ve felt anything for a long time," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The past however many years down there, and the almost five years here, I just didn’t feel a thing. No happiness, no sadness, no fucking thing at all." 
His words sit heavily in your heart, and you can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him rather. You can understand having a lot of emotions at once but if he hasn’t felt them in years, he might as well be laying down in a stampede of turmoil.
He chuckles darkly and shakes his head, grasping the heaviness of the situation as he says it out loud for the first time. “When I was working as a soldier under Dis, it was like I had to switch them off to survive. I couldn’t keep any humane aspect of me because it would kill me to know that I was doing all these cruel and monstrous things.”
His words paint a vivid picture of the internal battle he's waged for survival, forced to suppress his humanity in order to endure the atrocities he was compelled to commit, the experience surrendering him to his demon ways. It's a harrowing revelation, one that leaves you grappling with the enormity of his suffering. 
Sunghoon's words challenge your preconceived notions about demons, forcing you to reconsider your assumptions about their nature. While you once believed that demons took pride in their wrongdoings and found pleasure in the pain of others, Sunghoon's experience suggests otherwise. Perhaps some demons are simply products of their environment, forced to adapt to survive in a world that demands cruelty and brutality.
As you reflect on Sunghoon's past and his evident lack of joy in his actions, you begin to question whether he truly belongs in the same category as the demons you once feared. Maybe he wasn't a bad guy at all, just someone who was given the wrong end of the deal. While he may not have been saintly enough to earn a place in heaven, he also doesn't seem to fit the mould of a typical demon.
The realisation dawns on you that perhaps Sunghoon defies easy categorisation, existing in a grey area between good and evil. Surely, in the universe you inhabit, with its myriad mystical creatures - demons, angels, goblins, and humans alike - there must be an understanding that no one person is entirely pure or wholly evil.
"I turned up, did my job, rinse and repeat, you know? And killing people, well, that was one thing, but the torture of people who didn’t even deserve it, or the…" he swallows harshly, as if suppressing the disgust that bubbles from his guilt, struggling to admit anything else he partook in, "I did all that, with no bat of an eye for so fucking long."
His admission is raw and unfiltered, laying bare the depths of his remorse and the internal struggle he's faced. It's clear that he carries a heavy burden of guilt, grappling with his past life as a soldier.
For a moment, there's a palpable silence between you, the weight of his confession settling over the room like a thick fog. You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure of how to offer comfort or solace in the face of such profound suffering. This isn’t someone's cat dying, this is years of mental torture, and nothing you say can console that.
Grabbing his hand, you interlock your fingers with his. "You must have had something good inside of you to stand up against Dis though, to fight your way out of his legion," you offer softly, hoping to provide some semblance of comfort.
It may not be much, but you want Sunghoon to know that you see beyond his past, beyond the darkness that once consumed him. You want him to understand that whatever happened down there in the depths of hell, you won't judge him for it. His struggle and sacrifice to break free from that life, to reject the cruelty and injustice he was forced to perpetuate, speaks volumes about the strength of his character.
"Dis wants death to everything he didn’t create," he growls out, his tone dripping with contempt. "He was being greedy and started hurting fellow soldiers. It doesn’t take emotion to know that it was going to end in a be killed or die trying situation."
The memory of his fellow soldiers' bodies burning before him flashes vividly in his mind, and you can sense the torment in his voice as he relives those traumatic moments. He thinks about the countless times he was made to strike the match, being complicit in the horror that unfolded before his eyes, and the guilt weighs heavily on his conscience.
"That doesn’t make me a good person," he continues, his voice trembling with self-condemnation. "It makes me scum because I watched it for so long, turning a blind eye when I should have been doing anything at all to stop it."
His admission is gut-wrenching, laying bare the depths of his remorse and self-loathing. In that moment, you're overwhelmed by a profound sense of empathy for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort and support as he grapples with the demons of his past.
Sunghoon’s body trembles as all his emotions flood him, his entity unequipped to handle such a vast complexity. 
"Oh, Sunghoon," you murmur softly, your heart aching for him as you envelop him in a tight embrace, offering what comfort you can in this moment of vulnerability. You hold him close, rocking him gently as he grapples with the weight of his confession.
"I can't imagine how you're feeling," you continue, your voice filled with empathy and compassion. "No one ever will, and I wish I could take the pain away from everything that you're feeling."
Sunghoon nods in response, his gaze fixed on the ground as his eyes flicker between black and normal. You hold him tighter, silently offering your support and understanding as he processes the tumult of emotions swirling within him. At this moment, all you can do is be there for him, a source of solace amid his inner turmoil.
Pushing you away gently, Sunghoon finally looks at you, his gaze searching your eyes for understanding. When he sees the genuine sympathy reflected in your gaze, he relaxes slightly, a sense of relief washing over him.
"I think you brought my humanity back," he confesses, his thumb stroking your hand to comfort you as if you were the one who just had vivid flashbacks to the worst moments of your life and not him.
You tilt your head in confusion, your brows furrowing. His light laughter at your concerned expression eases the tension slightly, but you're still puzzled by his words. 
"It's not a bad thing, baby girl, don't worry," Sunghoon reassures you, his tone gentle as he seeks to alleviate any concerns you may have. But there's a determination in his eyes as he continues, a resolve to confront the turmoil within him head-on.
"Yes, I'm going to have to work through whatever the fuck trauma I have because there are so many negative feelings right now," he admits, his voice tinged with resignation. "But you, fuck, you made me experience all the good ones again."
His words catch you off guard, a surge of emotion welling up within you as you realise the impact you've had on him. Despite the darkness of his past and the challenges that lie ahead, there's a glimmer of hope in his words. “You have done something that Soonyeol couldn’t do, something I couldn’t even do for myself.” 
Reaching his hand up, he cradles your face just like earlier, this time rather than instinct, it’s purposeful, to ease you into his next bout of words. “When you were here, I knew I wanted you around all the time. At first, I thought it was just because I was bored and you were there.”
Ouch. 
He sees your wince at his brutal honesty, and his eyes widen in realisation. "Oh god, baby girl, no, no no," he exclaims, his other hand reaching out now to cup both your cheeks as he shakes his head fervently. He rolls his eyes at his own passing comment, recognising that it's probably the last thing you want to hear.
"I don’t mean it like that," he clarifies quickly, his voice laced with urgency. "I mean, I stopped thinking like that after a few weeks in. I felt warmth for the first time in so long that I thought Dis had found me and I was being dragged back to hell with how warm it was."
You grasp his hands, gently pulling them away from your face as you listen intently to his words. You haven’t said much, but there's nothing to say right now. You can't interrupt him while he's pouring his heart out to you. Instead, you offer him your unwavering support, silently conveying your understanding and acceptance as he shares his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.
Once he sees that you’re no longer offended by his words, he continues, “When you left, I tried to turn it off, longing for you the way I did. I thought you would never come back so I tried to shut the pain out, but somehow it only made every feeling and memory I had suppressed come to the front of my mind, I missed you as soon as you drove off that day, and I miss you even more now that you’re sitting in front of me.”
“Sunghoon, you don’t have to miss me when I’m right here.”
“But you’ll never be mine. Jaeyun is your soulmate, how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?” he asks softly, laughing away his anguish. He is trying to hide it but you can see this is as painful to him as reliving those memories. You didn’t realise the hold you had on him or how leaving would affect him.
In all honesty, you thought that with Soonyeol back, the other boys wouldn’t need you at all. Heeseung can say he wants you but that’s in no way the same way that Jaeyun wants you, the way Sunghoon clearly wants you. 
You had missed the acts of care he performed for you, the aftercare becoming more loving as the weeks passed, how he would spend the night in your bed and cuddle despite his inability to sleep. He did all of this for you because…
"Whatever love feels like, I think this is as close as I am capable of feeling," Sunghoon confesses, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Hooni-"
"I know, you have Jaeyun and we can’t share anymore, but I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me," he interrupts gently, his words filled with gratitude.
"We could."
You hear a voice in the doorway, and as you turn to face it, you see Jaeyun standing awkwardly, his eyes shifting between you and Sunghoon.
Removing yourself from Sunghoon's embrace, you're acutely aware of the situation's delicate nature. Jaeyun must have been standing there for a while, silently witnessing his brother's confession to you.
Sunghoon's expression tightens, a mixture of surprise and apprehension crossing his features as he exchanges a hesitant glance with Jaeyun. It's clear that he hadn't anticipated Jaeyun's sudden appearance, and the tension in the room thickens with his presence.
For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words lingering between the three of you. As you search for the right words to break the awkwardness, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the situation you find yourself in.
Jaeyun offers a small smile, his eyes softening with understanding. "We could share again, like before," he suggests gently.
Sunghoon shakes his head, his expression sombre. "Jaeyun, we can't. It's different now that you're both in a relationship," he explains, his voice tinged with regret. "Look, I didn't come in here to get in between you both. I just wanted you to know how I felt. I think maybe saying it out loud could help me process it all a little better," he confesses, his gaze shifting between you and Jaeyun.
"You love Y/N, I love her too," he begins, his voice calm yet resolute. "I think as her partner, I want her to experience love from every person she can receive it."
His words are met with a moment of contemplative silence, the weight of his proposition sinking in. Sunghoon's expression softens, a flicker of gratitude and relief crossing his features as he processes Jaeyun's unexpected response.
"Baby doll, relationships don’t work that way, I mean they can but not ours," you murmur softly, the words tumbling out as you try to make sense of the situation.
But Jaeyun's next question catches you off guard, causing you to pause and consider his words carefully. "You love him too, do you not?" he asks, his gaze steady as he waits for your response, no judgment in his tone.
Do you love Sunghoon?
There’s no denying there is something there between you both, but you never gave into it once you found out he was a demon, knowing that you already make bad enough choices with men nevermind falling for an evil entity - the men you’ve swiped on tinder are demonic enough.
But you know now that he isn’t evil. In no way is he a saint but who is? He’s been labelled evil yet as you stare at him, you see nothing but a bright soul staring back at you. You have feelings for him, those could be love if you open up your heart to him rather than closing it away.
You look into Sunghoon’s eyes and realise, there’s only one organ in your body that you should listen to, and it thumps so easily for Sunghoon.
"Yes," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love him."
The admission hangs in the air, the weight of it settling over the room like a gentle breeze. In that moment, you feel a sense of clarity and certainty wash over you. 
Despite the happiness within your chest at the words finally leaving your lips, you worry about Jaeyun’s reaction to your words. Yet, when you look at him, your pretty doll is smiling widely, walking over to you both. Jaeyun's smile is radiant, his eyes alight with genuine happiness as he approaches. There's a warmth in his expression that fills you with a sense of reassurance as if he's silently affirming his acceptance and support.
“Then let’s do it. Sunghoon, you’ll love it in the city, there is so much to do and see. There are so many things to take pictures of, and they have indoor ice rinks, can you believe it? You don’t even need to wait until the lake freezes over in the winter to skate!”
Jaeyun’s excitement fills the air, any tension from Sunghoon’s past revelations or his loving confession is now swept to the side due to your boyfriend’s happiness. He’s one in a million because what other man could hear their best friend and girlfriend confessing love to one another and be thrilled about the prospect of a throuple?
Sunghoon smiles but shakes his head, “I can’t come with you, Jaeyun. Heeseung would never let me go. Plus, Soonyeol already had a hard time when you left, I can’t do that to her.”
"You mean the same Soonyeol who doesn’t pay attention to you anymore?" you inquire, your words cutting through the tension with brutal honesty. It's a difficult question to ask, but one that needs to be addressed.
Sunghoon's expression tightens at your blunt assessment, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he composes himself.
"What would the old you do? Not this Sunghoon, the one just before I arrived here?" you press, your voice gentle yet insistent.
He ponders your question, his gaze falling to the ground as he delves deep into his thoughts. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I would have... done what I wanted."
"And what do you want?" Jaeyun prompts.
Sunghoon hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours for guidance. Then, with a sense of resolve, he confesses, "I want to come with you." His words hang in the air, a tangible declaration of his desires and aspirations. In that moment, you can feel the weight of his longing, his yearning for something more than the confines of his current existence. “It’s not that easy though.”
“Forget about all that, just follow your emotions for now," you say with a fond smile, urging Sunghoon to trust in his instincts. "What are they saying to you?"
“That I should kiss you.”
Your gaze flickers to Jaeyun, whose grin speaks volumes, his eyes filled with understanding. With a quick nod of agreement from your boyfriend, you return your attention to Sunghoon, who appears rigid and apprehensive, fearing he may have been too honest in his confession and jeopardised his chances.
Perhaps he should have expressed the deep-seated desire for freedom that has been gnawing at him. Heeseung had painted a picture of independence, free from rules and authority, a dream Sunghoon longed to pursue. But trapped within the confines of the mansion, he realises he's merely exchanged one form of captivity for another.
Was it as brutal as Dis? Not in any shape or form, but as long as Heeseung reigns over this mansion, Sunghoon might as well be back in the cell.
Sunghoon feels stifled, yearning for the freedom to chart his own course. In the months since you've been apart, he's come to understand that true freedom isn't just about evading control; it's about embracing the power to shape his own destiny. This isn’t the life he needs.
He needs a life with you.
Once you see his eyes soften, you know whatever turmoil is raging in his head is subsiding, giving you the opening to reach out and touch his face, providing any reassurance that you can. 
Looking into Sunghoon's eyes, you see a beautiful flicker of humanity, and you know that no matter what happens, you need to do everything in your power to help him leave the confines of this house.
Kissing your palm, Sunghoon closes his eyes and trails his lips up your arm, leaving a path of tender kisses. His touch is so gentle, so unlike his usual intensity, that your body melts under his love. You're acutely aware of how special this moment is, knowing that very few have ever experienced this side of him.
He shuffles closer to you on the bed, continuing his path along your shoulder and up your neck. He sucks softly and swiftly over your tender spot, eliciting a small whimper from you. It's been so long since Sunghoon touched you that his lips had become a distant memory. Yet for him, these kisses and caresses are second nature; he hasn’t stopped thinking about you or your preferences since you left.
Having spent so much time together, Sunghoon learned everything there is to know about you. He discovered your pleasure points, memorised your likes and dislikes, and committed them to memory. Even when he touched himself at night or shared fleeting moments with Soonyeol, it was you he thought about. His body instinctively moved to please you, even if it was another woman beneath him.
He wonders if that's why Soonyeol has become more distant. Perhaps she senses the difference, noticing how his movements lack the passion he reserves for his memories of you. Her body, as much as he might try to please her, is incomparable to yours in his mind.
Sunghoon's kisses grow more fervent, his hands roaming your body as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour. You respond in kind, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer. The connection between you is electric, a mixture of longing and hope that fuels your determination to free him.
"Let me have you," he whispers against your skin, his voice filled with vulnerability and desperation. "Even if it’s just for tonight."
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart aching at the raw emotion you see within him. “I’ll do everything I can to hold you forever, Hoonie,” you whisper tenderly, hoping your words convey the sincerity of your heart.
He closes the space between you, his mouth enveloping yours with such desire that it takes your breath away. His tongue wraps around yours as his hands grip your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. The kiss is hot, making your whole body feel like it's on fire, your lips plumping with each lick and suck from Sunghoon. He loves the taste of you more than anything.
His hands slide under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. You arch into his touch, feeling the intensity of his desire matching your own. Every movement, every caress, is filled with a desperate need to hold onto this moment, to make it last as long as possible.
Sunghoon's lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. You tilt your head back, giving him better access as he continues his path, his hands now exploring the curves of your hips and thighs.
Your fingers tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You run your hands over his toned chest. He groans softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he returns his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.
Jaeyun observes you both lose yourselves in each other, his hand subconsciously reaching for his clothed cock, palming himself for some relief. Although your back is facing him, the noises escaping your mouth are enough to tell him that you’re enjoying yourself. Every moan, every gasp, sends shivers down his spine and fuels his own arousal.
The sight of Sunghoon devouring you with his kisses, the way your bodies move together with such desperate passion, it’s all too much for Jaeyun to handle. He bites his lip, trying to suppress the groan building in his throat as his hand moves with more urgency.
Sunghoon's hands roam your body with a fervour that speaks of months of pent-up desire. He caresses your sides, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. His mouth travels from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, burning kisses that make you shiver.
You arch your back, pressing closer to Sunghoon, your breath hitching with each touch. Your hands find their way to his hair, tugging gently, eliciting a deep groan from him. The sound reverberates through your body, intensifying the pleasure coursing through you.
Jaeyun's eyes hood over, fixed on the way Sunghoon's hands knead your flesh, the way your body responds to every touch, every kiss. He can see the way Sunghoon's tongue glides along your collarbone, the way your skin flushes under his attention.
The room fills with the sounds of your shared desire, creating an intoxicating symphony that pushes Jaeyun closer to the edge. He can't tear his eyes away from you, can't stop the rhythm of his hand as he imagines being part of this heated exchange.
Sunghoon’s kisses grow more intense, his hands exploring the soft skin beneath your shirt. He cups your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples over your bra, drawing a sharp gasp from you. You press into him, craving more, and he responds by capturing your lips in another searing kiss.
Jaeyun's breath catches in his throat as he watches, his own desire building to a fever pitch. He longs to join you, to feel your touch, to lose himself in the shared heat of your bodies. He wishes there was a way to indulge in your session and give you just as much pleasure as Sunghoon is.
Noticing his friend's act of arousal, Sunghoon’s eyes flicker to Jaeyun’s crotch where the hard outline of his dick strains against his trousers. Jaeyun’s hand moves faster, dipping below the waistband in a futile attempt to find relief. It’s not fair to leave him out, especially considering it’s with his consent that you and Sunghoon can divulge like this, offering to share you is an act of love. Sunghoon would be cruel to leave him out.
“Jaeyun, come here,” Sunghoon commands, his voice husky and filled with an unspoken promise.
Jaeyun hesitates for a moment, his eyes locking with yours when you turn around to look at him. You nod, a silent invitation that sends a thrill through him. Although Sunghoon is only kissing you, you looked so fucked out already that Jaeyun wonders if he could have the same effect.
Because you’ve only ever had sex with both of them separately, Jaeyun has never thought about how you are with Sunghoon. He has never been jealous, always willing to understand that what Sunghoon gives you is different from him, but seeing it in action is making him want to prove his worth.
Shifting slightly backwards on the bed, Sunghoon creates space for Jaeyun to join, his hold on your waist tightening. When you both situate yourself in the middle of the king-sized bed, Sunghoon bucks his hips up, drawing out a long moan from you. “I’m still in charge, got it?” he warns you playfully, biting at your bottom lip. He knows you take control of the situation with Jaeyun but there’s no way Sunghoon will let you do that now.
Quickly, you nod and peck his lips, “Anything you say, but go easy on him, yeah?” you ask, your eyes searching his for agreement. You love how rough Sunghoon is with you but Jaeyun doesn’t like to be degraded the way you do; it’s important that Jaeyun gets the reassurance he needs throughout the experience.
As Jaeyun climbs onto the bed, you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek before pulling him into a deep, lingering kiss. The sensation of having both men so close, so eager, sends waves of pleasure through you.
Sunghoon’s hands continue their exploration, his touch firm and possessive, while Jaeyun’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer with a gentler touch. The three of you move together in a rhythm that feels both natural and intoxicating.
Sunghoon leans in, his lips brushing against Jaeyun’s ear. “Let’s make her feel everything she deserves. Don't be selfish, understand?” he murmurs, his voice a sultry promise. You never thought you would be so turned on by the affection shared between them. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel Jaeyun whine into your mouth at Sunghoon’s close proximity.
With a firm slap on your thigh, Sunghoon signals for you to climb off his lap, only for Jaeyun to smile and pull you closer to him. While you’re busy kissing your boyfriend, Sunghoon’s fingers dance up your back, unclasping your bra to let your tits bounce freely. He presses his chest to your back and starts to grasp your boobs roughly, tweaking and pulling at your sensitive nipples.
He leans his chin on your shoulder and licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling at your ear. “I want you to ride his face, baby girl, you can do that for me, can’t you?”
You draw back from Jaeyun’s lips, eyes widening as you process his words. Sunghoon’s intense stare sends shivers down your spine, and you feel a rush of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. 
Normally you would say no because you don’t want to suffocate your partner, scared that you’ll get so lost in pleasure that you will trap them down there and cut off their oxygen, their last memories being succumbed to your pussy. But they don’t breathe so there is not a percentage of a chance that your apprehensions could come true.
Jaeyun’s ears perk up, curious to how you will react. You aren’t one to receive head from him, opting to focus on his pleasure rather than your own when it comes to oral; the noises he makes are enough for you most of the time, plus, it’s his cock that is the real star of the show after all.
Sunghoon’s hands wrap around your wrists, bringing them to a stretch. “Keep them there or else I’ll need to tie you up. You don’t want that, do you?” he murmurs against your skin, his hands snaking down your arms, ghosting over your armpit to make you shiver. 
Of course, you don’t want that because then you can’t touch them, you can’t run your fingers through Jaeyun’s hair or grip onto Sunghoon’s back when he drives into you. Touching them was almost as good as the sex itself.
With a nod, Sunghoon plants a peck on your shoulder as a thank you for your cooperation, although he is a little sad he couldn’t tie up your pretty body so he can use you as he pleases. Another time, maybe.
“Jaeyun, take off your clothes,” he instructs his best friend who eagerly bounces off the bed, shedding his clothes quicker than you’ve ever seen him before. His cock bounces to attention as it finally has the chance to breathe, its tip already pink with arousal.
Grabbing the hem of your t-shirt, Sunghoon whisks it off your body along with your bra, leaving your tits on full display for Jaeyun to gawk at, licking his lips as he smiles widely. “Take her bottoms off.” 
Jaeyun nods, his eyes dark with desire. Together, they begin to undress you, their hands working in unison to remove your clothes with a mixture of urgency and reverence. Each touch, each kiss, ignites your skin, making you feel worshipped and adored.
As your clothes fall away, Jaeyun’s hands move to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples while Sunghoon’s mouth patterns kisses into your shouldblade. You arch into their touch, your body trembling with anticipation, your glistening cunt dripping onto the sheets.
Jaeyun lays down, eagerly awaiting your heat atop of his face, tongue already sticking out in preparation. He looks so much like a puppy waiting for his treat that you can’t help but pout and smile fondly at him. You bring your aching arms down and manouvre yourself into position, hovering above him. 
“If you want to stop at any point, baby doll, you just tap my leg, yeah?” you smile down at him in gratitude, even if it wasn’t his idea. He hardly registers your words and nods absentmindedly, too busy staring at your folds and thinking about that first sweet taste.
The moment your thighs encase his head, he eagerly latches onto your core, his tongue delving into your folds with fervour. He grips your thighs as he gets to work, sucking and licking you like a man starved of his favourite meal.
Sunghoon’s hands remain on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching your nipples each time you move your hips, trying to match some sort of rhythm. The dual sensations make you moan, your body is ignited with sensations from all over. Jaeyun’s tongue works expertly, exploring every inch of your heat, while Sunghoon’s touch heightens your pleasure.
Sunghoon’s lips find your neck again, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Good girl,” he whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “Feel how much he loves pleasing you. You deserve all this attention, baby.”
Your hands grip the headboard for support as you move against Jaeyun’s mouth, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, Jaeyun’s eager licks, and Sunghoon’s whispered praises.
Sunghoon retracts from you, allowing Jaeyun to indulge in his own devices as he strips down, his cock springing into action, already leaking at the sight of you getting lost in pleasure. It’s strange to see you from this angle, usually viewing your contorted face through his lashes as he looks up at you.
Pumping his cock with his right hand, Jaeyun’s jaw slackens as he relieves himself, momentarily losing focus on you, much to Sunghoon’s disapproval. “Jaeyun, if I see you touch your cock one more time, I’m going to chop it off,” he says harshly, leaving no room for argument. “This is for Y/N, not your selfish needs.”
Jaeyun immediately halts his movements, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and obedience. He quickly shifts his attention back to you, his hands returning to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he resumes his dedicated task of pleasuring you. His tongue works with renewed eagerness, each flick and nibble driving you closer to the edge.
Sunghoon's eyes darken with lust as he watches the scene before him. He steps closer, his cock inches from your face. The sight of his rigid length, combined with Jaeyun’s relentless tongue, sends a new wave of desire coursing through you. You can't help but lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth.
A low groan escapes Sunghoon's lips as you wrap your tongue around him, the salty taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva. He threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
“That's it, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. “Show me how much you want this.”
With Jaeyun’s mouth still working wonders between your legs and Sunghoon’s cock filling your mouth, you're completely overwhelmed by the sensations. Every nerve in your body feels alive, every touch magnified by the intensity of the moment.
Sunghoon’s grip tightens in your hair as he begins to thrust, his hips rocking in time with your movements. You moan around him, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure: your muffled moans, Jaeyun’s eager slurps, and Sunghoon’s low, primal groans.
Jaeyun's tongue delves deeper, his pace quickening as he feels you nearing the edge again. He wants to push you over, to make you shatter with pleasure. You grind against his face, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.
"Are you close, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, strained with desire, cuts through the air, the sight of your cheeks hollowed and tears glistening in your eyes only intensifies his urgency.
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
Sunghoon hears two mewling responses, surprising him. Looking down at Jaeyun’s cock, he sees it jumping in need, ready to explode at any moment. He can’t reprimand him considering your pussy does the same to him, bringing him to the brink of busting a nut, although, never has it been free-handed.
With a swift motion, Sunghoon pulls you off his cock, wiping away the mess around your mouth before offering you his thumb to suck on. "Let it go, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with need.
Despite Sunghoon stopping the abuse of your throat, Jaeyun redoubles his efforts, his tongue working tirelessly to bring you to the peak of pleasure. He can feel your body tensing, the telltale signs of your impending orgasm driving him to push harder. His nose rubs your clit as he works your hips to move faster, each time it hits, your whine out.
The sensations overwhelm you as you teeter on the brink, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. But Sunghoon's soft words and Jaeyun's skilled tongue prove to be too much, and with a final, desperate cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your release washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.
As waves of ecstasy ripple through your body, you cling onto Sunghoon’s waist, gripping so tight that your knuckles turn white. Your muscles contract involuntarily as you ride out the intense pleasure. Sunghoon's grip on your hair tightens as he watches you unravel,  satisfaction evident in his eyes. He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as you come down from your high.
Jaeyun continues to lap at your sensitive folds, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes as he savours the taste of your release. His own arousal pulses through him and as he unlatches his mouth, he groans out, coming undone on his stomach completely hands-free, his cock dancing of its own accord.
You feel some of his cum hit your ass, his load shooting high up his body, causing you to peel away from Sunghoon and turn your head to look. It’s a beautiful sight, the white painting his toned tummy as his dick pulses in the aftermath. 
Sunghoon watches with a smirk, his own arousal fighting against the erotic display before him. As you climb off, he reaches out to stroke Jaeyun's cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Well done, Jaeyun," he murmurs, his voice filled with pride.
As Jaeyun's climax subsides, he sinks into the bed, his cock flushed with exertion. You reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort and affection. The touches from both you and Sunghoon are more than he could ever ask for, the attention and affection he is receiving is beyond his wildest dreams. 
With a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks, Jaeyun turns to you, his voice slightly hoarse from his earlier moans. "Sorry about that," he mumbles, his eyes betraying his embarrassment. "I couldn't help myself."
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. "How about you make it up to her and help me clean her up?" he suggests, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Jaeyun gets up and wipes his tummy with some tissues from the box at the side of your bed before making his way over to you, peeling some more tissues to wipe you down. But Sunghoon stops him, shaking his head.
You watch with curiosity as they exchange silent words, a private conversation unfolding between them. As you lay back, anticipation tingles through your body, wondering what their next move will be.
Their synchronised actions take you by surprise as both boys wear smug smiles, their eyes alight with mischief as they slide down the bed, positioning themselves between your thighs with confident ease.
“What are yo- Oh fuck,” you moan out loudly, legs instinctively spreading wider.
Your breath catches in your throat as their tongues begin to trace hot stripes up the cum-covered folds of your pussy. Their mouths work in perfect harmony, their tongues intertwining in a tantalizing dance, as they meticulously clean you up. Each stroke of their tongues sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for more, lost in the dizzying sensation of their dual ministrations. 
You arch your back, moaning in ecstasy as they skillfully coax another wave of arousal from deep within you. Their combined efforts leave you teetering on the edge of bliss, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their dual assault.
Sunghoon's nose brushes against Jaeyun's as they share a knowing smile, their shared goal evident in the way they work together to pleasure you. Their synchronised movements create a rhythm that mirrors the pounding of your heart, each flick of their tongues sending you soaring higher and higher towards the pinnacle of pleasure.
You don’t know how you got lucky enough to have two eager-to-please dolls swimming around in your cunt, but you need to thank whoever let you be born in this lifetime to experience it.
Unable to hold back any longer, you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, your second orgasm crashing over you. Your cries of rapture fill the room as you ride the pleasure, your body trembling in their grasp as they continue to worship you with their mouths.
So much for cleaning up.
Your chest is tight as you fight for breath, your climax so overwhelming it winded you. Sunghoon notices you struggle and pulls you up from the lying position. “Sit here for me, baby girl,” he whispers, kissing you long enough that some of your essence transfers from his lips to yours.
Reaching over, he picks up the water he brought in earlier, bringing it to your lips. “Drink some. We aren’t done with you yet.”
Your hands tremble slightly as you take the glass from him, grateful for the cool relief it offers. You take a few sips, letting the water soothe your parched throat as you try to steady your breathing. Jaeyun holds the cup with you as he sees you struggle, his touch is gentle as he supports you, his concern evident in the way he watches you with tender eyes.
Once you've had your fill, he sets the glass aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You nod weakly, leaning into his embrace as you take comfort in his warmth. Despite the intensity of your climax, you feel safe and loved in his arms, just as you always do.
“Should we stop? Y/N looks pretty exhausted,” Jaeyun looks to his friend, seeking guidance from him. Jaeyun isn’t one to go rough so he isn’t used to you looking so dishevelled and out of it. 
You’re just glad he didn’t witness you at the merciless hands of Heeseung.
Sunghoon shakes his head, “She’s a tough girl,” he begins, stroking your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch. “Plus, she’s never satisfied until that pretty little cunt is being filled with cock, isn’t that right baby?”  
You feel a blush spread across your cheeks at Sunghoon's words, but you can't deny the truth in them. Despite your exhaustion, there's a part of you that still craves more, that yearns for the feeling of being completely filled and consumed by pleasure.
Nodding slightly, you meet Sunghoon's gaze with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. "Yes," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you, Sunghoon. I want both of you."
Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips possessively. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "We'll take care of you, baby. Just let us know if it's too much."
With a silent understanding of your needs and his concerns lightened slightly thanks to your words, Jaeyun moves to sit beside you, his eyes filled with longing as he watches Sunghoon's hands roam your body. You can feel the heat between the three of you, the anticipation building as you prepare for what's to come next.
“I want you on all fours for me, baby girl,” Sunghoon’s tone is back to his commanding self, taking charge of the situation once he knows you can handle more. 
Jaeyun pouts, looking at him in confusion, “I should get to go first, I’m her boyfriend after all.”
Scoffing, Sunghoon shakes his head definitely, “Not a chance in hell, Jaeyun. You’ve had her for three months, It’s my turn.”
Sunghoon's words hang heavy in the air, a clear declaration of his intent. Jaeyun's expression shifts from confusion to a mix of disappointment and frustration. He opens his mouth to argue, but Sunghoon cuts him off with a stern look.
"No, Jaeyun," Sunghoon says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what's going to fucking happen." That dominating side of Sunghoon still rearing its head when faced with protest
Jaeyun's shoulders tense at the command, a ripple of frustration evident in his expression. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a hint of resignation, a recognition of Sunghoon's authority at this moment. With a heavy sigh, he acquiesces, albeit reluctantly.
You catch the glint of disappointment in Jaeyun's eyes and offer him a reassuring smile. "Your turn will come, baby doll. Just be patient with us," you say, your voice soft and comforting. "Be good for me and Sunghoon, yeah?"
There's a warmth in your tone that Jaeyun finds hard to resist. He nods in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his lingering disappointment.
"Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his words murmuring behind his pout. "I'll be good."
Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, his attention already focused on you. He gestures for you to move into position, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you comply. His stare exudes a desire that sends shivers up the back of your neck, eagerness running through your veins as you prepare to be filled with his cock. 
The familiar ache of longing surges within you as Sunghoon positions himself, the tip of his cock teasingly brushing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation as you await the blissful sensation of being joined with him.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, Sunghoon enters you, his length filling you completely as you gasp in pleasure. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, ignites a fire within you, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your mouth. Your nails dig into the sheets as you arch your back, welcoming him deeper into your warmth.
Sunghoon's movements are controlled yet powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he sets a rhythm that leaves you breathless.
Jaeyun watches with a mixture of longing and admiration, his own desire evident in the way he bites his lip, his gaze fixed on the intimate act before him. Though he may not be participating at this moment, the sight of you and Sunghoon together fills him with a sense of fulfilment and arousal.
He starts to pump his cock slowly, rubbing his thumb over the slit in his bell, pressing down hard as he watches you get railed by the tall doll.
You see Jaeyun struggling, knowing that he wants nothing more than to be inside of you, his hand only giving him some relief but not anything like what he wants. As Sunghoon piledrives into you, balls slapping against your skin and hands gripped tightly into your hips, you place your hand over his cock, replacing his as you kiss his tip, spilling some of your warm spit onto it.
“You’re being so patient, baby doll.” you gasp between thrusts as Sunghoon bucks his hips faster, the bed moving below you and the headboard hitting the wall. You stroke his cock, trying to match the pace that Sunghoon has set. 
Jaeyun leans into your touch, his body trembling with anticipation as he surrenders to the sensations washing over him.  You look so beautiful with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, lost in your own desires while still trying to fulfil his.
“Suck it, baby girl, give your precious puppy the attention he wants,” Sunghoon’s tone is laced with mocking, eluding to the fact that you will always cater to Jaeyun even when he has done nothing to deserve it.
You don’t need to be told twice before your mouth is stuffed with your boyfriend’s length. You slurp him up with ease, the familiar taste of his faux skin making your pussy clench around Sunghoon; the sensation causes his cock to graze your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but moan in pleasure around Jaeyun.
You are so overwhelmed by all the emotions you are experiencing that your body surrenders to them both, letting them have their way with you in any way they please.
For Sunghoon, he relentlessly fucks into you, feeling his entire cock in your stomach. And for Jaeyun, he is holding your head and thrusting into you in time with the other doll, both of their cocks penetrating you so deep you’re sure if this was a hentai, their cocks would be kissing at the midway point.
Jaeyun looks up at Sunghoon and sees how concentrated he looks, his features echoing the power and determination of each thrust. He wonders if Sunghoon is so focused on you that he is forgetting himself in this situation.
Reaching over, Jaeyun cradles Sunghoon’s cheek, dragging him out of his concentration to look at him with bewilderment. But that look doesn’t deter Jaeyun, instead, he brings him closer to him and presses his lips to the shocked raven-haired boy.
As their lips meet in a tender kiss, the room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Sunghoon's initial shock gives way to a sense of warmth and acceptance, his body melting into Jaeyun's embrace as he returns the sweet kiss.
In that moment, all pretence falls away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection between them. It's a gesture of solidarity, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that binds them together, regardless of the circumstances.
As they break apart, their eyes meet, a silent understanding passing between them. Sunghoon's heart swells with gratitude for the newfound sense of closeness blossoming between them. He gets why you dote on Jaeyun so much more than he ever did.
However, with the moment happening above you, you’ve been left to fend for yourself, rocking yourself between impaling on Sunghoon’s cock and deepthroating Jaeyun. You don’t mind putting the work in, especially if it gives Sunghoon and Jaeyun a chance to at least start to understand that sharing you could also open the possibility of sharing one another.
You don’t know how their dynamic will blossom but that’s part of the fun of it all, it’s something you can all work through together once you figure out a way to get Heeseung’s blessing.
Sunghoon's gaze is filled with admiration as he watches you, his lips curling into a wicked smile at the sight of your desperate efforts to please them both. It's a heady rush, knowing that you're willing to go to such lengths for their pleasure, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.
As you continue to fuck onto him with determination, Sunghoon's hands roam over your body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever it lands. He revels in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, the sensation driving him wild with need.
“Flip over for me, baby girl.” Sunghoon commands, slapping your ass to motion you on your back.
Obliging, you pop off Jaeyun’s cock and roll over, legs spread widely in the air as you pirouette on Sunghoon, his shaft never leaving you. The newfound angle just makes it easier to thrust into you, helping you reach that pinnacle peak of pleasure once again.
Jaeyun watches him take you roughly, too roughly for his taste because he can see the bruises forming over your gorgeous body. Jaeyun's concern for your well-being is evident in his eyes, his brow furrowing with worry as he watches Sunghoon's rough handling. Despite his reservations, he trusts Sunghoon to know your limits better than anyone, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to intervene.
"Sunghoon, please," Jaeyun implores, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Just... take it easy on her."
Sunghoon's laughter fills the room, the sound mixing with the symphony of moans and gasps as he continues to pound into you with relentless force. “Jaeyun, listen to her, she fucking loves it.” He presses down on your stomach hard, feeling himself deep inside you, “Tell him how much you love it.”
“I love it, I love it so much,” you whimper out, body squirming as it becomes overrun with a sudden urge to release, your walls clamping down on Sunghoon. 
Jaeyun's expression softens as he watches the interplay between you and Sunghoon. Despite his lingering concerns, he knows that Sunghoon cares for you deeply, and he can see the mutual trust and understanding that exists between you.
Still, he can't shake the feeling that you could use some extra tenderness and care, especially with the intensity of Sunghoon's actions. With a determined expression, he moves closer to the two of you, his hands gentle as he traces soothing circles over your skin, massaging your skin softly as if to ease the tension and forming bruises on your skin.
It’s all too much, the juxtaposition between gentle and rough is sending your mind into a tizzy and before you know it, you’re coming undone over Sunghoon’s cock. “I’m cumming! I’m fucking cumming!” you exclaim through laboured breaths, gasping out.
“I know you are, baby girl, cum all over my cock like a good girl, show Jaeyun what a good pup looks like.”
Sunghoon's thrusts grow more urgent, his movements fueled by the primal need for release. His guttural moans fill the room, mingling with your own cries of pleasure as you both approach the pinnacle of your passion together.
With a final, desperate thrust, Sunghoon pulls out and releases his load onto your stomach, his essence painting you like a canvas as he marks his territory. There's a possessiveness in his actions, an unspoken claim over you that speaks volumes despite the supposed arrangement of sharing, but he wants Jaeyun to see you covered in his seed, how your body is glistening because of him.
You only add to his ego as you cry out, wishing he was filling you up instead. Your pussy craves cum, it needs to be stuffed and Sunghoon just denied you the simple pleasure. “Please,” you plead, not saying exactly what you want, but rather your actions speak as your fingers scoop some of the cum on your tummy and start to finger it into you.
Jaeyun can hardly tear his eyes away from the erotic scene before him, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watches you, desperate and hungry for more. 
“Come on, give her what she wants, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon begins, moving to the side to let Jaeyun take over, “Fill that pretty pussy up with your cum. Be a good boy.” 
A shiver runs over Jaeyun’s body and his cock leaks at Sunghoon’s words, a desperate whimper escaping his throat as he trembles in anticipation. He’s been watching Sunghoon manhandle you so long that he’s scared about hurting you, your cunt is too sensitive to take him.
Opening your eyes, you see Jaeyun holding his cock with contemplation clouding his eyes. You sit up on your elbows, using whatever energy you have left and tilt your head. “Go as hard or fast as you want, baby doll, I can take it,” you assure him, beckoning him closer for a kiss.
Your words ignite a fire within Jaeyun, his desire overcoming his hesitation as he moves closer to you, his cock throbbing with need. He leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his hands trembling with anticipation as he positions himself between your legs.
With renewed confidence, Jaeyun guides his cock into your heat, his breath catching in his throat as he pushes inside. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock enveloped in the warmth and tightness of your slick walls, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
You moan into his mouth, encouraging him to go harder, faster, as you eagerly welcome him into your depths. Jaeyun's movements become more assertive, his hips rocking against yours with increasing urgency as he strives to give you the pleasure you deserve.
Sunghoon watches with rapt attention, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jaeyun messily bucking his hips into you, still cautious, but going at a speed that is perfect for you both. 
He can see the pleasure written all over your face, your moans filling the room as Jaeyun drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Sunghoon's smirk widens as he takes in the scene before him, revelling in the shared pleasure between you and Jaeyun.
With each thrust, Jaeyun's cock plunges deeper into you, eliciting a chorus of gasps and moans from both of you. Sunghoon's own arousal surges at the sight, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.
For Sunghoon, there's a sense of satisfaction in seeing Jaeyun take control, knowing that he's capable of pleasuring you just as effectively as he can. He understands that Jaeyun likes to be coddled and you also like to coddle him, but in situations like these, your satisfaction is the utmost importance.
If Sunghoon can’t leave with you, he a least wants to make sure you’re being fucked right.
As Jaeyun continues to thrust into you, Sunghoon leans in closer, his voice a low growl of desire. "That's it, Jaeyun. Show her how good you can make her feel," he murmurs, his words fueling Jaeyun's passion even further.
Jaeyun continues to thrust into you with growing confidence and Sunghoon's attention shifts to your stomach, where his cum still glistens on your skin like a badge of ownership. With a hungry look in his eyes, he dips down, his tongue trailing along your abdomen as he licks up his own essence.
You let out a gasp of surprise at the sensation, the warmth of his tongue sending shivers down your spine. Sunghoon's movements are deliberate and sensual, his tongue dancing across your skin as he savours the taste of himself mingled with your arousal still lingering in his mouth.
Jaeyun's thrusts falter for a moment as he watches Sunghoon's intimate ministrations, a flush spreading across his cheeks at the sight. But the sight of you writhing beneath them, lost in pleasure, reignites his passion, and he resumes his rhythm with renewed vigour.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon laps up his cum from your stomach with increasing urgency, each lick more fervent than the last. His movements are messy, driven by the desire to taste every last drop of himself mingled with your sweat and arousal. He's lost in the moment, completely consumed by the act of claiming you in this intimate way.
As he finishes, your stomach now clean, Sunghoon looks up at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes, his desire burning brightly. "Open your mouth," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.
Your mind is hazy, overwhelmed by the sensations and unable to fully process his command. Sensing your confusion, Sunghoon's hand slides down your body, his fingers finding your clit and massaging it with expert precision. Your jaw slackens, a moan escaping your lips as you involuntarily obey his command, your mouth opening in response to the pleasure.
Taking advantage of your open mouth, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to share the mingled tastes of his cum and your arousal. The kiss is deep and demanding, a testament to the intensity of his desire for you.
Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, quickens his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he chases his own release. He groans into your ear, the sound vibrating through your body and heightening your pleasure.
Sunghoon finally pulls back from the kiss, his lips lingering close to yours. "That's it, baby girl," he whispers, his voice a seductive growl. "Take everything we give you."
You nod weakly, your body trembling with anticipation and need. The combined sensations of Jaeyun's cock driving into you and Sunghoon's commanding presence are almost too much to bear. You feel yourself hurtling toward another climax, your body tightening in anticipation.
Sensing your nearing orgasm, Jaeyun adjusts his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Sunghoon, not wanting to miss a moment, resumes his attention on your clit, his fingers working in tandem with Jaeyun's movements.
"Cum for us, Y/N," Sunghoon demands, his voice a low growl. "Show us how much you love being filled."
Your body obeys, your orgasm crashing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You cry out their names, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. Your walls tighten around Jaeyun, triggering his own release as he spills into you with a loud groan.
Sunghoon watches with satisfaction, a proud smirk on his lips as he sees you both reach your peak. "Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers still gently stroking your clit as you come down from your high. "That's exactly what we wanted."
As you tremble in the aftermath of your intense orgasm, Jaeyun's moans in ragged gasps, his release still coursing through him. He slowly pulls out, his cum beginning to seep out of you. Without missing a beat, he uses his fingers to gently push his seed back inside, wanting to ensure you remain filled with him, just like you want.
Sunghoon watches Jaeyun's actions with a pleased smile, appreciating his attentiveness. "Good job, Jaeyun," he praises, his voice low and approving. "Now, go grab the water again. Our girl needs to stay hydrated."
Jaeyun nods, quickly getting up to retrieve the glass of water from the bedside table. As he does, Sunghoon turns his full attention back to you, his touch becoming tender and caring. He gently strokes your hair and brushes a few strands away from your face, his eyes softening with concern.
"How are you feeling, baby girl?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to his earlier intensity.
You manage a weak smile, your body still buzzing from the dual sensations of pleasure and exertion. "I’m...good," you breathe out, leaning into his touch.
Sunghoon's lips curve into a warm smile. "Good girl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just relax. We’ll take care of you." He has always been good at aftercare, even when he was shut off from his emotions, it’s just who he is. He might fuck you within an inch of your life, but he will make sure to revive you after.
Jaeyun returns with the water, handing the glass to Sunghoon who carefully brings it to your lips. "Drink up," he instructs softly, his eyes locked on yours to ensure you’re okay.
You take small sips, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Once you’ve had your fill, Sunghoon sets the glass aside and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as Jaeyun takes a seat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh in a comforting gesture.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice filled with gratitude.
Jaeyun nods, his eyes filled with affection. "Just rest for now. We’ve got you."
You nod, allowing yourself to relax fully between them, feeling safe and cherished. The intensity of the moment has passed, leaving behind a comforting warmth that envelops all three of you. You close your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, knowing that no matter what, they will always be there to care for you.
As long as you can convince a certain Prince of Hell.
_____
Feeling a comforting weight on your chest, you pry your eyes open to find Jaeyun's head nestled there, his legs entwined around your waist. No - Sunghoon’s legs wrapped around you. He lies beneath you, his shoulder supporting your head, his hand reaching around your neck to scratch Jaeyun's hair.
You can’t believe that this is your life right now, that you could truly be this happy every day for the rest of time. The warmth of their bodies, the thump of your heart echoing your happiness, and the tender connection between all three of you feels like a dream you never want to wake from. Every worry and stress melts away, replaced by a profound sense of contentment. In this moment, you know that this is where you belong, wrapped in the embrace of those you love most.
But as nice as this is, as easy as it is to get lost in their embrace, you know there's still one obstacle in your way to achieving this paradise forever.
Heeseung.
If he doesn’t let Sunghoon go, there's no point in getting your hopes up. This bliss you've found yourself in can be ripped away in an instant if he says no. However, you believe you've got an offer he can’t refuse. 
Sunghoon notices you stirring and presses his lips atop your head, kissing your crown tenderly. “Good morning, baby girl,” he whispers with such softness that it almost blends with the morning air.
Jaeyun looks up with his big eyes and smiles, then kisses a heart pattern on your chest, a ritual he has performed countless times since becoming yours. It’s his unique way of saying good morning and expressing his affection.
You kiss Jaeyun first, your lips lingering as you savour the softness of his petal-like lips. In all your life, you don’t think you will ever tire of the way his plump mouth encloses yours, each kiss a reminder of the deep connection you share.
Turning your head slightly, you find Sunghoon's eyes already gazing at you with a mix of adoration and warmth. You lean in and kiss him next, your lips meeting his in a tender embrace. His kiss is different from Jaeyun’s - firmer, yet filled with the same depth of love. Sunghoon's hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as your mouths move in perfect harmony.
“Did you sleep well?” Jaeyun asks, gently rubbing your arm as you pull away from his best friend.
You nod, sitting up between them as you all shuffle to find comfortable positions. Sunghoon keeps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. There's a flicker of hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes as he watches the love of his life being embraced by someone else, a reminder that while sex might be easy to share, morning cuddles and other gestures of affection are something he'll need time to get used to.
“Yeah, it was amazing,” you say, smiling between both of them, grateful for the peaceful slumber and the two men who left you blissfully exhausted.
Jaeyun smiles warmly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “You look so pretty right now,” he whispers, a daily ritual of his to compliment you in the morning, even when your hair is tousled and some mascara smudges remain from the night before.
Kissing your neck, Sunghoon nods in agreement, “Always.”
God, you could get used to this. But to get used to this, you have to have it.
“I’m going to see if Soonyeol wants to make breakfast,” you say, using it as an excuse to leave the bed, knowing you can’t let them catch onto your true intentions. “If you guys stay here, I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”
“We can make yo-”
“No, no. I want to spend some time with her, you know. She’s important to you, and I haven’t spoken to her much,” you interject with a touch of urgency in your voice, masking the true purpose behind your words. It’s a blatant lie, but the underlying intention is genuine; you just won’t act on it at this moment.
Slipping from their grip, you adorn Jaeyun’s t-shirt and Sunghoon's boxers that were hastily discarded last night, tying your hair up, and focus on getting what you want, on what is best for everyone.
_____
Standing apprehensively on the other side of the door, your fist hovers, refusing to knock. The heavy wooden door feels like a barrier not just to Heeseung but to the future you desperately want to secure. Your heart races, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You’re scared, you’ll admit that—no amount of time or mental preparation could make this any less nerve-wracking. Every possible outcome runs through your mind, amplifying your anxiety.
But for Sunghoon, for you and Jaeyun, you’ll suck it up like you always do. You straighten your shoulders and square your jaw, determination settling over your features. Yes, you know what Heeseung can do and what he will ask for, but you can’t let him see any signs of weakness within you.
The sound of your knuckles against the wood echoes in the hallway, and you feel the weight of each passing second. 
“What?” Heeseung's voice pierces through the door, clearly annoyed by the disturbance; you would be too if someone knocked on your door at 6 am, regardless of whether you slept.
Taking a deep breath, you steady your nerves, feeling the weight of your decision. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you nod to yourself, trying to convince the part of you that's crying out, saying this is a bad idea. But determination drives you forward, pushing aside doubts as you prepare to face whatever comes next.
The door creaks slightly as it opens, revealing Heeseung sitting up against the headboard, the sheets tangled around him as though he had a restless night's sleep. The dishevelled state of the room hints that he had company, yet Soonyeol is nowhere in sight; but when he stands up and his naked form reaches your eyes, you can picture everything that went on; or maybe it’s flashbacks to your own rendezvous with the prince. Either way, you feel a rush of heat pooling between your thighs, your pussy weeping instinctively to the raw allure of his present state.
No matter how much you convince yourself that Heeseung has no hold over you anymore, your body proves you to be a liar.
“My pretty girl. Have you come to take me up on the offer finally?” Heeseung's voice carries a hint of amusement as he stares you down, a wicked grin painting his features. Despite the casualness of his words, there's an intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill down your spine. Even as he reaches to grab his boxers, his eyes never leave yours, holding you captive in their dark depths. You're ashamed to admit that your eyes don’t even meet his as you gawk at his delicious length, your body betraying your desire with each passing moment.
Heeseung notices your lustful gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he pumps his cock gently. “So you came for this? I suppose I should have known Jaeyun could never satisfy you,” he says, his voice dripping with smugness as he voices his thoughts. His hand squeezes just before the bell of his cock, emphasising his arousal. “How do you want to take it? On your back or on your knees?”
On your ba-
“No. I didn’t come here for that,” you interject firmly, clamping down on the lascivious thoughts swirling in your head. As easy as it would be to surrender to the temptation, you know in your heart that giving in to him is the last thing you should do, no matter how much your body craves it. You shake off the filth from the crevices of your brain, steeling yourself against the allure of his naked form. The primal urge to submit to him lingers, a constant battle against the rational part of your mind that screams for restraint.
You wonder if it’s a general Prince of Hell thing or a Beelzebub thing that every time you come within 5 feet of him, you’re ready to open every hole you have. The thought makes you shiver, a mix of desire and frustration coursing through your veins as you struggle to maintain control.
Heeseung laughs darkly, withdrawing his hand from his shaft and returning to his original task of putting on his boxers. You feel a twinge of disappointment as he packs away his 7-inch friend, but you’re also relieved that you can now concentrate on the matter you came here for.
“So what did you come here for?” he asks, his voice now void of the earlier taunts, as he walks around the end of his bed to stand a meter from you. His demeanour shifts, becoming more attentive and serious, knowing that this is probably worth his time.
“I have a counteroffer,” you proclaim, the tremble in your voice betraying the weight of your proposition.
Heeseung smirks, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh? And what’s that, baby?”
“I want you to let Sunghoon leave with me and Jaeyun today,” you declare, the words hanging in the air as you wait for his response, your heart pounding in your chest.
Heeseung's smirk widens into a mocking laugh, disbelief evident in his expression. The sound echoes in the room, taunting you as if your request is nothing more than a joke. His amusement seems to fill the space, making the air feel heavier with each passing moment.
But you stand your ground, refusing to back down despite his dismissive reaction. Every fibre of your being is focused on this moment, on this plea that could change everything. Though uncertainty gnaws at you, you push it aside, determined to see this through. 
"I'm serious," you insist, your voice firm despite the ripple of anxiety that lingers beneath the surface. Your words twirl in the air, a silent challenge to his disbelief.
Heeseung's laughter fades, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze as he regards you. The intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight, bearing down on you as if searching for any hint of weakness. You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to falter under the pressure.
“I already gave you Jaeyun, baby. I hope you’re not taking my kindness for granted?” Heeseung's voice carries a note of warning, his words a reminder of the favour he believes he's already bestowed upon you.
You feel a chill run down your spine at his tone, a subtle threat lingering in the room. It's a stark reminder of the power he holds over you, a reminder that even in this moment of negotiation, you are still at his mercy.
Clearing your throat, you nod, meeting Heeseung's gaze with sincerity. “I don’t take it for granted,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves, “You know I appreciate it.” 
It can never hurt to suck up to a demon and agree with him when you need something from him.
Sucking his teeth, Heeseung hums in acknowledgement of your statement, clearly satisfied with your rebuttal. It's a small concession, but it feels like a victory nonetheless. You exhale slowly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, but it only lasts a moment because his eyes are back to swirling that red ocean in his stare. He knows now that you didn’t come here empty-handed.
However, before he asks you the inevitable question, he wants to settle his curiosity. “Why Sunghoon when you could stay here and have all of us? You had so much fun here, didn’t you?”
You did, you had the most fun you’ve had your whole life, but that was also when you had no real life back in the city. Now you have Jaeyun with you, and things are different. You wake up happy and you suddenly love the life around you because Jaeyun has a way of painting everything golden even when the skies are grey.
“Because this isn’t about me, this is about Sunghoon,” you admit, sensing Heeseung's curiosity. He gestures for you to explain your thoughts, clearly amused by your confession. “I just think, respectfully to Soonyeol, that he just isn’t… thriving here.”
"You mean because Soonyeol isn't fucking him like a banshee?" Heeseung interjects, his tone laced with sarcasm as he cuts straight to the point.
You flinch at his blunt words, a mixture of shock and discomfort washing over you. Heeseung's crude remark hits a nerve, stirring a mix of emotions within you. 
Sure, that is part of the reasoning in some sense. Sunghoon enjoys having sex, that much is obvious considering he has fucked you in almost every available room in this place, against every nook and cranny he could find, and in every which position he could bend you. Yet, it’s more than that.
He needs to explore his newly found emotions in an environment that will help him express his innermost thoughts and feelings. In this mansion with the same people and the same routine, it can be damaging to some people, and clearly, it is to him. He’s also incredibly lonely, and in a house with three other bodies shouldn’t be the case.
Heeseung’s sigh draws your attention, prompting you to lift your eyes to meet his. “Tell me something, and please, for the love of Lucifer, engage that stupid little brain of yours for once,” he says with a sly grin, though mock disappointment flickers in his gaze. 
Despite his harshness, you feel yourself strangely pulled to him, a tinge of pleasure building within. You blame Jongseong and his punishments for awakening this new love for degradation. 
“Don’t you think it’s irresponsible to let a demon loose in the wild? He is evil and destructive, I mean, you heard how he defied Dis because he hated being told what to do. What if you suffer the same fate, baby?” He feigns concern, using his warped words to make you think differently about Sunghoon and just be trapped in this house with him. 
You’ve caught onto his game and you refuse to play.
“Sunghoon is dif-”
“Don’t say he is different, Y/N. Every red-horned prick is the same, trust me, I am one,” Heeseung scoffs, his tone filled with bitter amusement at your innocent viewpoint on the matter. “We are monstrous and manipulative, it’s our job, and as far as I know, Sunghoon was one of the best. Did he ever tell you about the time he skinned that poor woman alive? Right down to her bones, and all he was ordered to do was snap her neck.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of Heeseung's revelation. You feel a chill run down your spine at the gruesome image he paints, the reality of Sunghoon's past deeds hitting you like a punch to the gut. 
But you know that whoever that was, wasn’t the Sunghoon you saw last night. He did what he had to in order to survive hell’s grip. You know his past is never going to be pretty, and you understand that. Whatever he’s done, whoever he has hurt, it’s in the past, and he's seeking redemption. And if he can't find it from God, he can get it from you.
Crossing your arms, you shift your body language as you guard yourself from Heeseung’s foul plays. “If he is such a threat to humans and as you call it ‘evil and destructive’, why keep him around Soonyeol?”
Heeseung doesn’t expect you to throw such a question at him, his face falling. “Because I can kill him if I need to and he knows that,” he explains, eyes secretly warning you to not push him too far. “But you, precious little you, you wouldn’t hurt one of my flies, he could take advantage of that.” he feigns sincerity, holding a hand over his nonexistent heart.
He speaks about Sunghoon being a manipulator but you’re staring at the master. Heeseung is using condescending tones and sympathetic body language to get you to trust him, a classic Beelzebub manoeuvre.
Returning to your flat those months ago, the weight of your encounter with Heeseung heavy on your mind, you wasted no time delving into research about the demon. The mere mention of his true name sent chills down your spine, and you were determined to uncover the truth behind his dark reputation.
You learned that Beelzebub is a master manipulator, skilled in the art of gaslighting his victims. He preys on their vulnerabilities, convincing them that his offers are the only solution to their problems. With each twisted lie, he tightens his grip on their minds, rendering them helpless to resist his control.
Your knowledge might not be extensive, but you've gained insight into his tactics, leaving you feeling more prepared to confront him, even if you're relying heavily on feigned confidence. After spending two months in close quarters with him, you've gleaned enough to believe that if anyone can outmanoeuvre this Prince of Hell, it's you.
“You said you don’t break promises,” you assert, redirecting the conversation to the purpose of your visit.
“And what promise have I made to you, baby?” he questions, a smirk playing on his lips.
“None yet, but once I give you something, you have to keep your promise.”
His eyebrow arches in intrigue, his manner shifting as he leans forward, assessing you with renewed interest. “You’re going to have to offer more than just your pretty little pussy for me to grant you Sunghoon.”
Of course, you're aware that indulging his desires likely played a significant role in his decision to allow Jaeyun to accompany you home last time. You understand that it will take something substantial, something unique to you, to strike a deal with him. Sunghoon might not be Soonyeol’s top priority as of late but he still offers her something she needs and Heeseung isn’t going to let that up easily.
“My soul. Take it.”
A heavy silence settles in the air, thick with tension as you lay out your offer. Your gut churns with unease, a nagging sensation urging you to retract your proposition and flee from the impending consequences. Meanwhile, the voice of your beloved Jaeyun echoes in your mind, pleading with you to abandon the deal and escape this precarious situation with a quick "sike," finger-gunning your way out of harm's reach.
Yet, despite the turmoil raging within you, you remain resolute. You've made your decision, and you're determined to see it through, even if it means silencing Jaeyun's protests and disregarding the warnings of your own instincts. It may seem foolish to press forward, but your love for Sunghoon eclipses any doubts or fears.
For you, this is more than just a risky gamble—it's a chance to offer Sunghoon a lifeline, a path to the freedom and happiness he so desperately craves. And if you didn't seize this opportunity, if you didn't at least try to give him a shot at a better life by your side, how could you ever live with yourself?
Heeseung steps forward, his movements sleek and predatory. “You would give me your soul for a demon’s freedom? I know I fucked you good, but I didn’t know I fucked you dumb,” he taunts, his eyes gleaming with a sinister red hue as Beelzebub comes to the forefront.
A chill runs down your spine as he speaks, his mocking tone cutting through the air like a knife. You feel a knot of fear tighten in your chest, but before you can react, he flicks his finger with a casual gesture and the door behind you clicks shut, the sound echoing ominously in the silence of the room. Your heart skips a beat as panic floods your senses, realisation dawning that you're now trapped, alone with a demon whom you’ve just offered your soul.
You’ve had calmer Sundays, that’s for sure.
Your voice quivers slightly as you press forward, determination warring with the creeping sense of dread. "I'm serious. Tell me your terms. Ten years? Twenty? When will you claim it from me if I do this?" you ask, though the strength in your tone wavers as Heeseung looms closer, his presence suffocatingly familiar, much like yesterday.
A sharp, disbelieving laugh escapes Heeseung's lips, shaking his head in amusement. “Baby, you think you have it all figured out,” he mocks, stepping even closer, if that's even possible. Your instinct to create some distance is rendered powerless as you stay transfixed in place, his proximity overwhelming.
His chest presses against yours, the closeness sending a shiver down your spine as if you're seconds away from dancing a lover's tango. “I’ll tell you what will happen, and I’ll let you make the final call, since I’m in a good mood,” he adds, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.
You swallow hard, steeling yourself for whatever he's about to reveal, knowing that your fate - and Sunghoon's - hangs in the balance.
"Here's the deal," Heeseung begins, his tone laced with a predatory edge. "I'll grant Sunghoon his freedom, no strings attached to me or Soonyeol," he begins, his words initially sounding like a lifeline, but the following conditions twist your stomach into knots. "But you surrender yourself to me.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to process the weight of his demand. The tension in the air is palpable, suffocating you as you grapple with the impossible choice before you.
"Good news is, your soul stays in your body, but that body? Oh, Sweetheart, that belongs to me," Heeseung continues, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction.
“But-”
"Don’t fucking interrupt me," he commands, his voice lowering to a menacing octave.
Mumbling a quick apology, you bite down on your lip, forcing yourself to remain silent, lest you incur his wrath further.
Heeseung's terms hang heavy in the air, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. "You do as I say. If I say jump, you ask how high. If I say to kill someone, you do it and thank me for the opportunity. I’m not being cruel, these are my terms for everyone."
That means Soonyeol too. It makes you wonder what on earth he has made her do while she has been under his control. Perhaps that two-month trip was more sadistic than you once thought.
The reality of the situation sinks in, and you realise that agreeing to his terms means surrendering not only your freedom but your very humanity. It's a choice that no amount of love for Sunghoon can make easy.
You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for his response. "How long for?" you inquire, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing deep down that the answer may haunt you for eternity.
"Forever. Even after you die, you’re mine," Heeseung replies, his tone carrying a weight of finality that sends a chill down your spine.
The reality of the situation crashes over you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. The prospect of being forever tethered to Heeseung, subject to his whims and desires for all eternity, fills you with a sense of dread and despair. And yet, despite the overwhelming fear and uncertainty, there's a perverse allure to his offer. The magnetic pull he has on you, the intoxicating blend of danger and desire, whispers seductively in the depths of your mind. It's a dark and twisted fascination, one that you can't seem to shake no matter how hard you try. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you gather your courage and issue your counterproposal, determined to protect the ones you love from the potentially devastating consequences of your agreement. "If I say yes, you need to promise me that whatever you instruct me to do won’t hurt the people I love," you assert, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your request.
The audacity of your bargaining with a Prince of Hell is not lost on you. It's a bold move, one born out of desperation and fueled by a newfound determination to safeguard those closest to your heart. You can't help but marvel at your own bravery, even as uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your resolve, considering the closest you’ve seen to a haggle is two ladies trying to buy a bronze teapot on Bargain Hunt, you’d say this was a little out of your comfort zone.
Heeseung considers your proposal, his gaze flickering as he weighs the implications of your condition. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he pieces your words together, “Oh… Oh, you’re good, baby,” he begins, a chuckle escaping his lips before he continues, “Asking me to not hurt your loved ones so then I can’t touch you or the two Bratz dolls. You are not as dumb as I pegged you to be earlier.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of fear and perverse satisfaction swirling in the pit of your stomach. As he leans closer, his lips dangerously close to yours, “Fucking hell, you turn me on.” You can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline at his words and the realisation that you may have just outmanoeuvred a Prince of Hell. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but at this moment, it feels like the only option you have.
“So deal?”
Jaeyun’s voice floods your ears like a bad case of tinnitus, his shrieks bouncing inside your skull. But he is not here in your presence like last time, he can’t save you from Heeseung this time.
“Deal.”
_____
You walk back into the room to find Jaeyun and Sunghoon sitting on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a heated game on Jaeyun's Switch. Jaeyun's brow is furrowed in concentration, his thumbs moving rapidly across the buttons, while Sunghoon, surprisingly adept for a first-timer, wears a smug grin.
"How are you this good?" Jaeyun mutters, frustration seeping into his voice as Sunghoon wins yet another round.
Sunghoon chuckles, his pride evident. "Beginner's luck, I guess."
Watching them, you feel a warm sense of contentment. You think about what your life will be like with the two of them. There's a simplicity to the way they interact, a normalcy that almost makes you forget the supernatural forces that bind you all together.
Jaeyun, with his easy-going nature and inherent kindness, has always been your rock. His innocence is something you cherish deeply. On the other hand, Sunghoon, with his intensity and passion, brings out a side of you that's fierce and unapologetic. The thought of balancing these two very different but complementary forces fills you with a sense of adventure and anticipation.
Should you tell them that it was Heeseung you spoke with? Sunghoon would surely know you had to make some sacrifice to get Heeseung to agree. Jaeyun doesn't know about Heeseung's true identity or the lengths you went to ensure your collective happiness. The thought of deceiving them, even for their own good, weighs heavily on your conscience.
As you step into the room, they look up, pausing their game. "Where did you go?" Sunghoon asks, his eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. You said you were going to make breakfast with Soonyeol, but you were away for a long time, too long for that matter.
"Just a walk," you replied, climbing into the bed between them. Their warmth enveloped you from both sides, a comforting presence amidst your swirling thoughts. You savored the feeling for a moment, then turned to Sunghoon. "Are you okay with car journeys?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart pounded in your chest.
"I think so," Sunghoon replied, a hint of confusion lacing his voice. "Why?"
"Because it's a long drive back to the city," you said, your voice steady despite the nervous energy bubbling inside you. What if he changed his mind and you’ve just sold your soul to Beelzebub?
Sunghoon's eyes widened as he processed your words. "You mean...?" he trailed off, disbelief and hope mingling in his expression.
You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes. You're coming with us."
Sunghoon's expression morphed into one of pure elation. "How did you...? Did you speak to Heeseung?" His question hung in the air, heavy with implications.
You forced a smile, praying your lie would be convincing. "Actually, I spoke to Soonyeol. But anyway, what matters is that you're coming with us." You deflected any more questions, shaking your head to signal you didn't want to delve into the details.
Sunghoon leaned in and kissed you softly, the affection in his touch making your heart swell. His lips were tender against yours, a stark contrast to the raw intensity you often shared. It amazed you how a demon could feel so deeply that he almost seemed human.
Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, pouted and tossed his controller aside. He scrambled over, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around both of you. "My two favourite people!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he squeezed you both tightly.
You revelled in the embrace, feeling Jaeyun's hug against your side and Sunghoon's steady warmth pressing into you. This moment, this tender connection, was everything you had fought for. 
As you lay there between them, you wondered how your life would change. The future seemed both daunting and exhilarating. You imagined the three of you navigating the complexities of your relationships, finding joy in the simple moments, and facing the inevitable challenges together. Could you balance the love and care they both needed? Would they understand the compromises you had to make to keep you all together?
Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching for yours. "Are you sure you're okay? You really didn’t speak to Heeseung?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His worry is that you did something rash, something to put your life at risk.
You nodded, the sincerity in his gaze making your chest tighten with emotion because you know you're lying to him. “No I didn’t. I just asked Soonyeol to convince him."
Sunghoon's smile widened as he accepts your lie as the truth, and he kissed you again. Jaeyun, not to be outdone, leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. "I'm so glad we're all going back together," he murmured.
The three of you stayed entwined for a while, the silence filled with unspoken promises and the steady rhythm of your breathing. Eventually, Sunghoon and Jaeyun begin to get up to start packing, leaving you to your thoughts.
Your life was about to become a whirlwind of new experiences, challenges, and unknowns. Yet, despite the looming uncertainty, a thrill of excitement coursed through you. Your life was about to become a living hell, but as you watched the two boys move around the room, your heart swelled with a sense of anticipation. 
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
Maybe, just maybe, it was a hell worth living for.
1K notes · View notes
anisespice · 4 months
Text
“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 4
Tumblr media
one || two || three
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 
pairing: seijoh4 x gn!reader [ oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, maki ]
warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, the word “dick” said over a million times lol this chapter is basically bigdick!4 supremacy, corny behavior, camboy!maki, slight mentions of degradation, iwa’s is the shortest (I’M SORRY), some minor errors probably and i think that’s it :] !!
notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT :'))) life was kicking my ass and the last thing i could think about was getting metaphorically dicked down lol but hope you enjoy, thank y'all so much for your patience, and the last couple parts coming soon!
tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen , @tsukiran
Tumblr media
OIKAWA would be the reason the list even exists, let’s be honest. 
But, for the sake of the plot, we’ll pretend otherwise.
Once again, without fail, after another grand win for the great king, he’s swarmed by his devoted groupies—Shoving their phones, gifts, and themselves in his face hoping to catch even a sliver of his attention.
And once again, you stood on the sidelines, impatiently waiting for him to leave the spotlight; irked your soul sometimes.
It’s not that you were against him being praised or anything, even though his head was fat enough to begin with, you loved the admiration people had for him. But there’s a fine line between being a fan and being a straight-up weirdo. 
And right now, they’re tap-dancing on that line something fierce. 
“Tooru!~ will you sign right here?” 
One pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing more of her breasts that were pushed up damn-near to her chin whilst wearing a sultry smile. You caught a small glimpse of panic flash across his features before he covered it with a nervous laugh, eyes subtly shifting over to you as he replied. “..How 'bout a photo instead?” 
Things went on like that for the next few minutes. Someone would even take it a step further by flat out asking for his number, or if he was single. They already knew the answer to that, it was the same every time, yet they continuously tried their luck as if someday, through the power of delusion and manifestation, his answer would miraculously change despite you always attending his practices and his games, wearing his spare jersey, holding his hand, shoving your tongue down his throat, didn’t matter—Them hoes were relentless.
But, so were you. 
“Oh, Tooru!~ If you don’t wrap this up, you’ll be walking home!~” You sang, mirroring the tone of the girl from earlier. The semi-empty threat made the setter perk up like a hound, eyes wide as that same panic returned as well.
Although this time, he wasn’t so quick to play it off. 
“U-Uh,” he squeaked, then immediately covered by clearing his throat. “Yes, uh, well, it’s been great chatting with you all tonight. Thank you again for your love and support for the team, it's always appreciated. I hope you’ll continue to cheer us and myself oninthefuture—WAIT! [____]-chan! Don’t leave, y’know my poor legs won’t survive the walk back! Baby, c'mon, wait up!” 
Oikawa whined as he scrambled to catch up to your retreating form, no longer concerned with the crowd of disgruntled faces he left behind as they watched their object of affection slip away yet again. A small part of you wanted to turn back and stick your tongue out at them in petty victory, but you refrained. The sound of their great king pleading for your attention was satisfactory enough.
You barely made it outside before his long arms wrapped around your front, locking you to his chest as he leaned almost his entire weight on you. You could feel his heart thrumming against your head as he panted. Eventually, he huffed, no doubt pouting as he gently swayed you in his arms. “You’re mean.” 
Keeping your gaze forward, you frowned. “And I have the right to be. You said you’d tell some of those ‘fans’ of yours to chill out—it’s getting way out of hand, Tooru. That one girl practically flashed her damn tits at you, and you gawked like a virgin.” 
He chortled, incredulously, “I did not! She caught me off guard..!” 
“And yet, you rewarded her with a photo instead of calling out her inappropriate behavior. Make it make sense.” 
You attempted to shrug him off only for his hold to tighten, spinning you around to gaze at you with chocolate brown eyes resembling that of a puppy out in the rain—One of the unfair tactics of Tooru Oikawa to get back on your good side. You had full intent of ignoring him, standing your ground…but how could you possibly stay mad at that adorable face? 
Easy. By not looking directly at it. 
“Nuh uh. I don’t think so,” you gently pushed away the setter’s face, earning another whine in protest. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. I’m really upset with you.” 
“Buh I dinit do anyfing,” he said through smooshed lips. 
“And that’s the problem. You need to set boundaries with them, Tooru. Things’ll only continue to get out of hand the longer you enable it. Next thing you know they’re clawing and biting at your flesh so they can take a piece of you home with them under their nails and in their teeth.”
Oikawa grimaced, leaning back. “Ew. Graphic. They’re fans, baby, not rabid animals. I think you may be exaggerating.”
You cocked a brow. “Am I now? Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The team had never seen their captain move so fast in their entire season. This was the first time he’d just straight up avoided his entourage and head straight for the showers after practice, scurrying off like his ass was on fire. Questions would spark around the gym about this drastic shift in behavior.
“What’s his deal?” One player voiced. “Usually he sticks around at least another hour to entertain his cult.”
“Not sure. After our last game, he’s been skittish.” Another replied.
A third jumped in after taking a swig of his water. “Think it’s got something to do with that..thing we saw the other night?”
The small group thought back to when all of their phones went off at the same time, social medias in a frenzy about their very own star player. At first glance, they figured it was just highlights of their game, specifically highlighting Oikawa. But, upon further inspection…it was something else entirely.
'Tooru Oikawa. 6’3ft King of the Court, and also our hearts. Being notoriously known as the campus pretty boy, loved by many and envied by the rest, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to consider him the blueprint—The default setting of everyone’s wet dream. He’s a tall, talented, smooth-talker with playful eyes and a panty-dropping smile, a textbook definition of  ‘Prince Charming’. Everybody and they mama, daddy, even bald-headed granny would kill to jump this man’s bones. Many would see him as the romantic type, but there’s something more…unhinged hidden beneath the pretty-boy persona. After much debate, our beloved setter is to be dubbed a whole SWITCH, no nintendo. At first he’ll play the dominant role, but edge him long enough and you’ll bring the Great King to his knees, quivering, drooling, you name it. He’s shameless. 9.5/10 - half a point deducted for his inferiority/superiority complex. Get some therapy, babe. ♡’
They didn’t think much of it at the time, when it came to their attention whore of a captain, it wasn’t completely unexpected, especially if his groupies had anything to do with it. The players looked at one another, then back at the gaggle of hormones waiting for the brunette in question by the doors. It was unanimous.
“Yep.” “Uh-huh.”
The third player snorts. “‘bout time it sucked to be him for once.”
When Oikawa eventually exited the locker room, he did everything in his power to appear small, tip-toeing across the floor with his head down and shoulders hunched in crouching tiger-like fashion. He would’ve gotten away scott-free…if not for his petty teammates.
“See ya tomorrow, captain!”
It bounced off the gym walls, the setter grimacing as his devoted followers instantly looked in his direction, predatory gazes stunning him like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa shot the players a nasty glare over his shoulder, flipping them off and continuing for the exit. He attempted to stiff-arm his way through the hoard, ducking and dodging their grabby hands and shutting down their…bolder advances.
“Tooru-chan!~ Let me show you what I’m capable of, I’ll have you begging in no time, just say the word!~”
“Unhinged men are so my type—Step on me, spit on me, call me names until I cry, I want it all!~”
“I bet it’s bubblegum pink, right? Does it curve to the left or right?”
Oikawa blanched. “Ladies, please, this is ridiculous! You all know I’m in a relationship with-”
“They don’t have to know.”
One had tried reaching out to touch him, but was quickly thwarted when the setter grabbed her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across—Too far. Everyone came to a hush at the sudden display, cowering slightly at the intensity that pooled in his eyes, dark and cold as he fixed the whole group with a stern expression. You were right (obviously). Things escalated the second they were given an inch, with complete disregard to his boundaries and what you meant to him.
These weren’t fans. Not real ones, at least.
Oikawa deeply exhaled through his nose, calming himself down to keep from saying something he’d regret. Releasing the girl’s wrist, the setter gently moved her out of his personal space, resadjusting his bag and sporting a rather disinterested expression.
“It appears you all have misunderstood your place. I’ll forgive that disgusting comment only once. But, if this obscene, rude, and down right shameful behavior continues, I’ll have no choice but to inform the coach of your harassment and have you banned from future practices and games. Do I make myself clear?”
When you arrived to pick up Oikawa per usual, you were surprised to see that he was already waiting for you, not a single group ie in sight.
Skeptical, you looked around as you approached him, thinking those buzzards were still in listening distance, just waiting to pounce. But, when all you’re welcomed with was a big hug and kiss, you relaxed. Oikawa pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile. He explained everything that had happened, rubbing his the back of his neck in embarrassment. When he finished, he looked down at you with those same puppy eyes he gave you the other day.
“Please don’t say I told you so?”
You cooed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair at his nape. He leaned into your touch, content. Until you said, “I told you so.”
He frowned. “You’re MEAN.”
Tumblr media
Once IWAIZUMI learned it involved Oikawa in any way, that’s all he needed to know to have no interest in the list. Sort of like Sakusa, if the topic gets brought up, he finds himself tuning out. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever mess his dumbass best friend got himself involved with. But, unfortunately for him, one doesn’t simply choose to be on the list…the list chooses you.
And one afternoon, the former ace was the unlucky winner.
‘Hajime Iwaizumi. 5’10ft hunk made of pure Husband Material. We’re talking the man who’ll open doors for you, pull out chairs, hold your bags without fuss, give you massages, cook you hearty meals, the whole nine yards. With that information in mind, you can’t tell me he’s not an absolute DOG in the bedroom. I’m talking about a man who’ll bully your insides, manhandle you and call you his “favorite cocksleave” or his “pretty little whore”. He’s the type to say the nastiest shit in your ear and tease you for the cute reactions you’d give him before shoving his tongue down your throat, while his dick kisses your appendix. Definitely a Hard Dom who only rewards good behavior, so if you plan to be a brat to this man—Good luck. But, as soon as he’s fucked that attitude outta you he’s back to being such a sweetheart! So so so attentive, so devoted, and will do anything for you. He’s God’s favorite. 1000000/10.’
“Oh? .. Hey, babe.” You said, curiously. Iwa grunted in response. “You know that list thingy Oikawa-?”
“Nope.” He easily answered, eyes focused ahead and he continued bench pressing the heavy bar.
You slap his chest. “You didn’t even let me finish!” He responded with a playful smirk, making you lightly slap him again.
Straddling his lap while he pumped iron was routine. It consisted of him doing what he does and you keeping him company, soaking up his presence until you inevitably left for your next lecture. Sometimes you kept count for him, other times you’d happily just be a distraction; today you did both.
“Haji,” you whined, wiggling a little. He ignored you on purpose, stubbornly refusing to indulge the topic. But that didn’t deter you from pestering him. “Ha-ji-me!”
“Ba-by-doll,” he echoed, grunting shortly after when he placed the heavy weight back on the rack, finished with the set. Panting, he sat up and readjusted you in his lap, hands resting on your thighs as he finally looked at you, amused at your scowl. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in that shitty list.”
“I’m not…until now.”
“Why?”
Turning your phone screen to show him the updated post, Iwa’s eyes scanned it before his brows furrowed in confusion, then tightened with irritation, jaw clenched and annoyance clear on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to unsee it and merely laying back down on the bench. “Block them.”
You gaped. “What? No way!”
“It’s nothing but perverts with too much time on their hands,” he grunted, lifting up the bar and beginning his set. “It’ll rot your brain. Or what’s left of it, anyways.”
With a dramatic gasp, you retorted with, “Jerk. I’ll retweet and tell them you also love sucking on toes, how ‘bout that?”
Iwa paused mid-push. He eyed you from his laying position, voice dangerously low as he said, “Try it and I’ll bench press you next.”
Tumblr media
“Hm.”
Through squinted eyes, MATTSUN briefly scanned the bright screen of Maki’s phone displaying the updated post that started circulating around their group for the past few minutes. Without much reaction, one would think he was too buzzed to be able to even comprehend it.
But he understood all too well.
‘Issei Matsukawa. 6’2ft lazy ass with a third leg. Doesn’t matter if he looks like he uses 5-and-1 body wash, he smells DELECTABLE. And don’t get me started on the gray, low-hanging joggers he usually wears around campus—He needs to be arrested walking around with a concealed weapon in those sweats—sir, put it in me AWAY. The literal embodiment of “If it slaps his thigh when he walk, I’ll listen when he talk.” The ultimate brat-tamer tbh. You can’t get under his skin, he’s so nonchalant and laid back, your attitude would just be foreplay for him (HIS FREAKY ASS). And if you think he’s already big on soft??? Bitch. Gon head and call outta work for tomorrow. 50/10.’
“Uh..congrats?” Kindaichi gave an awkward thumbs up.
Maki snickered, tongue in cheek. “Yeah, man, how’s it feel being ‘dick of the week’? They’re even givin’ it nicknames ‘nd shit.” He scrolled further into the depths of debauchery. Peering from over his shoulder to see for himself, Kunimi‘s face scrunched in mild disgust.
“Someone called it ‘The Door-Knocker’? Fucking cringe.”
“Fucking retweet.” The strawberry blonde hummed in approval. “Oo, I like this one—‘The Punisher’. That’s badass.”
Yahaba snickered only to then start choking on his drink, snatching Kyotani by the front of his shirt for support as he hacked for air. The wing-spiker merely glared, winding his hand back to beat the shit out of his back. “Ack! Kyo—fuc-! BRO STOP.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re killing me!”
“Same thing,” he grunted.
Mattsun snorted, taking another swig of beer. After skimming through the thread, he lowly drawled out, “Cool, I guess. No big deal.”
He didn’t know much about the list, only that if you ended up on it you were pretty much an ace in the game of dick-slanging. But, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet telling him that he fucks. He had you to attest to all that, and your opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Not that either of you would kiss and tell.
His friends, on the other hand, felt otherwise. As far as they were concerned, Mattsun was a single man. And right now, he was shitting on a blessing sent from the gods. Maki halted his sip to eye his best friend, beer can lowering suspiciously. “No big deal?”
Mattsun shrugged. “t’s what I said.”
Yahaba finally caught his breath, chiming in with a winded, “Yeah right…you’re probably itching to check your DMs. Tell me ‘m wrong.”
“Ok. You’re wrong,” he replied, chugging the remainder of his beer can before crushing it. Yahaba went to argue, but Mattsun cut him off by speaking through a burp. “Don’t got the energy…to entertain someone who just wants my dick.”
“Don’t you mean, ‘Door-knocker’?” Kunimi teased.
“I thought it was ‘The Punisher’..?” Watari asked, uncertain.
“I saw ‘Horse Cock’ on there.” Kindaichi grimaced.
Mattsun shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, ‘m not interested in racking up my body count anytime soon, so those DMs will just go unanswered. Hell, maybe even deleted.”
“Bullshit,” Maki challenged. He points an accusing finger. “There’s another reason. It’s ‘cause you’re already screwing around with someone, aren’t ya?”
A silence fell upon the group, all eyes instantly honing in on the taller male with metaphorical ears raised high in scandalized curiosity, some (read: Kindaichi and Yahaba) more obvious about it than others. Mattsun merely gave a halfhearted shrug, neither denying nor confirming the information. “Aha! See, see, look at ‘em, dodging the question! He’s so cuffed.”
“No shot,” Yahaba deadpanned, “mister ‘Noncommittal’ himself?”
Mattsun glared. “Oi. I commit to stuff.”
“He’s gettin’ defensive.” Kunimi pointed out with a wry grin.
“Must be true, then.” Kyotani nodded, mischievous glint in his eye.
The others hummed in agreement, theorizing about his type in partners and how there could be a potential special someone in their senior’s life, while the bastard behind it all watched smugly on the couch, sipping his drink like a gossiping old biddy. Mattsun squinted in annoyance at his best friend. “Et tu, dumbass?”
Maki raised his hands, “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You basically told on yourself. No guy in their right mind would ever pass up on that many opportunities unless he’s A) Stupid, B) Aro/Ace, or C) Spoken for. Now, my vote’s between A and C, but feel free to update me on your sexual orientation.”
Mattsun flipped him off, sporting a sarcastic expression.
His phone then began to vibrate on the table. As quickly as they looked at the former middle blocker, everyone’s gaze shot toward the offending device, then back on him; expectantly. Despite his calm exterior the brunette felt his heart-rate spike, brow twitching at the childish looks and jeers he started getting, borderline peer-pressuring him to pick it up.
After a few seconds of continuous ringing, Kunimi huffed in mild annoyance for him to, “Answer it, already.”
Maki added fuel to fire by saying, “Unless you want one of us to answer for you-” Mattsun snatched the phone off the table.
With the grace of a gorilla, he stood from the couch and quickly shuffled to the corner of the room. Answering it, he cleared his throat, face flushing at the chorus of snickers coming from behind him as he greeted you with a simple, but elated, “Hey.”
“Hey, ‘sei!”
“Hey,” he said again, breathing out a small chuckle. “Can’t sleep?”
You responded with your own chuckle. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe…ride around with me? I’m thinking McDonald’s. Oo! Or that wing place by campus, y’know, the one with the teriyaki flavor you liked? I think they don’t close until, like, 2am. Or…was it 1am?”
Mattsun snorted at your rambles, leaning against the wall as he let you continue. Unbeknownst to him, the guys were practically stacked on top of each other, stretching their ears to hear your voice. From what they could pick up, you sounded so upbeat, animated as you spoke. They watched in awe as their senior barely spoke but was engaged in whatever you were saying, nodding along and humming to let you know he was still listening. If he wasn’t faced the other way, they were certain they’d see a smitten expression on his face.
“Mhm.. mhm. Yeah, ‘m sure that squirrel really appreciated you sharing your almonds, baby.”
“BABY???” The group exclaimed.
The brunette jumped slightly, completely forgetting where he was for a moment there. He briefly looked over his shoulder before turning back towards the wall with a groan—Every single one of those bastards were either grinning or gaping in shock. Mattsun cursed under his breath. You made a noise of confusion.
“Are you with the guys? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! We can totally chill another night if you-”
“Nah, was just about to leave. Think I’ve entertained these assholes long enough.” He grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket, but not before thumping Maki on the head; the latter hissed through his teeth in pain as he held the throbbing spot. “Rather be with you anyways. I’ll send the address, lemme know when you’re outside.”
“O-Oh, okay then!” You giggled, flattered. “I’ll see you soon. Love you!”
He turned back to look at the group, smug as they still watched him with disbelief painted on their faces as Mr. Non-committal was ditching them to hang with his commitment. Like he tried to tell them before, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet. He had you, and that’s more than enough.
“Love you too, [_____].” Then, he walks out. Leaving the room in even more chaos compared to when he first answered the phone, immediately on his ass as the scrambled after him for answers.
“[______]?????”
Who would’ve guessed their sweet, beloved volleyball manager from high school was the one getting visits from “The Punisher”.
Tumblr media
Within his inner circle, MAKI is usually overlooked. He’s not popular like Oikawa, nor jacked like Iwa, and he’s doesn’t have the whole ‘sexy aloof’ vibe like Mattsun. He’s just…tall. And funny—The ‘Pete Davidson’ of the group. At least, that’s what your friends called him. Somehow, once again during your outing with them at the mall the topic of your relationship became the focal point of the conversation, stretching their brains for why you were so enamored with a guy like him.
“He gotta be packin’. Like, I’m talking anaconda.”
“Type shit. Y’know what they say about them tall and skinny ones.”
You rolled your eyes, wry smirk spreading across your face as you busied yourself sifting through a clothes rack. The conspiratorial discussion had been going on for the past ten minutes, throwing anything and everything at the wall until something stuck—Meaning, waiting for you to confirm. “[_____]. Be honest. It’s ‘cause of his dick, right?”
A lady standing on the other side of the rack gasped in shock, face twisting up in revulsion as she clutched her purse before stomping away, scandalized. You snorted, peeking over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them while they struggled to suppress their childish merriment at the poor woman’s embarrassment.
“Quit it before they kick us out.” You attempted to sound stern, but there was no hiding your own amusement. One friend playfully nudged you while the other began to snicker. “And no, it’s not because of that. It’s a bonus, though.”
The first gasped, then exclaimed, “So it is big!”
“’m not finna start with you,” you replied looking back at the clothes, pretending not to know them as nearby customers gave the side-eye. Neither one paid any mind as they continued to gossip. “We have this conversation every time we go out. Give it a rest.”
“Not until you tell us what you see in him.”
“I mean, I get it, but then I look at his friends and…” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. You fumbled.”
“I’m not taking that from someone who slept with a door dasher just because they got the restaurant to put extra sauce in your bag.”
The guilty party gaped, “It wasn’t included in their instructions, they were a real one for that!”
“Still don’t know why you did it,” the other friend sighed. “The food was cold, and I’m certain they took some of my fries.”
“Shut up, we’re not talking about my poor life choices, we’re talking about [_____]’s.”
“Fuck you,” you laughed. “You two need to get off my man. You haven’t even properly met him yet. He’s a sweetheart, he treats me like royalty, and I don’t care what y’all say, that man is fine.”
“Please. You’re just dickmatized.”
“Enough about his dick already!”
Your outburst drew the attention of a nearby employee; the store manager. Even though she wore a professional smile, you could see death in her eyes. With a nervous smile, you gave an apologetic wave before quickly grabbing your friends by their arms and escorting yourselves out before you got banned. Your closet was getting full, anyways.
“Look…I know the guys I’ve dated in the past were…questionable. But, I really like this one. And I swear the pictures I showed you don’t do him justice, his goofy ass just never sits still.”
They looked skeptical, having heard that one before. You huffed.
“Alright. How about I invite him over tonight? That way you have a chance to get to know him better. And if you’re still iffy, then…then you’ll have to get over it because you love me dearly and want me to be happy and just because you don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I don’t, he is very gorgeous to me-!”
“[_____], honey, breathe.”
You stopped to inhale, then concluded with a small, “Please?”
They exchanged another look of skepticism, until the second added one condition. “He better not show up empty-handed.”
When the doorbell rang, the mood instantly shifted in the room, your friends going silent and gazes sharp as they looked at your door. Unbeknownst to all of you, on the other side of the door, Maki shivered, confused where that sudden chill came from. You gave them an eager, though strained, smile before scampering over to greet your awaiting guest. Upon opening the door, your smile slowly dropped at the sight of Maki sipping out of a large styrofoam cup with the words 'Big Gulp' written on it, dressed casually in sweats and a beanie, appearing very empty-handed.
After he swallowed, he gave a drawled, "Yo."
Your eye twitched. "Takehiro." He hummed, taking another sip of his drink. "Remember that important thing we discussed over the phone? Literally the only thing I asked you not to be when you got here?"
He thought about it, taking note of the daggers you were shooting at his cup. Maki made a noise of realization. "Oh, right. I bought snacks too, buuut I accidentally ate ‘em all on the way. My bad. But, look," he shook the cup, "technically still not empty-handed."
A small part of you wanted to be mad, frustrated at the least...but there was no hiding the giggle you rewarded him with, of which turned into more giggles. With sigh, you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. "You’re so dumb."
"Missed you, too." He playfully rolled his eyes, returning the hug and craning his neck to kiss your forehead. The two of you stood there for a moment, just basking in each other's warmth. But, the moment was short-lived when he gave a long, exaggerated exhale through his nose before murmuring, "Ready?"
"...No." You groaned.
"Damn, do they bite or something?"
"No, they’re just...unfiltered. I love them, don't get me wrong, but they can work on your nerves to an olympic degree. You'll see once we get inside...They're gonna ask about your dick, by the way. Just ignore it."
Maki snorted, bewildered. "I'll try my best."
"Also...try not to mention that...other thing."
"What other thing?"
"You know," you raised your brows, looking over your shoulder in case they were eavesdropping before softly continuing, "that post."
It took a second, but he eventually caught on to what you meant.
‘Takehiro Hanamaki. 6’0ft shameless manslut (affectionately) who’s taken the campus by storm with his rather...interesting side hobby that pretty much has every student reaching for their wallets and switching to incognito mode on their browsers. Who would’ve guessed that lanky, low-eyed beanpole had the talent to film such erotic content and put a whole industry to shame with just his smartphone and a couple LED lights? After getting past the paywall and binging his videos (for research) it’s safe to say this man is very much a power bottom, maybe even a top depending on his mood, with a fowl mouth that’s not afraid to moan like a porn star. Best $200 I’ve ever spent (FOR RESEARCH). Highly recommend if you’re interested in having the best guided orgasm of your life—Link is in the thread! Get that bag, king. 10/10.’
A shit-eating grin stretched across his face instantly. He bounced his eyebrows, leaning down to teasingly say, "Ohh. That post. What? Don't want 'em to know how I make my living? Or, you scared they'll find out you're my number one supporter, always touching themselves just behind the camera-"
"Hiro!" You hissed, face set ablaze as you looked over your shoulder again, anxious. He found your reaction cute, using the straw in his cup to poke your cheek. You huffed at him. "I don't want them to pry. I doubt they've seen it since they go to a different uni, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"
He easily shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
You exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” You turned to head back inside, knowing your friends were just itching to bombard Maki, however you were stopped when he grabbed your arm.
“But.”
“…But?”
“I’ll let the dick-related questions slide and keep my side hustle under wraps, but you have to do something for me in exchange for my good behavior.”
You tilted your head, nervous. “Like what?”
His grinned mischievously, eyes half-mast as he used his free hand to hold your jaw, making you gasp softly when he tilted your head back. “Instead of being behind the camera in my next video…my number one supporter has to be the star.”
You rapidly blinked, heat traveling throughout your body once you registered his words. Fumbling over your own, you didn’t have time to protest when the door behind you opens wide, revealing your impatient friends. Maki let go of your jaw and settled for wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he waved at them with the hand that still had the large cup in it.
“‘sup.” He flashed them a sly grin. Maki took in their shocked faces, hoping they were a good sign as he introduced himself. “[_____]’s told me a lot about you guys. Hope you didn’t mind me crashing your get together.”
They absolutely did not mind.
You weren’t lying—Those pictures you showed did him dirty. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the uno reverse that was Takehiro Hanamaki. From his lax posture and cozy demeanor, sleepers build and cute smile, it’s no wonder you were drawn to him. Plus he’s funny with a big dick (allegedly)?????
After you composed yourself, still reeling from your conversation earlier, you eventually mustered up a triumphant smile at your friends as they gaped up at Maki, speechless. “So? You guys still think I fumbled?”
Tumblr media
© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
1K notes · View notes
awrkive · 2 months
Text
NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)
Tumblr media
in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out
NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
Tumblr media
You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.
As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.
But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.
There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.
That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.
7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.
You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.
Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.
I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.
Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.
You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.
You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.
Your ID. Funny.
As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.
Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.
And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.
How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?
God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...
Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.
You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.
But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.
It is, to simply put, awkward.
You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.
You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...
It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.
Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.
Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.
"Oh, hi. Good morning—"
You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.
What the fuck.
How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.
"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.
You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.
You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.
That something is apparently sending you a text.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?
The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴
On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.
You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?
And then your phone dings once again.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work
You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.
Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.
Tumblr media
It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.
Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.
"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.
Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."
You pout at that.
"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"
"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"
If only she knew.
You shake your head to her question.
"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.
"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."
Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.
"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.
Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.
Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.
"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.
"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.
She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.
Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.
"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.
"A little." You reply.
Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."
"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.
"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.
"__, can you get this khia away from me?"
You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.
Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.
"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.
Now that makes you squirm.
"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.
Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"
"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.
"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"
You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.
"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.
You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.
"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.
"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.
"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."
"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.
Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."
"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."
You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.
Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.
Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.
"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.
"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."
And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now. 
Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.
"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.
Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.
"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."
You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.
He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.
But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.
Tumblr media
You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we
Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.
But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.
Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.
It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.
You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):
Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?
You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late
You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!
Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.
You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?
You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊
Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.
Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.
You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.
Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.
The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.
Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.
"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.
You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.
You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?
But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.
The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.
You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?
You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.
Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.
He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.
There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.
As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.
That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.
"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.
It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.
You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—
"Oh, I can't do that."
Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.
That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.
Well, that ruins fun.
You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.
Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.
You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.
Tumblr media
There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.
But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.
Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.
A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.
Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly. 
Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.
It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.
You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.
Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.
Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.
But it's ultimately inevitable 
And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.
And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.
You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.
If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?
You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.
But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.
And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.
Absolutely ridiculous.
But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.
It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.
Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.
With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.
You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.
So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.
It's alright. Nothing is going to change—
Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.
Fuck.
"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."
"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."
"Mr. Jeon."
Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.
Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!
Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.
Oh my god. Fuck me.
You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.
But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.
You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.
That makes you roll your eyes.
You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.
A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.
What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.
Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...
You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.
You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.
You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.
But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.
Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.
The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.
You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.
On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today
Tumblr media
You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.
But you know the attempts will be futile.
If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.
Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.
Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.
The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.
With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.
You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.
Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—
And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.
You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.
"Hi."
The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.
"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"
You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.
"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.
He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.
"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."
Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.
He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.
The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.
"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."
You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.
"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"
"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.
Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"
When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."
"This is enough for two?"
He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?
You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"
Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.
"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."
You narrow your eyes at him.
"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."
Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.
"No matter what's on the line?"
"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."
His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.
But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.
"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.
It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.
That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.
"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
"Okay, now you're just making me curious."
"It's nothing."
"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.
He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.
"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.
Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.
When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.
Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.
Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.
Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.
"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."
He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.
"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.
"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.
His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.
You approach his direction to find yourself useful.
"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.
"It's fine."
His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.
Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.
"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...
"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.
"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."
"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."
You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.
"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.
The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.
"Anything is fine."
"Okay."
You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.
Oh. Wow.
He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?
How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.
After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.
You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.
Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.
You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.
"You're still in your work clothes."
You stop.
"Yeah..."
And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.
It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.
You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.
You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.
"So... about your text earlier."
There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.
"Yeah?"
"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.
But Jungkook just nods his head again.
"I see."
He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.
"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."
"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."
You gasp audibly.
So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?
"How did you know that?"
"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."
You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.
Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.
"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.
You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.
Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.
"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."
Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.
"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.
He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"
You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—
"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.
"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.
Wealthy people do have a tiny world.
"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."
It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.
"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.
But he shakes his head instead.
"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."
"In Italy?"
"Yeah."
You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.
You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.
"You're right." You sigh.
Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.
"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.
You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.
Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?
You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.
"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.
You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.
"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.
"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."
"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."
"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."
"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"
"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."
"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"
You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.
"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."
"That's really nice."
And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"
"What?"
"That you know me?"
"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"
"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.
"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.
Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.
"Thanks."
And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.
A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."
Your brows furrow. "When?"
"Uh... earlier this morning."
"Oh. Yeah..."
You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.
But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"
"Why, did you see me there?"
You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.
"No." You lie.
"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."
"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.
"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","
"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.
"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"
Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.
You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.
Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.
"Yeah, it did, actually."
"How did you do it?"
You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."
"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."
"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.
What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.
He's such a fascinating person.
"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.
"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.
"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."
The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.
"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."
"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.
"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."
"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."
You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.
Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.
You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.
"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.
Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.
"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.
"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.
Jungkook stares at you for a bit.
"Why would that weird me out?"
He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.
You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.
"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."
Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"
You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.
"It's bad because..."
"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.
You look away.
"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."
When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.
"Why?"
"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."
Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.
"Your thought process really amazes me."
You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."
"No, it's really... interesting."
He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."
Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.
"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."
You pout. "That's not what I meant."
And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.
Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.
You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.
"No...?"
Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.
"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."
Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.
You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.
With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"
In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?
"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.
"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."
"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."
You send him a suspicious look.
"No, thank you."
"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."
"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.
"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.
"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"
It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.
However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.
But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.
"It's cheaper."
You can't help but raise your brow.
"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"
You shrug.
Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."
Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.
"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"
"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."
You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.
But you nod at Jungkook's words.
Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.
"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.
Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."
You blush at that for no reason.
"Well..."
"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."
"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.
That makes you frown instantly.
"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."
"Hmm."
Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.
He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.
"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."
"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.
"Good."
You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.
Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."
And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.
"S-see you as well."
Tumblr media
"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.
"It's literally just a plain white polo."
"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.
You scoff.
"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."
There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.
"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"
"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."
Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.
"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.
It works every time.
You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."
Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.
You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.
It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.
"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.
Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."
You button your trousers and groan at his words.
"I wish I was also in Italy."
"I mean, you could."
You give him a look.
"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."
Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.
"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."
That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.
"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."
"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.
"Rude!"
Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"
You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."
Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.
"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.
"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.
"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."
Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.
You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.
For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.
You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.
"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."
"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.
"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"
The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.
"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"
The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.
So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.
"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."
"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."
Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.
"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.
"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.
You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.
"It's really nothing big."
Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.
You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.
Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.
"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."
You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.
"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."
Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.
"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."
"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"
"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."
"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.
"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.
Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.
"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.
Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.
"I don't know... we're talking."
Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.
You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.
"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"
You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.
Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.
"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.
"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.
You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.
"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."
You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.
"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"
You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.
You give him a hesitant look.
"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."
Jimin nods, agreeing with you.
"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"
You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.
"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"
He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."
Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."
There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.
Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.
"Hey, __,"
You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."
"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."
Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."
When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.
Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.
"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.
But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.
"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.
"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.
But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.
Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?
"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.
"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.
Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.
As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.
You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."
"When is it coming?"
"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.
"Wait!"
You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"
"I can drive us together there."
"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."
"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"
"No."
Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"
You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.
"Okay, fine. But I owe you."
The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."
He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.
When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.
"Uh...?" You utter.
And then it hits you.
He's trying to open the door for you.
You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.
"This is the driver's seat."
"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.
You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.
So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.
"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."
And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.
Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.
"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.
You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.
"Slept late last night?"
You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."
Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.
You decide to look away for your own sake.
"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."
"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.
If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.
You quirk your head to the side.
"Are you free later for lunch?"
"I can arrange my sched. Why?"
"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.
Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.
"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.
You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"
"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.
"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"
"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."
"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."
You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.
"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.
Jungkook smiles. "Alright."
Tumblr media
You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.
After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.
The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.
When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.
"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.
You look back at him in surprise.
"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.
"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."
You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."
You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.
The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.
When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.
"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.
"I'll have whatever you're having."
You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.
"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.
"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."
It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.
"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.
"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.
Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.
"Done."
You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.
"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.
"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"
You gasp.
"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.
He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.
"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.
You notice he seems to be extra playful today.
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."
"You don't like driving?"
You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."
"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.
"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."
Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."
You almost snap your head to look at him.
"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.
Jungkook nods. "Hm."
"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.
Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.
Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.
"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.
"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.
He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.
You can't help but ask.
"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.
"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."
You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.
"That's sweet."
He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"
"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."
The smile on Jungkook's face falters.
"That... sucks."
"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."
"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."
You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.
All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.
"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.
"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.
You shake your head, smile not going away.
"Nothing!"
Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.
After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.
"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."
He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.
"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."
"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.
When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.
From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.
You glance at Jungkook and snort.
"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.
In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.
"That's Seoul High School?"
You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."
You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.
"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.
"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"
He nods.
"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."
Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."
The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.
You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.
"U-uhm..."
When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.
"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.
The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.
"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.
You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.
"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."
Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.
"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.
Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.
"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.
You look up, baffled. "Huh?"
"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."
You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.
Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."
You don't think you hear his next word right.
"Cute."
Tumblr media
You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.
You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.
Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?
None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.
You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.
And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.
Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.
So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.
It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.
What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)
But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.
"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.
"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.
"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."
You do not, in fact, have enough cash.
You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.
Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?
This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!
"Excuse me, miss,"
Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.
"You can charge her bill here."
At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.
You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.
Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.
"Hi."
"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."
The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.
"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.
Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.
His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.
"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?
You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"
Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.
"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.
He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.
"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."
Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.
"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.
"What?"
"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.
Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."
The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?
Still, you shy away.
"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.
Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.
"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.
You give him a weird look.
"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"
He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.
"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.
"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."
Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."
You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."
"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.
"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."
Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."
"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.
He nods, making your grin wider.
"Sounds fun."
Tumblr media
You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.
Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.
It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.
You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.
"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.
But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.
"Good girl."
And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.
Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.
Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.
"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.
Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.
"Cut them into Julienne slices."
"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.
He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.
"Okay, let me just—"
He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.
You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.
Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.
He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.
"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.
You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.
"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."
Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.
You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.
Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.
You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.
"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.
"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.
"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.
You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know... give up?"
Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.
You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."
You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.
The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.
It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.
"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?
... Which you offered.
That he took willingly.
You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.
"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.
"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.
You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.
"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"
You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.
"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."
"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.
You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.
While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.
Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.
By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.
You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.
Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.
First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.
But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.
It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.
Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.
Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.
From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.
"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.
"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.
You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.
"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."
But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.
"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."
"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."
But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.
Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.
You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.
The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.
Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.
He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.
"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.
You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.
"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.
"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.
"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.
"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?
But your shoulders deflate because he's right.
Still.
Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.
"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."
That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"
You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.
"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.
Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.
Tumblr media
The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.
A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef
You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.
You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept
You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime
You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.
You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??
You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant
You [11:11pm]: sweet
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby
Your lips part.
Okay...
Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?
His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.
You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now
Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.
You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.
It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.
You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴
You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.
You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night
Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx
You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.
The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.
Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.
But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...
"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.
You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.
Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.
You're obviously awful at this.
You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.
But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.
Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.
You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.
Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.
Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.
You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.
"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.
But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.
"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.
Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.
It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.
The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.
"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.
You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.
And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.
Jeon Jungkook.
"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.
Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.
You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.
You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.
Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.
You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.
You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.
And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.
"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.
You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.
Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.
"God, what's wrong with me,"
You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.
This isn't good. You need to think straight.
A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.
You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?
Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.
August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉
"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.
Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.
Tumblr media
PART THREE | ...
Tumblr media
all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3
951 notes · View notes