#I will try though. I will try to chill out

[sweetstrawberryys]

"In the Mirror”

Summary: You're just chilling when Ghost sends you a cryptic message. But no worries, your house is only haunted by one Ghost.

Rating: light teasing, domestic vibes, mild language, Ghost being a menace, a lot of warmth

Masterlist

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You: I just saw your husband.

Ghost: What?

You: I'm not married, where did you see him?

Ghost: In the mirror.

You stared at your phone, blinking once. Twice.

A beat of silence passed. Then—

“Oh, you cheeky little—”

The door creaked open and there he was, all six-foot-something of smug British man wrapped in black joggers and one of your pink sweaters.

Yes. Your pink sweater.

“I stand by my statement,” he said, unrepentant. “Saw your husband just now. Dashing bloke. Strong jaw. Really into this new pink look, too.”

“You’re awful.” You couldn’t help the grin, though, as you tossed a throw pillow at him. “You can’t just text cryptic shit and make me think there’s a ghost in the house.”

“I am the ghost in the house.”

He caught the pillow mid-air, tossing it back with lazy aim. It thudded harmlessly to the side as you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes.

“You scared me for a second, you know?” you said, voice dipping into a soft whine.

Simon’s smirk faltered. Just slightly. Enough for the tender to peek through.

“Didn’t mean to.” He stepped forward, crowding into your space like the possessive bastard he was. “Was just messin’.”

You looked up at him, trying not to melt at how domestic he looked—stubble unshaved, hair mussed from a lazy afternoon nap, your softest sweater stretching across his broad shoulders. It was a rainy Sunday kind of look. A “we’ve been together for years and this is the man I wake up to” kind of look.

And God, he wore it well.

“Well…” you murmured, poking his chest, “next time you want to be weirdly poetic and mysterious, just say you missed me.”

He leaned down, resting his forehead to yours. The grin that ghosted over his lips was softer now, less cocky. The kind he saved for you and you alone.

“I did miss you,” he murmured. “You left me alone with a mirror and too many feelings.”

“Oh no,” you said dramatically. “The horror. Self-reflection.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I looked in the mirror, and there I was. Standing there. In your jumper. In our flat. And I just thought… shit.”

“Shit what?”

“That’s her husband.” His voice dropped lower. “Me. I'm her husband.”

You stared at him, heart going off like fireworks in your chest.

You weren’t married. Not yet.

But sometimes he’d drop little things like that. Like he’d already made up his mind. Like the choice was made the moment you met. You’d learned by now not to tease him for it. Every time you did, he’d retreat into that skull of his. Lock the doors and throw away the key.

So instead, you smiled.

“That mirror’s a smart one,” you whispered.

He kissed you then. Softly. Slowly. Like it was the first kiss all over again. One hand on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist, warm and anchoring.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” you murmured against his lips.

“You left it out,” he whispered back. “Which means you wanted me to wear it.”

You chuckled. “Or I just didn’t fold the laundry.”

“Potato, potato.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time. Slid his tongue between your lips like he was trying to memorize the taste of home. And maybe he was. Maybe that’s what this all was to him.

Because to Ghost home had never really been a place. It was something he built from the pieces he was given. A couch with a sunken cushion. A kettle always warm. Your laugh from the other room. Your toothbrush next to his.

A mirror that, for the first time, reflected back a man who had something to lose. Someone to love. Someone who looked at him and saw husband instead of monster.

“You’re thinking again,” you whispered when you finally broke apart. “I can feel the dramatic brooding radiating off of you.”

He groaned. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Nope.” you reached up to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that haunted head of yours.”

He sighed. Rested his chin atop your head like it was his favorite spot on Earth.

“I was brushing my teeth,” he said slowly. “Saw my reflection. And for the first time, I didn’t flinch.”

You froze, barely breathing.

“I saw a man,” he continued. “Not a mask. Not a monster. Just… a man. In love.”

Your eyes welled instantly. “Simon…”

He pulled back slightly to cup your face in both hands, thumbs brushing under your eyes.

“I’m not good with words. You know that.”

“You’re better than you think,” you whispered.

He huffed a smile. “But what I saw in that mirror—it was the man you see. The one who laughs with you. Holds you at night. The one who tries to remember to put the seat down.”

You laughed wetly.

“So yeah,” he said. “I saw your husband. And it made me want to keep being him.”

“You always were him,” you whispered. “Even before the mirror said so.”

You stood there for a long moment, wrapped up in each other like an old love song. The kind that plays softly in the background while life goes on.

Then, in true Simon Riley fashion—

“You’re still doing the dishes though.”

“Oh my God—”

“You think just because I got sentimental I’m doing the plates? Nah, sweetheart.”

“You said my jumper. This is a pink tax. You owe me.”

“I am your pink tax.”

You threw another pillow at him. He caught it again.

And just like that, the moment shifted—from soft to silly, from heart-clutching to heartwarming. Because love wasn’t always declarations or mirror metaphors.

Sometimes, love was pink jumpers and teasing texts.

Sometimes, love was looking in the mirror and liking what you saw.

Especially when it reminded you of your other half.

---

This was inspired by this post . Thanks for giving permission to use the prompt. Hope you enjoy!

[elleaitch22]

Love on Fire

Chapter 3: Until You Tell Me to Leave

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

A/N: This is the last prewritten chapter! Please live react or drop comments about what you liked or want, it literally means so much to me!!! I hope you love it as much as I do! xx Elle

Warnings: Fertility treatment discussion, mentions of medical procedures

Word Count: 3.6k words

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Paige had just finished a 48 hour shift; Angel, from B day, had gotten food poisoning, and Paie offered to take her spot. It was a relatively chill shift �� only three car accidents, two of which didn’t need crazy extractions.

Even though it was only 7:30, and she was wiped, she took a shower and went over to Azzi’s.

After her long trek of fifteen feet, she was greeted by the smell of freshly baked pastries.

“Honey, I’m home!” She called. She walked to the kitchen and grinned at the sight.

There were plain vanilla cupcakes on the counter, some sort of brownie-chocolate bars cooling on a wire rack, and two different kinds of cinnamon rolls.

“Jesus, Azzi. Are you feeding a homeless shelter?” Paige chuckled.

The brunette’s head shot up. “Fuck. I’m supposed to bring baked goods to the homeless shelter tomorrow.”

“Okay, hold on,” Paige walked up behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders. “You need to breath, Az. You nervous?”

She sighed deeply, “I don’t know. I guess.” She paused, staring at her feet. “I still haven’t told my mom and dad.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell anyone until you’re ready.”

Azzi’s back found Paige’s chest like muscle memory. The scent of shampoo, the rhythm of her breathing—anchoring her. “I just – I feel like I need to tell someone. Like someone who isn’t all the way in it with me like you are.”

At Paige’s nod continued. “Someone who will just be happy for me, not lecture me about everything that could go wrong.” She swallowed, “I don’t even have anyone to talk to about being pregnant. None of our friends even–”

Cool hands on tanned cheeks.

“Azzi, you’re panicking for real now.” Paige’s brows scrunched, like she was worried. “Breathe.”

A deep inhale.

“If you’re still bothered about everything after your appointment, I’m supposed to be going to my dad’s tonight. You can tell them; Katie’s had a kid before. You can talk to her.” The blonde’s tone was gentle, calming to Azzi.

“You don’t think they’re gonna judge me?” Her chin quivered.

Paige bit back a laugh, “These are the same people who didn’t even give me a reaction when I came out.”

“Paige,” Azzi started, spinning to face her, “The closet was made of the clearest glass.” She giggled.

“Yeah, but you know how church people feel about gay people. Do you not remember how much I was panicking? This’ll be the same.” A firm kiss landed on her forehead. “They’re going to be almost as happy as me, I promise.”

Azzi nodded, breathing deeply again. “Okay. I think I’m just freaking out because I’m so worried about this not working.”

“It’s going to work. Maybe not the first or second time, but straight people don’t always get it on the first try. Everything’s going to be fine.” Paige paused. “Go shower and get ready. I’ll get my comfiest sweats, then we can go to your appointment.”

Azzi blinked, turning towards the hall. Paige had no idea what she did to her when she said things like that. No idea how easy it would be to fall.

As Azzi went to the bathroom, Paige went back to her place and grabbed her most worn-in sweatpants and hoodie.

She was proud of herself. She went through that whole conversation lifting Azzi up, trying to comfort her. She didn’t even think about not being able to be the future baby’s other mom.

She could do this. She could keep smiling and comforting Azzi.

She could do it.

And she would.

Because she loved Azzi more than anything in the world.

-----------------------------------

Paige successfully distracted Azzi from her internal panic the entire way to the clinic.

She sang SZA and Drake loudly and very off key, and it dissolved Azzi into giggles for thirty minutes.

But when she checked in, she wanted to vomit. Because what if she was just wasting all her money? What if it didn’t work? What if she was going to be a bad mom?

“Azzi Fuud?” A nurse called, forcing Azzi to end her self-deprecating monologue.

A hand nudged her up, “Come on, Princess.”

After she got back there, everything was a blur. She assumed they took her vitals and took her to a room, but next thing she knew, she was wearing a medical gown.

“Okay, Ms. Fudd,” Dr. Caldwell started as soon as the door was opened. “This should only take about five minutes. I’ll insert the catheter, insert the sperm sample, and you will wait for ten to fifteen minutes before you go. You should have already picked up your progesterone prescription. You’ll take those twice daily for two weeks, then take a pregnancy test between day twelve and day fourteen.”

She gestured for Azzi to lay on the table. The sterile ceiling tile above her had a crack shaped like a heart. She stared at it and tried not to cry.

“You may feel some light cramping.”

A pale hand grasped a tanned one, bringing her out of her trance.

“You got this. Just squeeze my hand if it hurts.” Paige mumbled.

Azzi couldn’t focus on the procedure because of the blonde. The entire time, Paige was in her ear, telling her how strong she was, how amazing she was doing, how perfect her baby would be.

“Okay, that’s it. I’ve set a timer for fifteen minutes, and they you may get dressed and go.” Dr. Caldwell said on the way to the door.

Azzi nodded quietly.

“So, that didn’t seem too bad.” Paige broke the silence. “You didn’t even squeeze my hand once.”

The brunette smiled, “Yeah, I didn’t really feel much. I just have some cramping now.”

Paige’s fingers brushed slow circles across her skin. Azzi knew it didn’t help the cramps. But it helped something else entirely, something deeper and far more dangerous.

“So Test Day is going to be on an A Day, but I can come over before work so you’re not alone.” She continued after Azzi nodded, “And I can help you with your homeless baking today before we go to my dad’s.”

“Oh, God no. It’s supposed to be low stress, and you burn everything, P.” Azzi giggled.

Blue eyes rolled dramatically, “I don’t know why you act like you were any better than me before you went to culinary school.”

“It doesn’t matter! I’ve never burned cup noodles in the microwave!” She laughed, a real one this time. “I wouldn’t mind you keeping me company though.”

A lazy grin spread across Paige’s face. “Perfect. I’ll turn on Grey’s. We don’t have to talk unless you want to either. You’ve been quiet today.”

Azzi frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. It’s a heavy day. I’m just letting you know we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We can just be together.”

This was the reason Azzi stood no chance at not falling deeper in love with Paige through this whole process. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about how perfect she was.

-----------------------------------

Paige and Azzi walked into her dad’s house with their hands full. Azzi had made hamburger and hot dogs buns for the meats and a new apple pie cupcake recipe she was testing for the dessert.

“My pookie’s here!” She heard as she walked in the house.

Drew pulled her into a bear hug as soon as she set the cupcake carrier down. She was always his favorite sister.

“What are you still doing here, Drew Drew?” She started, “Why aren’t you at training camp?”

Drew pulled away and looked down at her with a brow raised. “Azzi, what are you talking about? I got drafted to the Wizards; I’m staying here. And besides, training camp doesn’t start til September.”

Paige nudged him in the back. “Don’t pay attention to her bro, she only pays attention when she’s watching you.”

“Is that my Paigey?” A sing-songy voice called down the hallway.

Katie Bueckers was one of Azzi’s favorite people. She had been since she met her almost twenty years ago. She was like a warm hug, and Azzi never got tired of her.

“Hey Katie.” Paige smiled, walking over to hug her stepmom.

“And ZZ! Paige didn’t tell me you were coming over!” She pulled the brunette into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you, girl!”

Azzi laughed, “I missed you too, Katie. Where’s Bob?”

“Oh, he’s finishing the burgers and chicken. And there’s corn on the grill too, I think.” She gestured to the backyard. “And what did you make, Azzi?”

“Hey!” Paige complained. “I brought some of it in! Why don’t you think I made anything?”

Three pairs of brown eyes darted to the blonde. “Paige, I look up to you for a lot of things, but I will never look up to you for cooking. You can’t cook, sis.”

“I made sourdough hotdog and burger buns. And cupcakes for dessert.” Azzi laughed at the pouty blonde slumped on the couch. She turned to Drew, “How’s Kamari? I haven’t seen her in weeks!”

His eyes widened, “Shit, I gotta go pick her up! She’s doing good though, Azzi. One of her nursing classes is kicking her ass.” He said, scrambling for his keys. “I told her she didn’t have to finish, now that I got drafted, and she threw a book at me.”

“Good.” Paige said, smiling.

Katie looked at him annoyed, “I told you to never say that to her. You deserved it.”

“I was tryna take some stress off her plate!” He exclaimed. “Whatever man, I’ll be back in ten.”

As the front door shut, the back door opened. “Paige!” A gasp. “And Azzi! I’ve missed you girls.” Bob said, carrying in the corn.

He walked over to peck Katie on the lips, and she took the tray. “Go say hi to your baby.”

Bob scooped Paige in a tight hug, “Missed ya, kiddo.”

“Me too, Dad.” Paige hugged back just as tightly.

He rounded the couch to embrace Azzi next, “How’s everything been? It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been by, and you haven’t been at the bakery as much.” Bob said, brows furrowed with concern.

Perfect segway, Azzi thought. “I’m doing alright. I haven’t been at the bakery as much because I’ve been at the doctor more.”

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Katie asked, stepping forward.

“Oh, yes. I’m fine. I just–” She paused. “I wanted to tell you guys something, I just don’t know how you’ll react.”

The crease in between Bob’s brows deepened. “Whatever it is, you have our support, Azzi.”

Tears welled in her big brown eyes. “I – Um, I’m going to have a baby.”

Katie gasped loudly.

“I mean, I don’t know when, but I was inseminated today, and I don’t know. I’m nervous, but I’m hoping soon, I’ll have a baby?” Azzi’s voice lifted at the end.

She was tackled into a hug.

“Aye, aye, aye! Be gentle!” Paige stood quickly. “I told you they’d be happy.” She smiled at Azzi. “She hasn’t told Tim and Katie yet, so don’t go blab it when you’re at the gym.”

Katie leaned back, beaming. “Oh, Azzi. I’m so happy for you girl! Can we tell Drew?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Azzi said, with a matching grin.

Bob’s eyes were filled with tears. “So what does that make us to the baby?”

Azzi’s heart almost exploded. She was so worried about what Bob and Katie would think, even though they had always been nothing but supporting and loving to her.

“Well, I think it would be cool for the baby to have two sets of grandparents, whenever he or she comes.”

Another round of cheers rang out through the living room. It was so loud that nobody heard the front door open again.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Drew questioned.

-----------------------------------

A while later, after food was devoured, Katie and Paige stood side by side at the sink. Katie handed Paige another plate to dry when she finally broke the silence.

“How are you feeling about all this?”

“What do you mean?” Paige evaded the question.

Katie huffed. “You’re not an idiot, Paige. You’ve loved her since you were a kid. Don’t act like this isn’t affecting you.”

“Sometimes I think she already has everything she needs… and I’m just the extra. The afterthought.” The blonde mumbled.

 “Paige, you’ve never been an afterthought in Azzi’s world. You’re the whole goddamn outline.” Her stepmother replied gently.

It was quiet again, just the sound of a sponge and dishcloth sliding across plates.

“I’m happy for her, I really am.” She paused. “But I’m jealous too.”

Katie looked at her quietly. “Jealous of who, Paige?”

The blonde shrugged, “Nobody I guess. I just thought I would be the one doing it with her.”

“But you are,” Katie chuckled.

Paige shook her head, “Yeah, I mean I took her to her appointments and gave her the shot. And I volunteered to do it all with her, like a fucking idiot. The 2 am snack runs, rubbing her feet, all of it. But as her best friend, not as her wife, or even her girlfriend.”

Katie wiped her hands on a cloth and pulled the tall girl into a tight hug. “You can’t help but do all of that for her. You love her.” She paused. “I know it’s going to be frustrating and confusing for your feelings, but I’m always here. Whenever you need, you can always call me.”

“Thanks, Katie.” Paige mumbled into her shoulder.

She pulled away, “Who knows. Maybe this will be what shows you she loves you just as much as you love her.”

Paige rolled her eyes, turning to wipe off the countertops. “I told you she doesn’t love me like that.”

“And I’ve been telling you she’s in love with you since she came out.” Katie sassed.

“Whatever man.” Paige said, cheeks pink.

The two walked out to the living room to the rest of the chaos.

“So, I’ll be Uncle Drew, right? I mean, y’all are practically married anyway.” Drew smirked.

Kamari smacked the back of his head before anyone could respond. “Shut up, Thomas.”

“Thank you, Mari.” Azzi giggled. “If this whole baby thing works out, you can be Auntie Mari if you want.”

Paige came behind her, hands on her shoulders. “I already told you it’s going to work out, Azzi. Maybe not the first time, but eventually.”

Azzi couldn’t let herself fall into all the optimism Paige was putting out. It was honestly possible that IUI wouldn’t even work, and she’d have to do IVF instead.

“Well,” she breathed, “When Baby Fudd comes, you can be Uncle Drew. Bob, Katie, be thinking of names. Grandma and grandpa are boring.”

Paige’s hands stilled on Azzi’s shoulders.

Baby Fudd.

This baby would be a Fudd.

Her breath hitched a bit.

This really wouldn’t be their baby, just Azzi’s.

Baby Fudd.

Paige’s throat tightened.

No part of her name in it. No part of her in it at all.

Baby Fudd.

Paige was a little quieter the rest of the night.

Still throwing in jokes, but not the life of the party.

She was too deep in her head, dreaming about a little Baby Bueckers with big brown eyes and light brown hair.

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It was 4:30 am.

Azzi should have been asleep.

But it was day fourteen.

The day she was supposed to take the test.

She was supposed to wait for Paige. She didn’t promise that she would, but it was kind of understood.

But Paige didn’t get off her shift for another two and a half hours, and Azzi wasn’t sure if she could wait that long.

But if she took the test early, she’d be able to feel her feelings before Paige got here. She could cry in solitude if it was negative, and she could have a sweet treat set up if it was positive.

She rolled out of her bed and padded to her bathroom. Her hands clenched the sink as she stared at her reflection.

She pulled out three boxes.

Clearblue Early Detection. First Response. Early Result. Clearblue Digital.

Three of the best pregnancy tests she could find.

A couple minutes later, all three tests sat on top of their wrappers.

Her leg bounced as she sat on the toilet seat.

She paced the length of the bathroom.

She opened and closed TikTok twice.

Pulled up Paige’s contact.

Swiped out of it and pulled up her messages to Katie.

Then, the timer went off.

One line.

One line.

Not Pregnant.

This was why she needed to test without Paige here.

Her vision was cloudy with tears.

Azzi knew it probably wouldn’t happen the first time, but it didn’t hurt any less.

She slid down the wall and brought her knees close to her chest.

There was nothing to mourn really, just the possibility. The what if. The hope of a little boy with glasses doing a science experiment in the kitchen. Or a little girl with asthma winning math competitions. Azzi pushing her high on the swing so she felt like a superhero.

She wanted it. She wanted it so badly.

And that was why it hurt.

That was why it felt like she was mourning a life.

Because she was. She was mourning a life for herself and her unborn baby.

God, she needed to snap out of it.

It wasn’t like she was ever actually pregnant. She just tried, and it didn’t work.

It was only the first time; she didn’t really need to be like this. Some people try for ten years and still haven’t had any luck, and Azzi was crying after one month.

She cried herself into a nap on the cool tiles of her bathroom floor.

Azzi was so deep in sleep that she didn’t hear her front door open. Or her name being called. Or the heavy footsteps coming to her room.

Paige saw the tests before she saw Azzi. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment.

“Az,” Paige said, rubbing her shoulders.

Brown eyes blinked quickly. “Hey Princess,” She started, kneeling in front of her. “We knew this was a possibility. This doesn’t mean anything.”

Azzi looked up, surprised to see her best friend. “What? What are you doing here?”

“It’s 7:30, Az. I told you I was coming for the test.” She moved closer, foreheads touching.

“I just, I hoped that it would work this time, even though it was only the first time.” Azzi muttered.

Paige nodded, “I know. Me too, but it doesn’t mean anything. We’re just gonna keep going and try again.”

“You don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t want to. Who knows how long it’ll take.” She said sadly.

The blonde lifted her head. “I’ll be here until you tell me to leave, Azzi Fudd. You’re gonna be a mom, I promise.”

“I love you, Paige.”

“I love you too. You’re my favorite person, Azzi Jazlyn.”

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Paige didn’t show it, not in front of Azzi, but she was sad.

She wanted this to work for Azzi. Maybe not with the same desperate ache Azzi carried, but close. Close enough that it twisted in her chest every time she remembered the tests. One line. One line. Not pregnant.

Azzi’s curls tickled her thigh, the brunette resting in her lap while Grey’s Anatomy played on low volume.

“Pick me. Choose me. Love me,” Meredith Grey begged from the screen.

Paige blinked, hard.

God, if that wasn’t poetic.

She just wanted Azzi to love her. The way she loved Azzi. The way Meredith loved Derek. Messy. Loud. All-consuming.

But she swallowed the burn in her throat and reached for something softer instead.

She pictured Azzi round with a baby, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing, radiant and powerful. Relaxed on a big couch, a toddler curled into her side, sleepy and safe. Paige always imagined Azzi with a lot of kids. Three, maybe four. Five if she was lucky.

They’d have Azzi’s eyes — wide, warm, bottomless. One with Paige’s light hair, maybe. Another with Azzi’s perfect curls. A full house. A full life.

It didn’t really matter. Two or ten. Paige just wanted Azzi to have everything she’d ever dreamed of. And she would make sure she got it, even if it broke her heart to do it from the sidelines.

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Azzi wasn’t faring much better.

She hadn’t said anything since the test. Hadn’t needed to. Her body still leaned into Paige’s, legs tangled under the blanket, thumb grazing the seam of Paige’s hoodie absentmindedly.

She was picturing a different house.

Big and quiet and loud all at once. A wide, flat yard. A basketball hoop in the driveway. A pool for cannonballs. Kids — boys, girls, wild curls and bunny teeth — chasing each other while Paige grilled or fell asleep in a lawn chair with a popsicle stick in one hand and a baby in the other.

She imagined Paige walking in from a shift, sweaty and grinning, pulling her into a kiss while she pulled cookies from the oven. A kid groaning, “Ew, gross,” in the background.

She imagined Paige holding her in the middle of it all, chaos whirling around them, and the feeling of being perfectly still. Perfectly home.

It was loud. And messy. And chaotic. And it was everything Azzi wanted.

She closed her eyes, tuning out Meredith and Derek’s drama, and let the image root itself inside her like a prayer.

They’d get there. She’d try again. And again. As many times as it took. As long as Paige wanted that future with her.

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; semi-explicit smut that's not too smutty (m&f oral, condom talk, unprotected sex) (18+)

Word count: 21.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: Wrapping up this feel-good series! I'd hoped to gush about these episodes with you guys weekly but it is what it is, and I'm just happy for the people who tuned in and have and will enjoy this. I hope this story and these characters gave you a bit of joy.

Your eyes dart to the time on your laptop screen.

2:52 PM.

Jungkook will be arriving at your apartment soon for your scheduled 3PM drive to Busan but your meeting with your manager doesn’t seem like it’ll end in the next eight minutes. 

It’s Friday, and though you’re glad that she allowed you to adjust your hours today, you also wish she’d stick to the agenda and not add items to it because now, she’s briefing you about a new research proposal when you should just be talking about the one you’re currently working on.

“Yes, I’ll read more about that. So the one that’s due next week…” you say, trying to bring the conversation back to its original purpose. “I worked on the budget with the procurement team with regards to the service provider fees. Do you have any comments about it?”

She asks if they’ve been vetted and you answer that you did your due diligence and that the quotes and sample works are in the attachment you sent her. You’re discussing the other line items when Jungkook opens the door - having already memorized your lock code - and you gesture to him that you’re still on a call. 

He gives a thumbs up to say it’s okay, and he gestures to the clothes he’s holding to say that he’ll just change while waiting for you to finish. You nod in response, expecting he’d head to your bathroom, only for him to strip in the middle of your living room, as you can see from your periphery. 

You hold in your surprised look and curse him internally for teasing you like this. 

But not wanting to miss out on the view, you move your laptop towards the right and adjust your seat so you can have a good look at him. You’re met with a muted incredulous laugh followed by a cheeky smile, as he now stands several feet from you in just his black Calvin Klein underwear. 

It’s a shame you’re not close enough to admire every detail of him looking like that, but you have the rest of the weekend to do so. The thought of what the next three days will bring sends chills down your spine.

Your eyes alternate from the screen to your boyfriend, who’s now replaced his running shorts and sports jacket with black trousers, a  loose-fit white tank top, and a blue cardigan. You bite your lip to hold in a smile and your manager fortunately doesn’t notice. 

She finally realizes that it’s past 3PM and apologizes for holding you up, especially since you started the day much earlier than usual just so you can accommodate the four-hour trip you’ll be making. 

“This is great work as always, ___,” she beams. “I’ll let you go now and I’ll see you on Tuesday. Enjoy your cousin’s wedding!”

“Thank you,” you say, bidding her goodbye.

You close your laptop, officially switching off for the weekend, then frown at Jungkook as he walks over to you. 

He chuckles as he bends down to kiss your lips while you remain seated. You give in as you always do, and the groan you’re about to let out is replaced with a moan when he swipes his tongue in your mouth and gently cups your cheek.

He pulls away and boops your nose before standing straight up.

“How rude of you to dress up in front of me like that,” you scowl at him.

“And how naughty of you to watch me while you’re on a call with your manager like that,” he bites back.

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, even as you hug him and immediately fall into his arms. 

“Sorry, just wanted to tease,” he admits. “I know my body drives you crazy.”

You pinch his stomach and pull away.

“Were you ever this cocky?” You chuckle. 

“Nah. It’s a trait I developed just in the last two months. It’s all your fault since you react the way you do,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, we’ve got this weekend.”

“We do,” you say, biting your lip at the anticipation of what’s in store.

Of course, there’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding tomorrow afternoon in Busan and the intimate yacht party right after. There’s also seeing Taehyung who flew back for a few days for the celebration. There’s the luxury hotel with all its fancy amenities that you’ll definitely take advantage of. There’s seeing both your families and meeting them as a couple this time. And then there’s staying over at Jungkook’s house on Sunday. There’s lots to look forward to and you can’t wait to get started. 

“So… am I gonna see you dress up, too?” Jungkook smiles.

“Sucks for you, I’m already wearing this,” you shrug, saying you’d planned on leaving right as he arrived but your meeting extended you so now you really should get going.

He whines only a little then follows you as you walk towards your luggage.

“Do you have everything packed already? Dress, the right underwear, heels, makeup, evening bag?” He asks, making sure you didn’t forget anything or else it’ll ruin your weekend.

“Yup, I’ve got— oh shit, my bathing suits!”

You scurry to your closet and get a few pairs, knowing that Jungkook would want to swim as much as he can. And while you could watch him for hours, joining him wouldn’t be bad.

“Can’t forget those,” he hums. 

Once you’ve got everything packed, you turn towards him to signal that you’re ready, and he heads out your door with you right behind him.

Going on a long drive alone with Jungkook is not a rare thing; it’s something you’ve done a few times just this past year. And so there’s this familiarity you feel - there’s talking about your day, a lot of teasing, smacking his chest, video calling with your friends, and sipping iced coffee and feeding each other the cookies you bought at a drive-thru.  

But there are new things, too, like holding his hand and placing it on your thigh for him to caress. There’s shamelessly ogling him and telling him how handsome he looks in his outfit and him admitting that he wears the tank top because of how much you like it. There’s kissing him when you’re at the stoplight, and him suggesting driving to an emergency stop so he could kiss you back properly.

And then there’s talking about other couple things, like meeting your respective parents as each other’s partners this time. 

You’ve met each other’s families several times before so it’s nothing new. Your parents know him as the athlete and the teacher and the one you describe as everyone’s go-to person. You’re known to his parents by your profession, too, as well as being the clumsy girl who freaks out when holding a knife and often hurts herself.

“Kook, they probably think I’m useless,” you pout. 

“They also know you as the other smart friend,” he says. “They remember that you got an award during graduation. That’s not being useless, babe.”

“Yeah but I mean, you know, domestic stuff,” you say softly. “All I know to do is wash dishes. That’s the only thing I can do when I stay over on Sunday.”

Jungkook understands what you mean and immediately appeases you.

“They’re not of that traditional mindset so you don’t have to worry. My mom’s cooking isn’t the best, too,” he laughs. “My parents just taught me and my brother  how to be independent and then we could look out for those who—”

“Are helpless?”

“Who need a bit more help,” he corrects you. “You’re not even that bad. You know how to feed yourself.”

“Yeah, very basic food that only requires less than five steps to make. Or anything I can cook in the air fryer,” you laugh at yourself mockingly. “I don’t know how to make things fancy or delicious like you.”

“Well, basic things help you survive so that doesn’t make you helpless. Plus, you now have a boyfriend who makes the fancy and delicious food for you,” he winks. “Makes it difficult for you to let go of me, yeah?”

“Hey, I like you either way,” you pout at him. “Though I admit that the cooking skills definitely help.”

“Good. I’ll just keep making delicious things for you, then,” he smiles. 

“You are good at taking care of me,” you nod. “I don’t really know what I—”

“You listen to me,” he interjects before you say what he thinks you’re gonna say, which is that you don’t take care of him the way he does with you.

He could already sense your faraway eyes and knew that your mind would travel elsewhere again, and to places he doesn’t want it to go to. He hopes you never doubt yourself in your relationship because there’s really so much that you do for him, and he’s worried that he doesn’t tell you enough.

“You listen to my worries. You create a space for me to talk about them,” he continues. “And you give good advice. That’s taking care of someone, too, you know? Because if my mind’s a mess, how would I function?”

“That’s true,” you finally smile.

It takes you back to last Saturday and how you both spent the day at your apartment because he didn’t feel like doing much. He talked about an issue he had with a senior teacher and some other concerns about his students. You just listened to him and shared your thoughts while he laid on your lap, and he told you the next day that he felt better. 

Safety, friendship, and intimacy are needs after all, and you suppose they’re what you’re able to give him. 

“I told my parents that I’ve been confiding in you and that it’s been easier to do that since we got together,” he adds, wanting to make sure you don’t feel unworthy when meeting them again. “And they know you watch my students’ matches and they think that’s really sweet.”

“Well, I don’t feel that worried meeting them as your girlfriend anymore,” you giggle, appreciating what he’s doing. 

He’s just always known how you are and how to calm your mind. 

“You shouldn’t. They already like you,” he smiles.

“And my parents already like you, too,” you say. “I’ve told them how you give me massages and piggyback rides and how you cook for me. I mean, not like they have anyone to compare it to but… I guess that says a lot, too, doesn’t it?”

“So does that mean they’ve never met your exes?”

“Just over video call but that doesn’t really count,” you shrug. “There wasn’t really time to see them and I was a bit shy. I’m so babied in my family and they’re also a bit chaotic and I wasn’t ready for my exes to deal with all that.”

“Well, you kinda have no choice but to introduce me now because of the wedding.”

“True. I still would’ve though. But I’m also really excited,” you say as you caress his hand. “They’ll see that I got someone really good.”

“You think they’d expected Tae or Jimin as the friend you’d end up with and not me? They like the guys a lot,” he remarks, remembering your calls to your parents in the past and how they lovingly greeted your friends. 

“Not really. They’re just more familiar with those two,” you explain. “When they’d call me during college and I was crying out of stress, Tae or Jimin would be with me so they knew how much the guys took care of me then.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t there,” Jungkook says regrettably.

“Because you were stressed, too! Just like Mo-eum because you both took difficult courses,” you reason. “You know I’ll always be thankful for how our relationship happened, right? And that includes our friendship. We were there for each other whenever we could.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just… don’t want them to wish it was someone else with you since you’ve got other good guys around you.”

“Well, I’m with you. I don’t think I can have anyone better,” you smile.

You lean over for a kiss on his cheek and this appeases him. 

You’ve already been on a call with your family a few times since you started dating Jungkook, which is about two months ago. It may seem too soon but you don’t recall feeling this kind of joy and desire before. 

Maybe because you let yourself settle into it first for those first few weeks and when you found out he reciprocated your feelings, it was just that natural for the emotions to intensify again. 

Your parents already like him. They think that being a teacher requires a kind of dedication and patience that you need in your life, and you know they’re right. 

But that’s just one part of him. Outside of what he does, he’s kind and tender-hearted and enjoys what life has to offer. It hasn’t been long but you’re already experiencing more of those sides of him as well.

You’re looking forward to seeing them see you with him; you’re certain they’ll see how different it is this time, too.

You get through the four-hour ride with more laughter and stories. There’s silence in between those, too, and neither you nor Jungkook minds. Your voices are just replaced with soft touches and tender smiles and those are enough just the same. 

You finally arrive in the hotel in Busan and make your way to reception to check-in. You meet Jimin and Mo-eum there who have just arrived, and you all leave your things at the concierge so you can proceed to the restaurant for the pre-wedding dinner.

You head to the table where all your friends are and excitedly greet them, hugging Taehyung tightly as you miss him terribly already. 

It’s like you’ve all been spoiled this past year. Jeju wasn’t too long ago and now you're out of town again. It’s different this time because of the purpose of your trip and the fact that you’ll be experiencing luxury this weekend, a far cry from the outdoors and homey vibes of the previous months. 

You get to relax and feel regal, enjoy the amenities, eat fancy food, and savor the view of the ocean from your bedroom. You almost wish you could afford to stay an extra day or so but staying at Jungkook’s family home is definitely the better choice. 

While waiting for Seokjin and Hayoung, you take the time to greet the other guests who made it tonight. Your and Jungkook’s families will be arriving tomorrow before the ceremony so you take him with you when you greet your cousin’s parents. Having known your friend group for years, they tell you how happy they are that you ended up with one of them, too, just like their daughter. 

You return to your seats and enjoy dinner with your friends. The food boasts of familiar flavors presented in new and delicate ways. You have fun with how you eat them and join Jungkook in raving about how delicious it is. You drink champagne and inhale the dessert that when it’s all over, you feel full and satisfied.

“So, jacuzzi in half an hour?” Jimin pitches to the group. 

Taehyung had booked the hot tub for after hours, and the five of you got excited at having the space all to yourselves. The rest of your friends agree to join. Even if they won’t be dipping, they won’t pass up on drinks with a view tonight. It’s literally Seokjin’s and Hayoung’s last hurrah with all of you so they say they’ll follow later on. 

As is the tradition, you book a suite to house the five of you. This time, however, it’s pretty clear who’s sleeping with who. 

You and Jungkook enter the room with the queen-sized bed and you turn to him excitedly. He picks up the hint of desire in your eyes and he pulls you in, his hands on your waist now as he admires how you look in your floral dress.

“What are you thinking tonight, huh?” He smirks.

“Hmm, nothing… Just a big comfy bed, a nice shower, a stunning view… A few things we could enjoy,” you say, playing it coolly.

“Yes… if you’re awake,” he teases. 

“Hey,” you smack his chest. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughs, kissing your cheek. “I’m just saying that I know you’re tired from today. If you fall asleep early, that’s okay. You should get rest because we have a full day tomorrow.”

“I know. I’m actually already sleepy,” you laugh. “But I want to take advantage of this fancy room with you.”

“We will,” he smiles. “Come on, let’s get changed.”

You both put on your swimsuits and head out to the common room. It’s spacious and boasts of a floor-to-ceiling glass window that lets you see the still ocean and city lights from outside. The five of you take a shot of tequila that Jimin brought with him then bring that to the jacuzzi room several floors above.

It’s not the best weather for a hot tub. It’s warm as it normally is for the middle of summer. But there’s something about being in a private area on the 20th floor of a fancy hotel with bottles of champagne and whiskey and plates of food that makes it perfect for tonight. There’s soft music playing and given the size of the tub, everyone decides to join in. Even Yoongi.

From the hot water, to the jets on your legs and back, and to Jungkook massaging your neck and shoulders, you feel totally relaxed. There’s laughter all around, even more when you all rehash memories of Seokjin and Hayoung over the years. 

There’s commentary from all your ends, too, especially from the older ones who’d witnessed their relationship up close. The couple shares their favorite moments from the past six years, too, like when they first said I love you and how they made up after their first big fight.

It reminds you that there’s still a lot to learn even when you’re already in a relationship. It’s something Hayoung has talked to you about, as someone who understands what you’re experiencing. It may seem all good and easy because you think you know the other person so well already after being friends for many years but romantic relationships bring their own challenges; no couple is immune from those. 

But like she said, it’s the strong friendship she has with Seokjin that allowed them to get through them. It’s a good foundation, she told you. Being able to just talk about things openly, being comfortable and honest, and trusting that they want the best for each other have become natural, and those have been their keys to making it work.

They’re good advice, as you think that you and Jungkook are still in the honeymoon stage. One day, you know the hardships will come. Maybe you’ll have to readjust to each other all over again or witness the births of new versions of yourselves, just like he’d told you before. 

But deep inside, they’re challenges you welcome because you know they’ll make you better together and you truly want to make this work, a change that you took note of early on. Plus, you genuinely like Jungkook - not just as your boyfriend or your friend but as a person. You truly admire and think the world of him, so whatever you’ll face, you’d willingly go through them with him, as long as you get to keep him around.  

You don’t think you’d do that just with anybody. 

“You okay, babe?” He nudges your shoulder as he notices you gaze at him again. 

“Yes. Just thinking about how much I like you,” you smile at him.

Jungkook smiles back, as he’s already used to you being like this just two months in. He’s usually a lot more reserved and moderated when it comes to expressing his feelings, as he tends to just feel them, whereas you’re more vocal about yours. 

There have been days when he’d see you stressed or frustrated at work but you’d sit on his lap, hug him, and tell him that having him next to you already makes you feel better. There’s this vulnerability in your honesty, and it’s something he’s witnessing up close. 

While you’ve told him you admire him for just doing whatever he wants, he thinks you’re just as admirable for feeling whatever you want and there’s so much strength in that. He realizes he might not tell you this enough.

“She’s so cheesy, isn’t she?” Jimin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, as the man - who’d heard your little exchange - approaches both of you. 

“She is,” Jungkook hums as he pulls you between his legs and wraps his arms around you. “It’s pretty cute. Was she always like this?”

“Nah. Not in front of us, at least,” Jimin shakes his head. “I guess it makes sense because we weren’t the biggest fans of her exes.”

You laugh at the dig, which you don’t mind; Taehyung and Jimin have valid reasons. 

“Hmm, I don’t think I was this cheesy,” you confirm. “I think I’m like this because Jungkook and I have had conversations before, hoping that the other person would find someone good for them to be with and look, it’s us!”

It’s quite serendipitous in its own way, you think.

The three of you giggle and Jungkook tightens his hold around you.

“I’m glad it was you,” he whispers in your ear,  prompting you to lean against his chest at the feeling of floating because of his words.

“He’s so affectionate, too, huh?” Jimin smirks now. 

“Oh, he is,” you giggle again, as you think back to how tightly he hugs you when you sleep and how he likes to pull you back to him when you wake up. “Has he always been like this?” 

You’ve obviously seen Jungkook with his girlfriends and you don’t recall him being this touchy. You wonder if he’s like that even if he’s just with the guys.

“Not at all, not even with his girlfriend in high school or the one during the summer before college started,” Jimin laughs. “I know he’s clingy behind closed doors though. At least that’s what he says.”

“Oh, he is,” you exclaim, earning you a cheeky laugh from the man in front of you.

The man behind you groans though, but now he wraps his legs around you, too. You feel the giddiness at knowing he doesn’t want to hold back when it comes to his affection towards you. 

Jimin watches his two best friends with such tenderness. He has a different relationship with both of you - he’s gentle with Jungkook whereas he gives you tough love. 

But he knows sincerity when he sees it, and after seeing both of you go through your respective relationships, Jimin can tell that it’s very different this time. You’re both more in control over your feelings even if you don’t hold them back. Perhaps it’s the maturity at this stage in your lives or maybe, it’s really just about finding and choosing to be the right person for each other. 

Your best friend’s eyes glimmer and you see the smile behind them. And cheeky as he may be sometimes, you’re glad he made that comment to you months ago that got you paying attention to your feelings and that ultimately got you Jungkook.

The night goes on with a few more drinks and laughter with your friends. Whenever you and Jungkook separate, there’s always a moment where your eyes meet and you share a smile. There’s that assurance even until now, reminding you of this past year and how you’d be apart and somehow you’d find him looking out for you.

You end before midnight and head to your respective rooms. You and Jungkook take turns washing up in the bathroom and staying in the common area with your friends. With a bit to drink and a long day tomorrow, you all decide to head to bed.

“Goodnight!” Jimin calls out to you. “Don’t break the lamp or something.”

You stick your tongue at him before entering your room. Jungkook pulls you by the waist. He flushes you against his chest and tucks his head in your neck.

“It’s a fair comment, though,” he hums, referring to what Jimin had said. “I mean, you did break my humidifier.”

“Yah!” You smack his arm that’s wrapped around you. “I didn’t break it. It fell.”

“Sure, babe,” he giggles. “It totally fell out of nowhere when it was sitting right in the middle of my bedside table.”

You groan in agreement, conceding now because that may have been what actually happened. It was two weeks ago and Jungkook was yapping about it the next morning while you were on a call with your friends and they pieced things together. They’ve been teasing you ever since. 

“Uh, you were the one shoving your frikkin dick inside me!” You defend, turning around now to face him. 

“Uh, you were the one telling me not to stop,” he counters. 

“You’re annoying when you’re cocky,” you frown at him. “No kisses for you.”

“Hey! I’m just stating facts,” he laughs. 

But you pull away from his hold to tease and lay on your side of the bed. The soft sheets and thick covers instantly make you feel like you’re being swallowed by clouds; you could fall asleep any minute. 

“K,” you hum under your breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sleeping on me?” He gasps. 

“The bed feels so good, Kook,” you moan as you stretch your limbs. “I’m gonna fall asleep soon so get your ass in bed now.”

“So impatient,” he bites back with a smile. 

He removes his shirt then switches off the lamp. Your eyes follow him when he does, and you’re thankful for the sliver of light from outside that allows you to appreciate his body. You’d done that during your time at the hot tub earlier and you think you’ll keep doing that; your reaction will probably be the same every time, too.

He finally lies in bed but you’re the one who sits up now. You take your shirt off, something he’s used to you doing by now, and he returns the fond way you’re looking at him. 

Even when he’s annoyingly cheeky, his body pretty much shuts you up, and he knows this. Your body does the same to him. You laugh in unison because both of you have come to know each other like that.

You bend down to kiss him, not at all able to resist. It’s soft and gentle, as the exhaustion from today continues to weigh you down. But even then, his tongue explores deeper, and you’re hypnotized by the way it does that your body moves on its own. 

You’re on top of him before you know it - your legs on his sides, your one hand softly pulling his hair and the other, grazing his bare chest. And your clothed cunt, rhythmically grinding against his slowly hardening member. His fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving you moaning in his ear. 

And also yawning. You think it’s out of pleasure though.

Jungkook chuckles as you pull away, hovering over him with your dazed eyes. You yawn another time, and your face tenses as you try to hold it in. He can tell there’s more you want to do but he also knows you’re very, very sleepy. 

“Hey, go to sleep now,” he whispers.

“But—”

You’re interrupted by another yawn, causing him to giggle once more. 

“Babe, it’s okay. I want to keep going but I’m sleepy, too,” he assures you. “We’ve had a long day and I’d rather have you awake when we swim in the morning than do anything else tonight. Yeah?”

You pout at him before nodding. You did promise him you’d swim with him in the early hours tomorrow. 

He helps lay you back down and pulls the covers over you. He smiles while watching you slowly retreat into dreamland, soft hums and a small smile escaping you as his fingers continue to trace your body. He briefly cups your breast and he knows you like it. You’ve told him a few times that the drawn out pleasure helps you fall asleep and this is one way he does it without tiring you out further.

He presses soft kisses down your jaw then your neck and your body reacts again. You caress his head as he trails south, and you moan his name. He might’ve gone a bit too far so he goes back up and gives you a final kiss on the lips.

“We’ll sleep now,” he hums.

He lays on his side and pulls you close to him, your back flushed against his chest now and his leg wrapped around you. Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine. 

It’s intimate, and even with your hair all over his face, he likes this because he gets to hold you tight. It also ensures that you don’t hit anything, including his face. 

He laughs at the thought. It’s something he’d gladly get used to though. And he finds that it’s easy - to adjust, to move around and alongside you, and to settle into you even more.

 You wake up to soft kisses on your cheek the next morning. You moan under your breath, wanting more of those but also wishing you have more time to sleep. You knocked out once you closed your eyes last night and you feel like you didn’t move at all.

Which, of course, isn't true. When you open your eyes, you find yourself sprawled in the middle of the bed and the giver of your kisses is standing next to it, chuckling at you. 

“Good morning, princess,” he greets. “Come on, let’s go swimming.”

You look at him with your sleepy eyes and hope for a bit of compassion. Perhaps five minutes more. Or 20. 

And he sees right through you.

“You can sleep longer, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I can go ahead before it gets crowded. Is that okay?”

“No, I told you I’d go with you,” you mumble.

You did say you’d do this with him, especially after he let you drag him to your Pilates session last week. He decided then that he’d definitely stick to the sports he knows and that won’t get his limbs all tangled while hanging in the air. You reason that his body is just a little too fit for the machine and you may be right.

“Okay then,” he says as he changes into his swim shorts. 

“Why do you have so much energy?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs around the bed now. “It’s barely 7:30.”

“I just came from a jog by the beach. The wind was really nice and cool.”

“Oh, good,” you nod, appeased that he gets to do the things he enjoys doing when he’s in his hometown. 

He returns to standing next to the bed and you lift your leg for him to massage. Your legs have been a bit sore after this week’s intense Pilates workout. He starts kneading your calf and it feels so good that you could fall asleep again. 

“Yah! We have to make it to breakfast at 9 before we prepare for the wedding,” he reminds you. “Come on. I’ll be wet and half naked. I know how much you like that.”

You frown at his teasing even if it’s pretty much a given at this point. But he’s started to enjoy it a little bit more after your friends exposed you to him. They shared more details of how you were during your Jeju trip, specifically about your ogling whenever he went swimming. 

It flusters you even if you’re actually able to just admire his body and touch and kiss it whenever you like. Perhaps there are still remnants of disbelief over how you never bothered about it before. Years of going on beach and lake trips, watching him flex his biceps, and commenting on his abs to tease him never made you look twice nor longer than a few seconds.

Now, you can’t get enough of it. 

You curl yourself in bed, urging him to convince you a bit more. 

Instead of kissing you, he starts tickling your foot, causing you to squeal. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you brat!” You groan as you try to kick his hand away and flail your arms while still lying in bed. “You’re gonna regret this.”

Your words don’t have bite in them, but still, he stops and pulls you towards the edge of the bed. He cups your cheeks and peppers your face with soft kisses until you’re finally smiling. 

“Happy?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You giggle and nod.

“So can we go now?”

“Yes,” you playfully roll your eyes then head for the bathroom. 

You change into your swimsuit then you both exit the room. Out in the common area, Jimin and Taehyung are waiting to leave, too. 

“So early and already getting freaky,” your best friend smirks. “Hope you didn’t break anything.”

“He was tickling my foot!” You explain; they definitely heard you squealing. 

“Ooh, he’s relentless with that,” Taehyung shakes his head as he understands your plight. 

He’s been on the receiving end of that, after all. 

You eye your friends who are in their active gear as well. Taehyung will do a morning workout while Jimin is dragging Mo-eum to go for a run.

“Are you sure about that?” You ask your best friend. “You know she’ll stop once she sees a plot of land to find four-leaf clovers.”

“I know, but she promised she'd match my pace,” Jimin shrugs. “She just didn’t wanna be the only one not doing anything physical today.”

“She technically won't be. I mean, I don’t think that watching your boyfriend swim counts as physical,” you hum.

“Are you sure about that?” Jimin cocks his eyebrow. “Your heart rate literally heightens just seeing him in swim shorts.”

Jungkook chuckles because he can attest to that. Sometimes you also just completely zone out. 

You groan because you also agree. You turn to the man next to you with a pout. 

“You’re not good for my health.”

Jungkook just laughs even harder and your friends join him. You do sound ridiculous.

But he thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the world. You already expressed concern about ogling him too much in front of his family, not wanting them to think you’re a little too much for their son, but he assured you that they’d feel proud you think so highly of their genes. 

With you being shameless in front of your friends, he sees even more just how unfiltered and honest you are about your feelings towards him, and it makes him feel really good. 

He pinches your cheeks, endeared by how you look at him, until Mo-eum finally exits the bedroom and you all head out then separate to do your own thing.

You and Jungkook find yourselves on the 7th floor this time to swim in the infinity pool. You stand in awe as you look at the scenery of stunning landscape against tall buildings that line the vast ocean. It’s definitely a lot more urban than Jeju but it offers a different kind of tranquility that you feel you can only get from here. 

You now understand why Jungkook was insistent on swimming despite your tight schedule. It’s truly breathtaking, especially with the clear skies and cool breeze embracing you. He even passed up on sexy time last night just so you wouldn’t be too tired for an early wake up call.

He sighs in relief as he stands next to you, no doubt admiring his surroundings just as you are. 

“Such perfect weather,” he hums as he removes his shirt. “I haven’t had a proper swim outdoors in so long.”

“Well, get going then,” you turn to him, eyeing him up and down while trying your best to keep your cool. “There are barely any people so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Hey, you said you’d join me,” he pouts. 

“And I will, after you do your laps,” you smile, knowing that he needs to do those before doing any leisure swimming. “I’ll have a good view from the lounge chairs here. And then a closer look later on when I’m in there with you. I’ll soak up the sun first before getting in the water. It’s more refreshing that way.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Don’t bail on me, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” you smile. 

“And uh, try not to drool too much.”

He’s running to the one end of the pool before you could respond. But you watch him from a distance exchange words with the lifeguard on duty then turn to your direction to give you a cheeky wink before he dives in the pool. 

Your annoyance at how he’s been enjoying teasing you quickly dies down once you watch him glide in the water. He’s so graceful, as he does butterfly strokes so effortlessly, his broad shoulders and taut arms doing most of the work that you can see, but you know his thighs are working overtime, too. 

Your eyes follow his every move and he’s so captivating like this, especially with the sun glistening on his honeyed skin. You don’t doubt the kind of career he would’ve had if he pursued the sport. You’re sure he would’ve excelled and made it to the national team if he wanted to - he’s just that good, and it’s something that others have said about him, too. 

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him if he went to a different university, and that’s a thought that terrifies you. Maybe you’d still meet him at a chance encounter if the universe willed it, but you think the way you ended up together is exactly how things should’ve happened. 

He returns to where he started and half his body emerges in the water. He turns to you with a smile and a thumbs up. You return the gesture and make a show of cheering for him, earning you a chuckle. 

He does a few laps of freestyle while you settle in the lounge chair. You still have a good view of him but you’re able to do so comfortably now with a little less lust and a lot more admiration. 

By the time he’s doing backstrokes, you’ve moved to the stairs where you’re already in your bathing suit, ready to join him. He swims towards you and walks up the steps, your eyes now following the water that’s dripping down his torso. 

“I didn’t drool,” you tell him proudly. 

He playfully shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Cute,” he hums. 

He reaches out his hand and pulls you towards the water, and once you submerge yourself in it, you moan quietly at how refreshing it feels. You quickly swim towards the other side and lay your arms over the edge to get a better look at the view. 

You sigh in relief at how beautiful it is, even more with Jungkook beside you who has a bit of sparkle in his eyes. He grew up not far from here, and he shared during the drive how his family would often head to Haeundae beach on a weekend. He’d enjoy it despite how busy it could get. This is his childhood, and you’re glad that you get to share in this moment with him.

“You know Kook, I was just thinking earlier that if you chose to do this professionally, you would’ve been such a star, skills-wise and looks-wise,” you say as you turn towards him. 

“Yeah?” He cocks his eyebrow. 

“Totally. And then I imagined you being part of the swim or water polo olympic team and showing up on TV with your wild abs and sweet smile and social media would explode with edits and thirst tweets about you and then you’d be invited to variety shows and be on magazines and get endorsements,” you ramble. “Imagine if you decided to pursue that now? I’d be the kind of girlfriend who’d be cheering so loudly during your matches and maybe trash talking your opponents.”

He laughs at the last sentence but he thinks you’re not wrong. 

“I think you’ll be the type to have a burner account and reply to tweets criticizing me,” he hums.

“Oh, I’d do it on a burner and my personal account,” you state. “Imagine how much I could shut them up?”

“You could,” he laughs. “But they’re also either paid to do that, or are bots and aren’t real people.”

“And then I’d hire hackers to find those shits and message their parents and expose them online,” you continue, disregarding what he said. Your face distorts in anger at the thought that he’d get any hate if he really did pursue a different career path. “I mean, who in their right mind would criticize you?!”

“You’ll never know,” he shrugs. “People always find something to complain about other people they don’t know. But hey, it’s a good thing neither of us have to deal with that, right?”

“True. We live such humble and unproblematic lives away from prying eyes,” you nod. “But… have you ever thought about it? About the kind of life you would’ve lived if you decided to take swimming seriously?”

“Hmm, not really. It’s not like being part of the Olympic team was assured, anyway,” he reasons. “And it just… stopped being a dream. Once I started teaching, I was sure I wasn’t gonna regret doing it. Somehow I just knew that’s what I was meant to do, you know? Plus, it meant going to our university, meeting the friends I’d have for life, and getting together with you. I’d choose those in any lifetime.”

You smile at his words, knowing that it’s not just him being sweet or flattering you; they’re his most sincere thoughts. But you’re glad you made it to the top three things that make his current life worthwhile, knowing that he could be living a totally different one had he chosen to study somewhere else. 

You think it’d still be a good one though - he’d be doing something he loves and he’d be making amazing friends since you think he just naturally attracts good people. Maybe he’d be dating someone who deserves him, too. 

But this is the one he’s living now and considering how much you’re a part of it, you think it’s pretty good. It makes you think of the billion choices a person makes in their life. We never know if they’re right or wrong but we stand by them, and they make us who we are. 

You wonder if you chose to join your sister in her art classes after school instead of reading your textbooks while waiting for her to finish, would you have been less studious? And would that have made you less inclined to be a researcher? Then maybe you wouldn’t be living the life you have now, and there’s a chance you wouldn’t have Jungkook in it, and—

A kiss on your lips disturbs your thoughts, and Jungkook’s soft eyes look back at you when you look at him questioningly.

“Whatever it was you were thinking, just know I’m glad I’m with you the way I am right now,” he says.

He probably already sensed your mind going elsewhere as it always does and instead of asking you where it went, he chooses to assure you about what you mean to him. And it’s exactly what you need.

You hug him in response and ease your mind back into the present with pecks on his cheek. He’s who you should be focusing on right now, so you foolishly suggest a race between you two just for fun even if you know you’re no match for him. You secretly like it when he’s a bit cocky.

Jungkook laughs but agrees to your 20-second early start. He leans his back against the edge, endeared by your movements and the fact that you’re freestyling diagonally, before he starts swimming to eventually beat you. 

You feel like you’ve been at it for so long and you pause, thinking that you’re only a few meters away from the end, only to learn that you’re just past halfway, and Jungkook is already on the other side, laughing at you. 

But instead of teasing even more, he urges you to keep going, cheering you on as if you’re competing at a tournament. So you do. 

You keep swimming that you don’t realize you’re at the end, and you hit your head on the wall because you arrogantly chose not to wear the goggles that Jungkook advised you to use. 

“Oh babe,” he chuckles as he swims towards you, and it’s now you realize that you started swimming sideways somewhere along the way. 

He cradles your head in his arms before turning you to face him. 

“You’re always hitting your head when you’re around me.”

You know he’s alluding to that boat incident in Jeju, something that he occasionally teases you about, especially after you gave him a lowdown of the thoughts that plagued your mind during that afternoon. 

You pout at him in response to his smug face, and he scrunches his nose in endearment. Then he pulls you in a hug and kisses the top of your head that you just hit. He thinks you could’ve gone another few hundred meters, and you’re really not as out of shape the way you say you are. 

The fact that you’re able to swim the entire length of this massive pool already says a lot even if you’re a bit out of breath. He knows you’re neutral about swimming - it doesn’t excite you as much but you don’t mind it. 

Waking up early to join him already makes him feel good, even if he knows you prefer just watching him do his thing, but even that makes him feel hot all over. He’s not sure when he’ll get used to your reactions to him and he’s noticed you try to temper it. He hopes you never do, though, and it’s not for his ego or anything; he just likes being the cause of your intense emotions and desire. 

You and Jungkook spend the next 15 minutes leisurely swimming about before lounging on the chairs to dry up. But then he orders a burger then decides to go for one last lap, with you whining that he’s gonna drip all the way to your room and you don’t have time for him to dry up all over again.

He insists that it’ll be fine, and while he does leave some droplets in the elevators all the way to your bedroom, he manages to not make much of a mess. 

Your friends are back, too, and they’re all taking turns in their shared bathroom to wash up before heading for the breakfast buffet. Jungkook hints at joining you in your shower, but you put up a strong front and say no.

“Kook, the last time we took a bath together, we took up an hour,” you remind him. “It’ll take us longer together than if we did it separately.”

“Well…” he smirks at you, clearly reminiscing about that time and the different ways he took you in the shower.

You were in Gangwon for a field visit one weekend and decided to spend the night, and after telling him, Jungkook took the train to meet you so he could spend it with you. The bathrooms in your apartments aren’t spacious enough for you two, but the one in the hotel you stayed at was. You ended up requesting a late checkout the next day because you took a bath longer than you should have, just like the night before.

Much as the thought excites you - somehow he looks even hotter when he’s wet from a shower - you’ll be pressed for time. You don’t want to end up stressing the rest of the day just because you were horny.

“Tonight,” you promise him as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“And if you’re too tired and end up falling asleep again?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“I won’t!” You try to convince him. “I want to make the most out of our last night here because we are definitely not gonna be able to do as much once we’re at your parents’ house.”

“Well, we could always just book a room in a less fancy place for our last night,” he suggests.

“Kook, your parents invited us. They sounded really excited,” you remind him. 

“They are,” he smiles now. “They asked me for your favorite food yesterday because they were in the market. I said you’re easily satisfied like me. They also cleaned my room and dusted all my awards because they wanted to brag about me to you.”

“Ugh, they’re so cute,” you groan, your cuteness aggression now extending to Jungkook’s parents because they truly are adorable. 

He smiles and kisses your forehead. He knew that suggesting taking a bath together would push it but it was worth a try. He’s not upset one bit; just being with you in his hometown is enough to make him happy. And like you said, there’s always tonight. The last time you and your friends had a night out, you were unable to resist him and ended up confessing your feelings. 

“Go take a shower,” he says now. “I’ll just mentally prepare myself to meet your family again.”

“It’s my nieces and nephews you have to be worried about,” you warn him. “Once they find out what you do for a living, they’re not gonna leave your side.”

Jungkook laughs and says he’ll prepare for that, too. Seokjin had mentioned that not long ago. The kids have grown up and are never out of energy. They recently got into sports, too, and are in that phase where they wanna try and learn everything. It’s good for their development for sure, but that just means constantly asking your family and extended family members to play tag or whatever else their creative minds could think of. 

But he’s ready for that. He’s got your family to impress and an athletic image to uphold. He also just really wants to see you smile because that’s what you do when those kids are happy.

“I’ll make sure to stretch before meeting them, then.”

You giggle before entering the bathroom, knowing that Jungkook doing prep work before meeting your nieces and nephews might be a bit too much. 

You savor your bath time and run today’s schedule in your head for the nth time. It’s all straightforward but you want to make sure you get to properly celebrate with your family and friends. You wipe yourself dry and call out to Jungkook to let him know that he can start in the shower while you do your skincare but you’re left with no response.

You wonder if he’d left the bedroom so you open the door, only to find him doing pushups next to your bed.

“Oh. You were serious…” you say, as your eyes take their time in watching your boyfriend push himself off the floor, with his taut arms and broad back hypnotizing you. 

“It’s the last part of my workout,” he informs you, as he stands up and wiggles his eyebrows at your staring. “I do this all the time. But I did stretch earlier so I’m now physically ready.”

You burst into laughter. “Kook, they may have so much energy but they’re still just kids.”

“You forget that I work with kids. Half an hour with the year ones and I’m already spent,” he reminds you. “Plus, Seokjin told me about that one time he and Hayoung took them to a kid’s cafe and he gave up 15 minutes in. He said they kept going from one game to another and he got so tired that he fell asleep in the sandpit.”

“True. I mean, they’re gonna need a new victim since Seokjin will be busy tonight,” you hum. “You’re actually the one with the most patience.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then. Finish your stretching then take a shower.”

“Will do now,” he says. 

He hums under the gush of water while you fix up at the nearby vanity. He walks over to you soaking wet, and you groan at him for drenching the floor again.

“Just wanted to remind you what you missed out on,” he smirks, as he wipes himself dry beside you. 

“I pride myself in having self-control, excuse you,” you bite back. 

“Alright. Let’s see about that later,” he laughs mockingly before walking out, clearly still teasing you as he doesn’t even wrap himself with the towel. 

It’s just his toned ass and delicious thighs, slowly disappearing from view.

You pout at yourself in the mirror but then again, not like there’s anything to complain about.

He returns to your side in his boxers now and starts putting on moisturizer. Wanting to always hit him back, you remark that the bathrobe is too heavy so you remove it, leaving you the one completely naked this time. 

Jungkook doesn’t react for the first five seconds. But once he finishes putting lotion on his arms, he immediately stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. It’s kisses on your back and torso before you know it, and you squeal in an attempt to reprimand him, but even he knows you’re enjoying it. 

“What’s the point of not taking a shower together if you’re just gonna do this anyway?” You whine.

“The point is that we’re dry.”

“That does not make any sense,” you groan, as you watch him continue to kiss you while you remain unmoving.

You eventually concede though, because anytime Jungkook expresses his desire for you like this, you can’t help but feel warmth. Which is actually quite comforting.

“Okay now I’m starving. For actual food,” he says. “Let’s go!”

Both of you finally get dressed and walk with Jimin, Taehyung, and Mo-eum to the hotel restaurant. The rest of your friends have already taken their seats, so you join them and pick your spots. 

Namjoon and Hoseok apparently worked out this morning, too, and when you ask Yoongi if he’d just gotten out of bed, he nonchalantly says that he and Gyu-rim went for a coffee run earlier. He blinks rapidly right after then quickly looks away before saying that he’ll just get more of the noodle soup at the buffet table. Gyu-rim excuses herself to go to the comfort room and heads the opposite direction.

You and your friends look at them then at each other, curious as to what might’ve happened. 

“Okay, it’s either they confessed during their little coffee date or one of them almost did then chickened out so now it’s awkward,” Jimin suspects. 

“It’s highly likely that’s Yoongi because he only ever gets cold feet when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Hoseok fondly says. 

“What’s there to be nervous about?” You say. “It’s Gyu-rim, she–” 

You pause, as nine pairs of eyes look at you questioningly. You’re unsure if Gyu-rim told anyone else about her feelings for Yoongi and you don’t want to do it for her.

“She’s so chill, you know?” You say instead. “Nothing really fazes her.”

“You can say the same for Yoongi but not when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Seokjin hums. “I mean, I’d know.”

Seokjin would, and that’s either because Yoongi’s his best friend, or he knows exactly what Yoongi’s feeling because it’s probably the same as what he felt. But you don’t push and instead let Namjoon remind everyone to not meddle. It’s always more exciting that way, he reminds you all, even if it could also get frustrating.

You continue with your two plates of food as Yoongi returns followed by Gyu-rim. It’s not long after when Seokjin and Hayoung excuse themselves to start getting ready. Your older friends and Taehyung follow soon after to help them, so you’re left with Jimin, Jungkook, and Mo-eum who continue talking about the other potential relationship in your group.

You watch in entertainment as Jimin and Mo-eum bounce off their observations, and you remark that this is what they were probably doing behind your and Jungkook’s backs. 

“Oh, totally. We’d even do it while you’re in the bathroom or something and then change topics when you return,” Mo-eum hums as she chews on her rice cake. “Like, remember when you were whining the weekend after Jeju because Kook got tasked to chaperone for a school trip so he couldn’t go to your apartment?”

“Oh god,” you shake your head, and you all quickly get into narrating how your respective conversations went.

It’s funny in hindsight, knowing now that Jungkook was missing you the way you were missing him. You still felt upset that time, though, and you don’t want to feel that frustration ever again. 

You finally finish your meal and head to the lobby to meet your family who just arrived from your town in Gwangju. They’ll be checking in early, and you wanted to make sure they were settled first before you started preparing yourself. 

It’s warm greetings when you see your parents and they excitedly hug Jimin and Mo-eum. When it’s Jungkook’s turn, your mother beams even more, and she engulfs him in her arms and sighs, as if in relief.

“Oh, Jungkook. What a lucky woman our daughter is,” she smiles. “We won’t ever have to worry about her starving or not eating delicious food.”

“Ah, well, she’s not hard to please,” Jungkook chuckles, earning him a pout from you. “But I’m… I’m just glad I get to take care of her.”

“What a sweet man,” your mother gushes, and you nudge her and warn not to scare him away. “She needs that. She’s too busy saving the world and has to be reminded to look after herself, too.”

“She does,” Jungkook smiles. “But she’s been doing well in that regard. It helps when you’ve got good people around you.”

“Of course,” your father says now. “You’re all so lucky you have each other. And that both of you ended up together. Seriously, it’s such a relief. You’ll understand it if you become a father - you’re constantly praying that your children find good and responsible partners that they’ll spend their lives with and so there’s this nervousness every time they introduce someone. We’re lucky that her siblings found them and well, you’re the first one that ___ has properly introduced as her boyfriend and we’re just relieved that it’s someone like you. We adore your parents, too, so whew, no in-law drama and–”

“As you can tell, I got the rambling genes from him,” you interject, earning you laughter from your friends, especially Jungkook who scrunches his nose in entertainment. 

“Not obvious at all,” Jungkook chuckles. 

But your father’s smile softens and this means a lot to you, too. Your parents were never the type to pressure you into getting married right away, only because you established early on that your career is very, very important to you. Finding a partner is something that could be delayed, or even given up if it was your choice. 

But it doesn’t mean that they don’t hope that you find someone who would accept you for all that you are, including your dreams for yourself, because they do. It’s something they tell your siblings, which they tell you, so you’re glad you can appease your parents this time.

Jungkook is the type you’d proudly introduce to your family. Even if he can get a bit shy sometimes, like now, as his hand searches yours once they ask him about work and other things. You adore your parents; they could just get a little overwhelming sometimes. You suppose it runs in the blood.

You thumb his hand in assurance, and he seems to calm down a bit once he talks about his students and what he teaches them based on the year level. He also talks about the extra-curricular activities he organizes for the school. It’s something he’s proud about but he doesn’t get to always talk about it this way, so you’re glad he’s able to share this with your parents. You suppose they have more reason to want to get to know him like this and you don’t mind, not when they seem really impressed, too. 

Your chat is interrupted with the front desk staff saying that their rooms are ready and your nieces and nephews entering the lobby after playing in the playground right outside. Your brothers already look tired and it’s not even lunch time. 

You say your goodbyes for now as they head to their rooms and you return to yours. You and Mo-eum hog your bathroom so you both could do your makeup while Jimin and Jungkook play video games outside, even with your constant reminder for them to get ready soon.

You get dressed with Mo-eum in your bedroom then let Jungkook in so he could dress up, too. His breath visibly hitches at the sight of you, and you shyly smile in response. 

But there’s nothing to be nervous about, not when you look the way you do in your sweetheart gown. He’s seen you in formal looks many times before but not like this, and not since he started liking you, which he reminds himself was barely a year ago. There are still so many things that will feel new or different this time around despite having known each other for so long. 

And that includes seeing you look so stunning that he can’t help but sigh in amazement. 

“How do I look?” you ask, turning around to show him the entirety of the dress, which also happens to be low-back.

He doesn’t really have the right words for it, but he takes your hand and kisses it. 

“You look really good,” he says under his breath. 

You settle with a nod, unable to control your smile with how visibly affected he is, especially as he pulls you closer and softly kisses your bare shoulder. That itself leaves goosebumps on your skin; you can’t wait to know how it’ll feel later on.

You turn towards the closet to hand him his clothes this time. You help him when you can, and you learn that Jungkook, too, looks breathtaking in formal wear, especially with his thin necktie and the white dress shirt that beautifully hugs his toned upper body. 

He heads to the bathroom to style his hair while you attempt to put on your heels, and not only are you unsuccessful, you’re also left speechless once Jungkook appears before you. It’s the slightly parted hair, you think. You decide that this slick, confident style is the mature look; you’d take this over his leather jacket any day. 

“How do I look?” He dares ask, as if your ogling doesn’t say enough. 

“Do you want the G-rated answer or the X-rated one?”  

He laughs in response, truly never ready for what you have to say. 

“Hmm, what about you tell me the G-rated version now,” he hums as he bends down to help you buckle your heels, “and then you can show me the X-rated answer tonight?”

“I can do that,” you smirk, slightly lifting your dress to show a bit of leg as he finishes with your shoes. 

He helps you stand up and you fix his necktie before smiling at him.

“You look so handsome, Kook. Seriously. I might have to pull you away from the kids if they hog you later.”

“Hey, I’m gonna need to be in their good graces, too,” he chuckles. “But I’ll just be near you, okay?”

“I was just teasing. I think,” you say. “But hey, it’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding. We have to enjoy it. Don’t worry too much about my family because they already like you.”

“As if you’re not wanting to impress my parents, too,” he teases.

“Oh god yeah. Please make sure I don’t do anything stupid in front of them,” you start to panic. “I might ramble about your amazing genes and how they conceived you so perfectly.”

He laughs again.

“Well, they won’t be at the yacht party so you can let loose then. Just don’t… hit your head or anything again, yeah?”

You playfully roll your eyes before opening the door and he follows behind. You smile at Jimin in his adorable bowtie and Mo-eum in her classy strapless dress and ask for their help to make sure that you don’t embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook’s parents.

“Hmm, I don’t think they’d mind if you do,” Jimin hums as you all walk down the hallway. “I think it’ll assure them that you’re not presenting yourself to be someone perfect for their son, only to end up betraying him.”

You sigh at the thought.

“And hey. Kook really, really and I mean, really likes you. That’s the only thing that matters to them.”

The four of you separate once you arrive at the 15th floor. Jungkook and the guys head to Seokjin’s room while you and Mo-eum squeal once you enter Hayoung’s suite. She’s already made up and there are several more photos taken before she gets into her dress, which Gyu-rim and Suhyeon help her wear. 

It’s not long before you go to another room on a different floor where Seokjin and Hayoung finally see each other. It’s also where their families will greet them before the ceremony starts.  

There are lots of tears and so much squealing throughout the whole hour that it happens. Seokjin’s rich family members are mostly humble and have a good sense of humor whereas your entire clan is a little too energetic. It’s definitely not balanced out but you end up laughing for most of it because there’s always a joke or remark that makes it through the crowd. 

But you see Seokjin always turns to Hayoung, his eyes softening as he watches his bride enjoy the moment just like he is, just like how he always tells her to. There’s so much trust and promise in the way he looks at her, and it’s the kind that’s built over time. It may seem a bit too early but you hope you and Jungkook get to that point one day.

“They’re so cute,” Jungkook whispers in your ear amidst all the chatter. “Who would have thought that the corniest guy in the world could have the softest smile?”

“Well, he’s looking at the love of his life,” you say. “That’s reserved for only her.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and looks at his friends. Behind all the jokes and the contagious laughter is a man who’s truly so in love, and Jungkook is happy he gets to witness it. 

Your time eventually comes to an end and you’re all escorted to the large balcony where cocktails are being served while the bride and groom remain for more photos. You take one sip of champagne before handing it over to Mo-eum once you see Jungkook’s parents, who happen to be talking to your parents, too.

They greet you with the warmest hugs and gush at how you look. You’re left feeling a bit flustered at the compliments and respond with the G-rated version of what you think of their son’s outfit. 

Both your parents have met each other many times and they talk just as any couple friends do. There’s a lot of praising each other’s kids and you thank the heavens that they get along early on. Jungkook’s parents even talk about your stay at their house tomorrow and your parents take this opportunity to invite the Jeons to your grandparents’ farm. You come up with possible dates and agree to firm up the plans in the coming weeks. 

Not long after, all the guests are asked to head inside the hall for the mid-afternoon ceremony, and you separate from your parents to sit at the round table with your friends at the front. 

As expected, the guests erupt in cheers and applause once the bride and groom are revealed behind the large doors. They look so perfect together, and you at least get to gush with your other cousins about how Hayoung copped herself a truly handsome guy when she proclaimed she was going to be a nun when she was a teenager. 

The vows end in tears, as Seokjin surprisingly goes into serious mode and expresses his most sincere emotions that surprises even his best friends. 

“This could've been left in a letter that I’d be reading to you tonight but I want everyone to know that I will love you in words, I will love you in action, and I will love you with every breath,” he says, as he wipes the corner of his eyes. “I’ll always be thankful to the chickens that chased you and had you yelling and laughing like crazy because that’s when I knew that I liked you. Your laughter changed my life, Hayoung. And I hope to never live a day without it.”

It’s a special moment you all share. It’s the first wedding in your friend group; they also happen to be the couple that you all look up to and seek comfort from. The emotions spill over to the speeches that Namjoon, Taehyung, Suhyeon, and Hayoung’s sister make. 

Before you know it, the newlyweds are walking out the hall for a change and you’re all buzzing from what just happened. The reception commences soon after, and it’s delicious food after delicious food that’s served that gets you and Jungkook jumping in your seats and moaning to yourselves. 

The socializing bit begins and you take the time to catch up with your other cousins. It’s midway through one conversation when you realize you haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. You look around the hall but eventually find him out the balcony, racing with your nieces and nephews. They squeal in disappointment when they lose and in excitement when they almost win, and while they take turns to go ahead, Jungkook’s the one who runs solo. 

“Five-minute break,” he yells, as he heaves while walking towards you.

You hand him a glass of water and chuckle at how he obviously is quite tired but is still willing to go a few rounds with the kids. 

“What have they asked you to do?” 

“Well, other than running, we’ve raced by hopping and jumping on one leg,” Jungkook answers. “They wanted to crawl, too, but I used the adult card for that one and said no.”

“They spend a lot of time outdoors so they come up with a bunch of different things,” you laugh, already used to them and their different games. 

“As they should,” Jungkook hums. “Which is why I’m going along with it. I mean, they’re at a wedding. It’s an event for adults. What else are they supposed to do?”

“Hmm, that’s true. But thanks for keeping them company,” you smile. “You deal with kids enough at work and now you’re doing that here, too.”

“Because it’s fun!” He beams. “Plus, So-you asked me if I’m your boyfriend because I keep kissing your cheek and she’s never seen anyone do that with you so she’s a little protective. I need her on my side.”

“She’s a little too smart for her own good. I told her once that I don’t really wanna have a boyfriend so she’s quite sus with me,” you laugh. “But she’ll come around. She loves the water so if you teach her how to swim, she’ll be impressed.”

“That’s already on tomorrow’s agenda,” Jungkook says. “One of your uncles told them I’m a swimmer and they got excited. They already told me to meet them at 9 sharp and that they’ll tell your parents if I don’t show up.”

“Bunch of brats. I love them so much,” you chuckle. “Well, there goes our Sunday morning.”

“At least it’s not too early. We can stay up tonight,” he smirks. 

“Well, we won’t if you’re the one who uses all his energy and falls asleep right away,” you point out.

“Oh, you know better than challenging me like that.”

You actually do, which is why you did. He’s gonna want to prove a point and he’s sexy when he does. You’re unsure if he’s caught on that you like challenging him so he’d do what you actually want him to, but he does it anyway. 

Before you could answer, Haneul is yelling that five minutes is up and that the jumping jacks race is about to start. Jungkook, truly wanting to prove himself to them, removes his suit and hands it over to you. 

You watch in amusement as he makes his way across the covered path, jumping up and down with his arms swinging over his head. The kids are shrieking while he heaves, but they cheer him on. At this point, some of them, tired from all the running and screaming, are already seated on the bench next to you, giggling.

“I don’t even know why Jungkook is doing this,” you chuckle as you watch him win the race. 

He’s not even letting them win as a courtesy.

“He’s in a competition with So-you,” Ha-yul says of her cousin.

“What competition?” You ask. 

Your 8-year old niece merely shrugs and wraps her arms around your waist and continues to watch on. Knowing her, she probably knows what they’re competing for but you don’t prod. Jungkook will probably tell you later.

You instead ask her about her family’s recent trip to Jeju and she beams with joy once she talks about the dolphins she saw swimming in the ocean.

“They look so magical, auntie. Even from afar,” she smiles. “Did you see them when you were there?”

The question sparks a memory. A very special one. 

“Yes, I did,” you gush, recalling how you wanted to hold Jungkook’s hand then because of the overwhelming beauty of nature and the exhilaration of accepting your feelings for him. “It was so pretty.”

“Did you see them with anyone?” She asks, looking up at you now.

“Yeah. I was with him,” you reply, gesturing towards the man who’s somehow ended up teaching the kids how to do a high kick.   

“Are you sure you were even looking at the dolphins?” 

You turn to Ha-yul with her doubtful eyes and crossed arms. 

“Yes, I was, you smarty-pants,” you chuckle, pinching her adorable cheeks. “Jungkook was the one who told me about them so we went to this spot to watch the sunrise and then the dolphins showed up right after.”

“Hmm. That’s very sweet,” she replies, slowly smiling. “I like him for you, auntie. He makes you smile a lot.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” You giggle, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the thought that even your niece can see it. “I like him for me, too.”

You eventually go back inside after feeling a bit hungry despite all the food you ate earlier. You yell for Jungkook to follow you, knowing he’d want to munch on something  after the series of physical activities he just did. Your nieces and nephews fortunately drain their energy and run towards the hall, too, and you overhear them tell their parents that “uncle Jungkook is so cool!”

You gush at him, knowing that he achieved his goal of impressing them, though you don’t think it would’ve been difficult. He’s natural with kids and you got to see that today. It’s even more special to you because they’re your family - people you love and adore, and it means so much that they accept him. 

Even your cousins seem to like him, too. One of them talks to Jungkook about teaching, another about swimming, and another about taekwondo. The conversations move to sports in general, and then video games, and then music and their favorite beer and whiskey brands. You leave them alone, not wanting to cling to Jungkook’s side the entire time. 

So you hang out with your siblings while your other friends stay nearby. By this time, the number of guests has started to dwindle. The ceremony and reception are long over but there’s still lots of food and drinks being served. The sunset yacht party for close friends and family will start soon, and you’re all just waiting for the go-signal to start heading to the port. 

You walk towards the bar for a glass of soda when you stop in your tracks at a sight that you didn’t think you’d see. There by the counter is Gyu-rim, giggling shyly and Yoongi, chuckling, too, while he pulls her close to him and whispers something in her ear. She laughs once more then their hands slowly move down, their fingers grazing before he places her hand firmly in his.

Your jaw drops and you blink multiple times to make sure it’s real. 

It is. And you seriously want to scream in excitement.

But you scurry back to your friends instead.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” you catch your breath. “It’s happening!”

“What’s happening!” Mo-eum rushes to you with a slice of cake in her hand. 

The rest of your friends slowly gather around you and you direct their sights to the bar where Yoongi and Gyu-rim are still definitely being all shy and affectionate.

“Who is it?” Jimin asks, squinting his eyes to try to see what has all of you gasping and freaking out.

“Gyu and Uncle!” You squeal at him. 

“What! Wait, I’m blind!” He groans.

And just as you’re about to tell your best friend to be subtle, he’s already off near the bar to get a closer look, and his own gasps alert the pair that you’re all onto them. 

But Yoongi just turns to your table and raises his glass in both confirmation and celebration.

And Gyu-rim just smiles. She’s no longer just doing it internally, that’s for sure.

They eventually walk towards your table and you can sense the restraint your friends have in bombarding them with questions. Except for Jimin.

“How! When!” He goes on. “I manifested this. I envisioned this. I prayed for this! When did you–”

“Coffee. This morning,” Yoongi answers. 

“So did you two just look at each other and then have a silent understanding of your feelings?” Taehyung wonders.

“Sorta,” Gyu-rim hums. “The distance between us just kept getting shorter and then he… uh, he just held my hand and I held it tighter and then we just… I guess, kinda knew.”

“How on brand,” you remark.

“Yeah, just like your confession,” Jungkook, who suddenly appears next to you, whispers in your ear.

“At least I confessed first,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Then why were you awkward during breakfast?” Mo-eum asks the pair.

“It was fresh,” Yoongi shrugs. “And we weren’t sure how to act without you guys freaking out.”

“We were still talking about you though,” Jimin informs him.

“I’m sure you started it,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Of course I did,” Jimin winks.

“So why now?” Taehyung asks. “What pushed you to finally confess?”

“I didn’t wanna waste any more time,” Yoongi sighs.

“And I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Gyu-rim pipes in.

“And well, I was thinking about those two,” Yoongi adds, his gaze turning to you and Jungkook now. “There are lots of things going on in our lives. I could be one serendipitous encounter away from letting her get away. I don’t really think I could live with that.”

“Gosh, our impact,” you whisper to Jungkook after softly smiling at the new couple. 

He just wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He’ll always be glad that things happened the way they did with both of you, and he’d go through a decade of friendship and periods of distance and confusion if it means having you like this.

You all continue to gush and talk about all that happened today until you’re told that you can now head to the port. You’re transported in coaches then you make your way to the large yacht where there’s more food and drinks, hanging lights, and a saxophonist serenading the minimal guests. 

There’s less squealing this time with the kids left behind in the hotel. It’s more relaxed now, as the many lounges offer so much space to enjoy the scenery, the almost cool air, and each other’s company. 

You and Jungkook constantly get separated, with your relatives pulling you over to them every five minutes. You can’t complain though, as you really don’t see them as much, but you also wish you could have more time to be with your boyfriend, perhaps hold his hand as you socialize, or gush at how he looks because he truly is so beautiful tonight. 

But somehow, you find your way to each other once the sun starts to set. Between the purple and orange sky, the calm waves, and the jazz music, it’s a moment that you’ll truly treasure, especially with Jungkook’s arms around you, his chin tucked in that space by your shoulder, humming in amazement.

You don’t really need words for this moment. You just pull him closer to you and kiss the side of his face when you can, an act of extreme fondness and desire that you could offer him right now.

The dancefloor opens up and Seokjin and Hayoung are the first to slow dance. People soon follow, including you and Jungkook, whose hands just don’t want to separate from you. You feel quite overwhelmed and opt to gently lay your head on his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat and the full warmth of his arms around you. You know it’s where you’ll always want to be.

His soft kisses on your head give you a kind of assurance that’s quite emotional. It’s as if he knows how much you feel and how deep you’re thinking and he’s there, not quieting your mind but encouraging it. It’s acceptance and respect that you don’t think you’ve ever felt with anyone before.

The music turns lively not long after. The drinking continues, too, leaving some guests in a rather unfiltered and perhaps wild state, including your friends. 

There’s Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung dancing around like always. There’s Hoseok with his now half unbuttoned dress shirt, not too subtly grinding with his girlfriend in the corner. 

Then there’s Namjoon, yelling “fuck the government” towards the ocean, and Yoongi has to remind him to tone it down because he’s part of the government, and well, he’s a future public figure so this behavior might not be a good look.

“I’m thinking of quitting my job, actually,” Namjoon admits. “I’ll just have my own podcast and name it ‘the professional yapper’ and talk about all the things that fuck us over. And crabs. I’d like to talk about crabs.”

“Who hurt you?” Gyu-rim asks.

“I… I’m drunk,” Namjoon heaves.

“We know,” several of you say in unison.

But this is when his body starts to shut down. After releasing all his pent up anger, his energy drains and he gets sleepy. He doesn’t want to sit down, knowing he’d fall asleep and it’ll be difficult for anyone to carry him off the boat, so Jungkook stays by Namjoon’s side to make sure he doesn’t fall on the floor or into the water. 

It keeps your boyfriend away from you again though, as he follows the older man everywhere, even outside the bathroom. But you don’t mind. Jungkook’s taken care of your friends during times like this and you know he won’t stop just because of you. 

It’s already dark once the yacht returns to the port. It’s barely 10 PM but you’re full and exhausted. You’ve had a long day and you just want to have a nice bath like you promised Jungkook and well, do a lot more. 

Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung don’t want their night to be over yet so they head to the hotel bar to eat and drink some more. They don’t miss the chance to tease you and Jungkook about having the suite all to yourselves though but you run with it. It’s not like your desire for each other is a secret or something you suppress when you’re with your friends.

So you and Jungkook head back to your floor and once he enters your bedroom, he immediately climbs on the foot of the bed and lies down. With his loosened tie, he undoes another button of his dress shirt and releases a deep exhale. 

Even you feel his tiredness from that one breath. 

You stand by the window and just watch him, his arms and legs straightened out and his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him like this. His body’s breathtaking even with clothes on, and you let the X-rated thoughts fill your mind.

He mistakes your hardened gaze for annoyance, as he apologizes for lying on the bed with his day clothes. It’s one of your biggest pet peeves, and you once had an argument because he was tired from work and wanted to cuddle but you wouldn’t let him stay next to you on your bed until he showered. It was more of a banter, really, but you did sense his frustration when he dragged himself to your bathroom then slept right after lying on your side. 

He sits up now and scoots to the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, Kook. Rest there if you want to,” you assure him. “I don’t blame you, considering you were the cool uncle and the great friend tonight.”

“Those kids are relentless,” he chuckles. “And Joon is so heavy; it was a struggle getting him off the boat.”  

“Well, he has a lot of angst to release but I’m sure he’s glad you helped him.”

“Yeah, but that meant I didn’t get to be with you much today,” he pouts now. 

You smile at his sullen expression, as the realization that you spent much of the wedding being with other people hits him. Sure, you had dinner and the sunset viewing and that slow dance but with everything that happened today, it still doesn’t seem enough. 

So you walk towards him and slightly lift your dress so you could sit on his lap. He shifts you around so you’re snug against him and he smirks.

“So you’re not mad that I lied on the bed in day clothes?” 

“You were at the foot of it so it’s fine,” you wave him off. “That could be our compromise.”

“Okay then. So… will you show me the X-rated version of your thoughts now?”

You gaze at him - at his sparkling eyes and soft lips and chiseled jaw and think this view of him will always leave you breathless. The fact that you have this beautiful man wanting your attention blows your mind and you truly wish he’ll never get sick of you. 

You bite your lip and nod before kissing him deeply, not holding yourself back now since you’ve been wanting to do this all afternoon. He returns your eagerness and moans against your mouth. He grips your waist and pulls you closer to him in an effort to eliminate whatever distance is left, which is none. You’re chest to chest now but that still doesn’t feel close enough.

Soft moans fill the room and your pleasure continues to build, especially with Jungkook grazing his fingers down your semi-bare back before slowly pulling off the straps of your dress. It triggers something inside you, as you now fiddle with his necktie, desperate to get it off. 

You manage to untangle it and quickly undo the buttons of his shirt. He lets you do it on your own while his hands travel to the edge of the bed, and you feel him smile in the kiss that hasn’t stopped.

You finally remove his top then move to unbuckle his belt. Briefly pulling yourself from him, you eagerly undo his trousers and start pulling it off. He watches you from his seat on the bed while you bend down, and you cock your brow at his smug face. He looks like he’s really enjoying this.

“You letting me do all the work?” You tease. 

“For now.”

You know what that means. And that just gets you more worked up. So you immediately undress and watch him watch your every move until you’re back on his lap, both of you now completely naked.

Your kisses turn even more heated. His grip on your waist tightens, and your nails on his shoulders dig a little deeper. You catch your breath and let him kiss down your neck, his teeth merely grazing your flesh, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

Your hand travels south, too, until they reach his hardened dick and you’re overwhelmed with an even more intense desire for him and everything he is. 

You want him so bad, you think you’ll explode. 

Jungkook feels you grip his length and grunt as your tongue flicks his lips. This is usually your tell.

“Let me just get the co—”

“No,” you interject, pulling away as you look at him with now wondering eyes.

“I… uh—”

“Well, do you want it inside you, at least?” He asks, gesturing towards his member that you haven’t let go of.

“Yes, I just… I just want it naked. Is that okay?”

It takes a few seconds for it to fully register to him what exactly you mean.

“You’re asking me if I want to be inside you without a condom?” He asks incredulously. 

“Well, yeah. You said you’ve always used one,” you say. 

“It was a precaution for a bunch of things,” he reasons. “And well, given what happened with the last girl I dated, I’m glad I did. But you said you’ve always used one, too.”

“Same reason,” you shrug. “But I really, really like you, Kook. And you’re so hot. And I hate the taste of latex when I suck you after.”

“Those seem like valid reasons,” he chuckles. “You feel really good even when I wear one so it doesn’t matter as much.”

“Yeah but, I don’t wanna do this with doubts or hesitation,” you sigh. “And I don’t wanna gatekeep.”

“You don’t wanna gatekeep… your vagina?”

“Yes. You say it’s really good down there. You can have all of it.”

Jungkook laughs out of amusement. You truly are unfiltered and bizarre sometimes but still very endearing.

“That’s your vagina though,” he reminds you. “I’m just a visitor.”

“And you can visit my coochie without clothes on! Like you’re free. Plus, you’re the only one who’s going in there so why not?”

He laughs again at your allusions and pulls you in for a hug. 

“You drive me crazy, you know? And in the best way,” he says softly. 

“Thank you for that clarification,” you pull away and giggle. 

“So uh, shall I visit now?”

“Gotta prep you again first,” you gesture towards his flaccid dick.

“Oh. That won’t be hard,” he smirks.

You both burst into laughter but he does clarify that he’ll indeed get hard again; he just couldn’t pass up on the pun.

Jungkook softens at the look you give him. There’s this gentleness in it like always but it’s a little different this time. It's filled with even more trust. Perhaps appreciation and gratefulness, too? You often thank him for listening to all your thoughts and he gladly would. Everyday. 

He loves that this is something both of you can easily talk about, which isn’t even the first time. And that just like him, you don’t want any reservations or doubts in your relationship. There’s so much clarity that he feels for you in such a short amount of time that he’s been with you and he doesn’t even question it. 

Just this intimacy with you is everything he wants - there’s pleasure and intense desire but there’s playfulness, too. There’s warmth and comfort and that’s what being with you is like. 

You gaze at each other with such yearning that it immediately turns into a heated kiss. You catch your breath and his mouth travels to your nipples, expertly lapping them up, causing you to tilt your head and moan. He takes the chance to kiss down your torso, leaving you panting once he makes it to the side of your waist, an erogenous part he recently discovered that he takes advantage of. 

You return to kisses and your hands explore his chest before they grip his now hardened length. You moan at the feel of it, then thumb his tip before you lift yourself up and slowly slide down.

The sensation is different and you know he feels it, too. He hums and curses under his breath, pulling you close to nibble your neck while you grind against each other. 

It really does feel liberating in an odd way, Jungkook thinks, just because he feels everything. You clench around him and it has him moaning. 

This is the time when he does all the work, as he shifts you around to lie on the bed and you know it, too, biting your lip in anticipation for how hard he’s gonna go.

But he wants to focus on your pleasure first, so he dives down your cunt and kisses you in all the places he knows you like. He meets your eyes and hums to himself in satisfaction, knowing how much you’re enjoying this.

Once he feels your slick on his mouth, he gets on his knees and aligns himself with you, spreading your legs so he can get a good look of that naked entrance you were talking about.

You both moan once more, and Jungkook pushes in and out, familiarizing himself with the feeling that he knows he’ll keep having. You feel even more amazing like this; he just hopes he can keep it together and make this last longer.

“You okay, babe?” He pants.

“Yeah. It’s just like Pilates.”

He laughs again, having accepted that you’ll always have something fascinating to say even when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

But he quickly gets back to that hypnotic feel, especially once he flushes your legs against your chest, allowing him to thrust into you intensely at a different angle. 

You’re definitely not yet flexible enough so you’re a bit overwhelmed, but you let him chase his high just as he let you do so earlier with his skillful mouth and focus on the way he feels bare inside you. He knows how to use his beautiful dick and not to be cheesy, but it feels pretty special that no one else has ever felt him like this. 

His thrusts start to get erratic and you know he’s close. He pulls away, pulls out, then pumps himself repeatedly until he’s spilling his seed on your torso. The pure look of pleasure and exhaustion on his face is so sexy, you feel like coming again.

He finishes and hovers over you, supported by his propped up arms with his damp hair and sweat dangling from his forehead. He’s panting and cursing under his breath as he pecks your lips, and you just watch him, enthralled by these little actions, knowing that your body made him feel that way. 

“Let me just—”

He cuts himself off and walks to the bathroom then returns with a pile of tissues that he wipes you with. He apologizes as he does and you look at him softly, appreciating the gentleness and warmth on his face. He discards the soaked tissues and plops down next to you.

For a brief moment, you just look at each other, as if words aren’t enough to express what you want to say. It’s not just about the sex or the pleasure you both get from it. It’s not just the lust that courses through your veins and the desire for more. 

It’s that feeling of security, you think to yourself. It’s falling quickly from cloud 9 but knowing you’re not gonna crash because not only is he there next to you, holding your hand while you fall, he’s assuring you that it’s not gonna hurt. The fall isn’t the kind where that happens. 

Not like it’s some fairytale you’re in - although it might very well be - but there’s this trust that you both know what you’re getting into, that you know what you’re doing, that you just want to do what makes the other person happy. 

Because that’s what you want. With Jungkook, you’re not chasing the high or some elusive happiness because you’re living it already. It’s in your grasp and you’re filled with it. 

He smiles and you smile back. You snuggle close to him and softly kiss his lips. You want to repeat over and over again how much you like and adore and want him but it doesn’t feel enough so you settle for a hug and a bite of his cheek just because.

Jungkook chuckles and settles in this position next to you with caresses on your bare shoulder. He’s thinking of all that he feels for you until he hears your soft snores and he laughs again. 

You catch yourself and ask him if you fell asleep.

“Wow, you’re tired?” He teases.

“Shut up. Pilates makes me tired. What more this?”

“Fair enough,” he hums. “Let’s have a bath then. It could help you relax.”

You immediately agree and get off the bed. You clean your face then prepare the tub, splashing in some bath salts and lavender oil. He stands next to you naked, looking every bit handsome that you can’t help but kiss him again.

He still shivers at your touch and that urges you, as your hand once more wraps around his length and desire overtakes you once more. You start bending down and Jungkook knows what you want. He stops you for a bit and grabs one of the small towels from the sink and places it on the floor, right where your knees are supposed to be.

You get back to it immediately and the absence of the taste and smell of latex is so satisfying. It urges you to do more. It’s perhaps the best suck you’ve given him and the sounds he makes spurs you on. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good for you.

You let him come in your mouth this time and the long exhale he makes lets you know that you did well. It’s the same time when the tub gets filled, and you both go inside, moaning at the feel of the warm water all over your tired bodies.

It’s quiet for a while. You suppose you’re both just soaking in everything, familiarizing yourselves with the silence and the fact that you get to enjoy this fancy bathroom where you can do whatever you want. 

But Jungkook is the one who cuts through the sound of the bubbling water.

“You were so pretty tonight,” he says with his deep voice. 

You scrunch your nose and smile, giddy at his compliment and the sincerity in which he gives it. Even after all you’ve done in just the past hour, this is what gets you all shy and giggly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You, well… I’ve told you both versions. But it was nice to see you being with my family, Kook. I know you’re usually shy around new people but you looked so natural with them. I really appreciate you trying.”

“I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous,” he chuckles. “You talk about your family a lot and you’re their baby. I wanted them to see that I’m good for you, you know? That I can take care of you because I’m sure that’s what they want for you.”

“That’s actually what one of my cousins said as they were leaving,” you smile. “And that my grandparents would’ve loved you.”

“Yeah?”

“She said you would’ve been a big help at the farm,” you chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jungkook smiles. “I know that they put Seokjin to work that one time. He said he’s glad he was prepared because his uncle has a farm, too, but that was tough work. And it was worth it. They were charmed by him at the end.”

“It would’ve been the same with you,” you say, reminiscing about that trip from long ago.

Seokjin and Hayoung were dating for just three months when they visited your grandparents. He’s lucky he got their approval then. Two years later, your grandfather passed; your grandmother followed a year later. 

But Jungkook got to meet them years before that as your friend and that still means something. Regardless, you think they’d adore him, too, if they were still around.

He smiles and kisses you. It's an affirmation he welcomes, and it’s one he got today from your entire family, especially from his biggest critics - your nieces and nephews. 

You return Jungkook’s kiss and moan once his one hand travels to your clit and the other fondles your breast. It’s the perfect place for this, and you sigh in his hold with your back flushed against his chest as you anticipate reaching your peak.

And you do, with his expert fingers fiddling away while his tongue swirls in your mouth with such intensity. You crash from your high engulfed in his arms, and you really can’t ask for anything more.

You stay like that for a while longer before heading to the shower. You fool around again that by the time you finish, you’re worn out and eager to sleep. 

“You’re waking up to go swimming with me and your family, right?” Jungkook asks you after you’ve turned the lamp off.

“Uh-huh,” you yawn, turning to hug him now.

His chest is taut and smooth and he smells like baby powder that you push your face against it out of sexiness aggression.

He laughs at you and accepts the new quirks you develop when it comes to him. 

“Good. Let’s slee—”

You’re snoring before he could finish his sentence as he expected. 

The perfect weekend may be halfway over but he’s loved every single moment with you. Including all the times you’d fallen asleep before he could even properly wish you goodnight. 

You ask for a five-minute extension when your alarm rings the next morning but Jungkook isn’t having it.

“I might lose points from your nieces and nephews if I’m not down at the pool by 9,” he groans. “They made me promise. You can’t sabotage me like this.”

He pulls the cover off of you and you groan in response. You slightly open your eyes and find him standing beside your bed already in his swim shorts, arms crossed and looking impatient.

“They won’t do anything. You’re being dramatic,” you say.

“I’m being cautious,” he argues. “Come on, babe.”

“Fine,” you frown, getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom. 

He follows you there and kisses your neck to get in your good graces and it works. You’re that weak for him and he knows this so he takes advantage. Sometimes you pretend to be angry or uncaring just so he’d butter up to you but his eye rolling and smirk tell you he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

You finally get in your bathing suit and head to the indoor pool where the kids cheer when they see you and Jungkook. You think they’re excited because he promised to teach them how to swim this morning. 

“You weren’t that excited when I taught you,” your cousin, Hae-dal, whines.

She was a competitive swimmer once upon a time, too.

“But you’re not a teacher, Ma,” Ha-yul says. “I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”

“She’s got a point,” you tell your cousin. 

Once Jungkook starts teaching them how to do the basics and guiding them with their strokes, she concedes.

You didn’t really plan on swimming today but the kids dragged Jungkook and he couldn’t bail on them. He still would’ve come though; he really wanted to try the hotel’s indoor pool and you don’t blame him. It’s huge and fancy-looking. There’s an area for kids, too, so teaching them is easy. You watch him manage six excited children who all want his attention and like you expected, he’s able to give it to each one.

“He’s such a natural,” Hoseok’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

You turn and see that your friends and their partners are here, too, and are heading to the adult pool. You wave your greetings and signal that you’ll go to them later.

“He is,” you respond to your friend. “I never noticed it before.”

“Would you have liked him then if you did?”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” you hum. “I wasn’t in a good headspace for years and I probably would’ve screwed us up.”

“And he probably would’ve fought to keep you.”

“You think so?” You wonder. “If I hurt him, then I don’t deserve him.”

“Only if you intended to, but we all know you wouldn’t. Not to him. And that’s because you’re a good person, ___. I hope you’ll never forget that.”

You look at Hoseok, a man you’ve known for years and someone you’d seek advice from every once in a while when things are tough because of how wise he is, so he knows your fears and your worries well. 

He knows you’re afraid to disappoint people, that you don’t want to hurt the people you care about. And even as you’d told Jungkook last night that you want to continue with your relationship without doubts and fears, somehow this affirmation from Hoseok is something you also needed. And you wonder if it stems from a conversation he might’ve had.

He reads your mind, as he says that he, Jungkook, and Yoongi were chatting last night while making sure Namjoon didn’t fall over the yacht’s railing. 

“Kook was just talking about not wanting to fail you. As a partner and as a friend.”

“Did you assure him that he wouldn’t?” You ask.

“I did. And I reminded him that he’s a good person, too, and hurting you isn’t something he’d just do.”

“Seems easy to say, huh?” You laugh dryly.

“People can fight and have misunderstandings and not hurt each other. That’s… kind of what a mature relationship is,” Hoseok advises. “I know you’re on the cusp of something really great - if you’re not there yet - and I thought that reminding you that you’re capable of having genuine, long-lasting and gentle and intense feelings for someone would help. Because you are, okay? Kook’s really happy that he gets to be with you.”

You smile and think that it’s indeed a good reminder. You and Jungkook have been on this honeymoon ride of laughter and playful bickering the past two months and this weekend has turned out to be a beautiful dream, too. 

You feel so much for him and you don’t want to one day be overwhelmed by it that you start to doubt if you’re built for something enduring, like you want your feelings for him to be. 

You told him months ago that you’re both good people who’ll find other good people meant for you and that you deserve. And both of you have. It’s quite serendipitous - all the times you comforted yourself at the thought that the person meant for you is just somewhere around, he’d been next to you all along. 

“Thanks, Hoseok,” you turn to the man next to you. “I’m not surprised if Yoongi and Gyu-rim turn to you, too.”

“Oh, they already have. And it’s barely been a day,” he laughs. “And I say the same thing - they’re good people who deserve good things, too. And they’ve experienced so much that they know enough not to let go of the amazing things that come their way. But you and Kook - you’re like my babies. It makes me happy seeing both of you happy.”

“Well, I am. Very much.”

“And he is, too. But know that I’m just here, okay? We all are.”

You nod and hug him, assured even more that when things get tough, it’s your friends who'll help you and Jungkook find the way.

You finally head to the adult pool and greet your friends. By that time, Jungkook’s swimming lessons have ended, and he’s left the kids on their own to play around. 

You dip in the water and stay close to Taehyung and Mo-eum while Jungkook does his laps. It turns out to be a spectacle, as your friends and family stop to watch him. He’s surprised when everyone erupts in cheers and he just laughs it off, content that he still has the skills to entertain, even if he’s certain that he’ll continue doing this for fun.

Swim time ends and you head to your rooms to wash up and prepare for an early lunch before you checkout. Your friends and family occupy several tables of the hotel restaurant and manage to not be too disruptive with how large your group is. 

You fix your things and head to the reception then say goodbye to your relatives as they go back home. Your parents remind you and Jungkook about scheduling your visit to Gwangju and you promise that you will. Your nieces and nephews all take their time to hug your friends goodbye, especially Jungkook who they now say is their favorite uncle, a badge he says he’ll proudly wear. 

It’s a short drive to Jimin’s father’s cafe where you and your friends go to for dessert, and he welcomes you all with your favorite cakes and pastries that have you jumping in your seat. 

That’s where you separate. Seokjin and Hayoung go back to the hotel for another night before they fly to their honeymoon, Taehyung heads for the airport to return to New York, you and Jungkook drive to his parents’ house, and the rest of your friends journey back to Seoul. It’s goodbyes for now but the next lunch gathering is scheduled for when the newlyweds return and you can’t wait for that day to come.  

“So, are you excited to go to my childhood home?” Jungkook asks as he turns the corner to his street.

“I’ve been to your house a few times before, Kook,” you remind him. “It’s nothing new.”

“Well, you’re going as my girlfriend this time. That’s a new experience.”

“What new experiences am I gonna have, huh?” You teasingly ask.

“Hand-holding under the table, hugs on my couch… make out session on my childhood bed,” he shrugs.

“Very tempting,” you say.

“And very doable. My parents might even gush and tell us that it’s okay to be affectionate because, uh, they’re not really used to that.”

“Hmm. Sounds good then,” you smile. “Can’t wait.”

The new experience turns out to include Jungkook’s parents telling their neighbors that their son has a girlfriend and that she’s very smart and beautiful.

Jungkook shakes his head in embarrassment, as the elderly couple were merely passing on their street and greeting them but his parents went ahead and bragged about you, which you actually think is quite cute. And a relief, because you were worried about what they thought of you. They’ve always been nice, but you want them to truly like you, and with the way they’re welcoming you into their home, you think they already do.

The new experience also includes being shown old home videos of Jungkook growing up, like his taekwondo competitions and trips to the beach. You’d seen some of his baby photo albums the few times you all went here as friends but there’s more this time, and you’re reminded of baby Jungkook’s chunky cheeks and perfectly round doe eyes. 

There are photos of him being cradled by his mom and riding his dad’s shoulders and wearing costumes with his older brother. There are those from family trips and his kindergarten days. There are more of the embarrassingly adorable bowl cut hairstyle from middle school and the side bangs from high school. 

That’s how you spend the afternoon - his parents and brother telling you all these stories, Jungkook covering his eyes in embarrassment and defending himself, and you, heaving from laughter. 

They don’t even mind when you snort or say unfiltered things and that’s a comforting feeling. They look at you endearingly when you tell stories of Jungkook over the years and even recently, and you don’t miss the way his mom would sometimes touch your hand out of reflex and let it stay there. 

She’s such a warm individual, and you feel that aura of comfort she exudes that Jungkook definitely took from her. She’s so bright and positive and you understand why she’s beloved by her students. 

His father is very laid-back and slightly cheeky. He likes reminding you that it was Jungkook’s mom who confessed her feelings first because she found him very handsome, just like you did, and you see how Jungkook takes from his old man in that regard, too.

His older brother is quite introverted but has a good sense of humor, and you see why they get along so well, even if they insist it wasn’t always like that. But he seems very caring and attentive, and you’re reminded that Jungkook was raised by such good people. 

You’re lucky you get to be part of this family, as what they say you are, with his mom insisting that you always were because of your decade-long friendship with her son but now, you hold a special place in it.

You continue talking with Mrs. Jeon and let her show you Jungkook’s awards cabinet while the men start preparing dinner, as it is in this household. Jungkook did tell you that this mom’s cooking isn’t the best so it was something they always did. 

She asks you more about your work and takes interest in the research projects you did for child development. She asks about your college days, too, and how you and Jungkook were like back then.

You enjoy sharing about your life and your friendship with her son. You don’t know how much she knows but you talk about the past year and the trips you took and all the moments you had with him that turned out to be the serendipitous moments that brought you here. 

“He really likes you, ___. Like, really, really likes you. I don’t know how else to put it,” she takes your hand and smiles. “He’s a lot more open about himself and he talks to us with this joy and calmness and we’re really happy about that. So thank you. If he does anything silly, let me know, okay?”

“I doubt he will but yes, Auntie,” you smile back. “I think this is the kind of thing that my parents will tell him, too.”

“Probably,” she chuckles. “But we’re parents, ___. At the end of the day, we just want our children to love and be loved. We want them to be happy. And that’s what he is when he’s with you.”

You bow in gratitude, as her words assure you. But love? It’s an exciting thought. You don’t know if it’s all too soon but you know where this whole thing with Jungkook is going, and it’s definitely heading there. 

And just as your mind’s about to go elsewhere again, Mr. Jeon calls out that dinner is ready. 

You excitedly walk to the dinner table and gasp at all they prepared. From the beef soup to the pajeon to the cold noodles and raw fish, your tummy rumbles in anticipation. And as you expected, everything is delicious. 

You and Jungkook take turns in moaning and making these weird sounds you make when the food is good, and your shyness in front of his family slowly melts away. You talk more over dinner and even while you wash the dishes with his mom and then right after.

But you don’t stay up late, as you still have a long drive back to Seoul tomorrow afternoon. So you bid his parents and brother good night and take turns with Jungkook in washing up.

You’re exhausted by the time you’re in bed, your leg over his and your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re softly kissing his face as you both take in the silence and he asks you if you want to ride his bike with him and go to this famous spot to watch the sunrise. 

“To relive that time,” he tells you. “I… I always find myself going back to that morning in Jeju.”

“Why?”

“It was so thrilling - riding with you for the first time, feeling what I was feeling but nervous to let you know… But it was also so grounding, I guess,” he explains. “I mean, sunrise, dolphins, scenery of a seaside town… It’s like all these pretty things, including you.”

You remember the feeling clearly. It’s not hard to forget since it felt the same to you. Perhaps that’s when you thought that you could really have the good things you dreamed for in the palm of your hands, and now you do. Seeing the sunrise again with Jungkook this time would definitely make that past sunrise and all the sunrises after that even more special.

“Okay,” you smile. “But you’re waking me up. Drag me out of bed if you need to.”

“I’ll carry you bridal style out this door if it comes to it.”

You giggle at his words but promise that you’ll wake up. You don’t want to miss it either.   

“Today was nice, Kook,” you say after a beat of silence. “I think your mom finds me funny.”

“She finds you endearing,” he corrects. “She likes you. She likes you for me. And she thinks you really like me, too.”

“Hmm. I wonder how she figured that out. Is it because of the hundred times I called you handsome or praised you for a gazillion reasons or held your hand every time I had the chance?” 

You playfully mock yourself even if you think you’re very transparent about how you feel. You truly think you can’t like Jungkook anymore than you already do.

“Possibly,” he laughs. “But also because your eyes sparkle when you look or talk about me. It’s kind of a big tell.”

“Imagine if you were half-naked and she caught me ogling at you.”

“Let’s be thankful then that the first time she saw us together, I was fully clothed,” he chuckles. 

You nod in agreement and think the same. 

It’s quiet again for a while and Jungkook meets your sleepy eyes. He kisses you and he feels your toes curl like they often do, and he smiles against your lips because like always, you’re not afraid to feel things for him, and you’re not afraid to show it. 

He promises himself he’ll take after you. And then he can tell you everything he really feels.

You keep your promise and wake up when Jungkook taps your arm. He’s already dressed, and you appreciate how he always gets up first so you have more time to sleep. 

You fix up and make your way out in the dark where his motorcycle is parked on the street since he’d really planned on riding around in the morning. 

He reminds you of safety guidelines and tells you you’re free to hold onto him anytime, not like you need a reason anyway. He puts on your helmet and helps you up, then starts the drive to a nearby town to head to a spot he’s passed by so many times. 

The ride is quiet, with only the soft breeze of the summer morning buzzing as you drive past houses and mountains. You see the coast and he tells you you’re near. 

It’s still dark when you arrive but you can get a sense of what’s around you. There’s a walkway that leads to a church and behind it are massive rocks that jut out the ocean. There are some street lights the further you walk and you see the view that he’s talking about. The water is so vast and the boulders are flat and safe enough for you to sit at so you find a spot and sit between his legs, basking in the calmness of your surroundings and the warmth of the man who’s holding you. 

“Do you come here often?” You ask, as light starts to dot the horizon. 

“Not really. I ride past here sometimes but there are always many people in the morning,” he says. “The sun rises over this side so I thought it would be a good place to go. And well, it’s beautiful and we’ve barely seen it.”

“I already like it. You can just hear the waves crash against the rocks and it’s so refreshing.”

He hums in agreement and asks you how you slept. You talk about the short dream you had and end up talking about the other ones you remember. Jungkook laughs at your stories again and tucks his head in your neck when he does. He holds you tight and shifts around when he senses your legs cramping up. 

The sky continues to lighten, as orange and red hues peek out of the ocean. 

And then the sun comes and you hold your breath like always. It’s so breathtaking and it feels even more surreal being where you are. It’s another sight that you’ll ingrain in your mind knowing that this time, there’s so much more meaning to it. It’s as if you’ve really come full circle - from that hike up in Chungbuk to Jeju a few months ago to right now. 

Jungkook went from someone who was just around you to someone next to you and with you, and you’re filled with so much emotion, just thinking of how you got here. 

The sun’s taken its place in the sky and you hum in satisfaction. It’s another one of those daily occurrences that you get to witness and be a part of, and you have the most amazing person you know holding you.

You turn to Jungkook and find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes soften and you smile and he smiles back.

You’re so beautiful this morning, just like you are everyday. But he finds that everyday is a new kind of beautiful, and he wants to keep finding new things about you to gush about. Whether it’s a new pitch of your voice when you’re whining about something, a different reaction when he teases you, another fascinating thought you have, or anything else, really. 

He wants to keep learning about and experiencing life with you. He wants to keep holding your hand and settling into this home that both of you keep discovering and enjoying. He wants to—

“Kook, are you okay?” You cut through his thoughts. 

“Yeah. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Jungkook sees your face change into one of surprise. It doesn’t worry him though. Even if you don’t feel it yet, you might as well be close to it.

“Is it too soon? Too late?” He wonders.

He at least doesn’t want to put you off. 

You look at the man with the prettiest eyes and child-like smile and think that he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. To be loved by him is probably your greatest gift.

“Hmm, it’s actually perfect timing,” you say, gazing back to let him know just how much you feel, too.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking that I can’t like you more than I do now but I could. I could love you and I do, Kook. I… I really do love you.”

You’ve always been one to give in to your feelings and you feel them intensely. At this moment, it’s love that you’re filled with, and you feel it so much for the person in front of you.

He giggles and kisses you softly on the lips. You kiss him back then give him pecks on his cheek until he’s lying on his back and hugging you tightly.

It’s so freeing, as you listen to the ocean waves and the seagulls flying by and Jungkook’s racing heartbeat. It’s as if you’re able to feel all the comfort and passion you could possibly feel for someone and you want it to always be like this. 

You settle back on your earlier spot and he wraps his arms around your waist again.

“So, uh. When you have the time, do you mind telling So-you that I won?” He says.

You look at him questioningly.

“I told you she cornered me after the ceremony and asked me if I was your boyfriend, right?” Jungkook starts. “So I explained we were friends and then we started dating and she asked if I plan on marrying you like her uncle Seokjin who was also just friends with her auntie Hayoung and well…”

“What!” You laugh, imagining your 10-year old niece interrogating Jungkook. 

“Yeah and well, I said that we haven’t talked about getting married because we just started dating but that I love you so that should be a start,” he continues. “And so I got into this ‘who loves you more competition’ because she insisted it was her and while I understood where she was coming from, I couldn’t accept defeat and I insisted it was me. So we played all these games and your other nephews and nieces started playing along. I won everything but So-you didn’t want to declare me as winner.”

“Why not?”

“She said it’ll only count if I tell you. Because why does it matter if I love you if you don’t know that I do?”

“What a smart girl,” you laugh, thinking of how silly and incredibly adorable that whole exchange might have been. 

“She is and she’s right. It matters that you know. And I wanted to tell you that night but I didn’t want you to think it was only because you let me enter coochie heaven naked.”

You laugh again.

“What about yesterday?” You wonder.

“I was going to, especially after seeing how good you were with my family but… I wanted to savor the feeling one last time,” he explains. “Just like when I liked you first and didn’t say anything, I just had these moments of feeling it all to myself and admiring you without expectations. And I get to release it all now and it feels really good.”

“You’re not too bad at expressing your feelings, you know that?” You smile at him, feeling overwhelmed and quite speechless at everything he’s saying. 

“I try,” he whispers.

“I love you for it. And for everything else,” you assure him. “So maybe this beats the Jeju sunrise?”

“That was still special on its own. That version of us was trying to figure out if we could be each other’s home. This version…” he says, taking your hand for him to kiss. “This version knows we want to stay in this home for a long time.”

You let his words settle and pull his arms to hug you tighter. It’s all you need because he’s right. 

You’ve settled into him, into this with him, and even into this version of yourself that embraces all types of emotions and basks herself in the love she receives and gives. 

And as you spend the rest of the morning walking around town with his parents, and as you hold his hand while he drives back to Seoul, you think that he’s who you’ve been wishing for this whole time.

He’s the good that you hoped for and truly deserve, and you don’t think you could ever ask for anything more. 

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[socksandbuttons]

Wake Up, Daydream (Part 1)

He woke with a start.

The sun model had been sitting on his knees with his hands lightly folded on his lap, as his oddly groggy mind slowly found reality returning to him. He had been seated in what he assumed to be the middle of a very large room with a single overly bright, florescent light shining down on him from above. This, while the rest of the room was fully concealed in shadows. The light sensors in his rays adjusted slightly as he sat up a bit straighter and tried to make out more of his surroundings. This room was as black as pitch and try as he might he couldn’t discern anything else in the area. He shifted and tried to stand up, but he found that his limbs were shaking as he did so and he ended up falling back down again... it was as though he had been asleep for hours, if not longer. It was unusual that he was this disoriented by everything after merely sleeping. Not to mention he couldn’t make out anything in the darkness that surrounded him.

‘Where... am I?’

Was he in parts and service again? Did he-

“Moon? D-did it work? Where’s Ecl-” He started, only to be interrupted by the sound of slow footsteps approaching him from a direction he couldn’t immediately discern. The sun themed animatronic tensed as he looked in all directions. Why’d Moon leave the lights off-

“Moon isn’t here. You don’t need to worry about him.”

This Sun froze and watched as another version of himself walked out from the dark directly in front of him. Right into the ring of light that shone down on the sitting Suns somewhat smaller than average form. The whole situation felt incredibly strange, his apparent doppelgangers presence only amplifying that feeling. Not to mention that when he looked into the other Suns eyes, he found no warmth. His steely gaze seemed to make the room feel colder. That cold feeling sending a chill down his spinal struts, but his frigid eyes aside, his face bore the expression of satisfaction.

The seated Sun furrowed his brow. Did... he know him?

“I’m glad to see you’re awake. I was starting to wonder if your processing unit would be responsive after all that.”

The smaller Sun blinked, confused. “W-What?”

“You were gone for quite a long time. I was starting to wonder if your system just didn’t want to wake up. Would’ve been a waste of effort if you hadn’t.” This stranger spoke so casually and matter-o-factly, as though Sun understood what was going on when he didn’t. He just kept staring. Who is this? What’s he got to do with- wait.

“Where’s Moon? Eclipse? Where are my brothers?” He asked, frantically looking around as if the darkness would disperse and reveal their location. But no such thing happened.

The strange Sun, Dark Sun, just placed a hand on this Sun’s shoulder, a motion that might have been comforting in a normal situation, but sadly it gave off no such feeling here. “I told you; he isn’t here. Neither is... Eclipse.”

“Did... did something happen to them? Who are you? Why-”

“I know you must have a lot of questions. But I promise you, I am here to help. Well, I already did given that you’re fully functioning now.” Dark Sun said as he gave him a halfhearted grin. But Sun didn’t feel any warmth from it. No comfort. Just that same coldness that seemed symbiotic with Dark Suns existence. But it was dawning on him what he was implying.

“...It... it didn’t work?” He whispered as he slumped back down. His mind started to race, all he could think about was that if he had survived then it meant- “I killed him?”

Dark Sun raised an eyebrow before giving him a rather quizzical hum; wordlessly asking for him to elaborate on that.

“Eclipse... is he-?”

“Oh.” Dark Sun suddenly chuckled, as if bemused. “No. He’s alive and well.”

Sun immediately let a relieved sigh, a small smile returning to his face. Though it faltered when he looked back to the other. Both knowing the next question, it hung silently in the air before the other Sun could speak it.

“Where’s Mo-” He didn’t get to finish asking, as Dark Sun swiftly reached down, grabbed his hands and brought him to his feet.

“Now is not the time to dive into all that.” He seemed to chide. “You want to see Eclipse, don’t you? Your brother?” The other Sun blinked rapidly, his muddled mind still trying to process what his doppelganger was saying. But once it truly registered, he nodded promptly.

“I-I do!”

With a sudden snap of Dark Sun’s fingers, the rest of the lights in the room turned on. Revealing to the smaller Sun that this definitely wasn’t parts and service. It… it looked more like a room that belonged in some sort of dark citadel or a castle.

Dark Sun didn’t let his guests attention linger on where he was for more than a few seconds. He kept his grip on confused animatronics shoulder and began guiding him out of what was actually his laboratory and toward the destination he planned for. Sun stumbled a bit along the way while trying to match the other’s quick and steady pace. Though he felt his balance was a bit off, the longer he was on his feet the more he felt his stability return. Eventually helping him to keep up with his mysterious companion, rather than just be dragged along.

“I’m sure that you have realized by now, that you were presumed dead.” Dark Sun stated as though this fact was a simple one and not one of deep, terrible significance. His guest actually stopped walking for a moment as this registered that this stranger even knew. He began to tense, wringing his hands in a nervous manner. He had indeed known the risks of what he had agreed to.

“I’m impressed you chose to agree to such a procedure and accepted all its risks down to your own code. However, we don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

“’We?” Sun glanced at Dark Sun as he was being led into another, even larger room. Although he didn’t really have the chance to get a response as Dark Sun released his grip on him and this Sun stopped walking and just gaped at the sheer size of this place and how its gothic architecture made it look like they had just walked into an ancient cathedral.

“Now then, please step into the circle there.”

Sun finally turned back to Dark Sun, just as he pointed to a large glowing red circular panel in the middle of the room. The smaller Sun swallowed nervously and took several hesitant steps toward it. “Why?”

“You’ll see soon enough. I shouldn’t need to tell you who you’re going to find.” Dark Sun said as he turned toward a nearby pedestal that held a vast array of different buttons and switches and he began to input various commands. “Of course, I’m unsure of how prepared you may be for this. So my apologies in advance if it disorients you.”

The Sun felt a chill, realizing what he meant as he slowly walked into the glowing circle as he had been asked. Only for his legs to suddenly lock up and refuse to move at all once he was inside. Suddenly feeling a wave of fear, he tried to speak up only to find his voice was locked as well. He could only watch as Dark Sun looked up from the console and gave a small wave before pressing one final button.

And then he just wasn’t there...

It was as though the other Sun was suddenly falling forwards at an incredible speed. Colors, shapes and streams of lights rushing past him at a dizzying rate, his light processing overworking and glitching out. There came a moment when he couldn’t see anything-

And then he was in the dark again…

He took a second and let his eyes adjust. Noticing there were speckles of light now. He tried to sit up, the colorful balls he had unknowingly been submerged in shifting and rolling away as he did so. Oh. He was in the ball pit.

He looked around as he managed to stand up and wade out of the ball pit. Everything was so bright... and quiet.

“Hello?”

He didn’t get any response. Was this home? Was... was everything that just happened all real? Did that other Dark Sun mean it when he said that his brothers were alright? He could only look nervously ahead as he cautiously walked around. It seemed odd to him. All of it. He knew his Moon had built a portal in the ball pit. He’d explained how it worked before. Although... he hardly understood it really. Was that somehow how everything had all happened? He’d never gone in before.

Did he black out somehow instead?

He slowly took in his surroundings. It... it looked a lot like home. Isn’t it home?

Although he suddenly noticed that the barrels weren’t stacked properly. Oh no, he’d never leave this so messy. He wasted no time to start doing something that came to him as natural as breathing was to a human. Cleaning…

---------- AND THE FIRST PART WAS WRITTENNN for a while actually just forgot to edit something and post it lol BIG SHOUT OUT TO @thorns-and-rosewings for proofreading and adding descriptions!! ;0; truly i am grateful!! Anyway the first part to my Daydream Intro Fic! He's refered to as Sun here for now. I got him and solar meeting next. (Which had to be rewritten) Writing is hard. But its Happening!

Idk how im gonna write up Servant Moon but we'll get there when we get there. Maybe just thru various doodles ill bombard people.

[kuncitizen]

If I say your name

Synopsis: You never say his name. Not when you kiss him, not when he’s inside you, not even when you fall apart in his arms. But he keeps coming back, like he’s trying to fuck the ghost of someone else out of your mouth. And you let him pretend.

Pairing: Gojo satoru x reader, Getou suguru x reader

W.c. 2.1k

Content. MDNI fem!reader, friends with benefits, oral (fem rec.), desperate longing, first aid as foreplay, deeply intimate and charged, teasing, slow domination, possibly unrequited feelings, heavy feelings, whispered dirty talk, breath control, abandonment, tangled bodies, body worship, finger lickin' good (literally), very slight hand fetish, P in V, raw want, penetration, lingering touches, god i cried while writing this, I don't fuck around with the angst people

A/N This might be my mangum opus

The water runs red at your feet.

It’s not the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last. You stare down at the stream as if it might speak back. As if it might carry the parts of you that feel loose, wrong, splintered, down the drain with it.

It’s not enough.

Not hot enough, not loud enough, not clean enough.

The steam chokes the air, curls around your head like a noose. Your ribs throb where the cursed spirit’s claws tore through you, angry, precise, almost tender in that cruel, intimate way pain sometimes is.

You don’t flinch. Not when the sting cuts across broken skin, not when your fingers shake while washing dried blood off your neck. Not even when your own reflection in the fogged-up mirror looks like a stranger.

You lean your forehead against the tile. It’s cool and solid, something to anchor to.

Don’t cry. You tell yourself. You haven’t in years, and you won’t start now. Not over this. Not over what it means to come back alive but still feel like you’ve left something behind.

You don’t have to look. You can feel him through the door.

He’s there—waiting, like he always is. Like he was made to wait for you, even if you were never coming back.

Not because you called, not because there’s anything left to say. Only because that’s what he always does.

Gojo stays quietly, without asking why. As if this is a part of his routine. Just another night.

When you walked in earlier—limping, silent, dried blood streaked down your arm—he didn’t ask questions.

The way his eyes lingered, though, said more than enough.

He didn’t ask what happened, didn’t pry or crack a joke to lighten the air. He just opened the door, nodded once, and offered the shower. Left clean clothes and a towel folded neatly on the sink.

Gojo now sat outside the bathroom, legs stretched across the cold marble, the chill seeping through the fabric of his pants. His back rested against the wall, shoulders tense, hands slack in his lap. Like a sentry at a gate, guarding something fragile.

Guarding you.

Like he’s not drowning in worst-case scenarios behind that white, blindfolded smile he saves for everyone but you.

Like he’s not trapped in an endless loop of guilt, whispering blame into the cracks of his own mind for not being there when you needed him.

Like his chest didn’t tighten, sharply and unbearably, when you walked in looking like that.

Gojo doesn’t need to see to know.

You pull the shower knob, and twist it off, the rush of water dying along with it. You’re left in silence, wet hair clinging to your cheeks. Blood is still smeared faintly on your thigh. You dry off with slow, mechanical movements, like you're not really there.

You pull on the shirt he left behind—soft cotton, loose and multiple sizes too big, falling past your thighs. It smells like him. Citrusy, woody, and something quieter beneath it, something warm and sweet. Almost safe.

You hate that it makes your chest tighten.

You open the door. Steam spills into the hallway like breath, curling around your figure.

Gojo finally lifts his head.

He’s sitting against the wall, long legs stretched out, hands clasped in his lap. He’s not smiling, but his features soften when he sees you. That’s worse somehow.

“Sorry,” you say, voice rough. “Used your shampoo.”

His lips twitch. A small sound escapes him, half-laugh, half-sigh. “Scandalous. You’ll smell better than me.”

You shrug,

And even the small movement stings. You pretend it doesn’t. But his gaze drops to the way you flinch and stays there too long.

“Sit,” he says, voice quiet now. “Let me see.”

You don’t move.

He doesn’t say it again, just waits. That’s the thing with Gojo. He never forces, never demands. Just offers—like someone who knows what it’s like to have everything taken.

And you trust him.

So you sit at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping gently beneath your weight.

The towel sits on your shoulders, the only thing between you and everything he might see. His shirt clutched in your hand but not on yet. Vulnerability like this should feel cold, but with him, it never does.

Gojo kneels in front of you, eyes drawn to the fading red mark where the blood used to pool.

Ocean eyes track every inch of your skin, slow and careful, as he snaps open the first aid kit with a tenderness that doesn’t belong in moments like these—like touching you is sacred somehow, even when you're wounded up.

You wonder if he’s always like this when something feels like it might fall apart.

He peels back the gauze, and your breath stutters in your throat, not from the pain, but from how gentle he is. Like you’re not someone who killed tonight. Like you’re not someone who nearly didn’t come back.

"Sorry,” he murmurs when you wince, but doesn’t pull away, just slows down. His fingers brush your skin like they’re afraid to stay, but afraid to let go.

You bite your tongue.

The silence stretches. Not awkward—just heavy.

He wraps you carefully, methodically, as if each turn of the bandage is a promise:

I’m here. You’re here. Let’s start from that.

You don’t realize your hand is shaking until Gojo's slender hand covers it, warm and grounding.

“You should’ve called,” he says softly. “I would’ve come.”

You stare at the floor. The floor is easy. The floor doesn’t ask questions.

“You were busy.”

“Doing what?” His voice is sharper now, but only just. “Organizing my sock drawer?”

That wasn’t what he actually wanted to say. But the words he did mean to say hung there anyway,

the absurd idea that anything else could ever matter more than you.

A laugh tries to claw its way out of your throat, but it dies halfway. Your lips twitch anyway.

He finishes wrapping your side, his hand lingering for a second longer than it needs to.

He looks up to meet your eyes.

“You okay?”

You nod automatically. “Yeah.”

He holds your gaze, but doesn’t blink.

“Liar.”

And for a brief second, you want to tell him everything.

The screams. The split-second decision. The moment your cursed technique didn’t activate fast enough and you thought you would never make it out alive.

But instead, you say, “Thanks.”

Like he’s a stranger who held a door open. Like he didn’t always hold the fragments of yourself that you gave him together in the dark.

And he lets you.

Because he knows pushing would make you fold in on yourself like a dying star. And he’d rather sit in the orbit of your silence, than risk you disappearing altogether.

But when you stand, the towel slipping from your shoulders as you reach for the shirt, his fingers twitch with restraint.

But he looks away, as if his hands haven’t already memorized every inch of you.

You dress in silence.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His shirt slips off your body as easily as it was put on, crumpling to the floor like it never mattered.

You don’t say his name when you pull him in by the collar, mouths a breath apart.

You don’t need to. He’s already leaning in like he’s starved for something only you can give.

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt like a habit, not a want. You pull, and he lets you. You never ask, he never makes you.

His shirt slid off with ease, the soft linen tracing his skin as it dropped, revealing the contours of his well-built torso.

The lights are low, pooling soft shadows across the sheets. The air between you hums with warmth, thick with the scent of soap, shampoo, and the faint iron of blood that lingers even after a shower.

Gojo doesn’t speak—not with words. Just steps into your space, his palm skimming up your side, tracing heat into your skin. One hand cradles the base of your neck, the other settles at your waist, fingers flexing like he’s holding back something ravenous.

He walks you back slowly, until the your knees bump the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

He dips his head to your level, lips grazing the shell of your ear in a ghost of a kiss.

“Lie back," Gojo murmurs, voice low and sinful.

You fall back, the mattress dipping beneath you with a soft, yielding hush.

He follows slowly, hands braced on either side of your head, hovering over your figure close enough for his breath to fan your skin. His eyes trail over you in a slow drag of mischief.

You shift, hips tilting just enough to invite him closer. But he doesn’t take the bait.

Not yet.

Instead, his gaze lingers, lazy and hungry. One hand trails up the side of your thigh, fingers barely grazing the soft flesh. Not enough to satisfy, just enough to tease.

He presses a kiss to your palm—soft, reverent—then slowly takes your fingers between his lips. His tongue moves deliberately, swirling around each digit in slow, wet passes, before sucking them in deeper, like he’s imagining something far filthier.

You feel the pull of it low in your stomach, heat coiling, breath catching in your throat. The obscene sound of it echoes softly in the quiet room.

Gojo's eyes are locked to yours, heavy-lidded and dark with intent, like he’s reading every reaction on your face and filing it away just to use it against you later.

He doesn’t stop until your fingers glisten, slick with his attention. He releases your fingers with a soft, wet pop— lips slightly parted.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur.

Gojo smirks, feigning innocence “Like what?”

Like you’re already undressed. Like he’s savoring the wait.

His hands finally settle on your hips, achingly languid. He maps the expanse of your skin with his fingers like it’s something sacred.

His lips ghost down your jaw, to the edge of your throat in quiet presses of heat.

Gojo drags his mouth along your collarbone, leaving open-mouthed kisses that linger and bruise. His breath stutters against your skin, starved, desperate to memorize the taste of you.

His hand slides beneath the hem of your shirt—his shirt—fingers spreading across your stomach, rough yet painfully gentle. The shirt is pushed up inch by inch, baring more of you to the cool air, to his gaze that burns hotter than anything else.

His touch turns firmer. Hands framing your waist, thumbs dipping into the sensitive curve of your hips.

“You’re not shaking,” he says, eyes flicking up to yours. “That’s new.”

“I’m not scared.”

Gojo grins, “You should be.”

He presses a kiss just below your navel, slow and open-mouthed, eyes filled to the brim with lust.

Then another, now much lower.

You gasp when his teeth scrape lightly over your skin, a teasing drag that sends a sharp, electric jolt up your spine. He smirks against you, as if he felt it too.

“Still not scared?” he murmurs, breath hot where his mouth lingers.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because his hands are already slipping lower, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your underwear, dragging the fabric down with agonizing slowness, like he’s unwrapping something precious. Like he wants to watch you come undone one breath at a time.

His gaze doesn’t leave your face as he drops to his elbows between your thighs, spreading them with a touch that’s patient and hungry all at once.

"Look at you," Gojo breathes. "So fucking pretty like this."

His tongue drags a hot, deliberate line up your inner thigh, and your whole body shivers in response.

And when he finally leans in, when his mouth replaces his hands and he groans like he’s the one unraveling, it’s not soft anymore.

You sigh—tired, soft, worn down to your bones—and he hears it like a plea.

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. You never tell him, and he never asks. All the pieces of him you won’t name.

His tongue drags in slow strokes, deliberate and unhurried, like he’s tracing his name into your skin. Like he’s whispering I’m here, I’ve got you, again and again, until the ache in your chest begins to loosen its grip.

He groans against you, the sound guttural and low, like your taste ruins him.

Gojo makes you feel good because it’s the only way he knows how to be close to you. The only way he can believe, for just a second, that you might need him like he needs you.

His hands press firmly into your hips, holding you steady. But his thumbs stroke gently across your skin, coaxing softness where there’s only been sharp edges.

You’re trembling by the time he pulls back, lips slick, eyes solely on you. He licks your release off of the corner of his lips with a flick of his tongue.

His thumbs draw lazy circles into your thighs, but there’s nothing lazy in the way he’s looking at you now.

“Still with me?” he asks, voice rough, almost hoarse.

You nod, barely in control of yourself from the ecstasy.

Gojo's mouth curves smugly. But before you can collect yourself, he’s crawling up your body again, kissing his way up your stomach, over the bandages he’d wrapped so carefully just hours ago.

He’s already at his belt, fingers working the buckle without urgency—like he’s got all the time in the world.

His fingers trail between your legs, not teasing anymore, just grounding, pressing into the slick heat like he owns it. Like he’s staking a claim.

You writhe underneath him at the sensation. Gojo catches your hips with both hands, pinning you down with maddening restraint.

“Patience,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours, the tip of him nudging right where you need him most. “Gonna take my time with you.”

He sinks in slow—inch by aching inch—until you’re full of him, until you can’t breathe around the stretch and the way his breath shudders out against your neck.

Gojo moves finally, deliberate and devastating.

Every thrust drawing out soft, broken sounds you didn’t know you could make. Every drag of his hips angled to ruin you. To memorize you all over again, but deeper this time, deeper than just skin against skin.

Like he doesn’t just want your body, he wants the parts of you no one’s ever seen, the parts no one's ever dared to touch.

You don’t even know when your fingers found his hair, only that you’re fisting it now, pulling him closer like your body knows you’ll fall apart if he puts even an inch of distance between you.

His breath is ragged against your jaw. You feel it more than you hear it, those quiet, shattered sounds he only ever makes with you, like he’s coming undone piece by piece and wants you to see it.

You arch beneath him, the air catching in your throat when he finds the spot you don’t guard as tightly. The way you move—like it’s a release, like he’s something you can finally feel—makes his heart stutter.

And when you gasp in a haze of pleasure, “Don’t stop,”

It sounds close enough to stay.

So he does.

He fucks you like he’s trying to make you forget every man before him.

Like he's trying to carve himself into you.

Like if he gets it right, you’ll stop thinking about ghosts of the past and see the body pressed to yours, trembling with want and something far more painful.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, cursing softly, your name wrapped around every gasp like it’s a prayer and a promise both.

"Fuck—" it slips out against your throat, raw and low. "You feel like—"

But he doesn’t finish. Maybe he can’t.

Maybe the way your hips meet his, the way your nails drag down his back, is enough to steal the words from his tongue.

You shift beneath him, legs wrapping tight around his waist, pulling him deeper, harder.

He groans like it breaks him. His pace stutters, his control frays, and his hand finds yours—interlacing your fingers above your head, pinning them to the mattress as he drives into you like he’s trying to brand the feeling of you into his bones.

He learns your breathing. The shape of your pleasure. The things you murmur when you forget to hold back. You fall apart in his hands like he’s the only one who’s ever tried to put you back together gently.

And still, you don’t say his name.

Not his.

Not Gojo.

Not Satoru.

No matter how hard he tries to make you feel like he's the best you've ever had, you never say his name. Not even when your bodies are pressed so close they almost become one.

But just before you tip over the edge, his hand cradles your face like you’re something breakable, like this is holy—and he watches every flicker of you coming apart beneath him like he never wants to forget a second of it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Later, when it’s over and your breath is soft and steady, your body a warm, perfect weight draped across his like you were always meant to fit there, he lies still.

Gojo's eyes are on the ceiling, searching for an answer he already knows. But he still looks, like maybe if he stares long enough, the truth might change.

You sleep like it meant nothing.

Like he didn’t just pour every unspoken confession into your skin, hoping you’d feel what he can never bring himself to say. Like he isn’t still wide awake, waiting for something you’ll never give. Like he didn’t break a little more when you exhaled against his throat and didn’t say his name.

Because when you do speak, half-asleep, voice slurred with dreams, it’s not his name that tumbles out.

“…Suguru…”

Soft, barely there, whispered like a secret.

You say it like it’s a chant, like it's home.

It guts him. Not all at once, but slowly, a twist in his gut that blooms into something bitter and familiar. The kind of ache that settles and stays, quiet and cruel.

The feeling gnaws at Gojo relentlessly, but he doesn’t move.

Doesn’t breathe too hard, like that might shift the world and remind you who’s really lying next to you. Because the moment he speaks, this illusion ends, and he’s nothing again.

You don’t wake up. And he doesn’t wake you. He lies there, bones tense under your softness, heart thudding out a rhythm you’ll never hear. He stays quiet, clinging to the silence like it’s the last thing keeping you beside him.

He strokes your hair, soft and careful, like you’ll vanish if he touches you too hard. Presses a kiss to the crown of your head, lingering there, breathing in the pieces of you he’ll never get to keep.

He inhales you like it might burn him clean. He doesn’t beg, doesn’t speak. Just folds the ache into his ribs and lets it hollow him out.

Gojo lies to himself, over and over, that it’s enough to hold you, even if your heart was never his to begin with. Because if this ends, he loses the only place you let him pretend you love him.

And he’d rather ache like this forever than wake up beside someone else.

Taglist is OPEN!!!

[johamfated]

"I've always been somewhat out of place." Harry replied softly, blowing on his tea before taking a sip. The warmth flushing his system was a nice welcome after being outdoors.

"You could say I've learned to blend in. Though, the company helps." He gestures to Dumbledore with a smile. "That's one thing I always appreciated about Ron and Hermione. They never really saw me as the Boy Who Lived, just Harry. I mean, sure, the first time we met there was the whole, oh my God your Harry Potter!

But that soon went away, Ron realised I that he had somewhat of an advantage, being from the wizarding community, and he did his best to see that I fit in. Even shared his family with me. He has five brothers and a sister. And his mum and dad took me in as their own.

And then there's Hermione. Being Muggleborn, she knew as much about the wizarding world as I did." He chuckled, "Well, I say that. She'd read up on everything there was to know. Not that I hadn't read a few things, but she'd really done her homework. So, aside from knowing I was famous, she wasn't exactly starstruck.

Not like Ginny, Ron's sister, my girlfriend. She couldn't speak properly around me for years." Harry grinned, thinking back to the time they'd met at the Burrow before second year. "She admitted to me in year 6, when we started dating, that Hermione had told her to chill out, see some other guys, and let me get to know the real her. Smart girl Hermione, cause Ginny is amazing. I've never seen someone pull off hexes like she can. And she's brave and strong and smart and actually really funny. It just took me a while to see that."

He stopped, realising he'd been rambling on, even though he hadn't actually intended on doing so. "What Im trying to say is; that no matter the situation you find yourself in, however mad or strange, it helps to have the right people by your side. And you, like you in my world, have never treated me any different." He halted, realising that wasn't quite true, but he just shrugged it off. "You, too, saw me for me. And while you might have given me leeway in certain matters, it was because of what was happening around me, rather than because of who I am. Sort of. It's hard to explain. I just knew you cared for me, Harry, not the Chosen One. And I know that's what you see too, cause you dont really know any different."

@regretismyconstantcompanion

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

[ashthesalamipiece]

Can you do another dad katsuki x mom reader!! I love these sm!! Their daughter who’s 11 months old, randomly got up and started walking for the first time, katsuki and reader were just chilling on the couch watching tv but still making sure she wasn’t choking on any toys, but they see her doing it on her own, soft dad Bakugo..☹️💗

First Steps

(Soft Dad Bakugo x Mom Reader — 11-month-old daughter)

It was one of those rare quiet evenings.

You were curled into the corner of the couch, legs draped over Katsuki’s lap, his warm hand resting comfortably on your shin. The TV played some mindless cooking show neither of you were really watching—more background noise than entertainment. The real show was happening on the living room floor.

Your daughter, Emi, all chubby cheeks and drool-streaked onesie, was sitting in the middle of her play mat. She babbled to herself as she gnawed on a plush carrot, a little pile of baby toys surrounding her like treasure.

Katsuki glanced down at her between bites of popcorn. “She better not be chewing on the squeaky duck again. She choked on that once.”

“She’s fine,” you smiled. “She’s got the carrot this time.”

He grunted, unconvinced, but didn’t get up. His thumb started drawing lazy circles on your leg again.

Minutes passed like that. Peaceful. Easy.

Then—Katsuki froze.

“Oi.”

You sat up a bit. “What?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes were wide, locked on the little girl who had just—without a sound—pushed herself up from her hands and knees. Her little fingers curled into fists at her sides, shaky legs trying to balance. And then—one wobbly step forward. Then another.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, sitting bolt upright. “She’s walking.”

Katsuki blinked like he didn’t believe it. “She’s… what the hell—” He leaned forward, voice soft and hoarse. “You serious right now, kid?”

Emi stumbled once, caught herself on her fat feet, and kept going—three full steps before gravity claimed her. She plopped back onto her diapered butt with a triumphant squeal.

Neither of you moved.

Then, Katsuki stood. Quietly. Almost reverently. Like if he was too loud, he’d scare off the moment.

He crouched beside her, face soft in a way it never was around anyone but you two.

“You walked,” he said, awe bleeding through his voice like sunlight. “You didn’t even crawl, you little show-off.”

Emi looked up at him with a proud little puffed-out chest, hands clapping in excitement.

He scooped her up carefully, holding her against his chest like she was made of glass. “You walked to your toys, not even to me,” he muttered, but his smile said he didn’t mind one bit. “Tch. Bet you’re gonna run before you even turn one.”

“She’s got your stubborn streak,” you said, smiling through the warmth welling up behind your eyes.

Katsuki looked at you over Emi’s fluffy head of hair. “She’s got your heart, though.”

The baby babbled something unintelligible and leaned forward to drool on her dad’s cheek. He didn’t flinch. Just laughed softly, arms secure around her tiny frame.

“We’re gonna have to baby-proof everything now, huh,” he said. “She’s mobile.”

“You’re gonna chase her around all day.”

He scoffed, but his hand cradled the back of her head protectively. “Damn right I am.”

And for the rest of the evening, Emi stayed glued to her dad’s chest, occasionally trying to wiggle back down to show off her newfound skill.

And Bakugo Katsuki—the same man who used to blow up his classmates for bumping into him—stood there with spit-up on his shoulder, heart in his throat, and the softest smile you’d ever seen.

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter thirteen: escape

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

previous part | next part coming soon

oh yeah, i made a spotify playlist for this <3

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you can caleb make an escape from the meeting.

word count: 10k words

warnings: please, please, PLEASE read the trigger warnings before proceeding. lightly proofread...it ain't perfect! i wrote this in one go so...have fun! :D

author's note: ahhh okay so this one is a little heavy on the murder part but hey!!!! the bad stuff is over!!!! for the most part :D back to our regularly scheduled programming of caleb and reader being messy as fuck!

oh and remember...the narrative isn't completely objective!

trigger warning: death/murder, bodily harm, gun violence, okay maybe there's a kiss or two, but mainly violence, and blood, and okay there's like a pretty bad death in there on caleb's part

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @lemonwithstupidity

Being dead has its perks.

You get the chance to get away from life for a bit, being submerged beneath the ice cold sea — well, that’s what it feels like — before feeling your body thaw out from the life returning to your body. The downside, though, is that it is you stuck inside your own mind, your brain trying to make up for the fact that you’re dead and not breathing.

You know that saying that your life flashes before your eyes before a person dies? That’s what happens to you except every single time you are in this state, it is a different memory that you are forced to relive over and over again. You’ve seen it all from your first conscious memory as a child — your fourth birthday where your mother posed you in front of her garden in the backyard of your home — all the way to your less than ideal high school graduation where a certain someone tried to steal your chords and accolades before he was dragged away by his own family.

This time, the memory feels warm on your skin. It feels like a childhood blanket that’s been draped over your body on a cool summer day. It’s warm and the breeze is nice and gentle, the blanket protecting you from the last bit of chill in the air.

Except this time, when you open your eyes, you find yourself inside of your high school’s library. You sit up against a bookshelf, the wooden shelves pushing into your back, jutted out books taking their turn poking into your flesh. The book is heavy in your hands. You cross your legs, your backpack sitting beside you. The pages are crip between your fingertips, your hair falling into your face.

You brush your hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear, clearing your throat as the tingle from the bullet Caleb put into your brain begins to heal itself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Zayne asks from beside you. You turn your face to the side, a small smile on spreading across your lips. You nod, slowly closing the book that sits on your lap.

“Yeah! Good luck with your class,” you say.

A small smile tugs up the corner of his lips before it falls. The dark haired man nods his head at you, his hazel eyes darting away for just a brief moment before he disappears down the library aisle. You look away from the empty space that Zayne once inhabited and look out the window. It is a warm and sunny day in Linkon, most of the days are like this in the city, especially during the springtime.

A butterfly crosses the window. Its orange wings catch your attention just like it did all those years ago. The soft smile remains on your face, your fingers slipping back into the pages of your book, opening it up to the page where you left off. You and Zayne had teamed up for an assignment together for Mrs. Thompson’s English class. The book was well over a hundred years old and spoke about the effect of selfishness and vanity and how it decays the soul and tortures one’s mind and actions.

A sigh leaves your lips. You close the book and your eyes, rolling your head back against the bookshelf.

“Whatcha readin’?”

You open one eye and see Caleb standing before you. He wears his usual cocky smile, one that your heart used to flutter at the sight of, and his backpack hangs off of his shoulder, only one of the straps attached to his body. His dark brown locks of hair are messy, slightly sweaty. His uniform is messy, his tie loose and hanging around his neck. If you had to guess, he just came back from his morning basketball practice. You push your lips to the side, unable to control how you verbally respond to him or what your body does.

You are reliving your memory, after all, and there is no changing the past no matter how hard you try.

“Nothing,” you quietly respond, voice just above a whisper. “Just the book for Mrs. Thompson’s class.”

“Ah, nice,” he steps towards you, dropping his backpack to the ground. You watch with a close eye, your heart rapidly beating inside of your chest just like it did the day this happened. Caleb sits beside you, his arm grazing yours. You can feel his body heat, the way he so casually places himself at your side, acting like he belongs there. “You know, I haven’t been able to get into it. Her quizzes always stump me, too.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you shrug, barely glancing over at him, “you always do.”

The corners of your book are frayed, the cover weathered. You got it from a used bookshop. It was tucked away in one of the back corners, hidden from the world. It felt like fate the way you happened upon it. It helped, too, that the book was already annotated, helping you with digesting and fully understanding the novel. It was cool to see this mysterious person’s take on the plot and characters as well. A different perspective is always nice to have.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Neither dare to break the silence, the soft sound of footsteps and muffled voices from the nearby hallway float into your area. The nearby window is open. The scent of fresh cut grass is prominent but it doesn’t bother you. Birds sing their songs. Your book remains closed in your lap.

“Were you with him?” Caleb asks his question so casually. His purple eyes flick to your book, memorizing the way you hold onto the cover, almost like you are protective of it.

“Be specific,” you respond.

“Zayne,” Caleb responds.

There is an unspoken tension in the air. It has always been there between you two. It’s followed you around in your childhood. You’ve always felt it, lingering the background. It’s the way your eyes always found each other whenever you entered a room. It’s the way he always made sure to hold the door open for you whenever your families went out for a shared dinner. It’s the way he brought you a butterfly figurine as an apology for leaving you behind. It’s the way the two of you never spoke of a love that blossomed between your hearts due to the dear that the world will not be so accepting of the bond you hold.

“Yes,” you slowly nod and swipe your tongue over your teeth, choosing your words carefully. “He was helping me with the symbolism of the book and the portrait.” You don’t know why you feel so tense, why you feel as if time is standing still in your memory. From the corner of your eye, you watch Caleb slowly nod his head.

The silence turns uncomfortable. Ugly. Compromising. You feel exposed to the man you have loved since you were children. You hate it.

The real you — present day you — know exactly what is coming. His question. There is nothing you can do to avoid it. To avoid the discomfort of your own decisions, the regret that you have secretly held inside of your chest for years as you allowed the corpse of your inner child to decay and rot at the foot of an apple tree.

“Did you mean it?”

Your body runs cold. Stiff. You do not look Caleb in the eyes. Instead, you seek refuge in looking at the book in your own hands. Perhaps your own hidden portrait is decaying somewhere, showing the ugly manifestations of your own vanity and selfishness for the way you so desperately wish to avoid this confrontation with Caleb.

“Did you mean it when you said you never wanted to see me again?”

You finally look at Caleb. His purple eyes are glossy. His Adam’s apple slightly bobs up and down. His voice was hoarse, dry. He struggled to get the words out. Your heart twists inside of your chest. A sharp pain overtakes it as your head throbs, the organ slowly rebuilding itself.

You wish you can remain silent. You wish that you can avoid answering his question, to avoid all of the pain and angst that has struck you down when you were a teenager. Your eyes sting. They feel hot as the invisible rope around your neck tightens.

“Yes,” you breathe out, shaky. You hold onto your book, bending the bound pages, the book groaning from twisting the spine in one direction and the exposed pages in the other. “I meant every single word.”

No. No you don’t. Don’t say that, your voice screams, echoing off the walls of your inner consciousness. You love him! Don’t let him go!

“What did I…” Caleb clears his throat. He inches closer to you. You let him. Your biceps touch. His skin runs hot while yours runs cold, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. His bottom lip trembles. “What did I do?”

You rip your gaze away form his. A single tear rolls down your cheek. You watch Caleb’s hand reach out, presumably to wipe it away, but hesitate, drawing back to his body. He lets out a quiet sigh. Caleb hangs his head beside you, his fists balling on his lap.

“Tell me. Tell me what I need to do to get back into your life,” Caleb firmly speaks. You close your eyes and shake your head. “Yes,” he combats your movement, “yes, please, tell me.”

His voice is desperate. Pleading. His own misery now on full display. You know now that he was just as broken as you were. Nights spent in bed with Caleb, him holding you so close to him, face buried in the back of your neck, whispering that he will never let you go again.

Oh, the irony.

“Caleb…you…no, I’m sorry,” you tremble at his side.

Caleb breathes your name out. You ignore it. You always did after this point.

“You need to let me go,” you hold back a sob. 

Your body shakes from the sudden urge to cry. You try your best to hold it back but the tears begin to flood down your cheeks. You stand up, reaching down to grab your backpack. Caleb looks up at you, his eyes glossy and pleading — begging — for you to look at him.

But you can’t. You can’t bring your face to face the reality that you have created, one you made thinking that after you graduate you will never see this man ever again. Oh how wrong you were.

“Hey,” Caleb’s voice is more demanding, a bit on the whiny side. “Will you please look at me? Can you at least—hey.”

Caleb stands. His fingers curl around your wrist. You had just taken a step away from him but he drew you right back in, keeping you at an arm’s distance. Caleb’s touch is searing hot, burning into your skin. You close your eyes, your backpack hanging off of one shoulder. Your free hand reaches up to wipe your tears away. You stare at the library exit, unable to bring yourself to look at the man whose heart you just obliterated.

“Will you just…tell me what I did wrong,” Caleb’s voice tingles the back of your ears.

Your once tense arm feels loose, the teenager closing the distance. His fingers slip into yours. The final nail in his coffin. You suck in a shaky breath, your lungs feeling like they are on fire. A piece of you wishes they actually were. Maybe then the emotional pain you feel will finally be outweighed by something that you hope will cleanse your soul.

“It’s not something you’ve done,” you whisper. Caleb hangs onto every word. You finally turn around, eyes meeting his. Slowly, you move your hand from his, letting it retreat back to the safety of your body. “It’s what you didn’t do.”

Caleb shudders. The gun is heavy in his hand, your blood spraying across the cement floor. Your body goes rigid, tensing up as the grey drowns out from your eyes, returning to their original color. Guilt twists inside of his chest. He watches as the gray color in your eyes fade, returning to its original shade. His heart plummets inside of his chest. Caleb forces his face to remain as stoic as possible, knowing that if he shows even the slightest amount of emotion, that both him and you will remain the Professor’s prisoners.

Your lifeless body falls back with a thud. There is a gentle cracking sound, most likely the back of your skull hitting the hardened cement floor. Caleb gulps, swallow what is left of the spit inside if his mouth. He turns to look at the room.

Their eyes are on you, not him, watching as you fall.

He wishes that he could pick up your body, to handle it with the care and grace that you deserve. You shouldn’t have to be subjected to experimentation, to be the Professor’s lab rat for all of those who wish to see.

He mourns your death. He knows that you will be back soon. But the pain you felt? All of that was real. The microexpression from your flinch, the recognition that the end was near. It happened in the blink of an eye, the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head before you fell.

Caleb should have used his Evol to catch you, to gently place you on the ground. You deserve as much respect as the highest ranking officer in this room.

“Good, X-02,” the Professor speaks.

Caleb lowers the gun. His amethyst eyes remain on your body. Your blood is dark, darker than usual or of that he has seen before. He knows that his looks the same, a signature that the Professor likes to leave behind just in case he needs to be able to identify just how hard his assets have been hit.

Caleb takes a step to the side. He places the gun on the table with the muzzle aimed at Professor Lucius. His eyes fixate on the elder man. His white hair is neatly made, giving off the image of a perfect person. It makes Caleb sick to his stomach.

The Colonel places his hands behind his back. His heels click together. In one fluid motion, Caleb makes his way back to the General, taking his place behind the man in authority. The General shoots a quick look to Caleb. The older man’s jaw clenches, brows knitted together, face hardened. He is shocked and yet his first move is to look towards Caleb.

Is it to see if his perfect soldier will flinch? Will Caleb show a crack in his seemingly impenetrable armor?

No. Caleb won’t give them the satisfaction.

“In just a short while, V-03 will be up and running again,” Professor Lucius says.

Caleb silently sucks in a breath, his ears heating from anger. It angers him to know that the Professor refers to you as a machine, something that people can bend to their will, instead of like the human being you are.

“How long will it take?” one of the men at the table speaks up. They stand from their chairs and the attention of the room moves back to your lifeless body.

Caleb glances in your direction. The table shields your body from his vision, showing just the strands of your hair and the pool of blood that seeps from your head from one side of the table’s corner to where your feet stick out on the other.

Agony rips through his body. His hands grow clammy from behind his leather gloves, his steady heartbeat loud in his ears.

He waits, eyes remaining on you. A flinch. A twitch. Any kind of movement. A sign that you truly are still alive and will wake up instead of being condemned to a fate away from him.

No…he won’t let it happen. Caleb will do everything in his power to bring you back to life, to save you from the brink of total decay, to bring life back into your eyes instead of them being grayed out for all to see. 

“Soon. Be patient. You will see the power that she holds, a power that I will bestow onto your armies,” the Professor’s voice echoes down the large aircraft hangar. His eyes remain on Caleb. Steady and sure, ready for his rebellious experiment to break at any given moment.

“What if she doesn’t wake up?” another man asks. “What if there is a limit on how many times she can die?”

“Then she would have been proven useful to show us what the lab rats’ expiration dates are,” the Professor lets out a laugh. The rest of the room follows.

Caleb stays silent.

The minutes tick by as the Professor continues with his presentation on the new type of super solider he has created. Your image is flashed on the screen from behind him. The experiments that the Professor has done unto you displayed for all to see. Burning, poison, drugged with a multitude of chemicals such as arsenic and valium, all to see how the human body reacts, your purpose to serve both the Professor but for the pursuits of science as well.

“She is phenomenal, a true maverick in this new field of study,” Professor Lucius smiles, the yellow of his teeth on full display. “If we apply her Evol to your men, there will nothing that you can’t do.”

“Our enemies are the Fleet and their pursuit of the Deepspace Tunnel,” one of the older, more scarred and disfigured officers speaks up. “We fight against their pursuits. They bring more harm than good,” his eyes move to the General. “This…unofficial meeting feels like a trap. It feels like you are flaunting the Fleet’s new weapons.”

“Isn’t war better if it’s transparent than hidden?” the Professor asks. The man remains silent.

Professor Lucius round the table, slowly approaching the man who sits in his seat. Caleb mimics his movement, circling the table, moving in your direction. Nobody pays attention to him. The Colonel watches you from his peripheral vision. The black soles of your leather boots catches his attention, the whites of your pants specked with residual blood.

“The aspects of war does not matter. What matters is who holds the power and what they are willing to do with it,” Professor Lucius is condescending towards the man, acting as if he has some hidden cards up his sleeve that nobody knows about. “Many men like to think that with knowledge comes power, one would think that I am one of those men.”

“Aren’t you?” Caleb speaks up. The room turns to look at him. His hands remain folded behind his back.

Professor Lucius’ smile falters for a brief moment, a hint of his inner ugliness slipping out. Caleb matches his smile, warm and welcoming, false in its nature but the room doesn’t need to know that. He is one of the Professor’s pets, after all, so shouldn’t he come to his owner’s rescue?

“No,” the Professor responds. “Power sits with those who are willing to do whatever it takes to change the world. It doesn’t matter what their vision is.”

The room fall silent. The Professor gains the men’s attention once again, snapping his fingers. Caleb takes this opportunity to look down at you.

No movement.

He lets out a sigh, his plan going on for much longer than he anticipated. Caleb’s gaze flickers to the side, looking at a nearby control panel. If he had to guess, there are about twenty Ever soldiers stationed here. Viper has to be one of them. He knows this. The snake is slithering around here somewhere. He’ll cause you and him trouble. He needs to be taken out first when the onslaught of soldiers hits.

The Professor speaks but Caleb drowns out his voice. His eyes scan the environment, noting a nearby helicopter on the indoor tarmac. There is a control panel just to the side of it, one that is familiar from his days as a DAA pilot. It was on the air carriers that he landed on, controlling the sequences for takeoff as well as when he landed, the hooks on the ground sunken into their place. The helicopter makes it easy, though, just needing to open the top of the hangar to get you out of here. Liam will be outside ready to keep the other soldiers at by a while the two of you make your escape.

A squeak. Not loud nor was it quiet, just discernible enough for Caleb to pick up on. He glances at you, the black leather boot twitching in its place. His heart lurches at the sight, his hope reignited inside his chest. It looks like the Professor noticed it too.

He walks back to your unconscious body, your chest now slowly rising as falling, your lungs filling themselves with the air they need to survive. Your body regains its color, the life slowly coming back to you.

“Ah,” Professor Lucius begins, his gaze drifting to you. He turns to the room, the smile returning to his face. “She’s awake.”

Caleb stares at the glass tablet. It sits inside of the Professor’s jacket pocket, just an arms reach away, for Caleb to steal away, the control of your body back into his hands instead of the Professor’s. It’s too risky, though. He risks breaking it, which will condemn you to a state of limbo, body turned on but not quite able to receive orders. At least, that’s what the documents from Ever showed him.

Caleb takes a step away, moving backwards but still close enough to be there when you need him to step in. His purple eyes focus on your chest, drifting up to your neck where your throat moves, watching as you swallow the remnants of blood that flooded your skull almost an hour ago. Your eyes remain closed but your torso moves in one fluid yet robotic motion.

You sit up up on the ground. The hole in the middle of your forehead now closed up, a mix of dried and fresh blood sitting in a circle, a literal target just in case the Professor makes him shoot you again. Your eyes finally flutter open, staring straight ahead. They are not gray, no, but instead flooded with the dark red of your blood. Caleb watches as that redness disappears, the white returning along with the vibrant shade of your irises. His heart pounds inside of his chest.

It is a miracle. You are here. Alive. Breathing. His love has finally returned to him.

“V-03,” Professor Lucius speaks, “please return the bullet to X-02.”

Caleb’s eyes slightly widen. He watches as you slowly bring yourself to your feet. You glance behind you at the pool of blood, the lights reflecting off of the thick liquid. You turn back around, your eyes meeting his. A flash of recognition strikes across your face. You remain quiet, though, composed.

It’s him. The man who has haunted you in both your sleep and in death. Constant memories of you two kept you company while you were being held hostage. In some of them, you found solace, while in others you could feel nothing but anger and resentment towards the man. Your nostrils flare as you huff out a breath of air.

Your heart yearns for him, a sliver of your mind wishing to sink into the safety of his embrace, to have him protect you. Your mind, though, screams at you to run away, to put as much distance between you as him as possible.

A third part of your consciousness splits from the other two. An unreasonable fracture that stems from your body constantly having to heal itself in desperate times of need. Fight or flight seeps into your mind. You are unsure if a spot by Caleb’s side will be one that is safe or one that will bring you nothing but pain and agony.

Your mind is in shambles. All you can feel is pain as your body stitches itself back together. Every nerve ending is reconnected to its rightful place, your fresh skin burning as the stale oxygen of the hangar touches it. Even your eyes feel nothing but pain and suffering as you adjust to the harsh lighting.

Your eye twitches. There is a snap on the inside of your brain, your personality and character shattering. You have unknowingly become a wildcard in this game, a grenade ready to explode at any given moment, taking down as many people as you possible can.

According to the Professor, you’re expendable when he deems it. This is just another way for you to take your ending into your hands instead of allowing a man such as him to write it for you. To Caleb, though, you know that he will do anything in his power to bring you back to him.

Which side will you take? (And who says that the side you choose will be final by the end of the bloodbath?)

You slowly cross the small distance that sits between the two of you. Caleb remains strong in his place. He stands at an arm’s length away from you.

“X-02…your hand.”

Caleb follows the Professor’s command. The black leather of his glove shines beneath the hangar’s harsh white lighting. You hesitate. Unexpectedly, you take another step forward, closing even more of the gap that separates you and Caleb. The tips of his fingers press into your chest, pushing into the thick material of the Farspace Fleet’s uniform. You open your mouth.

Between your teeth sits the metal casing of the bullet that was once filled with protocol energy. It’s silver and your shattered skull has scuffed the metal. You slowly tilt your head forward, releasing the bullet from your teeth, allowing it to fall onto Caleb’s hand.

Your eyes meet. There is something behind your irises that Caleb does not recognize. There familiarity is there but you have…changed. He knows that after everything you have been through that you wouldn’t be the same woman you used to be, but he thought that maybe — just maybe — you would show some warmth towards him.

His fingers curl around the bullet in his hands. The small piece of metal leaves an imprint into his skin.

“I’m getting us out of here,” Caleb whispers.

You don’t respond. Instead, you stay exactly where you are, the Toring chip not currently in charge of your body. You slightly narrow your eyes at him, asking the silent question.

How?

Caleb’s free hand slowly rises, eyes never leaving yours. His hand hangs in the air beside your head. The gun he set on the table, the same one he shot you with, flings into his hand. You don’t flinch. Caleb moves his hand ever so slightly, adjusting his angle, then pulls the trigger.

Professor Lucius falls to the floor, body crumbling to the ground. He hunches over, his blood freely pouring from his body. Caleb clears his throat, the gun remaining in his hand. The weight feels much lighter than it did before, its purpose almost fulfilled.

“I like to think that whoever is in control holds the gun,” Caleb speaks while staring at you. The corners of your lips perk up for a split second.

The men at the table flinch. Caleb finally turns to look at them, his hand slowly lowering. Nobody moves. The scrape of the soles of your shoes fills the silence. Slow and controlled. A weapon ready to be unleashed. You adjust your body to face the man. They stare at you and Caleb with a mixture of awe, fear, and anger on their faces. You clear your throat, eyes flickering between the men.

As if on a cue, every single man at the table reaches for their gun. Caleb throws his arm around your waist, dropping to the floor as bullets and surges of energy burst across the room. He moves your head beneath his chin, the man looking over the edge of the table as the men and officers begin to fire at each other, a few bodies dropping like flies. A few stray bullets head your way, Caleb using his Evol to move them into the nearby concrete pillars.

You attempt to slip free from his grasp but Caleb brings you right back to him, your back pulled against his chest. He pulls the trigger once again just as the man who sits beside you two turns his weapon in your direction. The gunshot makes your ears ring. Their body goes limp, slumping over. You reach up and grab the gun from his hand, checking it out with a quick glance.

Caleb stares at the back of your head. Your hair is drenched with your blood, the back of your skull still reconstructing itself despite you gaining consciousness. It’s nauseating to look at. He can’t even begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now in this moment. He can only guess that you are used to the pain, that you are used to the suffering that comes along with the now deceased Professor’s constant experimentation. He knows what it feels like.

“What are you—” Caleb asks but is interrupted by a steel doors flying open.

At the top of the stairs stands Viper alongside Ever soldiers. They begin to fire down upon the small group. The wooden table is engulfed in a blue and orange hue, the gravity around it vibrating as Caleb maneuvers it into the air, slamming it down in front of you and him, shielding you from the barrage of bullets.

Splinters of wood go flying. Caleb spins the two of you around, hunching you over, protecting your exposed skin. The splinters make themselves at home in his flesh, digging in. He winces, his breathing going ragged, and waits for the soldiers to reload before moving.

You open your eyes and scan the fresh battlefield. Many of the officers are face down on the ground, unmoving, blood encasing their bodies. You feel nothing when you stare at them. They knew exactly what they were getting into. 

“Caleb!” Viper’s voice echoes throughout the hangar, “I know you’re in here!”

Movement catches your attention. The General moves behind a cement pillar, bullets now focused on him. Your eyes meet and you glare at him. He doesn’t pay much attention to you. You follow his gaze, noticing that he stares at the Professor. Just beside him lays the glass tablet. The one thing in this entire building that you need to escape and be free from anyone’s control.

You turn to look at Caleb. He pulls his head away from yours, looking down at you. He cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone. You reach up and pinch one of the wooden fragments, one that buried itself in his cheek right below his eye. You pull it free, blood forming just above his skin but not enough to be worried about. Caleb shudders. You press two fingers to the cut and swipe to the left.

The mark is gone.

“Stay here,” you say, “give me a push.”

Caleb is in too much of a trance to do something about stopping you, simply nodding in response, amazed by the way you literally wiped away the splinter and all of the pain that came with it. His grip on your body loosens as you turn back around. The continual sound of bullets being shot at you comes to a slow when the men begin to reload their magazines.

You feel Caleb’s power rest against your back as soon as you push off of the floor. Fingers outstretched, muscles straining, you dart across the cement floor. You reach down and swipe the clear tablet from the Professor’s corpse, bolting towards the right to the closest pillar. Caleb’s power picks you up, your legs slowing as you’re lifted off of the ground, a gasp flying from your lips. You land on the ground behind the safety of the cement pillar.

Viper and his men don’t shoot and instead make their way down the countless metal stairs. You poke your head around the corner, looking at Caleb. You signal for him to come over and he immediately obeys your command, rushing across the small distance. You take a step forward and allow him to fill in the space between you and the cement pillar. He pulls you back to his chest as you look down at the glass tablet in your hand.

It lights up, a flurry of beeps and chirps coming from the device. One side is covered in blood. You wipe it off on your pants, the bright red liquid staining the white fabric.

“You’re here,” Caleb breathes out, still in shock, “you’re alive.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you question aloud, face and voice remaining neutral as you try to figure out the Professor’s tablet.

You click on the blue buttons, navigating your way through the small mainframe and commands. Caleb’s arms move up around you, guns in his hands. He shoots at two men who rush towards you with their own weapons aimed at you. You barely flinch at the sound, still focused on the screen in your hands.

You reach the portion that controls your body and Toring Chip. There is only one thing required to get inside the control board: a retinal scan. You groan and drop your hands, the glass slamming against your thighs.

“What? What is it?” Caleb asks, looking down at you.

“We needed his fucking eyes,” you groan. You pocket the tablet in your jacket. The machine fits perfectly on your stomach, stuck into your Fleet uniform pants.

“Well shit,” Caleb mutters. He glances at the Professor’s corpse. Surely his eyes are intact? Still usable?

“You just had to put the bullet in his head,” you mumble, scanning the aircraft hangar. You look up and to the side, your eyes meeting the General. You let out a breathy chuckle, it dies as quickly as it leaves your mouth, and you point to the tablet that is tucked inside your uniform.

Who is the next best person? The only other official that the Professor would trust enough with control over your body?

The General.

“We need him,” you nod your head at Caleb’s superior.

“We can hack into the tablet when we reach safety,” Caleb breathes out, “he’s not part of the plan.”

“He’s part of mine,” your head snaps to look at him. Caleb hesitates on fighting back. All he can bring himself to do is nod, swallowing the lump that forms in his throat from the sudden and added complications.

The General makes his escape. He begins to run deeper into the hangar, heading towards the planes and helicopters that wait to be used. Caleb grunts, glaring at him as he goes. He opens his mouth to speak to you but you are already gone, chasing after the General. Caleb gasps, pushing off of the wall as he sprints after you.

His long legs catch up to you easily, the man slightly alarmed that you are much faster than you were before. It makes sense, though, seeing how you did spend the last eight months in a torture situation where your bodily autonomy and identity was stripped from your hands. At least he knows that you’ll be able to keep up with him during your escape.

“Hey, hey!” Caleb calls out, barely out of breath. You hold out a hand and he unconsciously places one of the guns inside of it. “It’s not safe, pretty bird!”

You don’t listen to Caleb. Viper and his men reach the bottom floor and begin to shoot once again. The pillars around you two begin to crumble with every bullet that gets lodged into its frame. Bullets fly past your head at high speeds. Caleb flinches and you slow down, letting him rush past you. You know that you can take whatever it is they have for you. Caleb, on the other hand, actually has the possibility of succumbing to an early death.

A bullet lodges itself into your shoulder. You cry out in pain, the sheer force of the metal casing ripping through your body. Caleb stops and uses his Evol to pick you up off of the ground whipping you towards him. You glance at your shoulder, feeling the muscles tingle as the searing heat rips through your body. You grimace and look away, focusing on the gun in your hand. You aim it past Caleb’s head, pulling the trigger right as he grabs you into his arms. The bullet flies towards the general’s head but he turns at the last second, disappearing behind a large cargo plane.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath and conserve your ammunition.

Caleb places the two of you behind a helicopter. His Evol pulls open the doors, pushing you inside, keeping you low on the ground. He looks around, the controls of the small cockpit familiar to him. The Colonel quickly turns his attention back to you, lifting up one hand as your shoulder glows with blue and orange specks. Your eyes flicker to him as pressure is applied to the wound.

“Are you okay?” Caleb gushes, his face hardened despite the desperation in his voice.

“I can take it,” you talk through the pain, “I can get hit. You can’t.” Caleb begins to shake his head but you sharpen your gaze at him, causing him to stop. “I’ll take the shots, okay? I’m healing already. I’ll probably die again but that just means you can come back for my body.”

Caleb sucks in a breath. He knows that it’s the truth, that you are more expendable than he is. You died right in front of him — he killed you — and here you are, alive and breathing. He diverts his gaze for a split second before it moves back to you. He simply nods once in response.

“What did you have planned?” you ask, clearly knowing that he is here for you and you only.

He has to have a plan, right?

“My plan,” Caleb grunts, loosening the tie around his neck, “is to kill everyone and get out of here. My adjutant is waiting in a jet to take us back to Skyhaven.”

“You want to go to Skyhaven?” you shake your head, eyes widening, “that will be a death trap.”

“It’s the only chance we got, pretty bird,” he breathes out, slipping the tie free from his uniform. “What do you suggest?”

Before you can respond, bullets bury themselves into the metal of the helicopter. You poke your head over the edge of the metal, looking through the tinted windows.

“Four men,” you murmur to him, feeling as he presses his gun into your hand. “No sign of Viper.”

“There’s a control board near the table,” Caleb pushes through words out of his mouth, “it will open the hangar. It will give Liam enough time to drop in and get us.”

“Right,” you nod. Your eye twitches, your head now fully healed. There isn’t even a scar to commemorate getting shot in the head.

A bullet cracks through the helicopter’s windows. One of them grazes against your skin, ripping apart your cheek. You gasp, dropping below the metal barrier once again. Caleb’s hand flings to your face, your blood soaking his leather glove. His fingers envelop your face, squishing your flesh beneath his own. You wince, tears filling your eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Caleb asks. He releases your face, eyes focusing on the way your ripped muscles reach for each other, connecting together just like how he repairs his uniform with black thread.

“Nothing,” you clear your throat, mentally screaming at yourself to push away the pain, that the pain is temporarily and will go away soon. “It just hurts.”

Caleb nods. He cups your cheek, the warmth soothing your aching muscles. You lean into his touch, putting the full weight of your head into his hand. He holds you there as bullets fly in your direction.

Caleb’s eyes darken. While you wallow in your pain, trying to will it away and to force yourself to heal faster, he turns his attention back over to the men who close in on your hiding spot. He lets out a quiet sigh, mustering as much energy as he can. You remove his trembling hand from your face, the bullet graze now fully closed. You offer him a small smile, killing it as soon as it blossomed.

“Stay here,” Caleb demands. You simply nod and watch as the tall man slips from the helicopter with no weapon in hand.

The Ever soldiers begin to shoot at him. The bullets stop in mid-air, hovering in place as they vibrate beneath Caleb’s Evol. With one flick of his hand, the bullets return from where they came, burying themselves into the bodies of the soldiers. They drop to the ground, gunshots still ringing out from across the hangar.

You slip free from the helicopter, both guns in your hands, keeping them raised up as your eyes scan the environment for any more men that may appear. The landscape is quiet for the most part, except for the echoing gunshots from the distance. You don’t even realize Viper is right behind you before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you off of the ground.

“Caleb!” you scream out his name, knowing that he will come running as soon as he hears your cry.

Caleb’s head snaps in your direction. He glares at Viper who holds a knife to your neck. He wears the same demented smile as the Professor, one that shows his full indoctrination into Ever and the games that they wish to play. You struggle beneath his hold on you, not caring that the knife is digging itself into your neck. The guns you once held fall to the ground, the metal clattering against the cement.

“One move and I slice her neck,” Viper hisses.

You grab onto his wrist and try to pull it down but your strength is immeasurable compared to Viper’s after the Professor’s latest modifications. Viper pushes the blade into your neck as soon as Caleb takes a step forward. You let out a cry. Your esophagus aches and tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Caleb holds up his hands. A smirk spreads across Viper’s face.

“So she is your weak spot,” the sounds of Viper’s s’s make your skin crawl, the prolonged and dragged out sounds reminding you of the nights you were alone in your cell, crying as your body was doubled over in pain. Viper was there to laugh at you. Mocking. Teasing. Patronizing. Threatening.

Caleb’s gaze meets yours. You scowl, anger crashing through your veins as your tears stain your cheeks and the silver blade that presses into your flesh. Slowly, you nod.

You know what’s coming. You know that another death is near, that you will fall into another deep slumber while the men that surround you play their war games. They will fight it out while your soul leaves your body just for it to return, to endure the pain of reconstruction.

Caleb shakes his head, though. Your eyes widen and Viper’s body goes rigid against yours. The knife falls to the ground with a clatter, remaining by your feet. Caleb tilts his head to the side, his eyes going dark. He closes the distance, flicking his fingers. Viper’s grip on you loosens. You stumble in Caleb’s direction, kicking the knife past Caleb.

Caleb grabs hold of your wrist, fingers digging into your skin. He pushes you behind him. Viper’s body begins to float into the air. You watch in silence while your heart swells with a weird sense of relief — or is it pride?

Caleb clenches his jaw. Viper’s bottom lip trembles as the pressure that surrounds his body begins to increase. He couldn’t even shake his head or beg for mercy if he wanted to, completely under Caleb’s thumb.

In the past, you would have stopped Caleb, asked him to find it in himself to let Viper go and to leave hand in hand with you. But now? Now you would love nothing more than to see the death of a reptile that has plagued your existence for the past eight months.

“Who said you could touch her?” Caleb growls. His open palm begins to close. Viper’s bones crunch under the weight. Discoloration explodes across his skin, the bruises from the pressure immediate. His screams are trapped inside of his throat. “Did you really think that I would let you get away with touching her? To slice her skin with your blade?”

Cracking echoes off of the cement walls.

You glance at the knife on the ground, noticing the General move in the shadows. You step away, leaning down to swipe the knife off of the floor, and begin to walk in his direction. Anger boils inside the pits of your stomach, the reminder that it is the General who pushed you into the Professor’s clutches.

He is the reason why you are changed.

He is the reason why you were tortured for eight long months.

He is the reason why you can no longer recognize yourself in the mirror.

He is the reason why you have become a rag doll for those to play with.

He is the reason why you were ripped from Caleb’s hands.

He needs to die.

Caleb’s fist closes. Viper’s body is in the form of a ball. He drops the reptilian man to the ground, the smack reverberating off of the walls. Caleb turns around to look at you, to see if you are okay, but you aren’t there.

There are no more gunshots in the background. There is nothing but the sound of running footsteps, something that you have forced Caleb to become familiar with. 

Caleb floats himself into the air. He looks over the entirety of the hangar, looking in the direction of the running footsteps. A blue light flickers to the right. He watches as you turn the corner and shoots after you, soaring across the underground building in mere seconds. He drops to the ground, sliding across the cement, his shoulder slamming against the wall.

You chase after the General, the reflection of light showcasing the knife that sits in your hand.

Caleb calls out your name, the sound bouncing off of the walls. You don’t listen to him though, pushing forward with your plan to get the man’s retinal scan and to turn off the Toring Chip that sits in the base of your neck for good.

Your breathing is heavy, body aching from the chase through the hangar. The General is just out of reach, too far to snatch the back of his collar. You swipe the knife in the air, trying to connect with his skin and clothes in an attempt to slow him down.

It doesn’t work, though.

The General turns the corner and disappears inside of a nearby server room. You follow inside, hot on his tail, ready to enact upon the revenge plan you formed in your head. After that…well, you don’t really care what happens as long as your escape plan — one that comes in the form of a six foot two tall Colonel that you can’t figure out if you love or hate.

Your mind is too fragmented and shattered to even make sense of what your relationship is with him after this time.

He calls out your name again. He’s closer now.

You pick up the pace into the server room. The walls are made of granite, carved beneath the earth. Numerous rows of servers are lined up in the room with one min center aisle leading to a wall filled with security footage of the base and its surrounding areas. You glance at the screens, noticing a familiar face laying towards the camera. A pang of remorse and sadness wells inside your chest. Caleb’s adjutant, Liam, is no longer apart of his escape plan.

That just puts a wrench in things, doesn’t it?

“Come out,” your voice booms across the server room, “you’re cornered either way. Would you rather it be me or him who kills you?”

There is no response. You can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

If someone had gone back to a previous version of yourself, one from just little over a year ago, and told you what would happen to you over the course of a year, you would laugh in their face. You would have also offered them help or a ride to a therapist’s office to make for sure that their mental health and wellbeing are okay.

You twist the blade between your fingers, something you learned in middle school when Caleb taught you how to twirl your pencil, and the light shines back into your eyes as you move down the aisles. There are a few echoed footsteps down the hall but the sound bounces right back to you, giving you no way to find where the sound originated from.

“You once said that I reminded you of your wife,” you call out, the memory you and the General dancing together nine months ago. The hilt of the blade falls back into your hands, the move final and definitive. “Perhaps you would like to get one last look at her before you go.”

“Don’t do this,” Caleb’s voice booms across the server room.

You roll your eyes, looking at the cavern’s walls. You memorize the pattern, the black specks and dots that run across the walls. It doesn’t bring you any comfort or solace but instead perpetuates your need to kill the man who has ruined your life. The sound of booming footsteps comes to an end from behind you.

You know who it is. You don’t even need to turn around to know that it is Caleb who places his hands on your hips, stopping you in your track. He leans down, his fingers pushing into your stomach before he connects with the tablet. Caleb sighs and plucks it from the inside of your jacket and pants, revealing it to the server room.

“Your friend is dead,” you whisper, nodding your head at the screen where Liam is on the ground.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Caleb’s response is immediate. “Only you do.”

He steps around you, tablet in hand. You move to follow but his Evol keeps you in place, holding your feet to the ground. You groan, glaring at him from your spot.

“He’s mine,” you yell at him.

“Trust me when I say that you don’t want to do this,” Caleb stops in his path and turns around to look at you, tablet in hand, “you are not a killer. I am.”

You remain silent. Maybe there is a bit of truth in his words. Caleb always knows best when it comes to situations like these. You followed his word at the Farspace Fleet, always having your head low and keeping to yourself. You didn’t draw attention to either you or him, well, until the General offered you that translating job.

And that turned out to be a lie.

Now you’re a shell of who you once were. You’re not even sure what body parts belonged to you originally before you grew them back all over again.

“Caleb,” you yell, “let me go!”

“No!” he snaps back, “I can’t let you become anymore like me!”

There is pain behind Caleb’s voice. It stops you in your tracks, rewiring your brain with the desperation that is laced within his voice. You want to reach out for him, to draw him away from the General, away from the bloodbath that lies outside the server doors. His pain resonates with you.

But…he isn’t a monster. Not to you. Caleb is anything but the monster he has painted himself out to be.

“Caleb,” you choke his name out, tears falling down your face. He gently smiles. It’s kind and reassuring. It softens the hardened feeling that sits in the place where your heart once was. It begins to melt away your shields, the ones you have built so meticulously during your time with the Professor.

“I know,” he nods. “Stay here.”

His Evol releases you. Caleb immediately turns down the aisle, tablet in hand. You close your eyes, fists balled at your sides. You drown out the sounds of the General’s screaming, his cries for mercy and forgiveness.

Breathe in.

Hold.

Breathe out.

“What are you doing, pretty bird?” Caleb whispers into your ear.

You jump in your skin, eyes flying open. You look at him from over your shoulder, feeling his hands wrap around your waist. His calloused fingers slip underneath your shirt — well, his shirt — and his palms flatten against your sides. He pulls you close to him, his chin resting on your shoulder. Your heart begins to steady and you turn your attention back to the stove where a single pot sits.

The flame curls over the bottom of the pan, curling up along the metal. Caleb trails kisses along your neck, moving from the base all the way up to the back of your ear. You blush and giggle at the feathery touch.

“I am attempting to make dinner,” you finally respond, turning to look at him. His purple eyes are even more vibrant up close, the orange and gold specks reflecting the light of the kitchen. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Mhm,” Caleb hums. He buries his face into your neck, and slowly inhales, the scent of your body wash lingering along your skin. He presses another kiss right where your pulse is, earning another laugh from you. “I love boxed macaroni and cheese.”

“Okay, okay, I see you, using its full government name,” you tease, “still in Colonel mode, are we?”

Caleb spins you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, watching as he shakes his head, eye bags slightly darkened from just how tired he is. Caleb shakes his head no in response to your question. His hand clasp your waist, lifting you onto the counter beside the flame.

“You look tired,” you whisper. You reach out and push some of his hair out of his eyes. The man leans into your touch, closing his eyes with a quiet sigh.

“I am tired,” Caleb confirms with a lazy smile, cracking one eye open to look at you, “I’m just happy to be back home.”

You smile, heart skipping a beat. Caleb is still in his Colonel uniform, his hat set off to the side. You reach for his tie and loosen it. Caleb’s tired smile grows even more. You slip the fabric free from his neck, tossing it off to the side while the water in the pot comes to a rolling boil. You help him free himself of the Colonel jacket, letting it fall to the floor as he remains in his dress shirt.

“What did I do to deserve a woman as beautiful and amazing as you?” he asks, slightly tilting his head to the side, watching your hands as you slowly help to unbutton his shirt.

“You mean someone who cooks box macaroni and cheese and helps you with your tie?” you ask.

“Exactly that,” he breathes out with a small nod. “What did I do? Hm? To make you like me again.”

You pause for a moment. You think about the last month of your relationship, the ups and downs. You remember the shared laughs, the morning cuddles on a sunny Sunday morning, the shared showers, and the way he left an obscene amount of food in front of your door when you refused to speak to him. You recall the moment you fell in love with him all over again, the way his purple eyes shimmered under the peace summit’s glittering lights.

Caleb was the one who followed you after the wedding. Caleb was the one who followed you all the way to Linkon when you needed to escape from him. It was Caleb who let you see his scars, the metal that covers his arm. He was the one who let you into his past.

“It was the things you’ve done,” you smile at him.

Caleb leans in and presses a gentle and sweet kiss to your lips. You sigh. He pulls you closer as you melt into the kiss, the uniformed man’s hands moving to cup your cheeks.

“Pretty bird?” Caleb’s voice brings you back to reality. You open your eyes, blinking as you adjust to the dim lighting of the server room. His bloodied hands cup your cheeks, easing you out of your daydream. “Are you okay?”

You nod. Caleb’s eyes examine your face, checking to see if you have any other marks or open wounds he needs to look at. His face, though, has light blood droplets sprayed across it. You don’t pay attention to it, your body feeling weak.

“Did you get it?” you ask. A single tear rolls down your cheek, mixing in with the General’s blood on Caleb’s hands. “Did you…get control of me back?”

Caleb doesn’t respond. He flicks his head upwards once, a silent confirmation. Your legs feel like jelly. Your body almost gives out on you, your weight falling into Caleb. He catches you, one hand slipping to your waist to keep you steady.

“You look tired,” Caleb whispers. You nod again. “Alright…let’s get you out of here.”

Caleb’s hands slip from your face, fingers intertwining with yours. He begins to walk, pulling you along. White noise fills your ears. You look around the room before it switches back to the hallway, the man guiding you out of the base and up the stairs.

You look upon the bloodshed. Bodies lay scattered across the floor. Pools of blood and bloodied footprints trailing from one to another. Discarded guns, other weapons, and bullet casings litter the spaces in between. The wooden table that Caleb flipped is covered in bullet holes.

A small gasp leaves your lips. Caleb stops at the bottom of the stairs, moving you in front of him. You ascend up the metal flights, holding onto the railing.

Exhaustion sweeps over your body. The bullet hole in your shoulder finally closes up, the blood stopping its consistent flow out of your body. You feel Caleb’s hands on your lower back, urging you to keep pushing forward.

You do.

You reach the top of the stairs, your tears freely running down your cheeks, cutting through the red bloodstains. Caleb remains behind, staring at the unlocked tablet. All retinal scans have been deleted from your profile…all but one, that is.

His retinal scan.

Caleb pauses just below the top of the steps. You continue to move forward, each and every step monotonous as the last. Your limbs feel heavy and you are in desperate need of sleep. Real sleep, not the kind the Professor gave you when he pressed the off button.

The metal doors to the outside world stare at you. There is no window to reveal what is outside nor is there any clue or hint that can reassure your safety as you exit the building.

You recall the server room, the security footage on the screens. It was still, not a soul to be found. Just a few dead bodies here and there. Slowly approaching the metal doors, you flatten your palm against the surface. The metal is warm but your fingers immediately become clammy, slipping along the material.

Your fingers reach the doorknobs and you push them down, pressing open the metal door. You push through, feeling the warm night breeze on your skin. You take a single step out of the underground bunker and airplane hangar when suddenly your world goes black.

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

i <3 commenters

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

CultLeader!Geto x Devotee!Reader Smut | Semi-Public Cult Leader Geto takes advantage of you in the boredom of summer and has his way with you in the main hall.

A big thank you to @unintentionalseductress for hosting this delicious event. Also a HUGE ASS thank you to @ominouslywritinginmyhead for editing. I don't know how to comma. Thank u for saving me I owe you my life.

To all the girls that hate the summer, and loathe the heat. 

The ice cube slowly melted against your heated skin as Geto pushed it down your neck to your shoulder. 

It had just been a few minutes since he’d called you away from the window and watched as you sauntered over to him, sweat dripping down your neck and disappearing into your cleavage, out of his sight. You had been praying for a sign of the promised thunderstorm forecast earlier in the day, but the horizon had been bright as ever and Geto was irritated by the blinding light of the sun. 

The rattling of the overhead AC in the meeting hall, directed at Geto’s back, overpowered the deafening chirping of the cicadas outside. And despite it all, Geto insisted on keeping up appearances: his yukata tied as usual with the gold-green kasaya, his hair still in a half-up, half-down style, you in your silk kimono, unable to disrobe for the much preferred shorts and tank top you wore outside of the official spaces.

“Look at how this ice cube is dripping down you,” Geto whispered into your ear. 

“Geto-sama…” you let out a pleading whine. 

You were all too aware of the cold air hitting your bare thighs and the obscene way your yukata was parted at your waist to accommodate Geto’s hands…and more importantly, his cock. He was already semi-hard when he called you over from the window and ordered you to sit on his lap. And with a little squirming and a couple thrusts, he insisted on you cockwarming him. 

“Geto-sama, anyone can come in and see…” you pleaded again and felt Geto’s cock twitch inside your walls. There were enough people outside; the doors weren’t even locked, and you were splayed out in such a way that any unsuspecting cult member would have an unobstructed view of everything if they decided to enter without warning. 

You shifted in his lap, trying to get comfortable, and Geto pulled at your lowered kimono sleeves, kissing your neck. “Look at you all worried, you little curse. It didn’t seem to bother you when you were shrugging off your kimono to expose all this beautiful skin…” The ice cube was long melted, and Geto fished around in his drink for another to trail all over your exposed neck and shoulders. He slipped his fingers under the layered cloth to find your breast, chilled fingertips pinching your nipples, which swelled despite his chill.

“This was all your doing, little one. You decided to be a bratty little tease. You should have expected the fallout.” 

You thought back to how Geto’s amethyst eyes had darkened as you’d slipped the sleeves of your kimono to allow the cold air to hit your skin directly. It hadn’t been entirely for heat reasons, though. 

“Bounce on my cock.” 

You didn’t dare defy the order. There were some lines even you knew not to cross. Slowly, you began to move, careful not to let him slip out of you. His cock was coated in your slick, making movement easy, while his girth stretched you out with a delicious burn. 

Sounds of your moans and weighted breathing accompanied the AC clatter, spurring Geto on. His hand came up to clasp your asscheek, and he suddenly realised he wanted to see you. 

“Get on your back.” But despite his words, Geto didn’t wait for you to move. He lifted you himself and laid you onto the tatami, attacking your lips in the process. His kiss was fiery and rough, drinking you in like you were the much awaited storm. His hips pounded into you in a fast paced, steady rhythm, and you felt yourself reaching the summit. 

You reached down to your clit and rubbed at the parched bud, bringing yourself to your climax. Geto wasn’t far behind. He emptied into you with a groan and a final thrust. 

You gazed up at him, his neat bun coming loose and strands of dark locks framing his face. A stupid smile graced yours as you watched the little beads of sweat that had formed on his skin. Your heart did a little flip in your chest seeing him grin back, and you pulled his head down to envelope him in a deep kiss. 

A sudden clap of thunder and several loud knocks at the door jerked the both of you out of your dream. You shifted, and Geto got up to sit back in his usual position. You began to rise, but he yanked you back, groaning loudly as you landed on his bulge. 

“Little curse…be gentle with me. I’m not as strong as you to take such a rough pounding…” 

The knocks sounded once again and your cheeks burned. “Suguru…” You dared use his given name. Was he really going to…? “There’s people outside…” 

Geto only laughed. “Well then, let’s let them inside! Enter!”

Comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly

[dollyfiles]

hi, please feel free not to write this if you don’t want to!☺️ i’m wondering if you could write something for (new relationship) bf!rafe x (insecure lol) reader and how he hasn’t yet seen her with her natural hair (2C type overall but some strands 3A haha) because she thinks it looks really bad and unattractive and messy (maybe someone said it to her at some point? your choice!), and always blowdrys it or straightens it whenever going outside! And one day when they are hanging out, they get caught in a downpour or a storm with nowhere to hide for a few mins (because the car’s far away or whatever you want the situation to be!) and ofc reader’s only thought is that her hair’s already curling and she doesn’t want Rafe to see it, so as soon as they’re under some roof she’s like on a verge of tears trying to cover the hair somehow (while most likely avoiding eye contact with him lol) but he’s lowkey pissed off and all like “wtf are you doing”, and you can take their conversation/scene wherever you want from there! 😄 as I said at the beginning, no worries if you don’t wanna write it but thank you if you do 🫶🏼

a/n: thank u so much for requesting this <3 im literally in love sweet bf rafe. and i really hope i did ur idea justice. mwah !!

cw: pure fluff, insecure reader, maybe teenie tiny bit of angst

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

it started with a single drop. then two. then a full-on downpour that came out of nowhere, drenching everything in seconds. you and rafe had only made it halfway across the pier when the clouds opened up, thunder rumbling overhead, the wind slapping drops of cold rain sideways across your backs.

the car was definitely too far to run. so you both bolted for the nearest shelter you could find—an old, half-forgotten boat shack with a tin roof and open sides. it barely counted as cover but felt like the best option in that moment.

but you weren’t thinking about the rain. or your soaked shoes. or the chill crawling under your jacket. all you could think about was your hair.

you could feel it shifting—the subtle recoil of strands springing back into their natural state, the familiar tug of texture creeping it’s way back. your fingers twitched at your sides, pulse thrumming heavily.

you didn’t need a mirror. you knew exactly what was happening. and you fucking hated it.

the rain and humidity were already coaxing your natural curls out from the flattened, and heat-damaged version you’d forced them into that morning. two months of dating rafe, and you’d made sure he only ever saw the polished version of you. straightened. controlled. ‘pretty.’

not this.

not wild, frizzy, unpredictable. not the curls someone had once called a ‘bird’s nest’ in eighth grade. not the texture a girl at summer camp had wrinkled her nose at and said, ‘don’t you ever do your hair?’

those words had stayed with you. so you always straightened, blow-dried, and avoided water at all costs. especially around your boyfriend.

under the thin roof, you tried to face away from him, pressing down on hair that would not be pressed. the hood was soaked, clinging to your scalp. you could already feel the soft curls forming at the roots, the frizz at your edges, the strands starting to rebel.

rafe laughed, totally oblivious for a second, running a hand through his own dripping hair. “jesus, we got drenched. haven’t been this soaked since top flipped that fucking jet ski.”

you didn’t respond though. your breath was shallow. and your fingers were shaking. so when he turned and saw your back still to him, the tension in your shoulders, the way you were curled into herself—the grin slowly faded from his face.

“baby?” he asked, his voice softening. he stepped closer, his brow creased with concern. “are you… what’s wrong?”

you sniffled, the sound barely audible under the splatter of rain as you tried to turn more into the wall beside you, like you could vanish if you just tucked yourself small enough.

“y/n,” he said again, quieter now, but closer. “what are you doing? why are you hiding like that?” he reached for your hand but you flinched.

his stomach dropped at the reaction—you’d never pulled away from him before.

“i don’t want you to see—” your voice cracked, quiet and raw. “my hair. i—this isn’t how it’s supposed to look. it looks awful, and i know it does, so can you just—please don’t look at me right now.”

for a second, all rafe could do was stare at you. at the way your fingers trembled, your eyes flickered, glassy and refusing to meet his.

and then, suddenly, the pieces snapped together.

you had turned just slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse beneath the soaked fabric of your hood. dark, soft curls were beginning to peek out—bouncy and delicate, already fighting their way back to form despite the rain’s weight.

but you looked like you wanted to disappear. his brows drew together. “wait…” he said, his voice low, confused. “you had these curls the whole time?”

you froze, like you’d just been caught stealing. “rafe, don’t—please don’t look,” you whispered. “it’s—god, i didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

“what?” he said sharply, more out of shock than anything. he wasn’t mad at you—he was rather mad at whatever or who had made you feel like this.

“people used to make fun of it,” you admitted. “said it looked like a puffball or that i didn’t know how to take care of myself. i started straightening it in middle school, and i just… kept going. i didn’t want you to think i was messy.”

rafe just stared at you, stunned. then his chest tightened. it hurt him to hear you say that. to hear the quiet, brutal truth.

“are you kidding me?” he said, stepping right in front of you now. “baby, those curls? they’re beautiful. they’re like… fuck, they look better than how you usually wear it.”

you finally looked up, your eyes wide in disbelief. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me,” he said, his voice softer now, but not less serious.

he lifted a hand but didn’t touch—just hovered it over your head. “you really thought i’d be turned off by this? your real hair?” you blinked, your breath catching. “i didn’t want to ruin how you saw me.”

“hey, listen to me,” he said gently, his eyes locked on yours, “you could never ruin that. ever. if anything, i’m mad you didn’t show me sooner.”

you bit your lip, your chest tightening. you hadn’t even realized how badly you needed to hear it—how heavy the silence had gotten, carrying this thing you never let him see.

“you really mean that?” you whispered. and rafe didn’t hesitate. “every damn word.” he reached out then, tucking a soaked curl behind your ear, and smiled.

“you’re unbelievably gorgeous,” he said. “always have been. but this? this is next level.”

a laugh bubbled up in your throat, embarrassed but genuine. he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hands finding your waist as he couldn’t bear to not hold you in that moment.

“next time,” he murmured, “don’t straighten it. let me see you. all of you. please.” you nodded, forehead resting against his chest. “okay,” you said softly, “next time.”

he grinned into your hair, already loving the way it curled against his jaw. “good. ‘cause you look hot as hell right now. actually kind of unfair, if i’m being honest.”

you laughed, small but real this time, and you knew that you’d never had to hide from rafe ever again.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @beausling @littlelamy @sturn777 @cherrygirlfriend @whinyangel @bluemerakis @lacyydollette @nemesyaaa @rafeysbangs @deansbeer @tinythebunni

[prncessrindou]

Hiii! First time requesting but can I request Rindou? Like imagine him showing up with piercings down there 😳

“why haven’t you told meee!?” you questioned, pouncing on rindou as soon as he entered your bedroom.

“what are you talking about!?” rindou asked, his hands flying around your waist as you tried to straddle him. he was confused, to say the least . . he didn’t know why you seemed so happy all of a sudden.

you let out a sigh then put on a cute pout on your face, “and i thought i was your best friend!” you mumbled, folding your arms together and making your boobs sit up higher.

“wha— you are my best friend!” rindou protested.

“then why you didn’t tell me about your dick piercing?!”

rindou’s mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. he was shocked that you even found out about it and he thinks he has a good idea of knowing who told you.

“lemme guess, ran told you?”

you nodded your head and giggled. “yep!”

rindou rolled his eyes and mumbled lowly — something about how ran can’t keep his fucking mouth shut for nothing, but you on the other hand was excited about his new piercing.

“sooo..” you said with a smirk.

rindou shrugged his shoulders, “so what?”

“tell me how in the fuck did you even get the piercing. i mean, i wanna know all the details and stuff.” you said.

rindou chuckled, “didn’t know my dick was so popular.” he said laughing lightheartedly.

you rolled your eyes and softly punched his chest. “just tell meee!!!” you whined, pouting once again.

“heh, ok ok. chill!” he replied, “ok so, ran and i was in roppongi at one of the clubs. long story short, i got hell of drunk and made a bet with someone but i ended up losing the bet annddd now i have a dick piercing.” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“did it hurt?” you asked with curious doe eyes.

rindou shook his head. “nah… i was super drunk so i didn’t feel much of it.”

you started to bite down on your bottom lip, thinking of the next thing you were going to ask. “um— have you used it yet?”

“whaddya mean?”

“i mean, like, tried it out on someone…”

“nah, i just been beating my shit. the piercing adds a lot of stimulation though, so i kinda like it.” rindou responds.

you lean forward towards rindou’s face. “would you want to try it on me?” you asked softly, biting your bottom lip.

rindou’s ears and cheeks become a shade of red, gulping down hard as you stared into his eyes with your pretty ones. you began grinding your hips on his clothed cock and he couldn’t help but place his hands on your plush thighs.

“yeah, i’m down for it if you are.” rindou says nonchalantly, trying to sound all cool but it didn’t matter how he sounded because you leaned over and kissed him anyways.

maybe it’s true that ran runs his mouth too much, but he came in clutch by telling you about his brother’s piercing . . rindou is so gonna thank ran when all of this is over. :)

[y2kstarr]

— ᥫ᭡ shine . . . matt sturniolo

where . . . After yet another performance, you couldn't help but realize just how drained you were, how you were practically on the break of calling off the rest of your tour, so you text the only person you know who will make you feel real again.

contains . . . pure fluff, popstar!reader, bsf!matt

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #10

The hotel suite was too quiet, in the way that echoed like the yells and cheers from your shows.

Post-show silence had a way of feeling hollow. Not peaceful — vacant. The kind that settled over your shoulders and crawled into your bones like stage fog that forgot to lift.

The adrenaline had worn off hours ago. Now it was just you and the dull ache behind your eyes, the sweat drying along your hairline, and the mascara still clumped beneath your lashes.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with both palms flat against the marble counter, watching your own reflection like it was someone else.

You dragged a makeup wipe across your cheek, the glitter smearing like war paint your skin was all too familiar with.

Underneath it all, you looked… tired. Soft in a way that no one ever saw anymore, only ever seeing the energetic, show stopping persona you put on for your fans. There was something raw in your expression, something that hadn’t made it to the cameras, the magazines, the press interviews.

You weren’t crying. You were just unraveling, quietly. Thread by shimmering thread.

Your breath hitched in your chest before you spoke, quiet, almost weak.

“I can’t do this...”

It wasn’t a scream. Not a dramatic declaration. Just a whisper, to no one really, maybe to yourself. Maybe to the version of you plastered across a dozen headlines this week.

You hardly let yourself think anymore before you grabbed your phone, your fingers hovering over your phone screen for a long time, before going to your text messages and clicking on the one contact to the person you needed to talk to the most. Not your manager. Not your assistant. Not even your family.

Matt.

You didn’t think. Just typed.

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎?

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕.

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.

He didn't waste a moment before answering, didn’t even reply with a question.

𝙱𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢

𝙷𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎

The moment you saw his text, you were already tearing off your outfit, slipping into a hoodie that still smelled like his detergent — one you’d borrowed a few weeks ago and never gave back, not even packing a bag before you left your hotel room.

Your stage heels lay abandoned on the suite’s plush carpet as you padded in your tennis shoes through the hall, sunglasses low on your nose even though it was almost midnight.

When you stepped outside through the back service entrance, the city air hit you in a chill you weren't used to, different from your air conditioned changing rooms and over-heating stage lights. Cold. Real. You squinted into the darkness and saw his SUV parked under a flickering streetlamp, not even realizing just how quick he'd gotten to you.

His car wasn’t sleek or tinted like the ones you were used to. It wasn’t part of the entourage you usually got to events or shows or even out when your manager wanted more paparazzi pics. It was just Matt’s car — the beat-up SUV with the pine-scented air freshener and the little crack in the windshield that he swore gave it “character.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye as you slid in without second thought, curling your legs beneath you as you shut the door behind you, his hands loose on the wheel as you buckled yourself in.

“Want me to say something funny or just keep driving and pretend this isn’t a borderline kidnapping?" he finally spoke up to try and lighten the mood.

You let out a breath — not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “Kidnap me. Please. I won’t even press charges.”

He grinned. “Perfect. I even brought snacks. A truly elite kidnapper experience.”

He didn’t ask questions, never did, and that was maybe your favorite thing about him. He just turned the key and started to drive.

He didn’t need to dissect your pain to understand it. Didn’t need you to shape it into something else to appease him. He just turned the music low — some warm, indie song that made your shoulders slump, tension releasing slowly — and passed you a granola bar and a water bottle he’d pulled from the back seat earlier.

You'd taken it from him and opened it slow, nibbling into it and grateful at the familiar taste, nothing like the fancy dinners and snacks you were given from your nutrition. You felt as he looked at you from the corner of his eye once more, his lips turning up a little.

“You look like a raccoon who got glitter-bombed.”

You couldn't help but snort, a noise that made his heart warm, a glimpse into your real self that he loved too much. “Thanks, that's the look I was going for.”

“You nailed it." He smiled with a soft chuckle.

And there was that smile again. The easy one. The one that said I know you, not just the version everyone claps for.

Matt was the opposite of your world. Where everything in your life was curated and polished, he was lived-in. His hair never quite behaved, his jeans always had one rip too many, and his playlists were a mess of indie bands, love-sick male artists, and whatever lo-fi beat caught his ear that week.

You were champagne flutes and silk gowns. He was corner diner mugs and thrifted flannels.

And God, how you missed that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

By the time the sky lightened, he’d taken you out past the suburbs, winding through roads too narrow for billboards and too small for paparazzi, your sleeping form pressed against his passenger door.

You'd woken up as he'd made a pit stop at a diner that looked like it hadn’t changed since the 70s. You pulled your hoodie tight around your face as the two of you entered, but no one looked twice at you. No camera flashes. Just the clink of coffee cups and the smell of bacon.

Matt ordered pancakes for the table and used too much syrup. You picked the chocolate chips out and flicked them into his plate, and he caught each one with exaggerated flair like he was a performing seal, making you laugh so hard, your sides ached.

After breakfast, he drove you to a used bookstore tucked between two antique shops. You wandered the aisles with your fingers trailing the worn spines, smiling at the titles you recognized, reading out ridiculous summaries on the backs with overly dramatic voices until he shushed you with a smirk and a playful hip check.

Later, you found yourselves at a tiny park no one remembered to keep fully cleaned, but it felt real like that, unpolished and unkempt. Matt threw himself dramatically into the grass and you followed, lying back beside him, watching the clouds shift like spilled cream in the sky.

Neither of you said much for a while. It was enough just to be, and you couldn’t remember the last time you let yourself be this still. It felt... good.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Evening finally snuck up on the two of you as you sat by the lake he’d taken you to once before — back when you’d just started getting radio play. Before it all exploded.

The sun bled gold into the water, casting your silhouettes long across the dock. Matt spread out that same frayed blanket and you both sat cross-legged, knees brushing. He handed you a mug of hot chocolate from the thermos he'd brought, topped with the tiny marshmallows you used to eat by the handful when you were both broke and barely making rent.

You wrapped your fingers around the mug, staring out over the rippling water before letting a soft sigh leave your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve felt like a person in months,” you said, your voice barely above the wind. “Every time I try... someone wants something. A picture. A quote. A smile. A piece. And don't get me wrong, I love my fans and what I do it's just... so draining sometimes.”

Matt didn’t speak right away. He just let the silence settle, thick and sacred.

Then he leaned forward, his shoulder brushing yours.

“You’re a person to me,” he said simply.

You blinked and turned your head, as if those words were obsolete to you, unknown in your now lavishing life.

“I mean it,” he added, his gaze unwavering as he noticed the way you didn't seem to believe just by your look. “You’re not glitter and glam to me. You’re the girl who purposely sings funny along to any song in the car. Who eats fries dipped in ice cream. Who once cried over a turtle documentary and tried to adopt a virtual sea turtle named Kevin.”

Your laugh broke before the tears did. A shaky, half-choked sound as you covered your face with one hand, embarrassed blush creeping up your neck at the memory.

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything.”

He reached out gently as he chuckled with you, soft and warm in a way that felt like a sweet hug, tugging your hand away from your face. His thumb brushed just below your eye, catching a tear before it could fall further.

“You’re not just some name on billboards,” he said, softer now. “You’re you. And that’s enough. More than enough.”

Your breath hitched. Not because you didn’t believe him, but because you did.

And that… scared you.

He didn’t kiss you. You didn’t ask him to. But you leaned your head on his shoulder as the stars began to blink to life above you, and he let his cheek rest on your hair, your hands brushing before deciding to not intertwine.

For the first time in what felt like years, you exhaled without bracing for the next thing, the next interview, the next show.

You weren’t a popstar here.

You weren’t a product.

You weren’t a character on stage.

You were just... you.

And Matt — sweet, funny, steady Matt — was right there, holding space for the girl the world forgot about the second the spotlight turned off.

And maybe… that was enough to begin again.

☆ : ok but this was so adorable to write!! 😭😭 I'm a sucker for the mc in anything falling for their best friend– anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this one, even if it wasn't smut like the rest lol. <33

taglist 🏷️

[gymbunnycandiehart]

☕ Coffee Crew Cool-Down

The morning workout was all hustle—reps, playlists, giggles, and a tiny bit of showing off. Now the sweat has dried, the leggings still hug just right, and Candie’s vintage Saucony sneakers are laced up like he’s ready for anything (even though he’s already done plenty).

He’s flanked by her besties, strutting out of the gym like they own the sidewalk. Candie’s sipping his iced oat latte with vanilla cold foam, the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his heart grin.

Taylor’s rambling about last night’s date (a total himbo, Candie silently decides)…

“…and then he ordered a second salad for himself—like, who does that on a first date?” Taylor rolled her eyes dramatically, straw twirling in her half-empty iced matcha.

Candie nearly snorted into his latte. “Wait, was it like, a protein bowl situation, or was he just really into kale?”

“He said it helped him think clearly,” Taylor said with a shrug, then shot Candie a sly grin. “But actually… his roommate is kinda cute. I could totally set up a double date if you’re—”

Candie choked softly, hand fluttering to his cheek with a flushed little laugh. “Me? Oh, no, I mean… I wouldn’t even know what to wear!” His sneakers shifted nervously on the pavement, the little silver charm on his anklet catching the light.

“Girl, please,” chimed in Jess, “you could wear those leggings and have him whipped before the appetizers.”

Candie ducked his head, hiding his smile in his coffee. He didn’t say yes. But he didn’t say no, either.

“…wait, is that a little smile I see there?” Taylor teased, leaning in with mock suspicion.

Gina didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, it is! He’s actually considering it. Look at him, already planning the girly outfit in his head.”

Candie rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin spreading across his face. “Stop it. I’m not planning anything. I don’t even know the guy.”

Taylor raised her brows. “So? That’s the point of a blind date. And anyway, he’s super chill. You’d vibe. Plus, you in your cute little sneakers and that flirty-awkward giggle you do? Girl, you’d have him wrapped around your pinky before the drinks even land.”

“Pfft,” Candie laughed, sipping his latte to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “Y’all are too much. What if I’m… I don’t know, not what he’s expecting?  What if he…you know…doesn’t like girly boys?”

Gina waved that off. “Candie, your tomboy charm is exactly the kind of ‘unexpected’ that guys go crazy for. It’s relaxed, it’s real—it’s kinda flirty without even trying. No guy in his right mind would turn you down.”

Taylor leaned in again, grin full of mischief. “So should I text him? Just a casual double date. Coffee and a stroll. You in?”

Candie bit his glossed lip, eyes flicking between his besties, heart doing that little flutter thing. He gave a tiny shrug and a whisper-soft, “Maybe…”

And that was all they needed.

To be continued?

Love ya, my girlies!

Candie

[uniquethingtastemaker]

I've been working on a series called "Dreaming of You.” The premise is that when you jump into the romantic interest’s dream in Chapter 7, you’re there as their significant other

This is an update to this post, since much has changed! I'll add my writing status for them. I'll also include some samples for the ones I've been writing for. I'll put this on the Masterlist for everyone to see as I update it!

Another aspect that will be included in this series is showing how each love interest fell in love with Reader in the real world. This is usually formatted as a few flashback scenes from his POV, but some of them are special

(The writing status list from beginning to end is [Concept-> Idea-> Outline-> Writing])

Riddle — [writing. currently 24k, closest to done] Spicy! However, the focus is on character development. Multiple panic attacks with comfort (what can I say? the man is unstable). Lots of screaming from the cast. Riddle learns affection. Samples: Spicy! Hilarious. Serious

Trey — [concept] Vague, but supporting Trey in Riddle's dream is what I want. Parent couple.

Cater — [outlining/writing. suspected to be 30-40k] Angst with comfort (gut-wrenching. the type where you have to pause, get up, and hold your head because your heart hurts. Don't worry, there's comfort!! A lot of it. that's why it's so long). Character deep dive and analysis. Peeling back Cater's mask to find insecurity, pessimism, low self-esteem, and more. He gets the attention and love he deserves. Still funny. It can't all be dark

Deuce — [idea] If Azul’s dream is most embarrassing in canon, Deuce’s is the most ridiculous in this series. I love him, but he can be so unobservant at times.

Leona — [concept] Leona's not happy in his dream... Idk what's going to happen, but it's going to be angst with a happy ending. (It's not like Cater's. That one can sneak up on you. This one is obvious depression)

Azul — [writing. currently 10k] Despite the cringe context, Azul is a good and dedicated boyfriend. Money's on the mind even in his dreams. MVP Floyd (it's a delight). Business power couple (be scared, run away). A few deeply (often unwillingly) vulnerable scenes with Azul due to outside circumstances. Reader swoops in to save the day, Azul style. Samples: Hilarious

Jade — [idea] He likes you the best, and it shows. You encourage crime.

Floyd — [idea] He missed you, and it shows. Gets angry and upset when he first sees you. Then, he figures out you're the fun Shrimpy and glomps you.

Kalim -- [idea/outlining] Kalim gets help in the real world! Yay! He acquired more self-sufficient skills. (You helped him, but didn't become his parent... Lilia became his dad, though lol) Unexpected intro to dream, but makes way too much sense once you think about it. He's surrounded by too many competent people, including himself, surprisingly (we like character growth here). It's a problem

Vil — [outlining/writing] Chill Reader (Vil needs someone a little calmer than himself). Vil loves physical affection. Envy moment! Then, he immediately regrets something, like in canon. Open mouthed, can't breathe, gasping sobs from Vil. Slowly feeling out the new relationship.

Rook — [concept/idea] Rook usually takes a spectator role. It's not too different in his dream. Just a little more involved in Reader's happiness. A lot is unclear for this one

Idia — [idea/outline] "My family saw my search history and crush. Now I have to work with my target LI to defeat the ultimate boss, but my family and their company keep trying to wingman me," the fanfic. I love the Reader in this one. It's so funny

Malleus — [concept] Ace uses his unique magic on Malleus to put him to sleep. Unclear about the content

Silver — [idea/outline/writing? unclear. it's been through phases] Soft Silver. Helping the Diasomnia crew with their fundamental problems (Malleus-> Time management, Silver-> Narcolepsy accommodations, Sebek-> Racism). Getting Lilia's approval. Intense fight scene (it's so good. so tense, but so good). Sample: get wrecked sebek

Sebek — [idea/outlining] Reader schools Sebek, then chooses him over anyone else to confide in and trust (this is so important for him. I could do a whole analysis about this, but not here). Tactician Reader! (Sebek needs a strong leader figure, let's be honest) Multiple near-death experiences (was not expecting it to be this intense). Sebek steps up and does the right thing to protect Reader. Sweet relationship. Sebek is a little shy. Rollercoaster of emotions. It's intense

What do you think? Who are you excited for?! Leave it in the comments. It motivates me. Do you see how long my fanfics tend to be? I work hard lol. I need max support!

(I hate tags. I need more of them)

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

FAIRYTALE- WINTER SOLDIER

day six of the june bug masterlist

pairing: hades! winter soldier x persephone! fem! reader

word count: 2k

summary: an inspired retelling of hades and persephone, where bucky takes you for himself, sheltering you from the cruel world. it may be cruel- but hes even crueler.

warnings: darkish? kidnapping, arranged marriage, bucky is a bit controlling, petnames, swearing

(this fic is more artistic freedom than anything:) so its more detailed in scene then any kind of smut or romance)

 “ im in love with a fairytale/ even though it hurts/ cause i don't care if i lose my mind/ i'm already cursed" - fairytale, alexander rybak

He was unable to have her.

And that made him want her more.

It was twisted, really. He was twisted.

He was dark and cold, callus and cruel. He was everything she was not.

The Winter Soldier was many things. Kind was not one of them. Which is why he had taken you.

You were not his to take. But he never claimed to be a selfless person. 

He had his eye on you for a long, long time. He knew who you were.

Your desires.

Your dreams.

Your wants, your needs.

What brought you comfort in the darkest of storms, and what caused your outer shell to crack into millions of pieces.

You were not a mere test subject to him, for him to observe.

No, you were a person- a goddess, who had her whole life ahead of you.

One he had stolen.

You had captured his interest, the first time that had happened to a man like him. It was foreign, and immediately he knew he had to do something about the warmth that spread through his chilled body near your presence.

He was disgusted with himself, with the way you plagued his thoughts.

Haunted them.

You would not leave his mind, as if you had been shackled there, to each ridge and neuron in his brain.

Your laugh.

Your smile.

The way your eyes twinkled with excitement and sheer joy when a flower bloomed under your touch, its petals opening wide to bask in your light.

Your smell, sickly sweet- of citrus and warm cherry blossoms in the sun. It clung to him like a second skin, one he could never fully wash off.

His compulsive, obsessive thoughts churned in him, a storm brewing until lightning had cracked and shattered his restraint.

It grew dark that day, so unfamiliar to you. The sunlight you basked in was kept prisoner by rolling grey clouds, thunder rumbling in the distance.

The rain began to pour, the icy cold droplets like pin pricks of a needle on your skin. For whatever reason, you couldn't move. You were frozen in your garden, looking up to the sky.

To Mother Earth.

Was she angry with you? You felt this punishment was needed. Deserved.

So you embraced the pricks of ice on your skin, letting it soak through your white dress that once flowed out around you. Now it clung to you like a marble statue, chilling you to the bone.

A crackle of lightning shot through the sky, illuminating the darkness with crackles of white, blues and deep purples. It was hauntingly beautiful. It was then the sky lit up again- and you felt darkness itself wrap its chains around you, pulling you under.

When you awoke, it was cold.

That was the only thing you could feel. Coldness.

It was a heaviness on you, trying to hold you down as you blinked your eyes open, the room blurring in and out of focus. Dark spots flashed across your vision, a lingering fear it was the darkness around you that was consuming your very soul.

You shuffled upwards, crouched in the corner as you observed the room around you.

It appeared as a showroom. An illusion, an attempt to bring false light and hope between the four walls.

A mirage.

Your hands were unbound, despite your abduction. You were free to move as you pleased, and yet you felt etched to the floor beneath you.

Darting your eyes around, you noted things in the room- presumably your room, that caught your eye.

The bed was large, seemingly soft as it had an old granny quilt, covered in florals. Blankets and piles of pillows adorned its surface, an old oil lamp flickering dimly on the bedside table. A bookshelf was filled with bound classics, different novels you had picked up over the years and read tirelessly under an old willow tree.

A kettle lay on a little counter, shelves above filled with different herbal tea blends and fresh leaves.

He had been watching you. And he had been for the last ten minutes, silent in the shadows as he observed you.

You jumped as he emerged into the light, scurrying back into your corner like a feral cat being cornered. A gasp was stuck in your throat, and you wanted more than anything to scream for help, to scream for anyone to save you from the large man who towered over you, slowly walking over to you- his footsteps silent.

He was darkness reincarnated, a living vision of cold, lonely nights and wilted flowers. Long dark hair curled around his neck, meeting the curled inky swirls that poked out underneath the collar of his shirt. Deep blue eyes watched you intensely, yet a gentle softness lingered in them as he looked into your own.

As if he were seeing someone familiar. Someone who brought him comfort. His arm reached out to touch you, and you flinched, scooting back into your corner until you were trapped by two wooden walls.

“Please-“ you cried out, silenced by the feeling of his fingers stroking your cheek tenderly, and the fresh tears that dripped down them.

“Please don’t hurt me, my family-“

“I’m not going to hurt you, my love. I am going to care for you.”

His words sent a chill down your spine.

“W-what?”

He smiled softly, removing his hand from your skin. Though he missed it. Your skin was so soft, so warm. He did not tell you of how you got here, where you were. He did not tell you of how the vines and the leaves seemed to bend and curl around him, trying to prevent your body from leaving. He did not tell you that you were not going back.

Instead, he stood, so large and tall he seemed to block all the light from view as you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees tightly.

“You are to be my wife.”

Your eyes widened. Voice became stuck in your throat at his words.

“You’re not a prisoner here, my love. Come and go as you please. Explore. And if you need anything, tell me and I’ll go to the ends of the earth to find it for you.”

He turned, striding over to the door. It was unlocked. You slowly pulled yourself up to shaky legs, looking like a newborn fawn as you took a step forward.

Then another.

“I need to go home.” you said, voice as shaky as your legs as you stumbled towards the bed, the feeling of darkness overcoming you again.

He frowned sympathetically, tilting his head as he started to shut the door behind him.

“You’ll learn to trust me soon, my цветок. I promise. Now rest.”

And with that, the door was shut. He was gone, leaving you alone with your broken heart and broken thoughts.

But the click of the lock never came. Despite this, all you could do was obey.

Sleep overcame you, and you let it.

════ ✣✤✣ ═════ ═══ ✣✤✣ ════

He repeated those words every single day.

Mentions of trust. Mentions of promise.

And yet, you refused to believe him.

The first two days you refused to leave your room. Looking out the window, you watched the rain run down the glass pane. It was always dark, always cloudy. The trees were barren of leaves, the air foggy and suffocating.

There was no point in leaving. You couldn’t. You were in the Underworld. No one could reach you here.

You had cried and cried until you could cry no more. Your eyes were puffy and heavy, sleep washing over you like a wave throughout the day.

And yet, he did not try and comfort you. He left you be. He knew that trying too much, too soon would leave you feeling more anxious. So he lingered. But didn’t hover over you.

You would come to him when you were ready. It would take time, but he was patient. He had all the time in the world to be patient. But he couldn’t help but worry, just a little.

You were still as bright and radiant as ever, the flowers still blooming in your woven hair. When you emerged from your room to slip to the bathroom, he noted you had put on some of the nightgowns he had left in your dresser.

And though he knew you were sleeping well, and had even done so much as to make some chamomile tea, you refused to eat. It worried him. He knew the change would be hard, and you’d need to adjust, but you needed something in your body.

Your stomach had been grumbling for the last two days, and you grew weak. Your thoughts were cloudy, and consumed with the idea of fresh fruits and berries from your garden back home. You longed for the sweet taste of nectar and honey on your tongue more than anything.

It was late when you snuck out of your room- though sneaking wasn’t the right word, since you were technically free to go where you wished. But you were trying to avoid the man who was now sitting at the kitchen table.

Watching you.

You froze, fingers clutching the door handle to slip back in your room. But sometrhing held you captive, like a deer in headlights.

“You need to eat at some point petal. You grow weak. And we can’t have that, now can we?” he hummed, pushing the chair across from him with his long leg.

You swallowed, slowly making your way over to sit. “I’m not hungry.”

“I can hear your stomach grumbling from inside your room.”

You stared at him blankly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But you were caving.

“I did not want to bother you while you’re adjusting. It makes you anxious, I'm sure. I can feel it rolling off you in waves.”

“You make me anxious.”

He smiled to himself, as if you had told a funny joke he was remembering for later.

“I get that a lot.”

“I’m sure.”

He pushed forward a bowl, and when you peered inside your mouth watered.

Pomegranates.

Oh you had missed the sweet taste of pomegranate seeds. But you couldn’t trust him, or his food.

“How can I trust you? That this isn’t poisoned?”

He shrugged. “You can’t. But you’re a smart girl. You look and tell me if it has any traces of nightbane in it.”

You examined it throughly, finding no traces of the white powder that could be dusted around the seeds. Nothing but deep red juices stained your fingers as you poked around. It looked like blood.

“I want to go home.”

“You can visit home if you eat. I’m trying to take care of you, and you’re making it very difficult.”

Your eyes widened. “I can go home?”

“You can visit.”

You frowned.

“Visit?”

“I’ll make a deal with your father I’m sure.”

You didn’t know of the conditions he had left your homeland in. Whether it was because of his presence, or the loss of you- it had turned dark. The crops would not grow, the clouds would not part.

Mother Nature cried so hard the plants drowned and wilted. There was no sun. The sun was with him, sitting across from him at the breakfast nook.

Your parents were desperate. Not only for your presence again, but for the sun to shine again. Nature did not call to them the way it called to you. The deer had scurried off, skittish, away in the brush, the vines had turned brown and thin.

He watched as you practically scarfed down the fruit, juices seeping from the corners of your lips and down your chin to stain your dress. He smiled, watching as you began to eat another, before he gave you a basket of fresh fruits from your garden.

Licking your lips, your eyes closed as you felt energy seep into your pores. It felt like being bathed in spring water, refreshing and cool.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and watched as you retreated to your room, lips still stained. Unbeknownst to you, you had thanked him for sealing your fate in the Underworld.

You’d see what he needed soon enough. 

To care for you. To keep you safe. To make you his queen. 

[demie90s]

Imagine Azzi Fudd and the reader being secretly together during the season. They keep sneaking glances and moments behind closed doors, but a teammate catches them kissing in the locker room.

Behind Closed Doors

Azzi Fudd x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Azzi and I kept it quiet—late-night talks, soft kisses when no one was around.

Warnings: Secret relationship, locker room kiss, caught in the act, soft tension

Word count: ~ 0.6k

I knew we were getting sloppy the second Azzi touched my hand on the bench during warmups.

It wasn’t big. Not even noticeable to anyone else—just a brush of her fingers against mine while Geno was going off about transition defense. But I felt it. I always did. It was the same electric current that hit me every time she stood too close in the dining hall or when we’d sneak into the film room after hours just to sit in silence, backs against the wall, letting the flicker of old game tapes play over our skin.

We’d been doing this for months. Stealing seconds. Living in the margins. Nothing loud. Nothing official. Just a lot of glances that lasted too long and touches that meant too much.

And I was good. We were good. Until we weren’t.

It was after a win, the locker room still echoing with the kind of hype only UConn knows how to generate. Towels tossed, shoes flying, Paige yelling about getting hibachi like it was a birthright, and me? I was in the back with Azzi. Door halfway shut, steam from the showers fogging up the mirror. I had her pressed against the lockers, palms flat on the cold metal, her mouth on mine. It wasn’t rushed. Wasn’t desperate. It was quiet, slow, the kind of kiss that says I missed you even though we saw each other two hours ago.

Then it happened.

A creak. A pause. Then—

“What the hell—” Aubrey. Full volume.

I pulled back just enough to see her standing in the doorway like she’d just walked in on an alien abduction. Eyes wide, mouth open, every tooth in her damn mouth on display like she was in a Colgate commercial. She didn’t blink. She didn’t move. Just stared. First at me. Then at Azzi. Then back. Then she did this little stutter step like she was gonna back out the room but forgot how her legs worked.

Azzi stepped away from me quick, adjusting her jersey like it would somehow erase the fact that I’d just had my tongue halfway down her throat.

Aubrey’s jaw dropped even lower, like her face couldn’t physically contain the drama. “Y’all—y’all together?”

I didn’t say anything. Azzi didn’t either. We just kinda looked at each other like, Well, that’s that.

Next thing I know, Aubrey’s laughing. Like, cackling. She put her hands on her knees like she was trying to breathe through it and goes, “I knew one of y’all was gay but both?! TOGETHER?! Oh my God.”

And because Aubrey’s loud, it didn’t take long.

Paige walks in next, sweating and clueless, with her dumbass backwards hat and says, “Why y’all acting like someone died?” She sees me. Sees Azzi. Sees Aubrey still losing her mind.

And then she freezes.

Like froze, froze.

Tilted her head like a confused golden retriever and went, “Wait… waitwaitwait—y’all kissin’ kissin’?”

KK sprinted from behind her yelling “WHO KISSING? WHO KISSING?” like she smelled gay in the air and wanted a front row seat.

By the time Jana, Ayanna, and Caroline wandered in behind the chaos, it was a full-blown scene.

Jana clutched her chest like she’d been personally betrayed but also looked like she just watched her favorite romance arc bloom in real time.

Ayanna? That girl just smiled and nodded. Real lowkey, real chill. Like she knew and was just waiting on the rest of us to catch up.

Caroline had her “mom who just walked in on the teen daughter and the boyfriend making out” face. Hand to the mouth, soft gasp, blink blink. “Oh… oh wow. Okay.”

I leaned back on the locker, arms crossed, and said, “Y’all done?”

KK yelled, “HELL NO. YOU AND AZZI?!”

I raised an eyebrow. “What about us?”

Paige stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “This been going on?”

Azzi, cool as hell, just goes, “A little while.”

Aubrey screamed again and said, “I knew y’all was sneaky! The way you two be whispering and disappearing at team events like y’all allergic to daylight!”

Jana just kept shaking her head, muttering, “This is better than The Summer I Turned Pretty.” I roll my eyes muttering “what isn’t better then that?”

Ayanna whispered, “It’s giving soulmate energy.”

And Caroline? She just took a deep breath and said, “As long as y’all aren’t sneaking out of curfew together.”

I looked at Azzi.Azzi looked at me.Then she smiled.

I grinned back and said, “Too late.” And the whole room lost it.

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