#I need the dirty bean water

[challahbackboi]

Carden keeps telling me I can't send the intern on a coffee run, but Imma do it--

[josephquinnswhore]

disarmed - joel miller x female reader.

Summary: you’ve been travelling with Joel for months, harbouring feelings for one another. Tommy helps the two of them realise how they feel.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff, mentioned a few times that joel is still grieving Sarah, jealousy, possession, age gap. Joel is in his forties and reader mid-twenties. Post outbreak fic. Reader had some dirty thoughts about joel.

Note: I’ve been awol for three months. Hello friends!! @katiexpunk Part two > testament to you.

"Ain’t gonna give up on me are ya?"

Joel calls out, checking over his shoulder to see if you're still behind him. You two have been travelling for hours, with the crunch of your boots against the snow that began to fall on the previous evening—the first official day of winter. They needed to reach Jackson before a mound of snow covered the area, or otherwise they would never know how long they would be there in this endless stretch of open space. With the possibilities of being stuck in a snowstorm, it dawned on them; the pressure to get to their destination.

Joel's crooked, uneven, scowling facade did nothing to keep you out or to halt your innate desire to preserve yourself by desperately attempting to make a connection with him, but for some reason, you had managed to accomplish what no one else could.

Make him feel affection, which of course, came with the pure unbridled fear at the thought of something happening to you. A fear he had not felt since..

“Not long to go now,” he murmurs, trying not to think about his past, his voice softening as he waits for you to catch up, he can see you are making the effort to keep up, your legs picking up their stride in an attempt to match his pace. Even so, at this rate they wouldn’t make it to Jackson before nightfall.

The weary look you give does nothing to comfort him either, internally, he cant stop any thought about you, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you were feeling, other than the pure exhaustion he could feel radiating from your pained expression and lame movements.

They were nearly at Jackson, to Tommy, after months of travelling and struggling for food, fighting against raiders and infected, Joel had made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to get you to Jackson. They had to make it today, before the sun fell, they were struggling for rations, between them, they had a can of baked beans left, two decades old and barely edible, it's clear to Joel that you’re losing hope.

“I know, not long, right?” You manage to reply after a few moments of thinking to yourself. The two of you had been surviving on scraps for weeks, you couldn't remember what it was like to eat a proper meal. For your stomach not to grumble and ache in hunger.

“When we get to Jackson they’ll have a bed for us, a real bed, probably a proper shower too, an’ food. Somethin’ for us to look forward to.” He glances your way, attempting to lift your spirits.

A crack of a smile stretches your lips, thinking about hot water, a real warm meal. “I don't remember the last time I had a real shower.”

“You’ll be able to finally wash that grease out of your hair too,” he mutters under his breath with a cheeky grin. He could only wonder how bad the two of them must smell at this point. Hes probably grown accustomed to the smell of his own putrid stench. A mix of grease, gunpowder, blood, dirt and body odour. You never complained though.

“Like you can talk, the stench coming from you is foul, old man.” A playful jest comes from you, one that makes joel smile, before feigning offence, he brings his hand to his chest as he scoffs. “Like you're any better.”

His lips turn into a genuine smile as the two of them share a light hearted moment, something that feels like it had been weeks since had happened – he can't help but admit to himself that.. it feels nice. That he enjoys seeing this side of you, that he could be the one to make you happy.

The playful smile on your face slowly slips into the same tight line it had been for weeks on end. The monotonous expression Joel had become so accustomed to.

“Whats on your mind? Somethin’ botherin’ you?” Joel asked, sensing that something was off with you.

“Hm? Oh, no I'm good, just get stuck in my head sometimes I guess.” You manage to excuse yourself.

He knew very well what that was like, he himself spent a lot of time stuck in his head, they were more alike than he had anticipated. “That’s alright, I understand.” He reassures her.

You can't help the way you feel something for him, noting the way his hazel eyes always softened when he looked at you, his voice soft. But the constant fear nagged you, about the age gap, he was in his forties, and you only in your mid twenties. Did he see you as a kid? Did he see you as a woman?

Joel always tried to remind himself that you weren't a little girl, even with the evident age gap between the two, he still saw you as a capable, beautiful woman. He couldn't deny the way he felt when he was the one to make you laugh, those beautiful eyes of yours and how expressive they were. He couldn't deny he felt something for you, which puzzled him, it was a feeling he thought he would never experience.

The snow begins to fall heavier, and with how long they had to go to Jackson, Joel knew it would be best if they stopped for the night, to try and find some shelter for them, for her. As if an otherworldly god hears their thoughts, a small cabin comes into the near distance. You hope wordlessly that Joel would offer to stop for the evening. If not, begrudgingly for a few hours, at least.

He motions for you to follow him, in the direction of the cabin. “That looks like a safe place to camp for the night, whaddya think?” To Joel, this was an easy decision, he was tired of seeing you shiver when you camped outside, clutching to the sleeping bag for a sliver of warmth, the thin material never did much to sooth your chattering teeth. He doesn't want you sleeping outside ever again, if he had any say over the matter.

“You think it’s safe?” Your eyes scan the area, it looks abandoned.

Joel nods as he cracks open the door, scowling as the door creaks open loudly. He leads the way inside the empty cabin, he does a quick scan of the place before he steps inside, out of the snow. Its a fraction warmer inside, something you can appreciate as you close the door behind you.

“Stay close.” He whispers, keeping an eye out, the cabin was clear after searching for a few minutes, it’s a small area, a broken lounge in the same living space as the kitchen. The floorboards in the corner are starting to rot due to a leak in the roof, some of the snow falling through to the inside of the cabin. “Looks like we're all good in here, I’ll look around and see what I can find, we’ll sleep here for the evenin’.”

You shrug off the heavy pack that had been clinging in the same sore spot for hours on end, shoulders aching dully as you roll them, reaching your hands back to massage the sore spots. Your fingers are cold and stiff as you unclip your sleeping bag from your pack, setting it up in the small kitchen area, away from the corner that has a small leak in the roof.

“This place ain't so bad, better than most places we been sleepin’.” Before Joel can relax, he eyes a bookcase, it's large enough to cover the front door, with one push it topples over, with a grunt, the bookshelf falls securely over the front door, keeping them safe inside.

You look around a little in the kitchen, seeing some old trinkets covered in a thick layer of dust, a windchime, it creates a beautiful twinkle as your fingers caress the cold material, clanging against each other. Going through the draws, you have a look at a faded image, picking it up to inspect it, your heart drops, the image depicts a young family, two parents and a small baby, all smiling into the camera, in this very kitchen where you stood now.

You can’t help but wonder how long ago they resided here. If they were still alive.

“Must’ve been a family’s cabin…” His eyes glance at the photo as he leans down to rummage through the cupboards, finding a few cans of veggies that had been left behind, he sets it down on the bench next to you. “We made out pretty good on food this time. Are you hungry?”

Shakily, you return the photo back to where you found it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“You okay?” He asks, sensing the uneasiness in your voice. He grabs the tin cans of food and skillfully pops the lids open with his knife, handing a can of food to her. He nods towards their sleeping bags and they both sit down on the floor, he can't ignore the ache in his back and knees as he stretches his legs out on the floor. He tried not to think about it, sitting here with you on the hardwood floors eating out of a two decade old can of veggies was nothing worth complaining about, compared to the hell you two had endured over the months.

They were together at least. They made it this far.

“Yeah, I guess. Just doesn't get easier, you know? Thinking about it. They had a baby.” Hesitantly, you start eating with Joel, who seems silent.

He eventually nods in agreement. “Not everyone makes it.” He speaks quietly, even after all this time, he still mourns, he's been reminded of his loss time and time again, the image of the family was no exception.

They eat in silence, and you set the empty can beside your sleeping bag, sighing as you snuggle into the little warmth it provides. “Try and get some rest, we’ll head out at first light.”

“Goodnight Joel.”

He watches you settle, a small grunt escapes him as he keeps his rifle close, he leans against the wall. “Goodnight darlin’.”

“I'm sorry about your daughter Joel.” You whisper, before sparing him a glance and rolling over away from him. Joel watched you, the words pierce him, memories of his daughter haunt him, but he can't blame you. “Yeah, me too.” He mutters under his breath.

Joel stays awake, he's too restless to sleep at the thought of Sarah, losing her, relieving the pain and anguish of twenty years without her. Yet, the pain was as palpable as it was the night it happened.

The sun rises, and Joel rolls his sleeping bag, clipping it onto his pack. He notices you stirring awake. “Mornin’.” He grumbles tiredly. He stretches his neck, a loud crunch fills the air. “We should get goin’. I want to get to Jackson before midday.” He groaned as he stood, his knees clicking into place, worn and aching, the cold didn't help.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and pack the sleeping bag up quickly, not wanting to make Joel wait, he seemed pretty restless. Joel shoves the bookshelf off the door, opening it and takes a weary step outside into the daylight. He couldn't wait to see Tommy, he couldn't stop thinking about a shower, and a decent meal. They had been surviving in the wilderness for so long, Joel wasn't sure what he would do being back in civilization.

You pause in the doorway, watching Joel walk outside, his worn boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Just.. just wait a sec.” You wearily call out to him, looking back inside the cabin.

“What is it?” Joel asked, stopping in his tracks, turning to look back at you, a confused look on his face. You take a few quickened steps back into the cabin, pulling the drawer out to find the photograph of the family, before rushing outside to meet Joel. “Someone should remember them.”

Joel looks between you and the cabin, wondering what on earth you were doing. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, his voice gruff and full of confusion. He stands there for what felt like forever, watching as you return with the faded photograph in your hand. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

You shove the photograph into the back pocket of your jeans. “Ready to go?”

Joel looks at you, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Yeah.” He motions for you to continue walking, he tries to push behind the thought of the family as they walk from the cabin. For some reason, there was a warmth in his chest, at your actions, something so miniscule could show the kind of person you were. Perhaps not all hope was lost with someone so compassionate like you left in the world.

It was relatively quiet between the two of you for the rest of the trip, only a few miles, the snowfall had come to a halt overnight, so the snow wasn't much of an obstacle, being so far away from any town, there were near to no infected, nor other people.

Finally, ahead, there it was. They had finally made it to Jackson, to Tommy.

“Shit. This is Jackson?” You ask in wonder, taking in the heavily fortified walls, the men patrolling on the walls with rifles. A haven.

“Sure as hell looks like it.” Joel felt himself finally relax, for the first time in months, even if only for a moment, they had made it. “C’mon, we can get inside before the snow starts comin’ down again.” He picks up his pace towards the gate.

“Are you sure they'll let us in?” You knew Tommy was here, but the anxiety of being turned away was palpable. Joel glances back, reassuring you with a small smile. “Dont worry darlin’, Tommy knows we’re comin’.”

The gates open, and the hinges whine in protest.

“Joel, you ugly bastard is it really you?” A southern voice calls out, as the gate opens, and you watch as a man embraces Joel, similar in looks, if anything, less grey hair. “The hell took you so long?” The man asked, a joyous tone in his voice as he embraced Joel.

“Yeah, were not easy but we made it.” Joel huffed out a laugh. Tommy waves his hand, a brief gesture for the pair to follow him inside. Tommy looks over Joel’s shoulder as they walk. “Who’s this?”

You stand behind Joel, a meek smile on your lips as you introduce yourself. Tommy smirks at Joel. Joel's face reddened, his younger brother’s stare made him heat up.

“Just get us set up Tommy.” Joel muttered, avoiding the amused gaze from his brother. Tommy’s wolfish grin doesn't slip. “Sure thing, follow me.”

The odd interaction does not go missed as you watch the pair, following them to a house that Tommy had organised specifically for Joel. Tommy lets them into the house to look around and Joel speaks up. “We've been out in the wild for a long while, and we're happy to finally be able to settle down for a bit.” Joel explains, looking at Tommy.

“I can imagine. Well, i'll leave ya alone to settle in for now. Were havin’ a get together later tonight at the hall, you should come. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from each other for a bit.” Tommy jests.

You look between the two men, confused. “So where am I going to be staying?” You knew that Joel would probably want to be away from you, now that he had done his part in bringing you here safely.

Joel's head snapped in your direction and he stared at you for a moment. “With me.” He said, a little too quickly. “You'll be staying with me, here.” Joel’s eyes dart back to Tommy as if he was warning him against some smart arsed response. He looked a little embarrassed.

It didn't take an idiot to notice the glance you and Joel shared. Tommy smiled ear to ear as he watched the interaction between you two. “Alright.. Well you two can get settled here. Holler at me if you need anything, alright?”

As Joel nods, Tommy steps outside the house, leaving the pair alone again. Setting your pack down, you admire the house. “Nice place..”

Joel hums, nodding in agreement, setting his pack down next to your own. “Its alot nicer than where we've been campin’. And there's electricity.” Looking at the light Tommy had flickered on when he walked in.

“You mean we can shower?” Joel grins in amusement at your sudden excitement. “Hot water and all princess, why don't you go on and have the first shower?” The bathroom itself was simple, but it felt surreal to have electricity and running water.

“Are you sure?” Joel nods, “I can wait, its all yours.”

Joel closes the bathroom door behind you, and explores the bedroom, ruffling through the closet as he decides what to wear to this stupid get together tonight.

The hot water feels incredible, soothing the aches in your body, as you lather the vanilla scented soap, spreading the suds to wash the grime off your body. The colour of the water that runs down the drain is appalling, dark brown from grease and dirt. The shampoo is fruity, and a divine smelling scent you hadn't ever smelt in your lifetime. Lathering the clear concoction, you take your time to scrub the grease and disgusting things that stick to your strands of hair and scalp.

Its almost painful to shut the water off, but you know that Joel deserves to experience the hot water too, stepping out, you run your hand over the fogged up mirror, and hardly recognise yourself.

You slip on the clothes that had been provided for you, dark wash jeans and a long sleeved, tight fitting brown shirt. It accentuates your body shape wonderfully.

You look like a brand new woman as you emerge into the bedroom seeing Joel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

Joel looks up at you, his eyes widening as he takes in your form. You were even more beautiful than before, you looked radiant. He quickly stood, clearing his throat and he tried to keep his composure. “Hey darlin’.” He manages to utter out, his voice a little low.

Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze, hazel eyes roaming your body. “You gonna have a shower before we go?”

Joel glances down at himself, he now looked completely filthy compared to her, realisation sinking in.

“Y-yeah I think I will.. I can wash up in a minute.” As he looks back up at you, he notices your lingering gaze on him.

Were you checking him out too?

The tension is broken as Joel walks to the bathroom, taking his turn for the shower. Your mind wonders as the water runs, wondering what Joel looks like under all those clothes, if the hairs on his chest travel all the way down his torso, wondering if his tanned skin is the same delicious colour all over. A soft groan echos through the bathroom, gartering your attention, ears perking at the wonderfully intimate noise.

Something inside of you tingles in excitement at the thought, it's a hard thought to squash as you put your boots on. Joel's hair was damp, slicked back, the greying strands on his temple looked lighter than ever. The green and red flannel shirt hugged his torso and arms snugly, the jeans looked a size too small, clinging to his thick muscular thighs. His hazel eyes stared down at you as you looked him over, admiring him, he cant quite read the expression on your face.

Now it was your turn to play it cool, clearing your throat. “Ready to go?” Joel was still trying to come out of his haze as he stared at you, still trying to process the way you were checking him out. “Y-yeah…” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, let's.. Let's go..”

The hall is set up nicely, small bulbs hang from the ceiling emit a full yellow hue, there's an old record player, with vinyls underneath the bench it’s set up on, the melody of an old song echos through the hall as they walk in together, they gain some looks, from people dancing, young and old. Joel is brought into another hug by Tommy as he greets them. “Hey, look at you!” Tommy grinned. “You clean up nice.”

You silently agree, Joel looked as handsome as ever.

Joel's face runs hot as he hears Tommy’s tease, turning a rosy pink across his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to maintain his composure. “Shut it, Tommy…” Joel muttered. Tommy grinned as he watched his brother's reaction, his eyes then shifting to you. “And you… look beautiful tonight.”

Joel watches your reaction to his brother's compliment, seeing you squirm a little. “Thanks Tommy. So… what exactly is this?”

Tommys grin remained as he motioned for you both to follow. “It's a get together, we do them to blow off a little bit of steam every once in a while, you know how it is.” Joel grunts in annoyance, not enthralled by the idea of being social, nor in the judgemental gaze of the community folk.

Your eyes follow the couples as they dance to the music. A sense of yearning overcomes you, wishing it were you and Joel dancing so intimately. It's something Tommy notices.

“What, you want to dance, girl?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips. Joel's eyes widened as he tried to get his attention. “Tommy…” He muttered in warning, his voice a low grumble.

You didn't decline tommys suggestion. “You offerin’?” Perhaps, if anything, you would be lucky enough to make Joel jealous.

Tommy nods, taking you by the hand as he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, away from Joel. “Of course.”

Joel could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him. He wouldn't admit that he was starting to become jealous at the sight of his brother dancing with you.

You and Tommy dance, occasionally sneaking glances at Joel, who still looked unimpressed by the situation. Tommy laughs whenever he sees Joel’s scowling face, enjoying winding his brother up. Tommy took his turn to tease you. “So… what's it like travelling with my grumpy ass brother?”

“He's not grumpy with me.” You answer simply. This, Tommy raises a brow at. “Oh really?” He glanced over her shoulder at his brother, who was now glowering at the pair. “Looks real grumpy to me..” He teased, letting out a small chuckle.

“Only cause you're pickin’ on him.” You counter.

“You're probably right.” It wasn't uncommon for Tommy to tease his older brother like this, the more he saw how annoyed Joel was becoming, the more he wanted to keep this up.

“I like him, alot.” You murmur between the two of you. Tommy’s teasing expression dies down, shifting to an expression of empathy. He was quiet in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I can tell…” he glances at joel. “He's got it bad for you too.”

“Thats a lie if I’ve ever heard it, Tommy Miller.” You scoff.

Tommy’s brows furrowed a little as he scoffs as your disbelief.”You can't seriously tell me you're that naive, it's obvious he likes you, girl.” Joel's gaze darkens, eyes fixated on them from across the hall.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“Have you seen the look on his face? He's got this…” Tommy gestured to his own face. “...stupid look on his face since we've been dancin’. And he's lookin’ like hes seconds away from murderin’ me.”

You shrug. “He's just protective of me.”

“And how do you two interact?” Tommy asked. “Like, he dont seem too fond of me touchin’ you.” Joel's eyes flicker down to the way his younger brother's hand held your waist.

“I’m guessin’ you got some kind of plan, then, to prove me wrong?”

Tommy’s face lit up when you say this. “What do you think, girl? Are you up for it?”

A groan leaves your lips. “What’re you thinkin’?”

Tommy smirks, gently and suddenly twirls you, bringing you flush to his chest, the action makes Joel scowl. “We’re gonna piss him off just enough for him to come over. Sound good?”

You don’t miss Joel's reaction, maybe it did mean something..

“Okay, let's see what you got.”

Tommy grins, he pulls you close to him, dipping his head down to your ear, whispering. “You tell me if he gets too annoyed for yer likin’... I don’t wanna cross no boundaries.”

Tommy is an impressive dancer, you admit, and as nice as it is to be spun around the dance floor, your mind wonders what it would be like to dance with Joel, how he would hold you, where he would place his hands, how firm his grip would be.

Tommy dips you, making sure to keep a tight grip around your waist, and his body as close to yours as he could manage without dropping you, Tommy leans in, his nose close to yours. “Bit dramatic don't you think?” You mutter, eyeing tommy. There was a chance Joel would kill Tommy for this, and Tommy leans in, as if he was intent on kissing you.

That was it for Joel, he reached his breaking point, watching as his younger brother's actions grew more bold and more suggestive. As soon as he saw how close you two were, how intimate that moment looked, he pushed his way through the dancefloor, barging people that were dancing to get to them. Tommy’s plan seemed to work, getting the reactive reaction out of Joel, your eyes widened as Tommy straightens you up, the older Miller brother approached them.

“Now you've done it.” You mumble.

“Oh no, what have I done?” Tommy teases. Before he could say anything else.. Joel yanks Tommy’s shoulder, separating him from you.

Joel lets out a low growl, pushing Tommy further away from you. “What’re you tryna pull, Tommy?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Tommy protests, shrugging his shoulder out of Joel's grasp. “I’m not pullin’ nothin’. I was dancin’ with the girl, is that a crime?” Joel grits his teeth together, trying to stop himself from punching his own brother.

“He wasn't doing anything Joel.” You murmur softly, trying to calm the man down, but it seems to only agitate Joel that you seemed to defend Tommy’s actions.

His nostrils flare as he looks at you. “You're takin’ his side then?”

“Hey, come on, it ain't like that.”

His irritation grows, did you really think this was okay? That this was just friendly dancing? “You really think he was just dancin’?” He mocked.

Your brows furrow as you sense Joel’s rising irritation towards you, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “Yes, that's exactly what I think.”

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest, this was not going the way he wanted. “He was all up on you and you think this is innocent? You’re more naive than I thought.” He sneers, a low grumble leaving his lips.

It hurts, hearing Joel talk to you like this, and you shove past them before he can see the tears welling in your eyes. Tommy stops Joel from chasing after you.

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, turning to look at him. “Get outta the way, Tommy.”

“She likes you, Joel.” Tommy said, his hand not leaving his older brother's chest, needing him to listen.

Joel rolls his eyes, not believing that statement for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. She was just humouring you.” He tries to push past Tommy again.

“It was my idea joel. I thought if I turned up the heat a little you'd show her you're sweet on her.”

“...what?” Joel's face flushed pink hearing that. “You.. you were just trying to…” When he realised that this little stunt was all an attempt to show that they liked each other, it surprised him, was it so obvious?

“You know I wouldn't dream of makin’ a move on yer girl. Go on now, get her and tell her how you feel before she runs off on ya.”

Joel stares at his brother for a moment as his words sank in. Once it did, he nodded, understanding now that this was an attempt to try and make Joel admit his feelings for you. He didn't say another word as he turned out of the hall, rushing back to the home where he knew you would be.

You felt humiliated by the entire thing, by Joel being angry at you, he had never looked at you with that look of unbridled anger. It was always directed towards other people, the ones that had tried to hurt you. Never you.

Joel’s footsteps are heavy, easily recognisable to you. As he makes his way to you, where you’re packing your things into your pack, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks.

He calls your name, and you don’t respond, shoving things angrily into your pack, you know he’s at the bedroom door, watching you.

His heart sinks as he watches you, he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out to touch your shoulder, in an attempt to stop you. “Stop.” He muttered softly. “Stop packin’ yer things.”

When you don’t listen, Joel takes the pack from your hand and tosses it across the room, your possessions all spilling out into the wooden floor. “What the hell is your problem?” You snap.

“Would you just stop it?” He exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. He grabs your arm, firmly enough to garner your attention. Spinning you to look at him. “Why are you doin’ this?”

“You humiliated me!” You quip, voice trembling.

He exhaled, the warmth of his breath fans on your cheeks. “Listen..” he muttered. “Whatever you thought happened, it was the complete opposite. Tommy told me the whole plan, he was.. tryin’ to make me admit somethin’ to myself.. to you.”

Your cheeks warm as you realise Tommy snitched. “..oh.”

His large hands reach out to cup your face, turning your face upright, so your gaze would meet his own. “I care about you a lot…” he spoke after a moment, his expression softening. “I know I’m not real good at showin’ it, but I really..”

“I really do like you, darlin’.”

You sputter a response. “Tommy.. was right?”

Joel nods, his expression growing bashful as he tries to hide his embarrassment with a small snort. “Yeah.. stupid bastard was right.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to stumble over his words. “Have done since I saved ya all them months ago.” He confessed.

His hand runs through his hair again, something you’ve picked up as an anxious tick of his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

It was a question Joel hadn’t really thought of himself, until now. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable..” he admits. “I’m just… not really like that.”

It certainly wasn’t the first time he had trouble opening up about his feelings, but he wanted you to understand that he wanted to try, with you.

“Especially with.. the way the world is now.. I thought I shouldn’t get myself tied up in somethin’ that could just get me hurt later.”

The words that went unspoken, you understood. He was afraid of losing you. And suddenly, her eyes softened. “What changed? Seein’ me with Tommy?”

It was an embarrassing truth, one that he had to face. “Yeah..” he agreed, glancing away from you a moment. “It felt like someone was just punchin’ me in the guts. Seein’ you dancin’ with him I felt..” he groans. “Jealous.”

Unintentionally, you bat your lashes at him. “I was so convinced you wouldn’t like me, I made such a fool of myself.”

His brows scrunch together as he realises how his actions made you feel. He gently takes your face in his large hands, his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing motion.

“Hey, you didn’t do any of that…” he murmured. “If anything I shoulda told ya ages ago.”

With his reassurance, you wrap your arms around his midsection, fisting the soft material of his flannel on his back. He doesn’t resist, although he relaxes from his tense stance, bringing his own arms around you. “How about we start over an’ I’ll do this proper?”

Your eyes widen, looking up at him. “Proper?”

He couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his lips, your words make his heart flutter. “Y’know.. with you as my girl…” he murmurs nervously. “If.. if you’d like that?”

“I would like that.” You accept without hesitation, your voice soft as Joel leans his chin on your head, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t ever try an’ run off again. I’ll hog tie ya to the bed if I have ta.” A soft laugh leaves your lips at his threat, and you raise a brow.

“That right? Maybe I’ll take off one day, just to test you.” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a daring look in his eyes, arms tightening around you as he lifts you off the ground effortlessly, tossing you onto the plush bed.

“Yer mine now sweetheart, ain’t letting you go, ever.” He murmurs against your neck, hovering over you, pressing a small kiss to the soft skin of your temple.

“Mine till the day I die.” He growled possessively, the tender touch was a concise movement, one that contradicted his possession.

Somehow, you had disarmed him. And from now on, Joel wasn’t going to fight it.

[murdrdocs]

repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace

oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall

— 🦣

🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.

just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.

so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.

out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.

but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."

you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"

luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."

and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.

and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.

you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.

which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.

"there's ... things better than that out there?"

you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.

and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.

at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.

one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.

and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.

he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.

and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi! Can I have a croissant alongside a banana bread with a side of vodka shot with Toto Wolff please?

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i write for more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you to his anon for the lovely order and i hope you love it! this was a pleasure to write!! <3

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), horner!reader, daddy kink, daddy issues, yacht sex, references to lestappen, clothed male/naked woman

rumors were a dirty thing on the grid. they could hurt people and there were efforts to keep them from spreading too far. this was less of a rumor and more of an open secret that no one really acknowledged.

if they did, that meant having to know that chrisitan horner's daughter was sleeping with toto wolff.

you liked toto, you had for some time. there was something about him that drew you in. those large hands, that smile, how determined he was to his job. he was a dedicated man.

just like he was dedicated to making you feel good in all aspects.

it was summer break for formula one, and while your father was in england for the time being. you were in monaco under the guise of seeing friends. your father was hesitant to let you go away for so long, it was a long time away.

"be safe. not too much partying. i need you to call me or at least text me. and if any of those driver boys try to get too close, do not hesitate to hit, punch or whatever."

you nodded as you held you carry on bag close to your chest, "i know, daddy. don't worry!" it wasn't even like you had any interest in any of those drivers, older than you were like old man and younger than you were like annoying younger brothers.

plus, you were already taken.

not that your father knew that. when you hugged him before getting into the car to the airport, you felt giddy. you were constantly texting toto when you got on the phone. thankfully the plane ride wasn't too long and your loving boyfriend met you at the airport in nice.

you giggled and ran into the man's arms.

it was a beautiful sunny afternoon when toto took you out on the boat. but his eyes were on more than just the water as he got everything ready. the sight of you in a white two-piece swimsuit.

you giggled when he took you by the waist, the boat still at the dock. you curled into him and held onto the front of his white button up.

he said to you as he took you by the chin, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you shook your head, "no, no. he thinks i'm with friends. i have to get verstappen to cover for me so my father will be less worried." you got on your tip-toes and kissed him on the lips.

"oh, so you told verstappen. i thought this was supposed to be a secret."

you tapped your lover's nose, "mutual agreement." you giggled, "if he tried to go to the press about us." you smiled brightly, "i have something ten times worse."

toto got closer to in your space and asked, "and what exactly what would that be?" curiosity got the best of him. usually he didn't get into the affairs of drivers, especially if they weren't working for him.

you shrugged, "remember that text message i got from him about that emergency, because he was stuck at that hotel near where we were?"

toto's hands rubbed your shoulders as he said, "yes. i remember that."

"yeah, he was stuck with leclerc." you smiled, "so, we have a mutual agreement to not spill the beans about the other." you leaned in to kiss toto on the lips, "my father may have a meltdown if he knew we were together. he'd burst a blood vessel if charles and max came out." but you said, "i'm happy for them." then kissed toto on the lips again.

the man wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. he enjoyed the feeling of your lips against him. your body warmed from the sun against him.

you were barely clothed and he was still in a button up and pants. he placed a large hand on your ass and gave it a squeeze. he looked down at you and smiled, "you look very beautiful." he said to you.

"you're not too bad yourself. i thought about wearing that 'tacky' swimsuit i got online that one time just to rile you up." you giggled.

toto's lips were on your neck as he placed both hands on your ass. then gave the cheeks a squeeze, "i told you to not wear that."

it was a two piece swimsuit that was barely held together by strings. but the pattern on the cups and bottoms were of off-brand hot sauce bottles. toto had bought you so many nice swimsuits over your time together, so there was no need to wear it.

"but, why it shows how spicy i am." you winked.

he groaned and shook his head, "schatzi, please." he got you on the couch that was on the deck and had his hands on your hips. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.

you two were in the semi-public, but it would be hard to see unless someone is right next to the boat. it only made it more erotic to you, the possibility of someone seeing.

you straddled his waist and rubbed your barely clothed pussy up against his lap which made the older man groan. he knew that this shouldn't be happening. it was bad enough he was wrapped around the fingers of a woman young enough to be his daughter, but on top that you were the daughter of one of his bigger rivals.

but the way you melted in his arms and rubbed against his cock made him feel otherwise, in all fairness, you were a legal adult who could make her own choices. even if your father was a little protective.

you kissed him square on the mouth and he took you by the hips. he rubbed his clothed cock up against you. you groaned a little bit and kissed him more.

"you're prettier when you're on top." he chuckled as he massaged your hips, "but you always know that you could end up underneath me at anytime. because you're a good girl, right? my good girl."

you nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you rubbed up a little further and said, "of course, toto."

he reached and tapped your nose, "toto?" he tilted his head to the side, "there's another name you like to call me, no?"

you swallowed, "you're an insatiable old man."

he pressed himself further against you and replied, "i may be, schatzi. but i'm still your daddy."

you blushed further before you took off the swimsuit top and he groped at your breasts with his large hands. he groaned a little bit before he grabbed onto your hips then pushed down the bottoms off of you.

you were naked and working to get toto's cock out of his pants. you swallowed when you caught sight of it. you stroked it softly and he shuddered. all you had to say about his cock was that it was proportionate to his over six foot frame.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said.

"mmm, please." you whimpered.

he rubbed the back of your head and smiled at you as you gazed at his cock. you two were out in the open, but had a bit of privacy to continue your little affairs. you kissed him deeply as he seated you onto his cock.

his jaw tensed at the feeling of your slick pussy around his cock. you were a dream, he couldn't believe that horner's daughter was the woman of his dreams. but as he groped your soft flesh, that didn't matter. all he wanted was you, he wanted the pretty little thing that bounces on his cock with ease.

you whimpered and dug your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. you rolled your hips up and down his cock. you said, "shit, daddy! ah! please"

he hissed through his teeth when his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he groaned and buried his face into your breasts as he moved against you.

the two of you moved in time with each other. you could feel his teeth against your breasts which only turned you on more. he felt so good, it was like a little addiction.

"daddy, ah!" you whimpered.

"you're so beautiful." he said, "when i saw you on the track, it took everything in my power not to lead you away from your father and fuck the daylights out of you."

you groaned, "c'mon daddy, don't talk about him right now. i need your cock more than anything." you whimpered as you continued to move up and down on his cock.

it felt so snug inside of you and the pace you were using was rough. but it excited you, it made you hot all over. your breasts bounced in front of his face, it was very hot.

"fuck, please. you are so fucking good, daddy. it's not fair. no one else has ever been able to fuck me the way you do." you whined. your sexual history was primarily made up of interactions with toto.

he had to taught you most of what you knew about sex, at least in a pleasurable sense. he was the first person to make you cum. you thought that orgasms were reserved for you and your toys. but toto proved you wrong.

"i need you daddy." you whimpered.

"you have me." he replied as he continued to kiss you. his kisses lingered on your collarbones as you rode him. it felt so good. he was a divine lover.

you kept up your pace and felt the pleasure course through your body. your pretty tits bounced with each movement. you looked so nice naked, he loved the sight of your body.

you fit him like a glove.

his kisses were sloppy as you dug your nails into his shoulders. the pleasure bounced in his head as he moved against you. his cock hitting all the right places.

"please, daddy. i only want you. i never want to fuck anyone else."

he grabbed you by the head and said, "good, because no one else will ever touch you."

you soon climaxed, your voice filled the open air. but toto pulled you into a searing kiss, his grip on you was tight as he bullied his cock into your poor bruised cunt. you'd be feeling it all by morning. he continued his movements against you. you panted wildly and felt the flash of heat through your body. you moaned, "please, daddy."

"i've got you, schatzi." he said then groaned.

you slowed down your pace and rested against your lover's chest. you could feel his quick pulse. you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. but it didn't take long before he started to thrust up into you again.

he groaned, "i need you more, schatzi." he gripped onto your hips tightly and moved up into you, "i only have a few weeks with you before you have to go back to your father. and i want to make sure i've touched all over you, and you don't forget my touch."

you moaned, you wouldn't mind going another round. or maybe another three rounds. after all, you needed your daddy. and you wanted to make sure you that you felt every inch of him in return.

when he groped your ass, you squirmed.

"please, daddy. i need you."

-

the end of the summer break spelled the dutch grand prix. hamilton and russell were sitting waiting for their time to get going. russell looked at his teammate and asked, "did you see wolff?"

"what's going on with him?"

russell stretched out on the couch and little, "saw him with horner's daughter during break. i passed by his boat and found her in next to nothing."

"ah, c'mon, now you're just spreading rumors!" hamilton got closer, "but i am curious to know what you apparently saw there, mate." rumors were a dirty thing on the grid, but sometimes the information was just too delicious. <3

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter twelve

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

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

Word count: 18k (hehe)

Warnings: this is so long i don’t know that i remember every single thing i must’ve included here but i’ll try my best lol. angst!! this is a very angsty chappie but it’s needed ok? so sad so sexy oc. jungkook is a dick twice!! for like a second but its bc he’s scared :( & stressed. Unprotected sex (don't!!! xo). they dirty talk a lot acc. i think thats it? i hope thats it lol. 

Author’s note: it’s a sunday and we have a new tbah chapter!! thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for waiting. and for giving me such a warm welcome and giving my writing so much love, even amidst my absence. i really hope you guys enjoy this installment of to build a home! i poured my heart on this and i enjoyed it so, so much. it felt like the good old days!! do let me know what you thought - i feel like there’s so much to UNPACK for this one. i love you guys x a million. thank u for reading <3 

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

Chapter Twelve

The sun stirs you awake this morning, its rays sneaking their way inside your room with every gust of wind that makes the curtains dance and the moment you regain the smallest bit of consciousness, you know it’s too early. You’re not meant to be awake for another hour or so but after a minute of tossing and turning, you begin to feel the sleep drift out of you. Your mind fills with thoughts and things to do, feelings and their unresolved natures. It’s Monday, after all, lots to do, lots to feel and certainly lots to confront. 

You slip out of the comfort of your blankets and pillows, putting your headphones over your head and pressing shuffle on the first playlist you find, cranking the volume a little too high in hopes that it will quieten the sea of thoughts that begin to whirlwind inside your mind. You make your way to the kitchen and almost miss the peace and quiet of six a.m., specially here. When the world is still asleep and it’s just you and you can let yourself fall into the long process of making yourself a cup of coffee. More than a process, you’d call it a ritual. You find it good to just stare at your hands at work, resilient in providing sweet satisfaction in a matter of minutes. And so, despite the lack of peace and quiet this morning provides, you get to work. Grinding the coffee beans until they’re silky smooth, pouring the water into the bottom of your italian press and putting it all back together to rest at the stove top. Until all there’s left to do is wait. Wait, wait, wait… 

“I love you.”

You wish it was those mere words that were pressing on you. But it was more. It was the way you felt his body weight on top of yours grow tense. The way the seconds felt like minutes, and then hours, until not even in proximity could you feel him close. How the air felt dense around you and your nerves got the best of you. 

“You don’t have to say it back. I’d say it was a heat of the moment thing but… I don’t think that makes any difference.” 

It all echoes inside of your head. Inside of your chest. Your words, the stutter, the awkward laughter that followed as you tried to brace yourself for whatever came next. Only nothing did. 

He didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back when the high came down and you both wrapped your bodies around each other. He didn’t say it back as he kissed you, slowly and with that lazy characteristic that takes on when he’s sleepy, but not less filled with intention. He fell asleep first, his body impossibly flushed to yours, your fingers carded in his hair for hours as you laid awake, unable to reconcile sleep. 

He didn’t say it back when his lips on your cheeks woke you up the next morning. It was sweet, your mind blank with the exception of the bliss his touch basked you in. He kissed and touched, he pleased. But he didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back throughout the day but by then your mind had fallen at ease, taking you by surprise, even. It was a lazy Sunday morning that turned into a lazy Sunday afternoon, nothing but peace and leisure as the three of you spent the day by the pool. Snacking on whatever the season had turned ripe and sweet. It was a perfect summer day and as Soori splashed about and you looked into each other’s eyes in pride and joy, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to tell you.

But he didn’t say it back. Not when you said goodbye after putting Soori to sleep, not when he kissed you and said he’d see you tomorrow. Not when you turned around, stealing one last glance at him, lingering for a second too long in awe of his beauty as he smiled and leaned by his doorframe, taking you in. Not even when he called you to make sure you’d gotten home safe and his silence and yours filled the line right as you were about to hang up. And then you didn’t, and you waited, until the line disconnected. 

Your coffee overheats as you go back and forth, one cruel thought after the other, and it’s the lid jumping and splashing the liquid everywhere that brings you back to your small kitchen. 

“Shit.” You remove the pot from the stove and let it rest for a minute as you clean up the mess. Getting lost in your thoughts again because, hey, at least you woke up early, so as to give you enough time to let the overthinking make you clumsy. 

Ten different things go wrong before you’re finally able to sit down on your couch, freshly brewed iced americano in one hand, your journal and pen in another. All you need to do is let your thoughts leave you. Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do. You need to come back to yourself as you sip your coffee slowly and fill an entire page worth of your feelings. It’s catharsis in it’s purest form. A foul-proof method, at that. 

Only it isn’t. You fill the pages with sentences like,

Why didn’t he say it?

I should’ve not acted like it meant nothing to me. It meant the world to me. 

He means the world to me.

I love him. 

Does he not love me back?

And the one that filled the pages the most,

Why doesn’t he love me back?

And by the time you’re ready to leave the house, you’re still a ball of unresolved emotions and a chaotic neutral feeling taking over your every being because all you want to do is scream but you’re running late to see the root of all your problems. 

~

Thankfully, the root of all your problems walks inside his kitchen that morning holding what you believe is the cure of all that is wrong in the world: his daughter. 

“Oh my God, you look so cute,” and she does. A smile that makes you melt, two pigtails held by tiny pink bows and an oversized Winnie The Pooh t-shirt that brings her whole look together. “Good morning, baby.”

The moment she falls into your arms you feel an ease run through you that makes you submit to the harsh edges of the world, waving white flag. She’s foul-proof magic and method. 

“Good morning,” he says, giving you a smile that almost washes away your uncertainties. 

“Good morning.” You take Soori from his arms and return the smile, but he can tell it’s not quite there yet. Not that he thinks much of it – your morning meet ups in the kitchen are always cordial but not overly so, you wouldn’t want Mrs. Chae to suspect anything. – 

“I have a busy week coming up.”

“You do?” It’s a question that translates to, you didn’t mention that and Jungkook doesn’t miss it in your tone. 

 “Yeah. So I’ll probably be home a bit late. No more than an hour, though, is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks!” He’s nonchalant as he walks up to the kitchen island, greeting Mrs. Chae and moving quickly through his iced americano. 

He leans against the counter, scrolling down his phone, not a care in the world. A particular sip has him choking on his coffee and he coughs a little. Inside, you smile. And yes, that’s not the proudest you’ve been of a feeling but can you be blamed? He doesn’t look like his coffee splashed all over his kitchen counter this morning because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he confessed his love to you and you didn’t say it back. Matter of fact, not saying it back is the least of your concerns. He didn’t say anything! No reaction, nothing. You hope he chokes on his coffee again. It’s harmless, in your defense, most women would be hoping for bloodier, more treacherous things. He’s lucky you don’t- 

“‘Kay. Gotta go. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae!” He walks over to you, taking Soori from your arms and showering her cheeks with kisses as he makes his way to the doorway. She’s getting better at the goodbye part of the mornings but Mondays are always tricky. 

“Have a nice day.” You smile, a bit forcibly. 

“Aw,” he frowns, pouting, and you think he almost gets it, but no. “You tired, baby? Mondays can be hard.”

You want to gasp. No, really, it takes all the strength in you not to gasp. “Yeah, slept horribly, actually.”

“Take it easy today. You two should take a nap in my bed.” You nod and agree and he hugs you after he passes Soori to you, pulling her in as well. It’s a little three-way-hug and it makes your heart feel a little comfort, even amidst the chaos. 

“You take it easy, too.” Your hand finds his and you squeeze, even if for a second. 

“Bye, baby.” He kisses you. “Bye, baby!” He kisses Soori. And off he goes. 

This is pretty much what your entire week looks like. Going to bed late, head swimming in thoughts. Waking up an hour before your alarm rings, head swimming in the said thoughts. Breakfast before Lucy is up, so you can leave right as she wakes up, because a part of you knows she’d know, and that you couldn’t handle it. Lucy cares. Lucy would ask you a thousand questions, or encourage you to talk about it, or she would simply wrap you up in a hug that would send tears to your eyes that would turn into full on sobs by the time she was done putting her loving on you. So you lie to her; tell her Jungkook needs to be at the office earlier this week, and she buys it, no questions asked. 

 You walk half of your commute, and then take the bus, mainly to kill time. On Wednesday you think you could probably just take the bus right away, be early, make up some excuse to Mrs. Chae and go up the stairs, to his bedroom. You could watch Soori for him as he gets ready, you could take him in as he prepares for the day, you could ask him to be five minutes late so he can kiss you silly and extinguish the fire of doubt that keeps growing thicker, taller flames inside your heart. But, could you? Could you do all that? Have you fallen into enough familiarity as to do that? You thought you had, now you’re not so sure. 

Spiraling. That’s what your week looks like. You meet him in the kitchen, bask in the peace Soori brings you the moment she wraps her arms around you (she’s a hugger now) and try to suppress the witty remarks that threaten to leave your mouth, fueled by sarcasm and anger, every time you speak to him. But most days, you’re just sad. So sad you have to fake a smile, or make a grand effort to hold a conversation. Not that you have many. Jungkook is busy, morning and night. Something about a new property they’re getting ready to acquire - a future addition to The West End Collection. Each day the stress and tiredness reflects on him more, his energy plummeting. He says something about timezones and having to reply to emails at three a.m. so you assume it’s an international transaction. Nonetheless, it’s all assumption, you guys barely talk. And you get it. Jungkook is a busy man – he owns hotels, for Christ’s Sake! – And under any other circumstance, his distance and your lack of communication combined wouldn’t worry you, it’d simply be that, circumstantial. But right now, all it does is fuel the overthinking and self-doubt.

But then it’s midday and you remember how he kissed you in the morning before he left, and your thoughts quieten. Instead, they’re replaced by that pink, fuzzy feeling that your body recognizes as him. The feeling that belongs to him and him only. And on the bus ride home you replay the way he kissed you goodbye, no one around you, and able to take his time. His hand resting on your cheek, his lips parting your mouth, the small sigh of relief that never fails to leave him whenever he deepens the kiss. This cloud of comfort the memories put you in inevitably land you back to square one, simply for the fact that they remind you of the one thing that presses on to your heart the most: you love him. 

~

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re so exhausted from the marathon taking place inside your head that the moment you make it home, aided by the quiet and solitude that falls into your apartment – courtesy of date night for Lucy and Jimin – your body starts to ache from exhaustion. 

You change into an old t-shirt and shorts, put your hair up in a bun and decide you will be treating yourself to take out. You get cozy, blanket tucked under you as Gilmore Girls – your comfort show – plays on the TV. Scrolling lazily through the food delivery apps, you ponder on what to eat. You want something that screams sad girl stays home because non-reciprocated love is too heavy of a burden to bear. Pizza, pasta, a burger. Maybe some ramen! Or a burrito, that never fails. Or perhaps just dessert. Perhaps that’s what you need. A shock to the body in the form of sugar. But amidst your indecision your lids fall heavy and you’re out cold before the clock can mark eight p.m. 

And you sleep. You sleep through the night, a deep, dreamless slumber that makes you pay for all the sleepless nights you put your body through. You barely move an inch throughout the night, Gilmore Girls serving as a soft lullaby in the background until Netflix gathers that you are not, as a matter of fact, still watching. You could probably sleep through the morning, and if you really tried, you could probably sleep through the afternoon if you cozied yourself up just right, but the universe has other plans. More like, Lucy and Jimin have other plans. In their defense, you are running late for book club. 

Their hushed little giggles as they enter the house is the first thing you hear in the depths of your subconscious as the noise attempts to stir you awake. But it’s to no avail. Your mind ignores it eventually after it goes on for a minute too long. The second attempt is their hushed chit chat that takes one too many pauses as it gets lost in the giggles and pecks they share in between. 

“Shhh. You’re gonna wake __ up!” It’s Jimin, your subconscious recognizes that much. 

“Hmm,” more giggles. “She should be in the shower right about now. She has book club, remember?”

“Shit, that’s true! Hey, we can fuck in the kitchen again?” 

“Jimin, oh my god. Shhh!”

You frown, but your mind refuses to fully wake up. 

It’s the wet noise from their kisses that finally do it, at a third triumphant attempt. You jolt awake, turning to the direction of the kitchen where you see the image that matches the dirty little noises they make. Lucy opens her eyes for a split second as Jimin presses her against the counter and she all but screams when she sees your head peeking from the sofa, hair a mess and a scowl painting your features. Jimin shrieks follow a second later. 

“Shh. Shhhh!” you say. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:15!” Lucy yells, still startled. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling okay? You look… under the weather.”

“Yeah __ you look rough,” Jimin says. 

“Aren’t you two just sweet? I fell asleep on the couch,” you stumble as you make your way to your bedroom, still groggy from sleep. “Shit. I’m gonna be so late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you some coffee and a sandwich to-go,” Lucy says, peeking inside your bedroom. 

“Thank you, Lu. You’re the best.” You brush through your hair, incredulous as to how it got so messy through the night. 

“Of course,” she says, lingering in your doorframe. “But seriously __, are you doing alright? I’ve barely seen you this week.”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Long hours at work, that’s all.”

She smiles. “I’m gonna tell Jungkook not to work you too hard when I see him today.” You look at her, confusion lacing your features. “Dae’s birthday party, remember?”

“Oh, shit. That’s today. I totally forgot.” 

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look confused. And rightfully so. I mean, what would warrant a reaction like the one you just had? You love Dae. And she knows that any excuse to see Jungkook puts a giddy, little smile on your face, like a teenage girl. She calls it the puppy love stage, and is convinced you’re deep into it. You can’t blame her. A week ago you would have agreed. But today you were hoping you could avoid all thoughts of him. Come up with some excuse, tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather and that you’d take the weekend to recover. But your plans of drowning your feelings in pizza, ice cream and Gilmore Girls (not necessarily in that order) just tumbled to the ground. You do, in fact, love Dae and wouldn’t miss his birthday party for the world. 

“I’ll just be a little late,” you smile, disguising your thoughts. “So, you know, I can come back and shower, seeing as I won’t have time to do that.”

You’re not entirely sure she buys it, but she offers you a smile and heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast. That act alone makes you want to cry. 

It’s gonna be a long day. 

~

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect for a pool party. Mai had hired a very capable catering company that was in charge of feeding both the adults and the kids at Dae’s birthday party, but Taehyung had gotten a new grill and he could find no better day to break it in than today. And even though she insisted, it was to no avail. They were grilling – the finest cuts of steak, at that – and opening the nicest bottles of wine. His first born was turning five and they had a second one on the way! He takes a minute to take it all in, sighing in pure, blissful satisfaction. There was only one person whose grilling skills could come close to his, and he knows that much because he taught him. 

“What a good day, isn’t it, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook nods, taking a sip of his red wine as his eyes scan the scene before him. Kids running around everywhere, scattered all over Mai and Taehyung’s garden. A huge bouncy castle with a water slide happened to be the main entertainment of the day, making him question how he was going to top it up with his Iron Man act. His friends all gathered to celebrate Dae, whom he loved and couldn’t believe was turning five. He also couldn’t believe he was still a bachelor when he was born, not envious of his friend’s new lifestyle, and now… well, look at him now! His eyes scan the place for Soori, who’s in Kenny’s lap as her cousins play around her. She smiles and claps, eyes wide as she kicks and screams in joy and he can’t believe she’ll be able to keep up with them soon. 

“Can you believe we’re dads?”

“In awe of it every day, actually. Can you believe we’re actually good at it?” Taehyung looks at Jungkook, who’s deep in thought. 

“No. Takes me by surprise every day,” he says, and Taehyung likes the way Jungkook gives himself credit, despite it all. 

“Can you believe Jimin is well on his way to settle down?” Taehyung says, gaze diverting forward. Jungkook follows his line of vision and understands exactly what he’s talking about. There they are, Jimin and Lucy. 

“About time.” And he’s only half joking, but the truth is, Jungkook hadn’t seen his friend this happy in years, and he’s got Lucy to thank for that. They all do. 

“Aw, imagine how cute their babies will look like,” Taehyung says, earning himself a frown from Jungkook.

“Keep your baby fever in your pants, please.”

“Oh, if only you knew.”

Jungkook looks at him and it takes him all but a second to know what he’s talking about. 

“Really?” Taehyung just shrugs, but he smiles bright and big, and his happiness is contagious. “Bro, seriously. You have to learn to shut your mouth. Mai is gonna kill you! Again!” and of course, Jungkook is alluding to the very first secret Taehyung couldn’t keep from his best friend. That first secret is turning five today. 

“Don’t tell her I told you, bro.” He sounds like a child, and Jungkook can’t believe he’s officially a dad of two. 

“Oh, I so will.”

“Fucking traitor.” He says. 

“Hey, congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.” 

Taehyung brings him in for a hug and it ends as quickly as it begins. “Shh, sh. She’s looking this way, act cool.”

“A fucking child.” 

“You’re the child! I’m older than you by almost two-”

Jimin walks behind them, taking them by surprise when he throws his arms around their shoulders. “Children, please. Settle down.” 

Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s goofy nature. She loves that about him. Matter of fact, she’d just told him, for the very first time, that she loved everything about him. That she loved him. This came after Jimin had blurted it out, in the middle of a very mild argument over the best Shrek movie. She loved him so much she’d decided to overlook the fact he said it was the fourth. Everyone knows it’s the second. 

“Funny. We were just talking about you.” Taehyung says. 

“Nothing but compliments and praises, I’d imagine!” He says. His friends both shrug at the same time, earning themselves a scowl from him. 

Jungkook turns to Lucy, smiling at her before asking, “Hey, have you heard from __? She told me she’d be here.”

“Oh, she overslept this morning, didn’t even have time to shower. So she just went home to freshen up before the party.” Lucy replies, finding it a bit odd that he isn’t aware of your whereabouts. 

“Ah,” he ponders on this for a minute. “I see.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Her smile is kind, almost like she knows. And oh, she knows. Only she can’t put her finger on it entirely. She knows something’s mildly off, but everything seemed fine at surface level. Ultimately, she didn’t want to pry – knew that often her overthinking led her to worry for no reason – but also, her gut was almost never wrong. 

Jimin’s voice brings her back from her mental gymnastics. 

“Babe, let’s go get our bathing suits on! I’m so going on that bouncy castle.” 

“Please don’t do anything stupid. And don’t break the bouncy castle, the deposit on it alone was more than your Saint Laurent boots.” Taehyung tells him, nonchalantly, back at work on the grill. 

“Bro, it’s like, 30 degrees outside. Take those off.” Jungkook adds. 

“Do not address me, flip flop man.” 

Taehyung’s head snaps. “Hey, what’s wrong with flip flops?”

Jimin scans him from head to toe, stopping at his feet. “Everything.” And like that, he’s gone. 

Taehyung and Jungkook return to grilling duties, diligently at work and in total silence for a couple of minutes, so as to recover from Jimin’s brutal abuse towards their choice of shoewear. 

It’s Taehyung that breaks the silence first. 

“So… you and __, seems like it’s getting pretty serious, huh? Plus, you’re happy. I can tell. We all can, to be fair.”

He laughs, and when he does, it has a bite to it Taehyung wasn’t expecting. “So, I get laid and it shows?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean it. Not the words he uttered, or the edge that laces his voice. Not even the breath he took right before he spewed their venom. He regrets it the moment they leave him. 

Taehyung winces. “What the hell was that, man?”

“What exactly?”

“I’d like to believe you’ve passed the point of just fucking ___.” Taehyung can’t even call you the nanny anymore, his words faltering for a second before saying your name. 

Jungkook chuckles, and again, he doesn’t mean it. His friend can tell, which concerns him more. He wouldn’t press if he didn’t know he was lying through his teeth, lacing it with fire just to reinforce a point he didn’t believe himself. 

“So, when she stays the night, what exactly do you think we do?”

Taehyung shakes his head and it’s him who’s chuckling this time. “You’re such a pussy.”

Jungkook’s head snaps fast, an immediate frown taking over his features. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it fucking means. You’re a pussy. Love looks you right in the eyes and you fall into the most cliché tale of fearing it so much it makes you, quite frankly, an asshole.” Jungkook winces at the word love, though Taehyung doesn’t notice – heavily invested in shaking some sense into him. 

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend what it feels like,” he continues, voice taking on a softer tone. “To lose something so abruptly that it makes you feel like everything that follows will hold the same fate. You didn’t have a choice – when you gathered all that strength and courage for Soori, you didn’t have a choice. You gave her love when life was throwing the opposite your way, that was brave. Do the same for yourself. That same courage, choose it.” He throws a punch at his chest, right where his heart is – it’s not forceful but it makes the youngest tumble backwards slightly.

Jungkook stares at his friend, his heart taking on a wave of feelings that pass him by too quickly for him to grasp, let alone process. It’s anger first, sadness following, and when it crashes, they land in fear. Square one, too weak to say much, he just stares at Taehyung – his expression dumbfounded but above all, pained. 

For a second, as Taehyung stares into his eyes, he sees a wide-eyed twenty-year-old Jungkook. Puffy cheeks and cherry hair, a heartthrob to everyone’s knowledge but his own, making him all that more charming. Jungkook tries to find words – anything to form a shield, to dismiss his friend’s words and take the easy route out of this conversation, this feeling, you. But in an instant, he’s reminded of how hard “easy” can be. How much pain comes with the strain of fighting and how the other side of that pain can be almost sweet – vulnerability. 

The words that follow make Taehyung feel nostalgic. 

“I talked to my dad – well, more like- he talked to me.” Taehyung nods, already knowing where this is going. “He knows. About __.”

“Okay… and what seems to be the problem?”

“In his eyes, everything. It almost felt like he was putting some sort of blame on me, for everything that happened with Ira. How it affected our family,” Jungkook pauses, the word family leaving his lips in a tremble. “They think she’s going to cause the same societal hysteria – if not worse. The CEO dating the nanny.” He huffs, shaking his head in disbelief and even though he laughs, it lacks humor. 

Taehyung’s one for big words but quite frankly, what he says next is the most accurate answer he can find, looking at his friend in the eyes as he says, “So?”

Jungkook looks at him, hesitating for a moment. “What do you mean so?”

“I don’t believe for a second that you just took his opinion and went with it. I don’t believe for a second you just agreed with him. Not even to get him to stop talking. I know you better than that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Exactly. So, what seems so be the problem, because your parents trying to discipline the twenty-eight-year-old? I’m not buying it.” Jungkook holds his gaze for a second before it drops to the floor, shoulders dropping in defeat as a sigh follows. “Life gets hard and the way things come to be, the circumstances we face, yeah – those are hard. But never loving. Loving is easy. That’s why it’s worth it.” 

Jungkook’s about to tell him that a week ago, you told him you loved him, and that he didn’t quite know if you meant it. He’s about to tell him that he didn’t say it back – that fear got the best of him. That all the possibilities of everything that could go wrong presented themselves to him like a movie. Frame by frame, so vividly that it physically pained him, making his body grow rigid and cold. He’s about to tell him that the biggest fear of it all was the possibility of you leaving, just like Ira did. But it’s right in that moment that he hears Soori’s shriek. It startles him at first, he thinks something must’ve happened to her, that she’s hurt, or perhaps just fuzzy and needs him. He drops the tongs he’s holding and is ready to run over to her. And then he sees you, fully stopping in his tracks when he realizes she’s perfectly fine – she was just excited to see you. 

Kenny hands her over and you take her into your arms, rocking her from side to side as you hug her to you. You feather kisses all over her face but she barely lets you, too excited and jumpy in your hold. She points at the red balloons that adorn the garden and you go wide eyed in excitement. Dae runs over to you and you kneel down, Soori still in your arms, and bring him in for a hug. He tells you things that Jungkook can’t make out from a distance but he, too, is going wide eyed in excitement. You motion to a box that sits by the sofa, neatly gift wrapped in Iron Man print. He claps and jumps and takes you by the hand, walking you to the table that holds all his birthday gifts. It’s only after you’ve helped him place your gift at the very top – as per his request – that your gaze finally meets Jungkook’s. 

You look beautiful, and when you smile at him he can feel his heart physically stop for a beat too long. Your long hair dances in the wind, and some gets tangled in Soori’s fingers. Even she looks at you in awe. You’re wearing a sage green summer dress that hugs your body in all the right places and then just flares out, accentuating that contrast you naturally hold. Very sweet but so very woman. 

He could stare at you for hours. 

And for his despair, for the most time, he does. 

~

You do a great job at seamlessly avoiding Jungkook. 

Now, it’s not that you want to avoid him. It’s more so that you don’t know how to face him. You’re afraid that anything he says or does could trigger a response inside of you that you won’t be able to control. Perhaps you’ll cry, or snap at him. Perhaps you’ll go completely mute. At this point, you don’t know. You tell yourself this is the price you pay for leaving a feeling untreated. But what could you do if the treatment to your feelings is standing at 5 foot 10 in total oblivion?

That much you know. Jungkook is oblivious as to how you really feel. And you can’t fully blame him for this because a. You’re the one that said he didn’t have to say anything in return and, b. Oblivion makes him look so small in your eyes. I mean, you’re out here sitting with your female rage, plotting his revenge, laughing a little too hard when he steps on a lego – in full Iron Man costume, may you add – and he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t be stealing glances your way. Or letting his hand linger a little too close to yours when you stand next to him as Dae and his friends tell you what they’re reading in school. Or when you pass Soori to him, your arms getting tangled together. Or when you both reach for the same cupcake, the same glass of wine, the same deviled egg! He lingers like you often do when you’re in public and have to be kept a secret. When touch and proximity are scarce and you have to milk every touch, every word, every glance. 

In Jungkook’s eyes, your distance is simply discretion, because for Jungkook, your words were a heat of the moment thing. A testimony of how good you two had made each other feel. I mean, despite the way your words affected him and welcomed a new set of fears he wasn’t quite planning on having with you, he let you get away with it. He felt, in a way, that he was doing you a favor. I mean, you did sound embarrassed and almost avoidant when you said it. So why press on it? Why put the two of you through the stress of having to navigate your feelings? All of this made total sense to him when he woke up Sunday morning and decided to not give his mental chaos another thought. Why would he, when he could just enjoy you instead? 

Despite said female rage, the day turns out to be magical. Dae’s charmed by all the love he receives and even takes a power nap halfway through it all because he’s so exhausted from fun and play. But once he’s up, he’s unstoppable again. Running, swimming, singing and dancing, his fifth birthday party is a success. And now, with sun kissed noses and sugar rushes, his friends begin to say goodbye one by one. This is your queue, you think, and you walk over to Mai to thank her for having you. 

“What? No! Don’t leave now. The party’s just getting started. For us, at least,” she winks at you, motioning to the glass of wine she holds. It’s apple juice, only you don’t know this. 

“Uh,” you can’t come up with any excuses. 

“Plus! Don’t you wanna stay to see Dae opening his presents? It’s my favorite part of the day.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-” you know that for Soori’s birthday at least, that moment happened after all the guests had left, and it was just their close group of friends. You feel out of place.

“Nonsense. He wants you here. We all do. I do,” she grabs your hand in hers and you give her a little nod before she’s dragging you back to the party. 

You enjoy yourself more than you’d expected. In between conversations, left over finger food and really good wine, the evening passed you by. You enjoyed getting to know everyone better and found particular joy in seeing them in this dynamic they seemed to be very familiar with. Of course, this was all accredited to the years they’d spent together. You couldn’t help but find it quite amazing; the fact that the majority of them had known each other since high school, all through college and adulthood. Parenthood, too, for some of them. Every act of service, word spoken and inside joke was laced with something that words couldn’t quite describe, but if you were to try, you’d label it as family. Simple as that. They were family. Seeing how quickly Lucy was weaving her way into their friendship group made you feel so happy for her. And it was in that instant that something told you that she’d stay forever. Not a doubt of it. She belonged – here, with Jimin, surrounded by love and family. She just belonged. 

Dae opened his presents and each reaction was better than the last. He was in a total high and the only thing that made winding him down for bed easier was Mai telling him that the faster he went to bed, the quicker he’d wake up to a room full of brand new presents he could play with all day long, if he so pleased. That and the fact that his cousins were staying the night and by the time Taehyung was done scattering his room with sleeping bags for the kids, the place looked like a campsite. 

And so the night was drawing to an end as you all sat by the lounge area in Mai and Taehyung’s backyard. Music playing softly from the speakers, the half eaten Iron Man cake on the table and a string of memories recalled by each of them as they reminisced. 

“Time flies,” Namjoon says. 

“I can’t believe you were the first one to have a kid.” Yoongi tells him. 

Hobi wraps his arm around Kenny, bringing her closer before he says, “how could you not? He’s always been very daddy.” They all laugh at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Filthy minded, the lot of you.”

“I thought it’d be Jin,” Yoongi defends. 

“Nah. I always knew it was gonna be Namjoon. You left us too soon, bro.” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around him and pouting. 

“Excuse me?” Iseul gasps, scowling at him from the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, at the other side of him. 

Jungkook smiles at her cheekily, pout growing even more. “I love you. You know that. Matter of fact, you left us too son, bro.” He says this to Iseul. 

“Exactly. I was fun,” she says, crossing her arms as she falls back into the couch. 

“You still are! We all still are!” Seulgi says, raising her glass. They all join, and you laugh as you hear them add commentary like, “yeah, but at what cost?”, “I have chronic back pain.” and, “I fell asleep five minutes into a movie last night.” 

“God, I haven’t even been inside a club in years. What’s good nowadays? __? Lucy?” Jin asks. 

You both look at each other, not very familiar with the clubbing scene anymore. 

“Candied Star,” says Jimin, voice going low. 

“Shame on you, bro.” Yoongi tells him. 

“What the fuck is Candied Star?” Asks Hobi. 

“It’s a club!”

“It sounds like the name of a very blonde, very busty 90s pornstar.” Says Mai and they all laugh. 

“I actually used to love that place. It’s pink and excessive. And the DJ’s solid.” You say. 

Jimin claps once, body jolting, having a full eureka moment. “We’re totally going tonight. Saturday’s are the best nights!” 

“I’m so in. Taehyung’s fancy wine made me drunk, it’d be a waste to just go home.” Lucy adds. 

“You’re welcome, kid.” Taehyung raises his glass in her direction. 

“You coming, __?” Jimin asks you. 

You can’t fight it when your eyes land on Jungkook. His are on you already and again, you both linger in held glances for a second too long. You know he can’t go as he has Soori tonight. And you know your female rage wants to keep at a distance from him, so this is the perfect escape plan. But your heart takes one look at him and you want no more than to go back home with him. Have him all to yourself, crawl under a blanket with him and just hug him to you in a way that says, “I’ve been wanting to do this all week.”

“I’m in!”

And that’s the thing about untreated feelings: they rebel against you, even if the heart is waving white flags. 

~

See, you might not be one for crowded spaces and shitty music. You might be an Elton John fanatic, technology denier, gardening grandma attire wearer old soul. This might all be true, yes. But right next to that truth coexists a side of you that simply can’t help but love the fact that you’re twenty three. You’re twenty three and that means that on a saturday night, your responsibilities are at the bottom of the pyramid. You’re twenty three and there’s something about tonight that exacerbates the fact that you’re young and can allow yourself to be a little stupid. 

Candied Star is exactly what you described it as: pink and excessive. You hadn’t been here in months and perhaps that’s what makes it all the more alluring. You swiftly make it inside, courtesy of Jimin, who has a certain power over every bouncer and PR in the city. You could get used to the VIP treatment, if you were to confess. The line was going down a mile and you could see it from the taxi as you made your way to the club. The music is good from the get go and nothing about the atmosphere feels menacing or intimidating. Candied Star is for the cool kids. And what you mean by that is, Candied Star is for the girls, the gays and the allies. Nothing about this place caters to the male gaze and in a way, it’s so freeing. 

The moment you step foot inside you begin to let loose, and it’s not too long after that you’re being found by a troop of beautifying fairy godmothers that circle around the three of you, bedazzling your faces until the strobes inside the club hit you and you’re drenched in glitter and sparkling. The music aids the cinematic feeling of the night and when Jimin hands you a drink, it’s pink and shiny and you don’t know why but it just makes sense that it is. “It’s strawberry gin,” he says and you all bring your glasses together and cheer for a cause you’re not aware of but that demands celebration as you scream and sing and dance. 

By your third sparkly, strawberry gin, you’re the life of the party. 

No, really. You are. 

“I didn’t know __ had that in her!” Jimin says to Lucy, who admires you in awe. 

“Oh, but she does,” she yells over the loud music. 

The same people that put beads and glitter on your face are the ones that encourage you to get on top of one of the tables and give it your all. You’re not much of a dancer but in that moment, something in you releases in screaming color. Maybe it’s the song that plays that you vow to never forget. Maybe it’s the smiling faces that surround you and cheer you on. Perhaps it’s finding Jimin and Lucy in the crowd, smiling at you. You beckon them over and it takes them a while to get the hint but when they do, the crowd is parting for them and they’re being cheered on. You help them get on the stage – yes, a table, but it’s your stage – and you dance. You dance and sing and yell words to songs you didn’t even know you knew, or that maybe you thought you’d forgotten. 

But how could you forget? How could you forget how young you once were? How could you forget how young you are now?

~

Jungkook rocks Soori from side to side, bottle in hand as she begins to drift off in between suckles. The way she fights sleep to keep eating makes him giggle and when he does, her eyes snap open once again, seemingly more alert than the last time. 

“Shh, shh… sorry, baby. Sleep,” he whispers and his voice soothes her as he feels her little body relax in his arms. 

Night feeds are a rare occurrence nowadays but today was an exception. She’d had a fun day outside of her routine and the moment Jungkook had parked the car on his driveway, she’d woken up, more alert than ever. So here they were, in the middle of her nursery as Jungkook added a little bounce to his step the closer she got to finishing her bottle; the rhythm he’d mastered and could confirm worked like a magic trick to put her out cold and fast. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this moment. She was growing way too fast before his eyes and these moments reminded him of when she was a little baby. When she depended on him way more than she does now. When she couldn’t crawl, let alone be so close to walking as she was now. Her eyes open yet again and he looks at her, smiling. She smiles back and he starts humming a soft melody in hopes of putting her to sleep. It has no rhyme or direction and he tries to think of something. He sings to her, and it’s a song he’s heard you sing to her, too. 

Jesus freaks out in the street

Handing tickets out for God

Turning back, she just laughs

The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man, he makes his stand

In the auditorium

Looking on, she sings the songs

The words she knows, the tune she hums

She finishes her bottle, eyes blinking once, twice, before her long eyelashes meet her cheeks. She nuzzles her face closer to Jungkook’s chest and his heart breaks and mends all in the span of a second. He sings softer this time.

But, oh, how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you, and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Soori falls into deep sleep and Jungkook holds her. He lets himself have her in his arms for a little longer. He thinks of all the parenting books he’s read in the past year or so, making himself chuckle as they would absolutely not approve of this. But he doesn’t care. He knows he’s doing the right thing. And perhaps he didn’t know this a couple of months back – a couple of months back he felt like he couldn’t get anything right – but now, looking down at her, he feels confident. He knows he’s doing the right thing because Soori? Soori is perfect. Soori is the best thing he’s ever been good at. Soori is his biggest and most exciting project. And as she sleeps soundly in his arms, it hits him. He’s doing a good job. 

He sings the same song to her two, three… four times. On and on. And at some point, the words start catching up to him in memories of you. He doesn’t want to sulk. He knows you should, as a matter of fact, be out there, having fun with your friends and dancing the night away at some club with a questionable name. But he can’t help but miss you. He thinks of you, because lately, every corner of his house reminds him of you. And yes, it aids his sulking but it’s also nice to just picture you everywhere. He thinks of you rocking on Soori’s chair, watching them, you’d probably be singing along with him. Or perhaps you’d be in his room, waiting for him on his bed, a book in hand, because you always carry one in your bag. 

He laughs as he remembers a conversation you’d had with Lucy right before you left for the club. 

“Wait, I’m not very dressed for the club…,” you say. 

Lucy looks at you, huffing. “You’re never dressed for the club.”

“No, Lu, seriously. I have a copy of Sense and Sensibility in my bag right now.”

“I guess Jane Austen is coming to Candied Star, then!”

And it was so you. Jungkook had never read Jane Austen, but the title alone was so very you. 

Finally, he’s putting Soori in her crib, making sure she has all her friends around in case she wakes up through the night and double checking the baby monitor before he’s gently closing the door of her nursery after he takes one last glance at her. He can’t see much, just one of her cheeks pressed against the mattress from between the wooden bars of her crib. He laughs softly, nose scrunching in endearment. 

He walks inside his room, retrieving his phone from his back pocket and throwing it on his bed. He’s about to turn around but he deflects, reaching back for his phone. He’s got a couple of notifications adorning his home screen – Mai had sent pictures from today to their group chat, his mom had texted him saying they needed to talk and he had a couple of work emails he did not want to get into right now – but none from you. Jungkook sighs, throwing his phone on his bed once again and making his way to the bathroom. 

He showers, taking his time to take the day off. Standing in front of the massage jets for a long time and in days like these, time felt like a luxury. He washes his hair, his body, lets the water run down on him. He takes his time and once he’s done, he walks over to his bed, tapping on his phone in quiet hopes that he’ll see your name on his screen. Nothing. He grabs the device to put it to charge but he changes his mind halfway through, bringing it with him to the bathroom. 

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, does his skincare. A notification pops up. It’s from The New York Times. He rolls his eyes, staring at the screen until it goes blank. He tells himself not to act so childish. He brushes his hair, applies three different products he doesn’t quite know the purpose of. He taps on his phone again, even though he knows he’s not going to find anything new. And he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t and he shouldn’t. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to pry you away from the fact that you’re twenty three years old, and that you should be doing exactly what a twenty three year old should be doing on a saturday night. God knows nobody stopped him, so he doesn’t want to stop you. But he’d be lying if he said that when Jimin invited you to the club, his blood went a little warm. Not fully hot, no. But a little warm. He wanted the night to wrap up so he could approach you and ask to give you a ride. No one would suspect, I mean, he was just doing you a favor, as your boss. But the moment he got you alone in his car he planned to kiss you until you had no choice but to follow him home. And he’d hold you and stare at you and kiss you until it paid for how little he got to do it this past week. He missed you. And he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked today. At how beautiful you probably look right now, dancing and smiling. Probably a bit tipsy by now because he knows how much of a lightweight you were.

He gets in bed, attempting to get comfortable under the covers. He turns the TV on, plays the cooking channel, dims the lights, then turns them off. He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb but then chooses against it, just in case. Just in case you called him, giddy and with slow, slightly slurred sentences like you had that one time. And if that were to be the case, he’d ask you to come over. He’d feed you carbs, get you in the shower, in his bed. And then tomorrow he’d wake up next to you and- he stops himself. Because if he lets his mind go any further, he’s gonna be the one calling you. And asking you to come over – begging for it if need be. 

But even in his rationality, he hopes. Fighting sleep, just in case. 

You never call. 

~

“Pretty,” you say. Because it is. The city, the lights, even as they pass you by faster than you’d like. Your head is out the window, merciless wind hitting your face as the car picked up speed, making your hair dance behind you and your eyes water, smudging the glitter that adorned your cheeks. 

“It certainly is, but hey, __, maybe get back in here?” Lucy tries to reason with you, but it’s to no avail because your arm joins your head and the way the air feels like a heavy mass attempting to go through you is almost hypnotizing. 

Jimin peeks from his seat next to the other window. He giggles when he sees you mid trance. “Is her seatbelt on?”

“Yeah,” Lucy says as she tries to pull you back in. 

“Leave her be, babe. She’s having a cinematic moment.” 

“I’m scared she’s gonna want to jump out or something.”

Jimin laughs at this. “She won’t. Come here.” 

And so Lucy does, stealing glances your way from time to time to make sure you’re doing okay and won’t do anything crazy like fly out the window. 

That’s not what you want, though. You’re simply admiring the view. It feels so good. It feels so good to forget about what pains you for a night. It feels so good to not think about him, even though this thought alone requires you to think about him. You chuckle. Who cares? You’re not thinking about him, even if you are. Your drunken state tells your brain that you’re free of the Jungkook chaos you’ve been in for what feels like way too long. And when your heart tries to meddle, telling you not to be such a fool and reminding you that a week ago you poured your heart out to him, told him the biggest, most important words – the ones you searched for the most in your love stories – right around this time. Who cares? Who cares, you keep reminding your heart, demanding it to let it go, even if just for tonight. 

“We can cry tomorrow,” your voice is but a whisper that gets muffled by the wind, one that only you can hear. “Who cares tonight? Who cares, who cares, who cares…”

You can hear the beginning chords of a melody that you think you recognize coming from inside the car, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It comes to you slowly though, and when you almost have it, you look behind you and see Jimin and Lucy singing along to the beat of the song. And then it hits you. Your body is inside of the car and you lean forward, hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” you say to him, “you’re speaking to my soul! And I don’t know if I like it. Turn it up.” He smiles, chuckling at your words before his hand reaches for the console, the song resounding all through the car. 

You lean back on the seat, looking at Lucy before linking your arm with hers. The three of you sing, loud and drunk and happy. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

~

Your head pounds and at first, you don’t understand why. But it pounds so hard it snaps you back into consciousness. Once you are relatively awake you understand why. Not only are you deadly hungover but you’re also in the middle of what you can only describe as chaos. Your window is wide open and there must be a traffic jam going on outside because cars are honking left and right. Elton’s halfway through Tiny Dancer because clearly the first minute of that didn’t do its job at waking you up, and there’s a knock at your door. 

“Come in,” you say, as you switch off your alarm and try to drown out the outside noises by putting a pillow over your head. 

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy enters your room, and when you glance at her from an inch left uncovered by your pillow, you see she’s holding a tray. Iced americano, avocado toast and a sunny side up egg that smells delectable are just a couple of things that make her the best friend in the whole world this morning. The second one is the fact that she’s closing your window and suddenly, it’s peace, quiet and a feast in your room. 

“I’ve done nothing to deserve you.”

“You’ve done plenty.” She smiles and it’s sweet, just like every inch of her. 

“Good morning, dancing queen.” Jimin waltz inside your room, shirtless and with Lucy’s cow print fuzzy headband on his head. 

“I shouldn’t have to see this first thing in the morning, but it’s the price I pay for dancing on top of tables like God did not intend.” 

“Oh, no. I think God was in that room last night.”

“Babe,” Lucy whines. “Leave her alone!”

“Why? It was fun! You’re fun, __. You should come out with us more often, they gave us a bunch of free drinks just because we knew you!” 

You throw your pillow at him and he shrieks and runs away. Both you and Lucy laugh at his theatrics. 

“1 to 10 how much did I embarrass myself last night?” You ask as she hands you your pillow back and you return it to its rightful place over your head. 

“Like, minus 0. You genuinely were the life of the party. All you did was dance and drag everyone along!” 

“I’ll believe you. Thank you for breakfast, Lu.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Hey, Jimin and I are going to his parent’s beach house for the week. We leave today.” She almost looks apologetic when she says it.

“That sounds so nice, Lu.”

“Yeah,” she says, and her voice takes on the tone she uses when something floats above her head in worry. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But,” she pauses for a second, looking into your eyes. “Are you?”

“Me?” You ask, incredulous and you can see it in her face – how little she buys your act. “I’m fine, Lu. Just tired. It’s been a long week and honestly I probably just need some rest. I’ll try and take loads of naps today.”

She just stares at you for a couple of seconds, deciding your fate. Will she let it slide? Will she press? Will she give you the words of comfort you’re so very sure could make you cry right now and dismantle your lies? 

“You should try and get as much rest as you can.” And the only reason she says that is because they’re running late. 

“And you have fun,” you hug her. “Don’t worry about me, seriously. I’ll rest loads and probably clean around, do some laundry, maybe get some writing done. Ooh, I could meal prep for the week!”

~

You lose a sock on your way to the living room from the kitchen. It makes you stop in your tracks as you glance back and try to see where you’d left it. But it’s nowhere to be found. Oh, well. You shake the can of whipped cream you’d retrieved from the fridge, the cherry on top the most perfect Ben & Jerry’s flavor that has ever existed – chocolate fudge brownie, of course. Your mouth waters at the mere thought and you can’t resist the temptation of having whipped cream at such close proximity and so you swirl a hefty amount inside of your mouth. In perfect cinematic nature, the song that you’ve had on repeat for the past forty five minutes breaks into the chorus (yet again) and now the whipped cream can is your microphone and this living room is your stage. 

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

Your voice is hoarse, the remnants of yesterday’s fun and today’s chaos. 

But we're

You trip on an iPhone charger and it almost sends you flying. But it doesn’t, so you take the opportunity of being jolted forward to add flair to your performance. 

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends

It's casual, if it's casual now

Then baby, get me off again

If it's casual, it's casual now

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears touch your lips, warm and salty and it only makes you sing louder because at this point, you’re just letting yourself go a little insane in the privacy of your own home and the solitude that has been granted to you this sunday morning. So you eat ice cream at 11 a.m. and listen to feminine rage songs. More like, one single feminine rage song. And the more you sing it, the sadder it gets. The girls aren’t enraged. The girls are just sad. 

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner

Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Your hands come up and you spin as you sing and cry. 

Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it

I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry dude you didn't

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself

I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The song ends and a second later, it starts again. You let it. Most of the lyrics don’t even apply fully to your situation and you can begin to recognize this as your steam is blown and you tire yourself out. And yeah, the lyrics may not all apply to you but some do and it feels good to scream them out loud and to get mad. 

You send a flying kiss to Chappell Roan and thank her for her services. 

~

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Your words are directed at Mr. Darcy, who’s been getting on your nerves for the past hour or so. “But you’re so beautiful. And I know deep down you’re a good man.” And it’s then that your eyes begin to well up yet again. Pride and Prejudice always gets to you. 

Your eyes leave the TV screen for a split second so you can draw your head back and take a bite out of your pizza. It’s delicious – cheesy and delicious, and just what you need. Dancing, singing and crying must burn more calories than you think because that was a workout and now you were exhausted and famished, even though you were halfway through your pizza already. 

“I mean, there you are! With your stupidly good looking face and your bad manners,” you point at Mr. Darcy on the screen. “And all because you can’t tell the girl you love her! Elizabeth, you deserve be-”

Halfway through your speech, you get interrupted by the insistent buzzing that comes from your phone. Your eyes scan the couch on the search for it but it’s nowhere to be found. You shove blankets and pillows aside and the more it buzzes, the more frantically you search. You find it under your pizza box right before it’s about to disconnect, quickly sliding your finger across the screen so you can answer the call, not having time to second glance at the contact. 

“Hello?!” You yell into the receiver. 

You hear Jungkook chuckle from the other end of the line and you quite literally choke on your spit, making you cough wide eyed and surprised. “Woah, woah. You okay?”

You hate that he cares. And you hate his little chuckles and how quickly he can disarm you because you feel the way your voice is about to go soft on him. You make sure to clear your throat (and shake the softness off) before replying.

“Yeah, yeah. I just have a bit of a sore throat.”

“So it was a good night, I presume.”

“Yeah, actually. The best.”

Your words are fast and sharp and Jungkook feels the sting. But nonetheless, he’s still oblivious. He blames the sting on his own childish ways of missing you too much even though he’d seen you every day this week. He blames it on the part of him that went to bed last night stubbornly wishing you’d be next to him. And so he opts to be bigger and better than his feelings, collecting himself before he responds.

“I’m glad, baby.” You’re quiet on the other end of the line. “Hey, so… we were just at brunch with my parents.”

“How’d it go?”

“Same old,” and it was true. It’d been awkward at first but then simply filled with small talk and the three of them swooning over Soori, to Jungkook’s fortune. “But I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and you could come over? We could lay by the pool, I could make us some dinner later…”

Your eyes scan the room. They land on the pizza box and then on Mr. Darcy on the TV, mid-sentence in what is probably useless words because none of them are what he actually feels. 

“I have a terrible hangover, being out by the sun would probably make it worse.”

“That’s ‘kay. We could watch movies instead.”

You sigh, your heart breaking at your coldness when you say, “I’ve had a long week, I think it’d be better if I just took it easy today and got some rest. I’m sorry.”

And as oblivious as Jungkook could be in the moment, no oblivion could stand between him and the way your words break something inside his heart in more ways than just disappointment. 

“Oh,” is all he can say. 

“But you guys have fun, okay? Give Soori kisses from me and enjoy the water. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” Jungkook wonders why the pet name he’s grown so familiar to calling you feels so foreign as they pass his lips now. “Bye.”

You linger. You wait, in silence, the soft static and words left unsaid. 

“Bye.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you and I hate that you don’t love me back and I can’t do with hating that I love you and I could never do with hating you because I love you. 

When you fall asleep around thirty minutes later, it’s with heavy eyes and tears you’d been collecting ever since. You fall asleep before Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth can get their happy ending. 

~

Monday morning feels like hell. Getting out of bed feels nearly impossible and when you finally muster the strength to do so, you feel a headache coming up that threatens to linger for the whole day. You take some Tylenol, caffeinate yourself and eat whatever you can stomach. And since you hadn’t taken the time to make yourself an elaborate breakfast, you get fifteen extra minutes that you use to make yourself look better, in hopes that it helps you feel better. You take your time as you brush through your hair and get really close to the mirror as you apply your makeup, blending and dusting products on with more care than you have in years. You can feel the heat that takes on the day, despite it only being 7 a.m. and so when you stand in front of your closet you try to keep it light. You settle on a pink linen dress that’s a bit too short but still acceptable to go serve your duties as a nanny. And perhaps vanity could cure a broken heart because by the time you leave the house, your strut has a bit more of confidence to it and your mentality consists of more who cares rather than why me?

You settle on the bus seat, reaching for your book but there’s something about Sense and Sensibility you’re simply not in the mood for today. And so you put your headphones on and scroll through your playlists. You’re just a girl, so of course there’s a perfectly curated selection of songs for any occasion and so today’s choice is one titled so sad, so sexy. It’s feminine rage meets bad bitch anthems and your subconscious decides it’s this episode’s soundtrack. 

Mrs. Chae greets you at the door, like every morning, only today she smiles a little wider. 

“You look very pretty today, ___.”

You smile at her, asking her about her weekend as you make your way to the kitchen. You offer to make her some coffee as she gets Jungkook’s ready and it takes a little bit of insisting but she finally lets you treat her. As the minutes pass, though, you start feeling nervous. You hadn’t quite planned how you’d manage your feelings when you saw Jungkook this morning and every little noise has you jumpy and alert. You get Soori’s breakfast ready, cursing how quickly porridge cooks and your immaculate fruit chopping skills, because you’re done faster than you’d think and now you’re hands free and anxious again. 

“Mrs. Chae, let me help you fold laundry.”

“Fold laundry?!”

“Yes! I’m quite good at it. I worked at a little boutique all through my teenage years.”

“No.”

“Please. Just Soori’s at least.”

She looks at you intently for about five seconds, narrowing her eyes. “Her clothes are in the pink basket.”

You do a little cheer and thank her and she shakes her head at you but you can see the way she smiles. You get to folding her tiny clothes, cooing at how cute and tiny they are. You laugh at how her funny t-shirts that have kermit the Frog, Bluey and Wonder Pets prints get mixed with her nicer pieces that are full of tulle and fancy fabrics or are full on designer. But your favorites are the mini versions of Jungkook’s clothes that he always pairs with pink bows or colorful socks. It makes your heart melt. 

“Good morning,” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your trance. “Why are you folding laundry?”

“Don’t look at me, Mr. Jungkook,” Mrs. Chae defends, placing the tray that holds his iced americano on the kitchen island. 

“It relaxes me,” you say, arms reaching for Soori who falls straight into them. “Good morning, munchkin. You hungry?”

“I have to leave now. Emergency meeting at the office.”

“But your coffee,” you hate that you care, but you do. Not to mention that it already worries you that it’s all he has for breakfast. 

He doesn’t look up from his phone when he says, “At the office. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae.”

You follow him as he makes his way to the door. You can tell he’s stressed just by being in his proximity and it almost reminds you of when you first started working for him, those very first cold and distant weeks. But when he turns around and takes Soori into his arms, he softens and grows mushy again. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Be good for daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheeks. “You’ve recovered, I hope.” He says this to you. 

“Good as new.” You force a smile.

“I’m glad. I’m gonna be late again today, we’re hoping to close this deal this week and we’re in a time crunch. I’ve told Suelgi to pick Soori up in the afternoon-”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you stayed with her last week and-”

“Yeah, that’s my job. That’s what you pay me to do, remember? Also, it messes up with her routine so I’ll keep her and we’ll wait for you right here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“___-” you don’t let him finish, fearing to fall into a conversation you can’t have right now. You grab the back of his head and bring him close to you until your lips are on his. You feel him relax against your touch and he deepens the kiss, even if for a brief second before you’re pulling away. 

“Have a good day. We’ll see you tonight.”

~

On Tuesday you keep your anxiety at bay by making Soori a really elaborate breakfast. And you’re speaking the whole ordeal. Eggs, cherry tomatoes that you cut up really small, all her favorite assortment of fruits (blueberries, strawberries and pears), avocado that you mash and season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. You even cut her toast in tiny hearts that adorn the corners of her plate. When Jungkook walks inside the kitchen that morning, you’re getting started on her meal prep for lunch. Cooking for Soori wasn’t really on your job description but you liked to be as involved as you could in her feeding and so you’d silently taken on the responsibility. She liked to watch you cook, clapped along as you played music and danced around the kitchen, giving her a show. 

You don’t hear him come in and Jungkook takes the time to let himself stare at you. Amidst the stress and exhaustion, you’re pure sunshine that creeps into his home each morning and for that he’s grateful. If yesterday you threatened to make him late for work, which he really couldn’t afford this week, today you’re making him wish he could throw all the contracts out the window and live in a world that rotated around your axis. He doesn’t know if it’s the way your lips are a tone redder today, or if it’s the way you have your hair up in a bun that somehow looks both disheveled and put together, thin strands of hair framing your face as you concentrate on the way your hands carefully peel the pear. You’re pouting, the way you often do when you’re focused on something and he thinks about how quickly he can get out of this kitchen so he can kiss you. You’re also wearing red, which is a color he doesn’t often see you sport but he makes a mental note to store it under favorites. Your dress is tight around your waist and then flairs out and he knows it’s short because the weather is hot and you know how to dress for it. Jungkook begins to feel hot, too. The straps are held by a bow that rests on top of your shoulders and one of them falls down your arm and he swears to himself this all just happened in slow motion. 

“Mr. Jungkook, good morning.” Mrs. Chae places the tray on the kitchen island with a little more force than she’d originally intended. This makes you jump and it takes Jungkook about a beat too long to come back to his senses. 

“Good morning,” he clears his throat when his voice falters. 

Oh, damn you, Jeon Jungkook in dress pants and a white shirt that hugs your body a little too nicely to be true. 

“Nana,” Soori shrieks, excited to see you as you walk over to them. 

“Hi baby, I missed you.” The moment your arms outstretch towards her, she’s falling into them. You look at Jungkook. “Hey.”

“Hey- how are you?”

“I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Both Mrs. Chae and Soori stare at the two of you in confusion. 

“Nana,” this time she tries to get your attention, hitting you with her plush toy. You notice it’s shaped like a mille-feuille, courtesy of Lucy. 

“Is she- is that what she calls you?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know… it’s the first time she does it more than once in a row.”

“Cute,” he says, smiling. His face grows serious again when he sees Mrs. Chae smirking from the corner of her eye. 

“She’s cute. Want breakfast, baby?” And Jungkook is so entranced by you this morning he almost says yes. “We’ve got blueberries and strawberries and pears. Can you say pears?”

“Nana,” she smiles and is immediately forgiven. 

When you’re by the door saying goodbye, Jungkook’s about to kiss you, and there’s nothing in the world he wants more right this second. And as he leans in and mentally chants victory, his phone starts ringing. It’s Jin, and he knows it’s important. He should’ve taken his call ten minutes ago. His eyes close for a second, sighing in frustration before he picks up the phone. 

“Yeah, talk to me.”

You don’t mean to be so cruel, but alas, you smile. 

~

On Wednesday, it’s Jungkook who opens the door for you and by the looks of it, he’s on his way out, phone pressed to his ear as he steps aside to let you in. 

“Yeah, if you could please have those papers on my desk when I get there- yeah. Thank you, Kay. You’re the best.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s mentally. Inside your head so he can’t see. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard Jungkook say she’s the best you’d have two dollars, which is two dollars too many.

“Hey,” he says, eyes still on his phone as he reads what you can see is a really long email. 

“Good morning. What’s going on?”

“I have to run. Soori’s in the kitchen, she’s had a bit of a rough morning. She’s having a bottle right now.” He types as he tells you this. You want to shake him and tell him to look at you. 

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah, just- closing deals is hectic. That’s all. Everything okay with you?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Great.

“Great!” 

“I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Sure.”

He presses his phone to his ear once again and turns around, walking towards his car, the loud beep startling you a bit as he unlocks it. You yell at him, mentally. Inside your head, so he can’t see. 

~

Soori was in fact having a rough morning, and her mood lingers throughout the day. She was a really good, happy baby so on bad days like these you knew something had to be bothering her. You’d found the root of the problem in the middle of a very dramatic cry, as her head swung backwards and her mouth opened to let out a loud wail. Her first back tooth was coming in. She was in pain, rightfully so, and nothing quite pleased her but you tried to do your best. She got extra cuddles and an extra morning nap. You’d made her strawberry juice lollipops so she could chew on for relief and mostly let her play throughout the day. She wanted to be held for the most part, though, and you had to admit you weren’t about to complain. You loved when she let you hold her and hug her and squeeze her. 

You’re halfway through a very softly sung version of Hey Jude when Jungkook calls you. It’s quarter past seven and you were winding down Soori for the night.

“Hi,” you say, voice a whisper so as to not wind her up. 

“Hey. How are you guys doing?”

“Good. She’s getting sleepy, she’ll be out in the next twenty or so. Her first molar is coming in, that’s why she’s fuzzy.”

“Oh, shit. Should’ve thought of that.”

“She’s doing okay now. She just needed extra cuddles.”

“I wish I could’ve been there today. Thank you, ___.”

“My pleasure. How’s your day? It’s late… are you coming home soon?”

And Jungkook knows you’re not asking for any other reason other than the fact you care about him. About his wellbeing and peace of mind. You took care of him in more ways than you probably realized because it just came as second nature to you, to be so caring. You, on the other hand, can’t help the way your heart plays onto the little fantasy. The one in which you wait for him to come home – a home of your own. He comes home to you after a long day and you sit on the couch and order take out and you make sure he has dinner because, to be fair, you’re not sure he does when you leave at night and the worry follows you until you get home even though you know that he can’t go hungry for more than twenty minutes. But you care, so you worry. 

Ugh!

“Yeah. I just have to go through,” he pauses, taking a look around him, “two more contracts. I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“I’ll give her a good night kiss from you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” and you hang up because if you don’t, you’ll fucking blurt those three words at him again, because in your little fantasy, it’s only natural. It’s only natural that you tell him you love him before you hang up the phone. 

God, life was playing tricky, tricky games on your heart. Ones that you were out of ideas on how to defeat. 

~

Soori had knocked out not too long after that. She’d been visibly exhausted from the discomfort and pain she’d carried all day and you could only hope tomorrow was better. You make a mental note to search up some toothing relief methods on your way home. You give her two forehead kisses before laying her down on her crib, placing her little mille-feuille plushie under her arm. 

You make your way to the kitchen, turning on every light that you pass because if you were to be honest, Jungkook’s house intimidated you a little bit during the night. It was just so big and spacious, wide hallways that felt never ending. You liked how quiet it was, though. A sense of peace filling you as you put the kettle on to make yourself a cup of tea. His selection was impressive and you wondered why. You don’t think you’d ever seen him drink tea… you wonder if this was one of the remaining bits of Ira that still lingered around the house. There weren’t many, but it was impossible to fully erase her. There was a mug in the cupboards with the letter I and right next to it, one with the letter J. Her white Mercedes Benz that still sat on the driveway, too. And even though she’d cleared her clothes from the closet, you’d once seen a pretty black dress that you could only assume had once belonged to her. 

You opt for a fancy looking ginger and lemon tea, taking your time to let the leafs brew in the hot water. Thinking of him, of her, of Soori. Of how much you’d weaved your way inside his home, his family, without the details of what landed you here in the first place. I mean, you know some of it, but not the whole story. And then again, how much of a story was there? Her departure had seemed final and abrupt and in your anger, you doubted her words and explanations truly mattered. 

You move through the kitchen, down the dining hall and into the living room at a slow pace, taking it all in. You try to remember if you’ve ever been here alone, when it’s so empty and quiet but you can’t place any memory of the sort. You walk over to the big, tall bookshelf that stood against the wall. It was mostly for decoration, you’d assumed – a bunch of color coordinated books that matched the aesthetic of the living space perfectly. You recognize some titles and some others seem old. Pages on art, architecture, travel and fashion. Your eyes land on one that doesn’t seem to have a name, the spine empty in smooth leather. You reach for it, its weight sitting heavy on your hands. It was big, too and it looked like it held something important. Something that you couldn’t find in a bookshop or library. You know you probably shouldn’t, but your curiosity gets the best of you. You sit on the sofa, tea cup long forgotten on the table, lifting the heavy cover to reveal a white page that held a handwritten note. 

To our Soori Blue,

Our darling girl, you are so very loved, and this is your story so far. This is where you come from and this is how you were loved from the very beginning, even before you were here. When you were but a little star waiting in the sky for your mommy and daddy to multiply the love they have for each other to make you. You’re born from love, Soori, and your parents are proof of that, because they love each other so very much. Waiting for you was hard because we couldn’t wait to hold you and getting to be your Godparents is one of our biggest blessings. You are so loved, you are so special and you will always have us. 

Love,

Auntie Mai and Uncle Taehyung

 You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook and Ira taking most of the frame. They’re pulling faces as they pose for the camera and behind them is the city skyline and a sunset that paints the sky pink and orange. She blows a kiss and Jungkook throws a peace sign as he winks. Under the picture, a caption in neat black font that reads, “this is from the day your mommy and daddy first met. Everyone says it was instant: how they fell in love. I bet they would’ve not believed it if they knew that only a couple of years later, you’d be here!” 

The next picture is a magazine cover, Ira gracing the page, her long, blonde hair dancing in the wind, eyes not fully meeting the camera as she smiles. She looks carefree and young, a beautiful blue dress adorning her body, making her blue eyes shine even from a distance. “This is your mommy. Isn’t she so beautiful? She’s smart, funny, kind and loved by many people around the world. But no one loves her the way we do!”

You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook standing in front of The West End, bright smile on his face. “This is your daddy. He’s really good at his job! He’s funny, cool and generous. He can’t stay still and he’s good at everything he does, first try! We love him a lot.”

Their relationship pans over the years as you leaf through the pages. Ira and Jungkook at the beach, in very many destinations around the world, on Christmas and holidays, with their families and friends, in the comfort of their home and in events and galas. The day they made their relationship official, accompanied by, “it was out of a fairytale!” and birthday celebrations that said, “your daddy spoils your mommy so very much, we’re kinda scared he’ll do the same with you!” as Ira poses in rooms filled with roses and balloons and boxes full of presents. 

You pay particular attention at a picture of Jungkook and Ira, a selfie that seems to have been taken on film. They’re in the kitchen, bright smiles and red, puffy eyes, like they’d been crying. “On this morning, your mommy and daddy found out about you! They were a little scared, but so very happy. You filled them with light, Soori. Just look at those smiles! They couldn’t wait to hold you – it was going to be nine long months!”

Then it’s all of them, out in the garden, Ira in the middle as they point to her stomach. “And on this day we found out about you! We were so happy!! We’d never seen your mommy and daddy so excited, you had a closet full of clothes already and they didn’t even know if you were a girl or a boy yet!”

Ira in an ultrasound, “your mommy and daddy were so happy to hear your heartbeat for the first time.”

Jungkook kissing her stomach, “deep down, your daddy always knew you were a girl. Your mommy was convinced you were a boy, though!”

Jungkook and Ira standing in the garden, pink confetti flying over them. “You’re a girl, Soori Blue!!!!”

The pictures progress with the passing of time, each one with a caption full of hope and love. A picture of Soori as a newborn representing her birth, a carbon copy of Jungkook that makes your heart seize inside your chest. Then pictures of her with her uncles and aunties, their families, Jungkook and Ira, who kiss her each on one cheek in the majority of them. You miss the way Ira smile changes, the way her gaze looks empty after a while. All you see is love, what Soori is truly made of. 

You blame your next thought on how overly emotional this past week has been, how tumultuously you’ve experienced every feeling. 

“There’s all types of love, but never the same love twice.”

You wonder if that had been it for Jungkook. If he would ever be able to experience the love he had for Ira again. You wonder if perhaps he’d ran out of love to give and if that was the case, you couldn’t blame him. You reach the final page; a picture of the three of them, Jungkook holds Soori in his arms and Ira wraps hers around them. She’s looking at him, a smile on her face as they stand in front of the sea. The water is blue and the day looks bright and they’re perfect. They’re love. The real kind, your brain argues. The kind that takes years to nurture, the kind that faces adversities and triumphs. The one that reproduces itself into the most perfect combination of every good thing about both ends. Soori is only a couple of months old but she smiles into the camera and for the first time, you see both Ira and Jungkook in her. 

~

You’d placed the photobook right where you’d found it and for the past thirty minutes, you’d been staring at the glass doors that led to the garden, in complete silence, though your thoughts are loud. You don’t hear Jungkook come in and it’s only when he sits on the couch next to you that you fully notice his presence. 

“What a fucking day,” he sighs, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. 

You look at him for a long time, and he doesn’t acknowledge your silence. 

“You’re home now,” you say, even though it’s not the home you’d want it to be. 

“Yeah,” he looks at you. “How’s Soo?”

“Good. Sleeping.”

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.”

“I’m fucking starving,” he says, sinking further into the couch, his head turning to face you. “You hungry? Want some ramen?”

You simply nod and that has him getting up from the couch, hand reaching for yours. You walk into the kitchen together, your fingers entwined in his and the simple act sends electric currents down your body. It’s funny how unaware you can be about touch until it’s the right person’s skin against your very own, because what you feel right now, you hadn’t felt in days. 

You miss his touch instantly as he moves on to making dinner. 

“How was your day,” you ask, because you’re tired of the silence, and you’re tired of putting in an effort at keeping your heart quiet. 

“Long. And exhausting. Never ending, even.” And Jungkook doesn’t mean to whine and complain but then again, it’s not like he was lying. His day had been hell and just when he thought it was over, another problem presented itself right before his eyes. 

“What exactly are you working on right now?”

He looks up at you before he says, “I’m buying land to build a hotel in the Alps.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Funny, huh?”

“Your live is unreal to me sometimes.”

He pours water into a pot, placing it over the stove to bring to a boil. He stalls for a minute, remembering where they kept the ramen packets. “Yeah, to me too.”

You point to the cabinets behind him, and he gives you a quick smile in acknowledgement. 

“So, is that what’s taking up all of your time?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s just a lot of politics and strategy. Meeting in the middle and settling and whatnot. Some of these people are so hard to negotiate with, though. They know real estate, but not hotels.”

“Well, I’d assume not many people do. And I’d assume what you know, you learned at a very young age.”

“Well, not quite. I wasn’t always interested in my field of work, believe it or not.”

“Nonetheless, you grew up around it.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a privilege that you have access to all of this knowledge. What you know- the way you know it, that can’t be taught in a classroom.”

“Well, no. It requires experience.”

Jungkook catches the way you roll your eyes, a huff leaving your mouth as you smile. 

“What?” He says.

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

You raise an eyebrow in defense. “Say what?”

“You know, give me the whole nepotism talk.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles but there’s nothing soft about the action. “Dinner’s ready.”

You stand in deafening silence for a minute, eyes on his, like this is the beginning of something you won’t be able to stop without someone getting hurt. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I’m tired,” you say, turning around and getting ready to leave. 

“Oh, come on.” 

And that makes you stop in your tracks, turning so you can face him again, eyes narrowed and lips ready to spit venom if you so pleased. 

“I don’t feel like fighting with you right now, Jungkook.” And you could’ve left it at that, and perhaps it would’ve been better, but you don’t. “Oh, wait. I don’t have to do that. Because you seem to know what I want to say.”

He walks closer to you and nothing in his face tells you he’s about to extinguish the flames that seem to grow taller between you. 

“Your poker face isn’t all that good, baby.”

“I’m glad my intentions came across clear as day.”

He smiles, eyes diverting from you for a second before his gaze pierces yours once again. You inch closer to him and it’s barely noticeable, scowling back at him. Your blood feels hot and the flame grows bigger, more violent, only the fire gets lost in something else. Something that is only understood the moment Jungkook is pulling you closer and his lips are crashing onto yours in a kiss that makes the warmth travel throughout your body until the whole room is scolding hot. 

Your lips part but a second as you catch your breaths, chests heaving in sync, impossibly close. You try to find words, form a thought, anything that could leave your lips in a coherent sentence but you’re left with nothing. Blank, red, heat. It’s all you can think about. Him and his proximity. When Jungkook diverts his gaze from your eyes to your lips, it’s you that crashes your lips to his once again, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. Both his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing at the flesh and he curses the fabric that comes between his fingertips and your skin. He longs to touch you, he longs to have you and his life was starting to feel like a waiting game when it came to you. He didn’t think he could go a second longer entertaining it.

He walks you backwards until your back hits the kitchen island, flushing himself to you until he’s pressing you against it. Your hands roam down his body, starting down his arms and up his torso, until they’re on his neck again and you wrap your arms around it, hugging him to you. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing before he’s picking you up and sitting you on the counter, taking one step closer so he stands snuggly between your legs as they close around him. And you kiss. You kiss with intention but no direction, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours halfway – sloppy, messy, needy. His hands travel under your dress until he’s squeezing the flesh on your thighs, drawing you closer to him. You loose track of time, not a care in the world but his lips on yours and so does Jungkook, who doesn’t realize how much he’s aching for you until your hips are involuntarily grinding against his. His cock jumps and he’s more alert of you than ever, a throaty moan escaping his lips as you repeat the motion. 

You feel it, too. And some part of your brain tries to tell you that your body’s betraying you. That you’re kissing him with the same mouth that holds secrets from him, anger even. But you don’t care. Your heart leaps the closer he pulls you in and your skin feels wired with electricity the more the sensation of wanting him begins to take over your body. You want him, you need him, and when he’s so supple for you the way he is now there’s no way you could deny yourself the pleasure of having him. 

Your hand begins its descend, squeezing at the nape of his neck, down his chest and toned abdomen, taking a detour to untuck his shirt from under his pants, letting your hands roam inside, feeling his warm skin against them. You feel the way he sucks in a sharp breath, tummy caving in at your touch in anticipation. You smile against his lips and he kisses you harder, palms squeezing your flesh. You finally give him what he wants when your hand closes around his cock, making it pulse against the fabric of his pants. The moan that escapes his mouth borders on a whine and it’s so delicious it has you throwing your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, rejoicing in the little whines that you let out at the feeling. 

He breaks the kiss, reluctantly removing his hands from your body so he can unbutton his shirt, unable to handle the heavy nature the air has taken around him. You lean back, palms resting against the cool marble of the counter, cocking your head to the side and taking him in. You notice him noticing you, and you don’t miss the way he slows down his movements, taking his time all of a sudden, giving you a show. You smile, lip caught between your teeth and you feel the need to close your legs, an impulse reaction at the need of friction. Jungkook notices this, your body jerking slightly, face delirious, eyes desperate and he chuckles. It has bite and attitude, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t get cocky now,” you say, brain short-circuiting when he finally removes his shirt.

“I won’t. Need you too badly to play games right now.”

His words barely register because as soon as they leave him, his lips are back on yours, twice as fervently as before, his purpose clear. You give into him, not wanting to play games either. 

“I need you to touch me, Jungkook.”

His hand comes down to your breast, squeezing and pulling sweet little noises from you. 

“Yeah, baby?”

Your hands find his waistband, undoing the button of his pants, his zipper following, until your hand is traveling down his boxers and gripping around his cock, making him hiss at the contact. 

“Oh, fuck.” His voice is hoarse, deep. Your hand begins to move, thumb collecting the pre cum before you’re circling it around his tip. He bites your bottom lip as you begin to stroke languidly, applying pressure here and there, teasing him. 

“Are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen, Jungkookie?”

“Yeah. It’ll ruin my mornings forever, though.”

You pout, mocking innocence. “Why’s that?”

“Every morning, when I walk in here,” his hands travel under your dress again, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. “I’m gonna see you behind this counter,” he kisses you, a gasp leaving your lips as he hooks his index finger down the side of your panties, a soft touch to your skin. “Making coffee, cooking breakfast.” His middle finger spreads your folds, a soft hum passing his lips when he notices how wet you are. “In your short little dresses, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I-I don’t,” and he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. Middle and index finger entering you slowly, eyes on yours as his face grows confused. 

“You don’t?”

“N-no, mm, Jungkook,” you plead.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“You’re so good, baby.” He kisses you, fingers picking up pace inside of you, finding that spot that has you arching your back for him in no time. “But you know what?”

“W-what?” Your eyes snap open, silently pleading that he doesn’t stop. 

“I think you do know.” His fingers stop and he smirks when your face falls. Your eyes travel down, following the way his hand wraps around his cock, spreading your wetness all over it. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” He pushes your panties to the side before his tip teases your entrance, a moan escaping both your lips in unison. “And I think you like it.” He pushes inside of you and you sigh. He thinks it’s sweet, the way you react to him. You feel so good around him. He cups your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours before stealing a kiss from your lips. “Don’t you like it, baby?”

“Yes. I like it, fuck.” You don’t even knowing what you’re agreeing on at this point and you don’t care, too entranced by the way his cock stretches your walls so perfectly, hitting it so fucking good it’s almost like he was made for your pussy. And in this moment, Jungkook is sure of it. 

“Shit, baby. You feel so good.”

And sure, Jungkook could fuck you at this leisurely pace for the rest of his life, getting to feel every inch of you until it drove him fucking insane. But he wanted more – he needed more – and the way you were digging your nails in his biceps told him that you did, too. When he pulls away, you whine, narrowing your eyes at him and then rolling them when he simply responds with a, “patience.” He wastes no time removing your panties, throwing them behind him before he hooks his hand under your knee, bringing your leg up until your foot is resting against the kitchen counter. He starts fucking you again, but harder this time and the angle is so fucking perfect you swear you begin to see stars in your eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded at the feeling. He kisses down your neck again, letting himself enjoy how good you sound, and how good you feel. How good your skin tastes on his tongue. 

“Don’t stop, baby, oh my God.”

And so he locks in the pace, middle finger finding your clit and circling around it until he feels the way your body begins to shake in his hold, pussy clenching around him. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me,  ___.”

Your body shakes, moans getting louder as he kisses you and you can feel the way he smiles against your lips. He fucks you slow, letting you come down from your high, kissing you passionately and making your mind go hazy with every touch. Every little thing he does sends your mind into a frenzy and you fucking love the feeling. Your body is completely submitted to him, and you let him do whatever he wants to you. You let him kiss you, you let him hold you when he brings you down from the counter and your legs fail you. He laughs and you shush him and then you let him kiss you again. You let him turn you around, gently push you down until the upper half of your body rests against the cold marble. His legs part yours, hands uncovering you as he pushes your dress up and out of the way. He runs his hands down your body gently and you close your eyes, enjoying the moment, content little sighs leaving your mouth. He plays with your pussy, as he kisses down your back and when you begin to clench around his fingers, he fucks you like this. He goes hard, but he goes slow and he grunts when you throw your ass back, meeting him halfway. He spanks you once, twice, making you gasp and wish you had the strength to go for hours. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Please, Jungkook- I need it, please.”

And you’re so pliant, so willing to give him anything he wants. So willing to give yourself to him his cock and heart are basically battling for blood at this point. 

“Nngh- I’m gonna cum.”

You feel his warmth hit your ass, some landing on your back, and it makes you giggle, feeling a tad bit delirious at how ridiculously good that can feel. 

“Truce?” You look back at him, but he’s too enthralled by the way his cum paints your ass. 

“Mhm,” he musters after a second too long. 

“You’re such a boy.”

“And you have such a nice ass.”

He cleans you up with his shirt, helping you step inside your panties and even pulls them up himself. When he comes back up, standing in front of you, he kisses you. Not lustfully, not for the heat of the moment, but for something more. Something that says I’ve missed you. Your heart begins to transform into the odd shape it’d been in the past couple of days because all you can think of is how much you loved him right now. How much you’ve loved him, even amidst your anger and disappointment. You knew it, your body knew it, and now your heart was angry again. 

“Stay the night,” he says. “We’ll tell Mrs. Chae that you got here earlier. Or we’ll sneak you out through a window, I don’t know. But stay.”

Jungkook is just trying to be funny, but his words hurt. And you know they shouldn’t. You know you’d agreed to take things slow, to let him heal and test the waters but your decisions had made you selfish and right now, you had no way of controlling how much you wanted what you wanted. 

“I,” you pause, looking into his eyes. “I better go.”

“Why?”

“I should get home and shower and try to rest before tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes or anything here and- I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Jungkook scans your eyes, trying to find the reason as to why your perfectly logical answer makes him feel so uneasy. But he can’t. He can’t find it, but he also can’t shake the feeling. 

“Okay.” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. I let my exhaustion get the best of me.”

You smile at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I don’t think you’re a nepo baby.”

“Mmm,” he plays, making you laugh.

“Only a little. But I would never say it to your face.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

He nods, kissing you again. And in that moment, you wonder if you’d ever felt your heart break and fall at the same time. 

~

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[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

[thewritingrowlet]

The Twins and Their Queens pt. 1, ft. NMIXX Jiwoo

tags: blowjob, creampie

length: 11k+

author's note: this marks the start of another (mini) series, where we follow the lives of Shane and Shaun, Harvey's little twin brothers. For now, I think the series will have 3-4 parts just like The Outing Trip, but time will tell.

-

Jiwoo wakes up feeling excited today, and she has a very good reason for it: she has secretly made a promise to cook for you to celebrate the 2nd anniversary early, and today, precisely 7 days before the actual anniversary, is the day to do so.

She contains her excitement as she slowly and carefully gets off the bed. To be sure that you won’t wake up and spoil the surprise, she puts a spell on you—she even wiggles her index finger around like a wand for good measure. “Stay asleep, Shane—stay freaking asleep. You’re very tired after working all day yesterday, and you want to sleep until the day changes again.” She hears a hum escape through the small gap of your lips, which makes her confident that the spell is working. “Good boy,” she pats you through the air.

She tippy-toes her way out of the bedroom and gently closes the door behind her; she’s doing everything she can to make as little noise as possible. She looks towards the TV to find the small clock sitting on the shelf: 5:04 a.m. “Should be plenty of time,” she says to herself.

Jiwoo ties her hair in a bun as she prepares to start cooking. She grabs some items from the fridge and sets them on the counter next to her phone. “Right, so,” she opens her memo app and looks at the ingredients list, “noodles, boneless chicken thighs, potato, and onion—that should be everything.”

She drizzles a bit of cooking oil into a non-stick pan that she has prepared and— “oh, wait, the chicken.” She was supposed to cut the chicken into cubes first, so she turns off the burner and places the chicken on a cutting board. Jiwoo skillfully cuts the chicken and then turns her attention back to the pan. “Now we can really start,” she says.

Jiwoo throws in the small pieces of chicken into the hot pan and stirs it around, making sure that it’s cooked through. After that, she tosses in the potato and onion (that she has chopped into cubes secretly yesterday before you got home) and stirs again for a few minutes. Once the potato becomes a bit translucent, she drizzles some more oil and adds black bean paste into the mix. “2 cups of water, okay.” Jiwoo grabs a measuring cup from the cupboard and fills it with water, repeating it again after that to meet the needed measurements. “Hey, Nudle, start a 10-minute timer for me,” she says to her phone, and it responds to her in its catchy voice.

She decides that she’ll use the time to wash the dirty knife and cutting board and wipe the dining table clean. After that’s done, she lies on the sofa to catch her breath. “I hope he doesn’t wake up now,” she thinks to herself while eyeing the bedroom door. For some odd reason, suspense enters Jiwoo’s mind; it’s as if she was watching a horror movie. “Oh, God, please don’t wake up. Han Jaehyun, please don’t wake up—not when I’m this close.” The ring from her phone steals her attention, and she immediately turns it off, concerned that maybe you’ll hear it and wake up. “Okay, okay,” she takes a few deep breaths to calm down, “everything is fine—everything is just fine.”

Jiwoo makes her way to the kitchen again to cook the noodles, which is the second last step to this sneaky adventure. She brings a pot full of water to a boil and throws in the noodles. They’re not dried noodles, so cooking them will only take around a minute, maybe a minute and a half. After that’s done, she turns off the burner and— “FUCK!” She accidentally touches the edge of the hot pot when reaching for the strainer, thus forcing her to let out a scream of profanity because of the combination of shock and pain.

“Are you okay, babe?” Your sudden presence shocks Jiwoo to the core; she didn’t expect you to sneakily come out of the bedroom like this, hence the little jump. That said, she currently has a bigger problem on her hands—literally. “O-oppa,” she says weakly, in pain from the burn, “h-help me, please.” Jiwoo briefly explains that her fingers are burning, so you drag her over to the sink and run some water on her hands. “What were you up to, baby?” You ask in a gentle voice as quiet sobs escape your girlfriend’s lips. “I-I was making some jjajangmyeon for you, oppa.”

You don’t know what to feel right now: you’re touched that she’s making a surprise for you, but at the same time, you hate seeing her get hurt like this, even if it was an accident. “Oh my God, baby,” you feel like your heart is being wrung, “are you feeling better, though? Is this working?” She nods and pulls her hands away from the sink, not forgetting to thank you for the help. You quickly glance at her face and see that there are tears on her plump cheeks. You turn her face towards you and gently wipe her tears with your thumbs, putting on a kind smile in the process.

“You can continue, babe; I’ll watch.” You place a hand on the small of her back and keep an eye on her as she strains the noodles and divides them into the two bowls. Jiwoo then pours a nice amount of the black sauce mix into the bowl. “Let’s eat, oppa,” she says. You stop her from grabbing her bowl and instead pull her into a lifted hug.

“Thank you for all of this, baby; I appreciate everything, seriously,” you say right into her ear. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” she replies in a sad tone, “fuck, you’re so fucking stupid, Kim Jiwoo.” “Oh, c’mon, don’t say such thing,” you deny her attempt at self-deprecation, “you just had a little accident, babe—it doesn’t take anything away from your efforts, trust me.” Jiwoo lets out a hum, and you take it as a sign that she accepts your consolidation. “Now let’s eat, baby. This looks so damn good, and I can’t wait to shove it into my mouth,” you say, hyping her up.

You lower her gently onto one of the two chairs at the table and spray kisses all over her head. “Oppa, please, the food will get cold,” she tries to make you stop. You do stop, but before you grab the bowls from the counter, you turn her head towards you and come in for a kiss. It feels like she’s not too interested in kissing, but when you try to pull away, Jiwoo chases you. “Thank you, oppa,” she says after breaking the little tangle. “The pleasure is mine, baby.”

You take the two bowls from the counter and place them on the table. “Thank you for the meal, baby,” you say. Hearing you thank her again makes Jiwoo feel better about all of this, and it looks like she’s not too upset about “failing” the surprise. “I swapped out the pork belly for chicken, oppa,” she informs you as her chopsticks dance in her bowl, mixing the sauce mix with the noodles.

“Oh!” The first mouthful takes your soul high to the sky, making your body sink limply into the chair. “Oh, my—oh my God, Jiwoo-yah,” your eyelids shut tight as you savor the taste, “this is incredible—the chicken is soooo juicy, too.” Unfortunately, you can only chew for so long before you must swallow. Fortunately, you still have plenty of this heavenly food in your bowl. “Thank you for the meal, baby,” you repeat, “thank you so, so, so, so much.” Your sweetness makes Jiwoo feel better once again, and her lips, without her realizing, are forming a wide smile. “Th-thank you, oppa,” she fans her red cheeks to cope with the heat.

You keep your attention on your bowl, shoving more and more food into your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. “Howy shid,” you swallow the food in your mouth before continuing, “I don’t have the adjectives, but I know my brothers would fight to have a bite.” Jiwoo can’t take it anymore. She rushes to you and squeezes your cheek in playful aggression. “Youuuuuu,” she kneads your face like they were bread dough, “you are sooooo—arghhhhh.” You let out unintelligible sounds as your face contorts from her touch. “B-babe, stop,” you hold her wrists to halt her, “you haven’t even taken a bite, have you?”

With a sigh, she returns to her seat and puts some noodles in her mouth. She starts chewing in silence while her eyes roam around. “Hmm,” she rubs her chin as she thinks about the taste, “could use a bit more salt, but yeah, this is pretty good.” “Pretty good? What do you mean pretty good? This is very good,” you argue. Your girlfriend lets out a long sigh in defeat. “Fine,” she says, “thank you for the kind words, oppa—I love you.”

You leave your seat and pull her onto her feet. “You know what I want, don’t you?” You expect her to come in for a hug, but no, she’s getting down on her knees. “Wait, wait, not that one,” you pull her onto her feet again, “I meant this.” You wrap your arms around her and make sure your hands meet perfectly on the small of her back. You whisper all the praises you can come up with, and most importantly: “I love you, precious. I love you so, so much and thank you for cooking for us this morning.” Jiwoo responds by giving you a peck, letting you know that the praises are well received.

“Come on, oppa, let’s shower,” she pulls away from the embrace, “I’ll take care of this, so you can go first.” You thank her one more time—you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve thanked her so far—and make your way towards the bathroom while Jiwoo stays behind to wash the dishes.

In the silence, Jiwoo finds herself grinning widely. “That was a success in my book,” she giggles, “one point for Kim Jiwoo—whooo, let’s go!”

-

“Oppa, do you think I can work at Harvey-oppa’s company? Will he take me in?”

“First of all, why do you want to work for him? Is there something wrong with your current job?”

“Nothing is wrong, but I feel like working for him would make me feel more motivated—y’know, he’s family and all that.”

Your heart flutters a little when you hear Jiwoo refer to your brother as family; she understands the importance of family and sees your brothers as her own, and you’d like to think that this is a good sign for the relationship going forward.

You clear your throat to focus back on her. “Okay, so do you want me to talk to him? We can call him now,” you offer her some help. Jiwoo says that she’ll try updating her CV and send an application first, and if that doesn’t work, then she’ll consider resorting to nepotism—not the prettiest or classiest approach to say the least, but it does have a high chance of success. “Okay, you do that,” you say, “maybe I’ll join you one day.”

“Why aren’t you working for Harvey-oppa? Is that not what mama and papa want for you and Shaun-oppa?”

“Yes, but Yunho-hyung is paying me very handsomely, and I don’t feel like leaving his company at the moment.”

“Ckckckckck,” Jiwoo shakes her head, “imagine not working for your brother because someone else pays you more—couldn’t be me.”

“I need the money to buy a ring and a house for you, baby,” you say in your head while putting on a smile as a front. “Well, it’s time to go to work—let’s get changed, babe.” You and Jiwoo exchange pecks for good luck and walk towards the bedroom together to get changed.

-

Jiwoo boots up her laptop as soon as she arrives at her cubicle. “CV, CV—where is my CV,” she browses through a bunch of work-related folders to find it, and she finds this file named “CV KIM JIWOO” that was last modified around a year ago. Before she opens this file, she looks around to make sure no one is watching—it’d be awkward if someone found out Jiwoo is trying to leave this company for another.

Jiwoo scrolls up and down through her CV, trying to figure out which part is out-of-date, and she finds that only the experience and skills need to be updated. She adds one more bullet point to the list of experience and explains briefly the things she’s accomplished in her current company, such as projects she’s taken a part of and awards she’s received. Just those two things alone take up over half a page since Jiwoo is very good at her stuff and well-liked by her co-workers, which means that she’s very often included on projects—it also means that she makes a lot in bonuses since each project usually comes with one. Jiwoo’s cursor hovers over a particular project that she’s very proud of, considering its complexity and how well she did her part. “If this doesn’t land me a job at Harvey-oppa’s company, then HR is cooked in the head and he needs to find replacements,” she says to herself.

Moving on, she adds some new information to the skills section of her CV. She recently got 855 on a TOEIC test and is very proud about it, so she replaces her old score of 820 with the new one. “I’m sure someone of foreign descent like him will appreciate good English proficiency,” she thinks to herself. One thing to note, however, is that her application will first arrive in the hands of HR and not one of the big bosses like Han Harvey, and she hopes that everything written on her CV is enough to impress the lower-level managers—if she can help it, she wants to get the job legitimately, not through nepotism.

Before she wraps this up and starts working, she reads her CV one more time from the top. “Name is correct, date of birth is also correct, address is—hmm, should I use Shane-oppa’s address?”

While Jiwoo thinks about it, someone taps her shoulder from behind. “What the—oh my God, unnie!” Jiwoo just got caught off-guard and red-handed by her co-worker, Soodam, who must’ve snuck up behind her when she was deep in her thoughts. “Hey there,” Soodam greets Jiwoo with a smile, “looking to jump ship, cookie?” Jiwoo minimizes the window on her laptop and turns to Soodam with red cheeks. “P-please don’t tell anyone about this, unnie; I-I just want to explore my opportunities,” she says. “Do you think I can go with you, Jiwoo-yah?” Soodam’s question startles Jiwoo. “Y-you want to leave too, unnie?”

Soodam explains that she thinks she’s not getting paid enough for the amount of work that she does and would like to “explore her opportunities,” just like Jiwoo. “I’ll talk to my boy—” Jiwoo covers her mouth to stop herself, but Soodam catches the slip. “Boyfriend, huh? What can your boyfriend do for us?” Before the conversation goes even further, Jiwoo pulls Soodam closer towards her. “My boyfriend is the brother of this other company’s boss,” she whispers to her, “I told him I’d try doing things legitimately first before… y’know.” “I’m with you,” Soodam says, “good to know that you have insider ties, though.”

After parting ways with Soodam, Jiwoo pulls out her phone to text you. “Oppa, who do I send my CV to?” She sees that you’re not online currently, so she locks her phone and gets ready to start working for possibly her last day at this company.

-

You see Jiwoo’s text on your notification bar, but you don’t want to answer right away; you first need a second opinion on this matter, and there’s no one more qualified for that other than your dear sister-in-law. “Noona, I need you; please pick up,” you say while waiting for her to pick up the call.

“Hello, this is Kim Yooyeon.”

“Oh, yes,” you sigh in relief, “noona, this is Shane.”

“Yes, I know,” you hear a chuckle from her over the phone, “can I help you? Are you looking for your brother?”

“No, no, I’m not looking for him—I’m looking for you,” you say, “can we talk? Do you have time?”

“Yeah, sure—what do you need?”

“This morning Jiwoo asked me if she could work for Hyunjin-hyung because she said it’d make her feel more motivated because he’s family, and now I’m wondering if I should tell him about Jiwoo’s intentions.”

Your noona stays silent for a moment, trying to come up with a solution.

“Jiwoo said she wanted to do it legitimately, but I want to help her—you know, with insider ties” you pile on.

“Well, in that case,” she says, “I’d say just let her do it her way first, and if that doesn’t work, then we’ll consider other methods.”

“Do you know when Hyunjin-hyung is coming home, by the way?”

“No, I don’t,” she lets out a deep sigh, “I miss him more than anyone, I can assure you that.”

“Noona,” you get ready to move on to the next subject, “I want to get married.”

“Huh? What?” The suddenness most likely surprises Yooyeon. “Wait, what? Why so sudden? Have you even talked to Jiwoo about this?”

“No, I haven’t—I just envy the way the both of you are so in love with each other,” you say, “do you think I have a chance at marriage, noona?”

“What the h—well, yes, I do; I think you’re a nice guy and Jiwoo is a nice girl,” she says, “you know, you’re being such a terrible little brother right now—how can you ask a woman whose husband hasn’t been home for a week about marriage?”

You’re not sure where she’s going with this. “Sorry, what?”

”Ugh, forget it,” she says, and based on her tone, you can picture her rolling her eyes, “anyway, like I said, let Jiwoo do it her way and then we’ll see what things look like.”

You thank her for the help, and after exchanging goodbyes, you hang up the call, and now that you have an answer to this equation, you turn your attention to Jiwoo. Via text, you send Han Group’s HR’s email address to her. You end the text with, “You said you wanted to do this legitimately, so I wish you good luck, baby.” “Thank you, daddy,” she replies, “I’ll send it right now—I love you!” Your eyes blink rapidly in a combination of disbelief and startlement; she just called you daddy as if you were in the bedroom. “Time and place, Jiwoo-yah—my God.” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.” You reply to her and delete her text just to be safe.

-

You always pick up Jiwoo at her office after work, and today is no different. You stop on the side of the road right in front of the glass front doors of her building and wait for her to come out. After a few minutes, you see her walking out with another woman. “Wait, that’s—”

You jump out of the car (after looking at the side mirror first) and meet the two women. “Oppa, this is my co-worker, Soodam-unnie. Unnie, this is my boyfriend,” Jiwoo introduces the two of you. Soodam’s eyes widen in shock, “wait, are you—” “No, I’m Shane—you’re thinking about my twin brother,” you cut her off, and you swear that you can see her sighing in relief.

For context, Shaun, who is always into older women, tried courting this Soodam lady a few years ago, only to find out that she was engaged to another man. That was almost disastrous, by the way; your older brother even had to intervene.

Jiwoo looks at the two of you in confusion but quickly moves on to another subject. “Soodam-unnie also sent an application to Harvey-oppa’s company,” Jiwoo briefly gives some context. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Inside, however, you wonder if it is indeed so, because Shaun works at Han Group, and considering that he is in a relationship with someone else, this could be problematic. “This is not your problem, Shane,” you think to yourself.

You shake hands with Soodam with a smile on your face—a smile that’s hiding awkwardness behind it. “Nice to meet you, miss,” you say, and she says the same to you. You shoot a quick look at Jiwoo, who immediately catches the signal, and the two of you get ready to part ways with Soodam. Jiwoo hugs Soodam and then walks with you to the car, leaving Soodam alone on the side of the road.

In the private space of your car, Jiwoo airs her confusion. “Do you know her, oppa? Why did you mention your twin?” You shortly explain to her the history of Shaun and Soodam and why Soodam was visibly startled to see you. “So Soodam-unnie reacted like that because she must’ve mistaken you for Shaun-oppa—did I get that right?” “You did, baby,” you say, “and now I’m concerned that they’ll see each other again if she moves to Han Group.” “My God.” Jiwoo leans back in her seat as she tries to process this shocking reveal. “Don’t tell Seeun-noona about any of this, babe; we don’t want to get Shaun in trouble,” you say to her.

After catching up with your family’s little history, Jiwoo mentions that she wants to eat out for dinner. You ask if she has preferences, and she says that she wants to get tteokbokki. “You and your tteokbokki, babe—you’d think you would’ve got sick of it by now,” you comment, earning a giggle and a playful slap from her.

After a short drive, you find yourself stopping in front of an alley where Jiwoo’s favorite tteokbokki restaurant is located. You get out of the car with her and make your way towards the restaurant. She’s been to this place a lot; the middle-aged lady at the cashier (who you assume is the owner) instantly recognizes her and guesses that she wants the usual.

There aren’t that many empty seats at the moment; it seems like a lot of people have the same idea and want to have tteokbokki after work. You scan around the interior and find a table in the far corner of the restaurant, whose occupants are about to leave. They seem to have left the table clean, and you fast-walk towards it to claim it before anyone else—you’re the designated seat finder in this relationship, so leaving Jiwoo behind to sit first is A-okay.

Jiwoo joins you shortly after and sits across from you. Usually, she’d rather sit next to you, but the space doesn’t really allow that; to your left is the wall and to your near right is another table. She rests her head on the table, looking very exhausted after working today. “Tired, baby?” You pet her head gently, running your hands through her hair the way she likes it. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbles, “I had a lot of work today.” You praise her for working so hard all the time, and even though you can’t see it, she’s probably grinning in pride right now.

You tap Jiwoo’s arm to get her to straighten her posture as a server is on his way to you with your orders. He places a large bowl of tteokbokki and another large bowl of popcorn chicken somewhat crassly—he also has a sour face. “Yeah,” Jiwoo says, “he isn’t known for being the nicest guy around.” You’re starting to feel disgruntled; if you were alone, you wouldn’t be so mad to see poor service, but considering that you’re with a loved one, you feel angrier—no one gets to be rude and ruin the vibes when you’re with those you love. “I don’t mean to be arrogant, but we can easily buy out this place and replace that guy,” you snark. “That is arrogant, oppa,” Jiwoo rubs the back of your hand gently to calm you down. “Please, it’s okay—he’s probably just tired, oppa, like we are.” You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and apologize for your attitude.

Your girlfriend picks up a piece of tteokbokki and immediately chases it with a large piece of chicken. As you watch her eat, you can feel the heat in your heart gradually dissipate, and a smile is forming on your face. She picks up a piece of tteokbokki and immediately chases it with a large piece of chicken. You decide to put down your chopsticks and enjoy the sight of your girlfriend eating in front of you, not caring if she finishes the whole meal by herself.

It seems like she’s very hungry too; it took her until halfway through the meal to realize that you haven’t eaten at all. “Oh my God, oppa,” she exclaims, “why aren’t you eating?” “Ah,” you’re snapped out of your trance, “I was too busy watching you eat, baby.” You’re torn between two options, though: do you want to get some food into your belly after working all day, or do you want to keep watching your girlfriend eat oh-so-cutely?

“Say aaah.” Jiwoo decides for you by guiding a piece of chicken towards your mouth, leaving you with no choice but to open your mouth. There’s a grin on your face as you chew, and you can see her grinning too; you realize that only Jiwoo deserves your attention right now—it doesn’t matter if anyone else tries to ruin the mood; she’ll easily draw a smile on your face. “Thank you, baby,” you say to her, “I love you so much.” “I love you too,” she replies, “now eat, please.”

-

You get back to your car with Jiwoo after finishing the meal. “Would you like to get anything else before we go home, baby?” “No, let’s just go home, please.” Based on her tone, you can tell that she only has little energy left in her tank. “Home it is.” You turn the steering wheel to the left and place a foot on the accelerate pedal to join the moving lane.

The traffic isn’t too bad; it’s just that this specific traffic light is infamous for its long queues during rush hour. In the corner of your eyes, you see that your girlfriend is sleeping in her seat with her mouth slightly open. Unfortunately, it seems like her current position isn’t too comfortable, but there’s nothing you can do at the moment. “We’ll sleep properly at home, alright, babe?”

After getting through the traffic light, you pick up the speed, aiming to get home as soon as possible so that Jiwoo can rest properly. You take advantage of slower drivers and change lanes whenever possible, earning some honks from other drivers occasionally. “Screw you—pay attention to the road next time,” you comment.

You go through the last turn before you reach your apartment building and quickly go up to your designated parking spot. Once your car is neatly parked, you turn off your car and turn your attention to your girlfriend, who is still asleep. You then rush to your unit with Jiwoo’s limp body in your arms.

“We’re here, baby.” You lower her gently onto the bed, and she’s still asleep. You prepare a T-shirt and shorts for her to change into for later. “I’ll shower first, babe.” As you’re leaving, however, you hear a grunt of disapproval from your girlfriend. “Oppa,” she calls to you with raspy voice, “don’t leave me.” You join her in bed and pull her into a cuddle. “Wait, don’t you want to change first, babe? I prepared some clothes for you.” You can tell that she doesn’t want to move too much but her work clothes are anything but comfortable. “Help me change, oppa,” she says.

“May I?” You ask for consent, which Jiwoo gives in the form of a nod. You start unbuttoning her shirt from the top. With Jiwoo’s cooperation, you free her arms from the restraining sleeves of her shirt, and if it weren’t for her bra, she’d be entirely topless right now. You move to take off her trousers, but first: “may I, baby?” Jiwoo nods to your question, expressing her consent one more time, so with that, you unzip her trousers and pull them down her legs until they’re properly off.

Jiwoo lifts her butt off the bed when you try putting on a pair of shorts for her. “Last one, baby.” You put on a T-shirt for her, and she cooperates once again by putting her arms through the sleeves herself. “Good girl,” you peck her on the forehead, “my turn now.”

You change into a T-shirt and shorts before joining your girlfriend in bed. “Hngh,” Jiwoo grunts again while reaching her arms out, asking to be held. “Of course, baby; I won’t forget about you.” You pull her into your embrace and close your eyes, savoring the lingering scent of her perfume from this morning. “Let’s rest a bit, okay? We can worry about other stuff later,” you say.

-

Something is telling you to open your eyes, so you do—what time is it, even? In your half-asleep state, you look around the dark bedroom with your half-open eyes. You can see and feel that Jiwoo is still in your arms, which is a good start. You gently run your hand on her back, just the way she likes it.

If there’s anything that could be considered “wrong” with you, it’s your inability to keep your hands off your girlfriend, but at least she’s okay with it most of the time; physical contact is one of Jiwoo’s favorite things in the world.

“Oppa,” she calls to you suddenly, “I want to be with you forever.” You really want to say that you’re working on it, but you don’t want to spoil your plans, so for now, you give her a basic answer: “I want to be with you forever as well, baby; there’s nothing more that I want for us than that.”

“Do you think we have Harvey-oppa’s approval?” Ah, she’s concerned about your older brother, the honorary head of the Han family. “You do,” you assure her, “he and Yooyeon-noona know what kind of person we are. Not only that, but they also know that we’re in love with each other.” Jiwoo lets out a hum, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Their anniversary is around the corner, right?” Jiwoo moves on to the next subject. “Huh, you’re right,” you just realized now. “We should call them, oppa; you know, say congratulations and all that,” she suggests. “We’ll call them this morning before leaving for work, okay? Let’s try going to sleep again for now.” You peck her head a few times and close your eyes again.

-

The morning rolls around, and you wake up after what felt like a few minutes of sleep (it was probably a few hours in actuality). “Baby, sweetie, cookie—let’s wake up, hey?” You poke Jiwoo a few times to wake her up, and she slowly opens her eyes. “I’m tired, oppa,” she says. You look at your phone to see if she has time for extra rest. “You have 30 minutes, baby—I’ll take a shower first while you sleep, okay?”

While standing under running water, you remember Jiwoo telling you that your brother’s anniversary is coming soon. “I should call them after this,” you think. You quickly finish showering and check up on your girlfriend again.

“Baby, I’m sorry but your time is up.” You hate breaking it to her, but you have no other choice. With a groan, Jiwoo gets off the bed and wraps her arms around your body. “Take care of me, oppa.” You’re not sure what kind of taking care of she needs, but you think that it’s probably best to have her shower first. You lift her by her thighs and carry her towards the bathroom.

She lightly bites you in the neck when she notices that you’re taking her to the bathroom. “Oh my God, I hate you sometimes—why are you doing this to me, oppa?” “Sorry, baby, but this is necessary.” You gently lower her onto her feet and make to leave the bathroom area. “Wait!” Jiwoo halts your steps by hugging you from behind. “Please—please don’t leave me.”

You’re not sure why she’s behaving like this. “Baby, are you okay? You don’t act like this usually.” “I-I don’t know,” she says, “I just don’t want to be left alone.” “Okay, so do you want to shower with me, or do you want me to wait here?” Jiwoo takes a sniff and lets out a grunt after. “You already showered, so I’ll just shower alone—wait here, please.”

Jiwoo lets go of the hug and walk backwards to the bathroom, keeping her eyes on you the whole time. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” You sit on the floor in front of the bathroom and simply wait for her to shower. “What’s going on with Jiwoo, man?” You ask yourself, wondering why she’s acting like this out of nowhere.

-

You feel someone poking you on the knee. “Oppa, what are you doing?” You open your eyes and see Jiwoo, fresh out of the shower with wet hair, kneeling in front of you. “Did you fall asleep, oppa?” “I must’ve,” you rub your eyes to get yourself together, “you’re done showering, baby?” Jiwoo holds your hands and tugs, signaling to you to stand up, so you do just that. She then comes in for a hug, placing her head on your chest. “I’m sorry for being difficult, oppa.” You assure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. “You’re always so kind, oppa—thank you,” she says.

You lie down on the sofa while Jiwoo dries her hair, and you’re reminded again that your brother and his wife, Yooyeon, are celebrating their anniversary today. You come up with a congratulatory message and send it to Yooyeon. “I think I’m looking to propose by the end of the month, noona,” you add.

The app says that she’s typing, and the timing couldn’t be any more perfect: Jiwoo is asking if you can video call your sister-in-law. “Sure, let’s do it,” you say. Once she’s ready, you start the call.

“Hey, guys,” your brother greets you from the other side of the screen, “good morning!”

You take the speaking baton first. “Good morning, hyung and noona—congratulations on the 6th anniversary, guys!”

Harvey thanks you for the congratulations, and in return, he asks how you and Jiwoo are doing. “We’ve been very good, oppa,” Jiwoo takes the baton from you, “I know we’re not married yet, but our 2nd anniversary is around the corner.”

Truthfully, you forgot that it is indeed around the corner; you shoot a glance at the sleeping TV, which screen saver says the date and time, and see that your anniversary is 6 days away.

“Ask Shane to take you on a dinner, Jiwoo-yah; I’m sure he has the money for it,” your brother says, snapping you out of your little trance, and the gears in your head start turning, trying to quickly come up with a plan to celebrate your anniversary.

Through the video call, you see that your sister-in-law is aiming her camera at the food on their table. “Ahhhh, unnieeee!” Jiwoo slaps your thighs repeatedly, reacting hysterically to the Morningside logo on the bowl shown on the screen. She promptly turns her attention to you and whispers something right in your ear. “Oppa, can we go to Morningside this weekend?” You respond to her suggestion with a nod. “We’ll join you next time, unnie—we have other things to do today,” Jiwoo says.

You take turns with your girlfriend to start conversations with your brother and his wife, and after a few minutes, you notice that she’s almost ready to end the call. “Harvey-oppa, Yooyeon-unnie,” Jiwoo says, her tone sweet and sincere, “congratulations on the anniversary, seriously. I hope me and oppa get to live happily together like the two of you.” “Thank you for the kind words, cookie,” Harvey says, “we’re rooting for the both of you—see you soon!”

You exchange goodbye waves with the people on the other side of the screen then end the call right after. “Visit us this Saturday for Jack-in-the-box,” says a text message from Yooyeon, making your heart rate climb. “What does that mean, oppa?” Jiwoo points at your screen, right where the floating notification is. “I-I don’t know,” you answer nervously.

You’re nervous because truthfully, you know what it means: you, Shaun, and Harvey came up with that term to secretly refer to “getting a ring and proposing” when Harvey was courting Yooyeon a few years ago. So the fact that he’s said it now after all this time must mean that he’s in full support of your relationship and encourages you to commit further, which is both exciting and nerve-wracking.

“You believe in us, don’t you, hyung?” You say in your head while trying to maintain a straight face. “You’re acting weird,” Jiwoo comments with a chuckle, “first it was me, and now it’s you—what’s wrong with us today, oppa?” You let out an awkward chuckle, still trying your best to not show your nervousness. “Well, I guess we’ll find out,” you deflect, “c’mon, let’s go to work.”

-

Before you know it, it’s now Saturday. Your brother invited you to his house a few days ago for Jack-in-the-box, a secret term that hasn’t been mentioned in years—one problem, though: how do you go to his house alone, because Jiwoo most likely would want to tag along if she’s free.

You sit on the sofa, rubbing your chin to come up with something to dissuade your girlfriend from coming along, and that’s when she walks out of the bedroom with a question. “Oppa, Soodam-unnie asked me to hang out at a café with her—can I go?” “Of course, baby,” you put on a smile for her, “do you want me to take you there?” She takes you up on your offer and gets back into the bedroom to change, and you let out a deep sigh of relief; you don’t need to fool her into not tagging along because she already has something else to do.

After dropping off Jiwoo at the café, you start driving towards your brother’s house, which is quite close from where you are. There’s little-to-no traffic today, since it’s the weekend and still early—it’s barely 10 a.m.

You pull into his driveway next to his car and get off yours. “Hi,” your brother greets you from the front door, “come in, we need to talk first.” You follow him inside but see no sign of his wife. “Where’s noona?” He says that she just got out of the bathroom and will join you soon.

Your brother takes a seat on the sofa while you take the cushion chair to his left. “Oh, you’re here,” Yooyeon greets you, “this must be for the Jack-in-the-box thing.” She takes the empty spot next to her husband. “Can one of you explain what that means?” Harvey explains briefly what it means: “we’re also going to help him buy a ring,” he adds.

“Do you think you’re ready for this?” Your brother’s question makes you nervous. “I do,” you answer, “I, erm, I think we’re in love, a-and, you know—” The way you’re stuttering makes them laugh. “Well, I hope that you’ll be less nervous as the day goes.” Harvey stands up from his seat, and when the (honorary) head of the family stands up, you follow. “Let’s go get breakfast first and then we’ll visit the jewelers, hm?”

You depart in your brother’s car to ensure maximum secrecy—Jiwoo wouldn’t recognize this car if you happen to pass in front of the café she’s at. You take a seat in the middle row behind your brother because obviously the front passenger seat isn’t vacant. “We haven’t done this in so long, haven’t we, hyung?” Your question makes Harvey smile. “We haven’t, true—we’ll do this again with everyone once Shaun and Seeun return from New York.”

You’re promptly reminded of your meeting with Soodam. “Hyung, I met Soodam-noona a few days ago.” His unique, sharp eyes look at you through the rear-view mirror of the car. “Yeah? What did she say?” “She thought I was Shaun,” you answer. You hear a deep sigh coming from him. “That’s fine, I guess—it could’ve been worse.” Yooyeon is curious: she doesn’t know who Soodam is, and in turn, doesn’t know what Shaun has to do with her. When she asks, Harvey explains in longer form their history, and at the end, you see her placing a palm on her face.

-

You, Harvey, and Yooyeon sit together at a 4-person table at Morningside, which happens to be somewhat empty currently. Here are the things you and your company ordered: two Singaporean-style toasts, two congee with char siu beef, and three hot lychee tea.

“Shane,” Harvey whispers to you while looking over your shoulders. “Jiwoo is here.” You turn around in shock, and would you look at that: she is indeed here—Soodam is also here. “Oh, shit, the surprise is spoiled,” you think, and you feel like you understand how Jiwoo felt when her surprise was spoiled a short while ago. “She doesn’t see us, though,” you comment.

While it is true that Jiwoo doesn’t see you, Soodam does and tells Jiwoo about your presence. She jogs towards your table and gives you a peck on the lips. “Oh my God, what a crowd—hello, my name is Kim Jiwoo. Pleased to meet you,” she says, earning a collective laughter from your group. “Crazy coincidence, isn’t it, baby?” “It is—we could’ve gone together, oppa.” Jiwoo then asks again if she can hang out with Soodam, and obviously, you let her go. You’re not holding her back from hanging out with her friends (aside from her male co-workers who have tried shooting their shots but that’s a story for another time).

“God,” you let out a sigh of relief, “I thought it was blown.” Your brother lets out a laugh, fully understanding of your feelings. “Keeping a secret from your beloved lady is never easy—ask me how I know” he adds, and Yooyeon joins him in laughing.

The smell of butter steals your attention, and when you turn your head around, you see a server walking towards your table. “That must be your toasts, noona,” you say, and indeed, it is her toasts. You help the server distribute food to your brother and his wife. “The tea will be out after this—please kindly wait,” the server says, already way kinder than that guy working at the tteokbokki restaurant. “Sure, no problem—thank you,” you reply with a smile.

Yooyeon is the first to both take a bite and react to her food, letting out satisfied hums while chewing her first mouthful. “I really can’t have enough of this,” she comments. Harvey reacts to that by giving her a peck on the cheek—a cute sight, really; you love seeing your brother interacting with his wife and how in love they are with each other.

-

After a short ride, the three of you arrive at this seemingly none-of-the-ordinary jewelers.

You ask Harvey if he’s been here before. “Hm? Oh, yeah,” he says, “I bought a necklace for Yooyeon-ie from this place a few months ago.” “You did, hon?” Yooyeon scratches her head as she tries to remember. In playful aggresiveness, your brother pinches his wife cheeks for failing to remember. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She exclaims frantically, and your brother stops right away. “Come on, let’s find something for our cookie,” he says, leading you and Yooyeon inside.

“Ah, welcome, Mr. Han,” a staff member in a neat three-piece suit greets your brother. He then takes turns to shake your and Yooyeon’s hands. “My little brother here is looking for a ring,” Harvey says. “Do you know the measurements, sir?” The staff turns his attention to you. Your eyes land on your sister-in-law as you think about Jiwoo’s finger size. “Should be similar to my noona here,” you say. Yooyeon takes off her ring and passes it to the staff who then takes a measurement.

“Size 6, hey?” He shuffles some shelves around and place one that’s packed with brilliant rings on the top. “Here are the options we have currently, sir—we can also make a custom ring but that will take longer and cost more,” he says. Harvey can tell that you’re nervous about the price, so he whispers in your ear that he’ll take care of it. “Your job today, Shane, is to choose one that you really like,” he says. “Thank you for this, seriously,” you whisper back to him, getting a soft pat on the back from him.

You first point out to the staff member that you’d rather choose from this abundance of choices than wait for a custom-made ring. “Can I look at that one, please? Row 3 column G,” you say. You flip it around in your hand, inspecting small diamond main piece. “Jiwoo doesn’t like flashy stuff, so I think this is definitely one of the choices for now,” you comment. You place the ring on the glass counter and start looking for other options. “Row 5 column C, please,” you say. Upon closer inspection, however, it doesn’t look as good as the first one.

Initially, you thought that you should find 3 rings to choose from, but aside from the first ring your eyes landed on, nothing else catches your fancy. “Guys, what do you think?” You turn to Harvey and Yooyeon for opinions. Yooyeon defers; she thinks that you should choose what you like. Her husband, on the other hand, thinks that your choice is a good one. “I would buy that if I were proposing—I’m not, just so we’re clear,” he adds, laughing at the end. “I’ll take this, please.” You hand the ring back to the guy, earning a praise for your “good eye” from him.

-

Today is the day of your 2nd anniversary with Jiwoo. Not only that, today is also the day she’s doing an interview for the job at Han Group she has applied for.

Jiwoo says that she has permission from her manager to take today off so that she can go to the in-person interview. She also asks you to drop her off at the Han Group building on your way to work. “Sure, baby—let’s leave after this, okay?”

For the interview, Jiwoo opts for a white shirt and a black skirt—a very typical interview attire worn by fresh graduates looking for a job. She walks into the building and sees a reception desk that has someone attending it. “Excuse me, miss,” she says quietly, “my name is Kim Jiwoo. I’m here for an interview.” After looking at the screen in front of her, the staff tells Jiwoo to go up to the 4th floor, where an interviewer will join her soon.

Jiwoo sees an open room with a big conference table on the 4th floor. “This is it, probably,” she thinks. It is when she’s right at the door that she sees the short list of today’s interviewees: Kim Jiwoo and Lee Soodam. She also sees that each person will be given around an hour for the interview.

“Hello. You must be Kim Jiwoo.” A female around her age enters the room, making Jiwoo jump a little thanks to the shock. Her eyes widen when she sees the person behind this lady. “Hi, cookie. How are you today?” Harvey’s sudden presence stuns Jiwoo: no one mentioned that he’d be in the room where it happens—what if she lets him down? What if he thinks that Jiwoo isn’t needed at Han Group?

“Mi-mister Han,” she stutters, “p-pleasure to meet you, s-sir.” Harvey laughs. “You thought I wouldn’t know, Miss Kim? I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know,” he says. Jiwoo remains quiet as Harvey moves to take a seat at the other end of the table. “Please, there’s nothing to be nervous about. We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?” “Y-yes, sir,” she replies nervously. Harvey shows her a kind smile. “Well, let’s start now, Miss Jo,” he says to the interviewer.

Miss Jo, paying little attention to personal details, throws some work-related questions at Jiwoo, and she answers each one as best she can, glancing occasionally at Harvey. “Wow, their smiles are very similar,” she thinks. Miss Jo then turns to him, passing the speaking baton over. “So, Miss Kim,” he starts, “can you tell me what you’re looking for at this company?” Jiwoo’s heart races as she tries to come up with an answer. “With respect, sir, I think working at Han Group w-would make me be more motivated,” she says the first answer that comes to mind. “Really? How so?” In her head, she wonders if she should say the same thing she did to you: because Harvey is family. “Ah, whatever—here goes nothing.” She takes a deep breath and answers: “b-because I’d be working for fa-f-family, s-sir.” Her stutter was worse than earlier, making her want to slap herself for it.

Harvey grins. “Family, Miss Kim?” He asks, and she’s starting to regret saying such answer. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “First, I like that you refer to me as family—I’m sure your significant other would be delighted to hear it if he was here. Second, I think that someone can only be really motivated about work if they enjoy and find satisfaction in it. Sure, working for family sounds like a good time, but at the same time, there’s the burden of relationship in that; there’s a chance that you’ll find it difficult to make objective decisions or critics because, well, they’re family.”

Jiwoo can’t help but stay silent during Harvey’s speech, feeling the pressure of the big boss’ commanding presence. “Any opinions on that, Miss Kim?” “N-none, sir. I understand what you said, and I think it made sense,” Jiwoo replies. Harvey whispers something to Miss Jo, and after a short back-and-forth, she leaves her seat and walks out of the room.

Harvey summons Jiwoo to sit next to him, and she complies immediately. “Jiwoo-yah,” he says, his tone softer than earlier, “why are you here, seriously? Answer honestly, please." She wipes the stray tear her glassy eyes released. “I-I meant it, oppa; I want to work for you because you are family,” she emphasizes. He puts his hand on Jiwoo’s, rubbing the back of it gently, the exact same way you usually do. “If you’re so sure, then I’m not stopping you—welcome to Han Group, Jiwoo-yah.” Jiwoo, without asking for permission first, jumps to hug Harvey. “Thank you so much, oppa. I won’t let you down, I swear,” she says tearily. “I know, cookie,” he replies, “go home for now, your work here can start some time else.”

-

As soon as you enter your apartment, a fragrant smell enters your nostrils. “Jiwoo-yah, where are you, baby?” You hear her reply from the kitchen area, so you drop everything at the door and make your way towards her.

“Welcome home!” Jiwoo hugs you warmly as a welcome. “Thank you, baby—what is this smell, by the way?” Over her head, you see that there’s a pot sitting on one of the burners. In it, there’s rice cake swimming in a bubbling red sauce—oh, there’s popcorn chicken on the counter, too. “You hated the service at that tteokbokki place, so I made it for you,” she says. You barrage her head with kisses, showing your appreciation for her efforts. “You always spoil me with your cooking, baby,” you say at the end.

Your girlfriend asks you to sit at the table while she gives final touches to her cooking. She then proceeds to put some in two bowls and places them on the table. “Thank you for the meal, baby!” You grab the chopsticks she has provided and immediately put a piece of rice cake in your mouth. “Oh, that’s so good.” You then chase it with a piece of chicken. “Wow, that’s also really good.” Your eyes land on Jiwoo, and you see that she has her happy face on; her plump cheeks are squished by the wide grin on her face.

“There’s no way it’s that good,” she thinks you’re exaggerating. “Why are you putting yourself down? Just take a bite and see for yourself, why don’t you,” you say, and based on your tone alone, Jiwoo can tell that you’re starting to get annoyed by her attitude. “It’s not that, oppa; it’s just that when you cook, your food doesn’t taste as good as when you buy it,” she reasons, her soft tone different to yours.

She takes a mouthful of food and thinks about the taste as she chews. “It is good,” she shyly admits, “I see why you like it so much.” “See? Don’t put yourself down so much next time, okay, baby?” Jiwoo nods and promises that she’ll keep it in mind and never do it again.

“Oppa,” she moves on to another subject, “I got the job at Han Group.” “Yeah? How did the interview go?” Jiwoo first mentions that Harvey was present during the interview and how surprising it was for her to see him. “I had a feeling that you wouldn’t have gotten away with being sneaky,” you say, adding a chuckle at the end. “You didn’t say anything to him, though, right?” No, you didn’t say anything to anyone about Jiwoo’s sneaky job search—it’s just that your brother does have eyes and ears everywhere.

-

After dinner, you find yourself chilling on the sofa with Jiwoo. She’s resting her head on your thighs while her hands are busy with her phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media. You, on the other hand, can’t be bothered with it; you have a bigger thing to think about: how do you propose to Jiwoo? “Should I take her to the park? Do I just do it here?” Your brain gets busy trying to figure it out. “Fuck, man, what do I do?”

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, and apparently, it’s loud enough to reach Jiwoo’s ears. “Are you okay, oppa? Do you need anything?” Nervousness is peaking in your head right now and you’re starting to sweat. “Can we talk, baby, please?” Your girlfriend lifts her head off your lap and looks at you nervously. “What do you want to talk about, oppa? Am I in trouble?” You close your eyes and take another deep breath. “First, I’d like to apologize for being so boring like this, but I’m just stumped and don’t know what to do,” you begin, making Jiwoo both nervous and confused.

You get off the sofa and get down on one knee. “Miss Kim Jiwoo,” you fish the small velvet box out of your back pocket, “will you marry me?” She stays silent. Her palm is covering her mouth. Her eyes are as wide as they can be. This isn’t quite the reaction you were hoping for, and as you wonder if you’ve made a bad move, your eyes wander off towards her knees.

“Yes, I will,” is her answer. When your eyes meet with her again, you see that tears are coming out of her eyes in abundance. “I will, oppa—I will marry you,” she repeats. Seeing her cry makes you emotional, and without command, your eyes start releasing tears. “I’m sorry, I should’ve come up with something grander for my proposal,” you say, feeling regretful. She joins you on the floor and hugs you tightly. She assures you that it’s okay and you have nothing to worry about. “It doesn’t take away from your efforts, oppa,” she uses your words against you. Deep inside, however, you promise that you’ll propose again with a grander prelude—Harvey proposed to Yooyeon at The Sapphire, maybe you can replicate that.

Jiwoo lets go of the hug and looks at the ring that’s still sitting in its tiny pedestal in the box. “I-I think you’re supposed to put it on my finger, oppa.” You chuckle. “Sorry, baby. I’m new to all of this,” you crack a little joke, earning a giggle from your girlfriend. You pull the ring out of the box and slide it onto her ring finger on her right hand. “I’m yours forever now, oppa,” she says while turning her hand around to inspect the ring. “This is a beautiful ring, too.” You place your forehead on hers, still unable to calm yourself down and stop the tears. “I love you, Jiwoo-yah. I love you with every cell in my body.” Jiwoo says she loves you more, referring to you as her fiancé.

“Oh, speaking of fiancé,” she says, pulling away from your embrace, “now that we’re really official, I want to go to university again, oppa—you know, get my master’s degree and all that.” You wipe your tears off your face and gather yourself. “O-okay, go—hah—go on.” “Can you, erm, can you pay for that, please?” Obviously, you’re not stopping your fiancé from getting higher education, so without thinking twice, you say yes. “I’m sure it’ll be beneficial for all of us, baby, so go ahead. Let me worry about the tuition,” you add.

In joy, Jiwoo jumps to hug you, and only now are you remembering an important fact. “Happy anniversary, baby.” Your fiancé lets out a chuckle. “I thought you forgot about it, oppa.” “I’m sorry, baby. I’m a freaking mess today,” you say. “Let me help fix that mess.” Jiwoo plants her lips on yours while her hands are fixed on your shoulders, and at this point, you swear that every mess in your heart and mind has been washed away. “Thank you, baby. I needed that so bad,” you thank her for the help. “Can we go to the bedroom, oppa?” “We sure can, baby.” You carry her in your arms and walk towards the bedroom.

“We’re here, baby,” you say as you climb onto the bed, “so, how do you want to cuddle?” Your fiancé frees herself from your arms, shaking her head as she does. “If we’re getting really married, oppa, you need to get better at catching signals,” she says. You look at her wordlessly while she takes her T-shirt off and throws it over her head. “Oh, she wanted to have sex—was I supposed to know that?”

Your attention is shifted towards her when you feel her fingers on the first button of your shirt, stripping you out of your work clothes. “You just proposed to me and agreed to pay for my master’s, and you thought I wanted to just cuddle? Ckckckck, you’re terrible at this,” Jiwoo expresses her disappointment. You want to defend yourself, but you can’t seem to find the words. “Sorry,” is all you can come up with. “No need, it’s not too late to make it right.”

Jiwoo plants her lips on yours again with different intentions this time. “Take me,” she whispers to you, “take me just like you usually do.” “How bad do you want it?” You’ve now gotten yourself together and are in the correct head space for this. She starts humping your thigh, letting you know how wet she is down there. “C-can’t you tell, oppa?” “I think I can,” you giggle, “let’s start, shall we?”

Yes, we shall. You roll until your fiancé is lying on her back, and her beauty instantly catches your attention. “My God, you’re so beautiful, love. Who am I to be so lucky to be with you?” Your words satisfy her, as shown by her precious smile on her face and her soft hands on yours. “Who am I to be so lucky to be engaged to you, oppa?” You ask if you can show her how much you love her. “Show me, oppa, and I’ll do the same,” she says.

You put your lips on her neck, nibbling and sucking until it’s marked with your love. “Oh, yes, please keep going,” Jiwoo eggs you on. “You’re mine, baby, and I’m yours—forever,” you whisper to her, giving her goosebumps. “I’m yours, oppa, and you’re mine,” she replies. “Please take me already—I can’t wait any longer.” You chuckle. “One second, baby; let me finish marking you first.”

You’ve sucked and nibbled for a few more minutes now, and when you pull away to inspect your work, you see a decently sized dark circle on the side of her neck. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.” You straighten your back, and that’s when Jiwoo asks you to “put it in.” Obviously, you know what it means, but it doesn’t hurt to tease her just a tad more. “Put what in, baby?” Your fiancé takes a deep breath, annoyed and impatient. “Your junior,” she says, “put it in me.”

You move towards her legs that are still covered by her mini shorts. When you grab the waistband, Jiwoo places her hands over yours. “Yes, baby?” You ask in case she wants to change her mind.

“Let’s make some promises before we start, oppa.”

“Sure, baby. What is it?”

“Promise me that you’ll pay for my tuition.”

“We’ve talked about it before, but yes, I promise.”

“Promise me that you’ll love me forever and never leave me for anyone else.”

“I promise.”

“Lastly, promise me that you’ll call me love—you know, since we’re getting married.”

“I promise, love.”

“Great,” she smiles, “now we can start.”

With her consent, you pull down her shorts down her legs and past her ankles. Oh, look at that: there’s a big wet spot on her panties—how cute. You free yourself of your work clothes, and while you do that, Jiwoo frees her tits from its constraints. “Respectfully, you look very, very hot, love,” you say, drooling as you do. “And all of me is yours, oppa,” she replies, “my lips, my breasts, my vagina—everything.” “That’s certainly one way to put it,” you think to yourself.

You hold your cock in one hand, and without struggling too much, you ease your way into her warm and wet core. “T-took you long enough,” Jiwoo quips, “oh, yes, that’s good, oppa.” You wrap your arms around her body, and in response, she wraps her limbs around yours, locking you in place to make sure she has maximum physical contact. She proceeds to let out moans right into your ear, showing you how much she’s enjoying this. “I love you, baby—fuck, I love you so much,” you whisper. “W-wrong pet name,” she still has the head space to say such thing.

“I’m about to burst, oppa,” she says, “please—oh, God—please, oppa.” You notice that her embrace is getting loose, so you take advantage of it and straighten your posture, thus allowing you to deliver better thrusts. “Go on, baby,” you urge her, “burst for your fiancé.” Obviously, words aren’t enough; you need to keep up the tempo to be able to send her flying across the finish line.

Jiwoo’s moans become louder as she inches closer towards orgasm—she’s also squirming around. You grit your teeth when you feel her insides squeezing your shaft. “Come on, love; cum for me.” You turn up the pace to the highest you can possibly do while making sure you’re hitting her deepest points. You pull out just in time as she screams from the top of her lungs, her thighs trembling from the hard-hitting orgasm.

Amidst her moans and pants, Jiwoo manages to ask you to hold her, so you do just that, enveloping her with your arms. “That’s good, love,” you praise her, “you’re so good at this.” “Th-thank you,” she replies with heavy breaths. You pamper her with endless sweet words while waiting for her to calm down; among them is, “I love you and will spend the rest of my life with you.” She can’t string together a proper reply just yet, but that’s fine; you’re certain that the message is well received.

Her pants have died down after a few minutes, and when you check on her, you see that she’s fallen asleep. “How cute,” you pinch her cheek lightly, “well, good night, love.” Without letting go, you roll over so that she’s lying square on your body and close your eyes.

-

During your sleep, you’re shown a dream. One where Jiwoo is on her knees while moving her mouth up and down along your length. You put a hand on the back of her head, assisting her in making sure that her hair doesn’t get in the way. “That’s good, love—that’s very good,” a praise freely escapes your lips, just like usual. Your praise excites Jiwoo, making her bob her head faster. Unfortunately for you, you’re starting to lose your grip on the scene, seeing it slowly fade away to be replaced with a different one.

At least that’s what it seemed like was about to happen. Instead, your brain wakes you up. “Wait, I know this feeling,” you say in your head. Your eyes roam downwards as you try to get a grip on the situation around you. “Love? What are you doing?” “What do you mean what am I doing? What does it look like, oppa?” Well, it looks like she’s stroking your cock, kissing your tip occasionally. “I thought you wouldn’t wake up,” she says.

You tell her that you saw her sucking you off in your dream. “I mean, I was sucking you off in your sleep,” she reveals. “So that was a mix of dream and reality, wasn’t it, love?” Jiwoo laughs. “Even in your dream, you can tell that I’m touching you.”

Jiwoo asks you to sit, so you sit and lean against the headrest. She then crawls between your spread legs and takes you deep in her mouth. Just like you did in your dream, you place a hand on the back of her head, petting her gently as you do. “That’s so damn good, love,” a praise freely escapes your lips, just like usual, and as per usual, it excites Jiwoo. You can feel her moving along your shaft faster, pushing through the gag reflex. “Fuck, you’re going to make me bust,” you say the first thing that comes to mind.

You’re ready to send your load straight into her stomach; your cock is throbbing and cum is pooling on your tip, and—ah, fuck, she removes you from her mouth. “No, no, no,” she wiggles her finger in front of you, “you don’t get to cum in my mouth anymore; I’m your fiancé, not your girlfriend.” Your racing heart doesn’t allow you to come up with a reply, but that’s okay with Jiwoo.

She turns her back against you and move backwards until her entrance is hovering right over your tip. “From this point onwards, you can only cum in my pussy—is that understood, my dear fiancé?” “Yes, love, I understand.” Happy with your answer, she lowers herself until you’re fully inside her. “Oh, fuck,” she lets out a gasp, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” She starts fucking herself on your cock, her hands and knees serving as stabilizers. You lean back and admire the way her hourglass figure looks from behind.

“I-I thought you—oh my God—I thought you were close, oppa?” “I am,” you admit, “I’m about to bust any second now.” Hearing such an answer invigorates Jiwoo, giving her the push she needs to keep going until you cum.

With a profanity, you send your load deep inside her, and Jiwoo plants her butt on your crotch so that nothing leaks out. The warmth of your ejaculation makes her let out a very long moan. “Do you want to be a dad?” “No, love, not yet,” you reply between your heavy pants. “Then you’ll need to buy me some pills—we’ve run out of them.” “We’ll get some later before we leave for work, love.”

That’s one question answered, and it’s time to address the other one: how can you prevent her from making a mess on the bed? “Just carry me reversed like this to the bathroom and pull out there,” she suggests. You gather the strength in your legs and stand up. “Hehehe,” you let out a suspicious laugh, “come to think of it, we’ve never had sex while standing up.” “Let’s not—oh, fuck—let’s not get ideas now, oppa; I don’t have the energy for more.”

You arrive at the bedroom with no accident, which means you can now “safely” pull out of her hot core. “Fuck, that’s a lot,” you comment. “That’s just how much you love me,” she giggles, “so what do we do now?” You don’t know what time it is (because there’s no clock in the bathroom, obviously), but you guess that it’s probably best to quickly clean up and go back to sleep soon.

-

You’re back in bed with your fiancé after quickly cleaning up. Jiwoo puts her right hand in the air and inspects the ring (despite the darkness of the room). “When did you buy this, oppa?” You reveal to her that Harvey bought it for you when you went out with him and Yooyeon. Jiwoo bursts out laughing. “I bet you were sweating bullets when you saw me walking in with Soodam-unnie—you thought the surprise was ruined.” “You have no idea, love,” you chuckle, “well, at least it all worked out in the end.”

“I love you, oppa,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere. “I will be the best person I can be for you—for us.”

“Certainly, love. I will be the best person I can be for you as well, because you deserve the best of me.”

“Sounds like we have a good future,” she says, “well, let’s go back to sleep now—good night. I love you.”

“I love you more—way more than simple words can express.”

[rainychaoloveshack]

hiiii i stumbled across ur blog like a couple days ago and. ive been so obsessed with all ur posts theyre so yummy!!! (ESPECIALLY UR BOOM??? ik u mentioned u werent all that familar with him but,,, that one oneshot had me salivating oml)

anyways could i maybe ask for a sonic x reader where they give him a bath bc he's stinky 🤧 just modern/game is fine smile

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic had a nice adventure outside. unfortunately, remnants of said adventure were brought into your home. its bath time.

⋆°•☁︎ content . sonic x gn!reader, fluff, sort of shitpost-esque writing but i still did take it seriously i swear anon

☂︎ wc. 1.1k ☂︎ a/n. hueheh this request had me giggling. silly dirty ass mf 😭😭😭 i was messing around during it huehehe this is your reminder to not take me too seriously sometimes 😋still pretty short but i hope you like it ^^ def not my best work but i hope you like it regardless ^^'

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“You know I can take a simple bath by myself, right?” Sonic growls, watching you kneel down and check the water's temperature for him with your forefinger. Not too hot, not too cold. “Plus, I already took a shower. The dirt’s gone already. No need for a bath, right?” Now why is he acting like that bathtub is going to kill him? 

“Could’ve gotten it all out if you hadn’t pulled me out the shower.” He mutters. “If you had wanted me to take a bath at all, you should’ve said that bef-” You frown, interrupting his rambling by knocking on the side of the bathtub with your fingers in a way that’s telling him to hurry up and get in. You can still smell the mud on him.

And it’s not bad to take precautions. Plus, if the shower didn’t get every single spec of dirt out of his quills, the bath will. Having even one spec of dirt come back inside the house after Sonic’s grand entrance of mud-filled footsteps, and right after you had to clean said mess, might just make you go crazy.

“I already said I was sorry...” He trails off, peering into the tub before taking a step back. You mutter a short curse his way and tug him by his arm, refusing to take no for an answer.

Sonic winces slightly at the volume of the water in the tub but lets out a sigh once he sees your stern expression. “Oh, alright…” He grumbles, spitting out soft curses about his distaste for water as he slips off his gloves, following with his socks right after.

… Paw-beans.

“Hmm?” Sonic’s ear flicks at your small murmuring, turning your way just as he’s about to step into the bath. “You say something?”

You shake your head, trying to make him forget your small slip-up, and urge him into the tub with a small shove. The moment his foot enters the water, you can visibly see a shiver tremble through his body.

“Eugh.” Despite his little complaints, he takes another step in the bubbly water, slowly settling himself into it with unpleasant grumbling, the water reaching up to his chin. “Make it fast. Being submerged in water for too long makes me uneasy…”

Like him? Make it as fast as ‘Sonic speed’, some might say?

His head snaps in your direction, opening his mouth to say something back to your crude teasing, but it closes instantly as you cup water into your hands and pour it over his head, watching it run off his quills and back into the bath.

That shut him up quickly. 

And so it begins.

The water runs down and seeps into his fur, then drips off once it gets too soaked, mixing with the bubbly suds already present. You rub his ear in a slow motion, cupping water up from the bath and pouring it over to get any extra dirt out. So far so surprisingly good; the baths running fairly clear, besides the small bit of dirt or so. Maybe he did get all the dirt out after all? Or maybe it was just his shoes that were the problem? No, then you wouldn’t have seen all those specs of black and brown in his fur. What, did he roll down a hill or-

“Hey, be careful with my quills!” Sonic’s body flinches as you accidentally prod and pull too deeply during your thoughts. “Can’t you be a little more gentle? The bath’s been clear for the past half hour.” He clarifies. “At this point, I’m not sure if you’re still trying to get any dirt out, or if you just like pampering me.”

Oh. Well damn.

Your hand lowers from his head, and it dawns upon you that yes, for once Sonic is actually right about your behavior, and the embarrassment washes over your figure, staggering your motions as you go to unplug the drain, but he stops you with a small kick of his foot at your hand.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Sonic mutters, before putting on his best ‘I deserve the world’ act a spoiled child would have towards everyone else. “I’m actually enjoying the attention!” He puffs his chest out, trying to put on a smug face for you, but a splash of water in his face turns that smugness to irritation, shaking his head around like a dog would their body as water flings in every direction possible. You hold your hands up in front of your face, your soaking wet hands dripping onto your lap and the bathroom floor as you shield yourself from the blue blurs little water assault. Ugh. Looks like he’s getting a kick out of your annoyance.

“It’s not so bad.” Sonic says plainly, flexing his fingers in the water in front of him, before adjusting himself to rest his arms on the tub’s edge, resting his head down to let your preen and run your fingers through his quills, forgetting to scrub through them at all. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you pampered me like this more often.” Sonic reaches over and drags a soggy, wet, finger across your arm, leaving small water droplets on your skin as he moves it up towards your hand, currently resting on your lap as the other one rubs against his shoulder briefly. “Think I deserve it a little, ya’ know?” He shimmies his shoulders a bit, yet his tail wags all the same under the water, eager for your answer, even if you give him a plain ‘no’.

Well, if he could be more aware of himself and clean up after his little escapades, you would. But for now, the punishment bath it is. Though, with the way he was acting at first, someone might’ve thought he was taking a small dunk in acid.

Sonic doesn’t utter a word at your own little joke, but he shakes his head disapprovingly, glaring at you for a few seconds as his eyes flick over you up and down, then he relaxes. “You’re gonna help me dry off after this too, right?” He chirps, and you shake your head, already firm in the belief that you deserve some rest after cleaning up the house. Not to mention the other house chores you’ve already done today.

“Aw man...” Sonic says softly, before growling under his breath in your direction, ears pinning down, obviously in a joking manner, and he flicks some water in your direction off his fingertips, splashing onto your shirt and lap. “You can’t just take me a bath and then chicken out once we’re almost at the finish line! Come on.” Another flick of water comes flying your way, this time hitting you in the face, and you scowl, cupping up some water in your palm to splash it back at him.

“Aw, hey, come on!” His tone of voice makes it sound like a complaint, but his expression is the complete opposite; a fat grin spreads across his muzzle and another small splash of water makes its way to you, soaking your shirt. Oh, so that's how it is?

“What? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Stupid hedgehog. Sometimes it’s a mystery how you haven’t gone crazy by now from all his antics.

… Oh well; time to fetch that towel.

[vngelicc]

𓆩♡𓆪 “wetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie,” — jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — fingering (brief), unprotected sex, creampies, attempted quiet sex, reader’s WAP, messy sex, squirting (mentioned), some dirty talk, possessive!jk, jealous!jk + jennie, jennie makes an appearance woooo, voyeurism on her part, she wants you, sexual tension(?), oc is a dumb puppy: confirmed

You’re just so so pretty… Jennie is utterly in love with you. How could anyone not be? You’re the sweetest thing that’s ever walked this earth; it'd be a crime to not like you. It made Jennie just want to wrap you up in a little cocoon and never let you back out, you were too good for this place (too good for Jungkook too in her humble opinion).

She’s always harbored a tiny crush on you, it never got too serious because she knew you probably didn’t swing that way anyways. There were no hard feelings between the two of you anyways which she was glad for. Jennie however was irked by Jungkook as of lately (when was she not irritated with him though?). More than usual might she say.

The thing was Jungkook had a big mouth, he was shameless and was always letting shit slip from his lips. Jennie despised him for putting images of you, her little cutie pie dummy, in the most vulgar positions known to man all because of his mouth. Up until now she hadn’t really thought about you in that way, even if the walls were a little too thin and she might have heard a thing or two.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you’d say with those cute puppy eyes of yours, “I promise I’ll keep it down!” Jennie knew you’d forget so she didn’t hold you to that.

It all started about a week ago when Jennie had met up with Jisoo and the older girl accidentally let it slip about you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe they talk about our sex lives, I did NOT need to know Jungkook eats ass for fucks sake.” Jisoo spits out in embarrassment, covering her mouth as she tries not to laugh too loudly.

Jennie’s brow quirks up, “He eats ass?” She peers over at Jisoo, “Who the fuck told you that.” She snorts.

“My boyfriend duhh, who else Jennie?” Jisoo shakes her head and rolls her eyes fondly, “He hung out with him like last week and they were talking about shit they’ve done or what they like and don’t like.”

Jennie stops listening once Jisoo starts complaining about Yugyeom spilling the beans. She looks down at the ground while they walk, zoning out and getting lost in her thoughts. Her not so holy thoughts at that.. Now she can’t stop thinking about how you’ve probably gotten your ass ate.

(It’s what you deserve of course. Jennie’s surprised her mouth waters a little at the thought.)

Since then Jennie starts noticing a lot more things she once didn’t think were sexual or shit she just flat out ignored like your unabashed nudity and silly little shows of affection with her. It makes her realize what a little minx you are, and the very painful fact that she’s attracted to you more than ever.

“Jennieeeee!” You happily whine and throw your arms around the girl, “Are you proud of me I made dinner for us.” You rub your cheek against her own and pout at her, “I didn’t forget to push down the lever on the toaster this time either!”

Jennie hesitantly slides her hands around your (soft?) hips, resting them right there as she balances herself because she’s got an arm full of you. “Really? That’s good y/n,” she squeezes your cheek and smiles. Jennie gets an eye full of tits right in her face she literally has to force her eyes away as she grimaces.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head, eyes full of wonder and lips still set into a small pout.

Jennie shakes her head, “Nothing, just hungry.”

“Let’s eat!”

Things get worse when Jennie comes home one night late from work, she had seen Jungkook’s car parked out in the front and she dreaded his presence already. “I’m home.” She calls out while unlocking the door, not wanting her entrance to be a surprise just in case you two were getting busy.

“Hi,” you turn your head and send her a soft smile, “you okay? I left some take out in the microwave for you.” You turn back around and lay your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder again. Jungkook’s busy still watching the movie so he waves his hand in acknowledgement.

Jennie rolls her eyes and passes by, but not before smacking the back of Jungkook’s head, “I thought I told your ass to stop parking your car so near the fucking line. I can’t even get out of my own damn car.”

“Fuck off no I didn’t,” Jungkook laughs, “you fuckin’ liar always trying to hate on me for no reason.” He says and throws a balled up napkin at Jennie who yells ‘Hey bitch!’ in surprise, “y/n tell her something, she’s being mean to me.” Jungkook buries his face in your face and leaves small kisses there.

Before Jennie can make a face of disgust you turn to her with that pretty face of yours, “Jen, I already told you that it’s not nice being a meanie. You pinky promised me you were going to be nicer.” It’s sickening how gagged you have her.

Jennie surprisingly lets it go and heads over to sit down on the opposite couch. She grumbles in annoyance and tosses a dirty look at Jungkook, who’s smug as a motherfucker right now. Her eyes lower down to your smooth pretty thighs, not a hair in sight (must have waxed..) You’re wearing a pair of pink sailor moon socks and from this angle she catches a glimpse of your panties which are completely lace..

You’re curled up on Jungkook’s side, tucked away and hidden by both his big ass and then the oversized shirt you assume belongs to him (given the lack of clothes on his ass). The collar is slightly disheveled and pulled down off to the side, exposing your hickey covered neck looking like he mauled you. Jungkook looks so nonchalant as he rubs your thigh with his hand, squeezing and gripping the soft looking flesh.

Jennie hates to admit but you two look so fucking hot together. Now she sees why people think you two make a fit couple, you make everyone else look like shit. She ends up sulking even more in her seat and decides to watch the movie instead or else she’s going to be more annoyed at him.

Half way through the movie Jennie hears you yawn softly and that’s when it’s Jungkook’s cue to move. He picks you up like nothing and starts to head out to your room. “Night Jennie.” You softly whisper, “I’ll see you tomorrow ‘kay?” You smack your lips together as you smile sleepily at her.

Jennie waves, “Night.” She decides to stick it out and watch the rest of the movie alone.

She doesn’t exactly count on falling asleep then and there, only waking up when the tv’s light blares in her face with the stupid “Still watching?” screen displayed. “Fuck what time is it?” She whispers to herself and grabs her phone, hissing at the brightness and closing her bleary eyes, “Three?” She grunts and rolls off the couch.

Jennie turns the TV off and heads down the hall to her room, blinking the blurriness in her vision away. She sees your door cracked open and makes a mental note to shut it for you after she finishes using the restroom. It’s when she’s washing her hands that she hears…it. She frowns in confusion and stops for a moment, hearing a rhythmic thudding noise against the walls.

“What the fuck..” Jennie whispers and dries off her hands, stopping for a few seconds as the sounds continue. “So I’m not trippin’.” She concludes and steps out quietly.

The noise is more clear when she steps out into the hallway and Jennie already knows what the hell you two are up to. It pisses her off more that the door is left open and now she has to fucking sneak into her room without being spotted. Just her luck honestly.

+

“Mm..mmm..” Moans slip past your lips as Jungkook’s hands hold your waist steady while fucks into your wet cunt over and over again. He’s not completely bottoming out to avoid making any unnecessary noises like your skin smacking against each other etc.

Jungkook’s eyes are settled down on your bouncing and jiggling tits, your nipples are perked up begging to be sucked on. He told you that you both needed to keep quiet but honestly it’s getting a bit harder with how good you wrap around his cock. Your cunt’s so fucking creamy dollops of slick coat his cock and form a ring around the base, which disappears everytime he slips back in to your dewy little pussy.

“Shit baby,” he grunts under his breath, “ ‘member we gotta keep quiet?” He bites down on his bottom lip and resists the urge to fuck into you harder.

You mewl softly in return and reach up to grip the pillow you’re laying on, “..trying,” you weakly huff, “just feels so good.” Your eyes are hazy and your speech comes out a little slurred, Jungkook already knows you’re about to start drooling at this point.

“Be a good girl for me.” He moans quietly and grips your chin tightly, pressing your cheeks together and making your pouty lips pucker up for him. “I know you can.” He whispers as his eyes drop down to where you’re both connected, a string of creamy slick already coats his pelvis and he curses at how much wetter you just got.

You gasp quietly and arch your back when his cock strikes your g-spot, perfectly rubbing up against it with his coordinated thrusts. You greedily roll your hips up into his and gurgle on your moans. “More,” you slur out, “wan’ more Jungkookie.”

He moans a little too loud as his hips stutter in their movements, he finds himself pressing in and rotating his hips in small circles. You’re just too fucking sexy for your own good, had his poor cock throbbing and everything. As Jungkook grinds in deeply, he listens to the sounds your cunt makes. It’s like macaroni in a pot.

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna make me cum baby.” Jungkook’s mouth falls open in a silent moan as he shudders, “Soaked lil’ pussy makin’ a mess on my cock, you gonna clean it for me?” He gasps quietly.

You nod eagerly and whimper for more, “C-Cum, cum in me.” You whisper out as your hand travels down, fingers parting in a ‘V’ right where his cock slides in and out. “P-Promise I’ve been good..!” You moan out, “Been the best girl for you.”

He loses it when your little fingers slide against his shaft everytime he backstrokes and then pushes back in. His balls ache and he fucks into you for a couple more seconds until he’s coming and filling your pussy to the brim. “Shit,” he releases a long sigh as he pants quietly and looks down, “fuckin’ hell.” Jungkook bites his lip and muffles his moan as he slowly slips his sensitive cock out of you with a wet plop.

You happily curl your legs towards you, hands coming under your thighs to hold them up so not a drop of cum is wasted. “Did good?” You sleepily ask.

“Perfect.” Jungkook licks his lips and leans up to kiss you as he trails a hand down to your slicked up pussy, fingers dipping into the mess you created down there. He intends on getting you messier, good thing you have all night long.

+

Jennie doesn’t sleep at all after that night. She remembers lying awake in bed as images flashed through her brain like a sequence. She thinks about your messy thighs and how your pussy stretched around Jungkook’s cock. Needless to say she went to bed uncomfortably hot down there and a pair of wet panties.

She doesn’t look neither you nor Jungkook in the eye the next day when she goes to get breakfast. You’re as clueless as ever but something about Jungkook’s dark eyes having this knowing look in them tells her he did that shit on purpose. She chooses to ignore it and continue like nothing happened. Maybe it was time she took Lisa up on that offer on being fuck buddies.

A couple of days later Jungkook breaks the ice between them two. Jennie had been home early from classes when a knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. She opened up and came face to face with Jungkook, “What do you want?” She deadpans, even though her actions say another thing as she steps to the side for him to enter.

“If you’re here for y/n she ain’t here, though I’m sure you don’t need my help in finding her since you’re always with her and shit.” Jennie waves her hand as she walks off without looking back at him, “Don’t fuckin’ make a mess or touch my shit.” She fully intends to go to her room but Jungkook calls out to her.

“Enjoyed the show last week?” Jungkook calmly replies.

Jennie stops in her tracks, “What show? You mean the movie we watched together?” She turns around and eyes him in distaste.

“You know what I’m talking about you little pervert.” Jungkook smirks, “I’m not fucking blind to the way you’ve been looking at my girl, and it’s not like I didn’t hear you go into the bathroom and just never go to your room after that.”

Her face heats up in embarrassment as she glares at Jungkook, “Fuck off Jungkook.”

“No really, did you enjoy watching her squirt all over my fingers and soaking the bed sheets? I bet you really wanted a taste of her creamy lil’ pussy. Bet you thought about how tight she’d feel around your fingers, makes you wanna have a taste for yourself don’t it?” He grins.

Jennie’s mind screams yes and for a second she nearly gives in and confesses. However, she’s just as prideful as she is horny, “The day I fuck her Jeon is the day you’ll be wishing you never spoke about it. Because just like that she’ll be playing for both teams when I’m through with her.” She watches his face fall and turn into something more serious, like he’s feeling threatened, “They always wanna come but they never wanna leave.” She winks and heads into her room.

.

“J-Jungkook..!” You cry out, voice high pitched and breathy as an even louder squelching noise resonates in the background.

He’s got his fingers knuckle deep inside of your slicked up pussy, thrusting them in and out at a mad pace. It’s so quick that your squirting out bits of slick whilst he fucks you with his fingers. Jungkook’s hell bent on getting you to cum for him, he looks pissed off and you can’t help but wonder why.

“Mmmm..!” You squeal out and shake under him, “S-Slow down Jungkookie,” you whimper out, “ ‘s too much!”

Jungkook does the complete opposite of what you asked and only speeds up, “Pussy’s all mine isn’t it baby? Say it for me, whose pussy is this?” He curls his fingers and searches for your g-spot, intending to abuse it.

You throw your head back and scramble to grip his wrist tightly, “Yours! It’s yours,” you sob out, “p-please..!” You feel tears well up in your eyes, “Jungkookie!”

“That’s right, all fuckin’ mine baby,” he growls and leans down to bury his face in your thighs, “all mine.” He repeats and takes your throbbing clit into his mouth.

You literally die and go to heaven. (And Jennie sits smug in her room because she’s the reason for your passing.)

TAGLIST: TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt

[letsbangchanblog]

NSFW ABCs for BANG CHAN

Mature Content!!! MINORS DO NOT ENTER!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is an angel after sex. It doesn't matter if you were making love or fucking. He has a water bottle and a towel prepared. He needs to feel the rest out. He will check to see if you are still in a subspace etc. He knows what to do for it all; he has the signs memorized (maybe on a flash drive so he can read it and jerk off….. yes he loves reading smut himself) 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He LOVES his arms. He has clearly been working on them and he sees the effects from you.  He will flex them just for fun like “oh no this book is so heavy *flex*”

Will not say any part of you is better than the rest. He would say personality and refuse to continue. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Messy messy boy. It almost seems fake how much he cums. Like how can one produce so much. He hates it even if you say it's sexy. He gets very bashful about it even when he is (trying to, he breaks character a lot) hard dominating you.  

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants it all with you.  He is a very shy guy about this kind of stuff but somehow it's easier with you.  He doesn't have the heart to share most of the time tho. He will spill the beans while blushing with bright red ears. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Honestly, I don't think he has much. I think this is why he's so shy about flirting and sexual things. He definitely hasn't done more than vanilla activities before you. You are his first with BDSM. He is a switch but leans more subby. He is a natural born sub but will be a dom (the sub always finds a way to leak out). 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 anything with you riding him. 

He loves dominating you cause you love it BUT he's a slut for someone to dom him. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) 

He is giggly sometimes but not from it being humorous. 

He would enjoy natural humor during sex but won't make anything funny on purpose. Not a fan of an intimate activity being unserious. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trimmed. It's literally a work of art. He will make shapes sometimes. For your anniversary, he made his pubes a heart shaped. He thought it was romantic but it was honestly hot as fuck he tried so hard. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very romantic. No matter how hard you go, he will tell you he loves you and you're beautiful. While the next sentence is complete filth even when you are domming him. He has a filthy mouth and it just spills out. He doesn't think before saying anything. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He will but it's not common. If he doesn't have time to fuck you, he would rather build up his desire. He thinks of it as naturally edging himself. If it's too strong and he's far away, smut it is. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lovesssssss sexxtinnngggg 

His imagination is so good and he gets off on imagining dirty things more than seeing them. (Unless it's possible to have you, then he wants that) He will flirt nonstop. 

BUT ALSO

Master/Sir Kink. I think he would cringe at daddy like it's not bad but it's not good. Call him sir and he's hard as a rock. Call him sir while topping him, cardiac arrest. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He will only do it on a bed. He would be too worried about your neck or back. I really doubt you can convince him otherwise unless its on a pallet of blankets on the floor. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Cumming while feeling loved. For himself and you.  

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Would not do anything in public; he would get so nervous. He also wont hurt you. It would take him a longggggg time to even think about slapping you. He will only choke you because of how much he hears about it, not actually interest. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

King of eating pussy.. he does this thing where he will lick then blow so there is a coolness to it. He has a huge thing for temperature play. 

He is always so proud when you give him head. You don't even have to be good at it. The fact is that his lover wants his dick in their mouth, how could that be done wrong? 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It's whatever feels right at the moment. He is usually very sensual but can become a jack rabbit. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really interested sadly. He wouldn't understand why plus there is no bed????? Like how 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only risky in private. He would be willing to experiment. He would do a lot of it before suggesting pegging. He thinks you won't catch on. He has been waiting for it. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Reads the room. He can go for as long as needed but prefers to last a long time (he gets shy about cumming, don't you remember)  

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Loves them. He wants them all. It's not even a need to use them but to have options. You never know when you would want to try something and not have the supplies. LIKE A STRAP ON

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is one to actually get mad if it's unfair or too much of a tease. Like why are we even fucking then mad.. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

VERY LOUD OMFG LIKE BOY SHHHHHHHH (or Dont 💅) 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to wear a maids outfit for you but will literally never tell you… you decide if you would ask or not… But he does have one in his size FOR OPTIONSSSS

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Prettiest dick the world has ever seen. It should be in a museum. It's low key huge… like petite girls, good fucking luck.. wider girls… this is your time to finally experience cock training 🫡 good luck 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is horny everyday. 7pm in Korea is horny happy hour (this is how you learn he reads smut). 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Baby can't sleep normally and not even fucking you hard knocks his ass out… 😤 😒

[mockerycrow]

Congrats on 4k! Saw the post I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic? So with Dad!John Price + teen!reader with the prompt “I just wanted to be like you” with reader tell price that they’re thinking about join the military and with price being like “absolutely NOT.”

Take your time if needed!

-🫠

DIFFERENT PATH (Dad!Price x Teen!GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Dark thoughts, angst, price is a good dad but he needs to control his tempter, you butt heads and you’re both stubborn asses.]

YOU HAVE BEEN uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table, John notes in his head. You’re a bit closed in on yourself as you actually eat your food instead of talk your head off like usual. He notes the way you keep your eyes lowered, your shoulders hunched; alarm bells are going off in his head because he isn’t sure if something happened, because you aren’t telling him anything.

You have been like this since school—you’re usually eager to hang around John since he’s usually away off somewhere in a different country, leaving you with a family friend for a couple of weeks or months at a time. This time? You came home, gave John a quick hug, a quiet “hi”, and you were in your room until he called you for dinner. He did not bother you once you shut your door—if you need space, he wasn’t going to deprive you of that. John knows he needed his space after coming home from school when he was younger.

“So,” John hums, a green bean in his mouth. He quickly chews, swallows, and takes a sip of his ice water before continuing. “How was school?” There’s a moment where your eyes actually flicker to him for the first time all night before they flicker back down to your plate, moving your food around with a fork; you shrug. John let’s out a sigh and tilts his head. “Words, kiddo.”

“It was fine.” You respond, your tone neutral. John notices the way you aren’t eating much, every few minutes is a few bites. You’re either scarfing it down, or you don’t eat it at all because you can’t stop talking. “Fine?” He questions, wiping his mouth with his napkin. You nod in response, knowing he’s trying to pry more information out of you. “Can I go to my room?” You ask, your jaw tight.

John pauses for a moment, a knot in his stomach forming. “Yes, you can.” He responds after hesitating for a few seconds. A heavy sigh leaves him as he watches you spring into action, grabbing your plate and bringing it to the kitchen before jogging up the stairs to where your room is. John knew this would eventually happen, something running across in his path of parenting where you wouldn’t want to tell him about something.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve taped your mouth shut about something, but as you’ve grown to be more independent—you’ve been very independent as he’s been away a lot—he fears the worst. John just hopes you would trust him enough to tell him about something bad happening; even if you were involved and there was drugs or something else, he wants you to trust him. John wants you to know that no matter what, he would love you. Nothing would change that.

“Goddammit.” John mutters, cleaning up the table, grabbing his now empty plate and dirty dishes. He brings them to the kitchen and washes off his plate before sticking it in the dish washer with the utensils, spotting your barely touched food. John puts his hands on the counter and leans against them, slipping back into thought once more. Maybe it was time to talk to you about how he would still love you, even if you were involved in some bad shit? Is that the correct move?

John hates it—being on his own as a father. Your mother has never really been in the picture and you’ve luckily never taken an interest in knowing her, so he’s ruled the possibility of your mother coming back into contact. John doesn’t want to think about the other possibilities; the other stuff that could suggest a reason for this clammy reaction.

No, he decides, if you need something, you will come to him unless he deems it necessary to properly intervene. John puts plastic wrap over your plate and puts it on a shelf in the fridge before he retreats to his office. He keeps his door cracked for you in case you decide to change your mind—he knows something is up—and he grabs a book, sitting down in his office chair. John blinks at the book in his hands before flipping open to where he left his bookmark.

You come downstairs an hour or two after dinner was served. John was only half processing his book, rereading the same sentence at least four different times when you knock on the cracked door. John blinks and looks up from his book, quickly putting the bookmark between the pages and shutting the cover. “Come in.”You open the door with a nervous look, your hands fidgeting. The cat quickly runs into the office with a soft “mrr” as you walk closer to his desk. John holds his breath for a moment as you approach. “What’s goin’ on, kiddo?” John asks softly.

You sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk with your hands in your lap. You glance at his face a couple of times before you groan and rub your face. You look back at him, your eyebrows furrowed. “Look, I know we talked about this before, but..” You trail off for a moment, looking to him for some sort of guidance. John gestures for you to continue with, “We’ve talked about a lot of things, love. Go on.”

You press your lips together before you utter something that makes John’s heart drop. “I was approached by a recruiter in P.E. class today.” John shakes his head quickly. “Absolutely not.” He says harshly, crossing his arms. “You already know my answer, I’m not signing anything.” You groan loudly and lean back in your chair. “Come on, Dad! This is truly what I want to do in life, I—“

“It’s a hard NO. Do you hear me?” John hisses, looking at you. It’s almost like he’s speaking to one of his men when they messed up. “You do not want to be in my line of work. You have no bloody idea what actually goes on.” You and your dad have had this kind of conversation before; back when you were fourteen. John had just assumed you were just getting more attached to him—since you were twelve, he’s been able to go on leave to be with you more often than he had been able to before. John just assumed it was sudden attachment due to the (family friendly) stories he had shared.

But no, even two years later, you’re still insistent on what you want to do. “Dad, please, just listen t’me—“

“My answer is and always will be no. You have no fuckin’ idea what happens out there, kid. It’s nothin’ like the games I’ve gotten you, you hear me? It’s nothin’ like the shows or the movies you begged me to buy you!” John snaps, his tone borderline vicious. You flinch at his tone, your heart dropping to your stomach. Your avert your eyes; John has never spoken to you like that before. You try to hold back the tears, but your gut is tight, throat burning as well as your eyes.

“I just..” You mumble. “I just wanted to be like you, Dad.”

John blinks, your shaky tone bringing him out of his protective rage. Guilt swirls in his chest, dripping down to his gut and settling uneasily. “Fuck, I—“ He stutters for a moment before taking in a breath in to gain his composure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to snap at you like that, that’s completely on me.” John says with a much gentler tone than before, guilt lacing every word. Your gaze sticks to his desk instead of his face as you shrug, your eyes burning.

“That’s not okay for me to do, kiddos I just..” John lets out a heavy sigh. “You know I’ve been in the military my entire life; it’s not pretty. It’s not like the films you see, alright? I’ve seen.. many, many men and women be torn apart by bullets, blown up by explosives—hell, you know the nasty scar on my left side? I walked into an explosive rigged room when you were three years old, darlin’.”

That causes you to pick up your head and look at him with wide eyes, the tears brimming your eyelids. You blink, a tear quickly falling down your cheek. John has a guilty yet solemn expression, his eyebrows furrowed together; likes yours do when you’re also upset or thinking too hard about something. “Nearly cost me my life, kid. Nearly cost you your dad.” John says the last part quieter. He watches the way your eyes dart around as you process this information, your lips parting after a moment.

“Look.. I..” You trail off for a moment, your fingers licking at the seams of your pants. “I still.. I still want to, I just..” You pause. “I don’t see myself doing anything else, dad.”John closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. “You still have a year or two, I just.. I can’t sign anything for you, kid. If you die, I just—“

“—whAt if you die, dad?? You just admitted to me a risk you took and you’re still in the military despite having a kid!” You suddenly burst, your voice breaking. John blinks at you in surprise before folding his hands together in his lap, leaning back in his office chair with a quiet squeak of the bolts. “Why is it so different if I went in??”

John looks at you, at your passion and your frustration. “Because you haven’t been tainted by this life, love. You’ll never look at anything the same.” You give him a hard stare, the sadness turning into anger. “And if I said I’m ready for that?” A beat passes. “I’m not signing anythin’. But once you’re a legal adult, I can’t stop you.” You press your lips together; that’s one of the many things you and your father have in common. You’re both incredibly stubborn and won’t back down, and maybe you both bend and break the rules a bit. “I can wait.”

[borathae]

“Yoongi joins you in your bath and you talk about your days.” 

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader 

Genre: established relationship!AU, Fluff 

Warnings: casual & intimate nudity, Yoongi being the cutest bean in love 

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: I lose a lil bit of my sanity each time I write fluff. I can handle anything, but fluff always ruins me 😔 i love them so much 😔

You spent the day working in the gardens. It was a very rewarding day and left you feeling utterly content.

Content, but also very exhausted and very dirty. So you hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off and while you did, let the bathtub fill with the hottest water. You used  some of the lavender oil you made with your flowers and then lit some candles to set the mood. Ten minutes later, you were boiling in your little lavender soup, getting rid of all the tension in your muscles.

It is another ten minutes later when a faint knock on your door rips you out of your relaxation.

“Yes?”

“It’s me”, Yoongi says.

“It’s open.”

The door opens and in steps Yoongi. 

“Oh? Sorry”, he gasps, turning around, “why didn’t you say something?”

“Why are you turning away? You’ve seen me naked a million times before.”

“I don’t know, just don’t wanna be rude.”

You laugh, “you’re so weird”, you chuckle, “what’s up? Do you need help with something?” 

“No it was…no it’s fine, it was dumb”, he dismisses you. 

“No, it’s okay. Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, I’m dumb, just wanted to ask for, you know…”, he lowers his voice to a whisper, making it unable to understand him. 

“I didn’t get the last part.”

“I just wanted to…”

“Yoongi, you are talking too quietly. I can’t understand you.”

Yoongi whips around, “I just wanted to ask for cuddles!” he blurts out and pouts, “it’s dumb, okay?” he adds in a shy mumble and his eyes flitting to his feet.

“Aww my love, it’s not dumb. You’re so cute”, you coo, resting your chin on the edge of the bathtub, “do you wanna hop in here? The water’s so nice.”

He rubs his tummy, inspecting you with his head tilted to the side. 

“Mhm?”

“I guess”, he mumbles, “if you’re asking.”

“Yeah? That’s so awesome. Hop on in here then.”

“Look away.”

“I’m even closing my eyes. See?” you say, closing your eyes with a faint smile on your lips.

You listen to him get undressed. Silence follows where he walks to you. You are aware that his nature helps him stay quiet. A soft knock against the tub makes you open your eyes. 

Yoongi is looking down at you with his hands gripping the edge of the bathtub and one leg pulled up. 

“Don’t look”, he whines.

“I’m not, I’m looking at your eyes.”

He mumbles something, which is most definitely a shy complaint. Then he finally steps inside. 

“Oh geez", he gasps, lowering himself slowly, "what the fuck’s wrong with you? Why would you wanna boil yourself like that?”

“What do you mean? It’s not even that hot”, you say in a laugh. 

He lowers his butt into the water and tenses up.

“Yes it is”, he complains, “you’re gonna get cooked ballsack for dinner, like fuck.”

He cracks you up to the point where you snort ungracefully. In the time you spend laughing your ass off, Yoongi lowers his own ass into the water, submerging himself in the lavender warmth. 

“Don’t laugh”, he nudges you with his foot, “if I knew Imma get boiled, I’d have declined.”

“Oh you dramatic baby”, you snicker, closing the distance between you and him, “and yet here you are. You just like to complain”, you say, cupping his cheeks even if your hands are wet. 

Yoongi doesn’t mind, leaning into your touch.

“I guess. I’m getting used to it”, he smiles boyishly, “and I thought that I take hot baths.”

“You gotta admit though, once you’re used to it, it feels amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Relaxing. That’s nice.”

“Yeah right? And your ballsack isn’t boiled either, is it?” you tease.

Yoongi snorts and chuckles. 

“No, it’s good. It just expanded twice its size.”

“Oh you”, you laugh. Yoongi does too. “Don’t talk like this, it’s nasty.”

“Why? It’s natural”, he laughs. 

“I guess, but it’s so weird", you tease.

“You regularly tell me about your shits. I don’t ask for these kinda updates either, but you tell me”, he throws back, making you laugh.

“I guess, yeah”, you snicker and then lean in to peck his cheek, “you’re wonderful.”

Yoongi leans in for another kiss. One you give him gladly. He returns the favour afterwards. Two kisses on each cheek. He ends all of them with a soft kissing sound. It borders the sound of “mwuah”, just shorter and tinier. It feels so good to receive.

“Did you scrub yourself already?” he asks afterwards, massaging your waist gently.

“Yeah in the shower. I took a shower to wash off the day. I wanted the bath to be solely for relaxation.”

“Mhm, I see. That’s good.”

“Why? Did you wanna scrub me?”

“No, it’s fine. Just thought you needed help.”

“You can still touch me, you know? I like it when you do.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. Your touch is gentle and loving. I stopped being touch starved because of you.” 

Yoongi lowers his eyes shyly.

“Me too”, he confesses, “yeah. Your touch is nice too. I like it. It feels good. Yeah.”

“Yeah? Should we touch each other, my love?” you suggest.

He nods his head and opens his arms, scooting closer. You understand. You close the distance and allow your bodies to connect in an intimate hug. No barriers of clothing between your skins, hot water to warm you up and the relaxing scent of lavender in your noses. The hug feels especially wonderful like this.

Yoongi hides his nose in your neck while you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. His arms cradle you just as much as yours cradle him. Your middles are touching, your chests are melted together and your legs are never breaking contact. It’s so utterly vulnerable and yet healing. To be able to hold him like this is medicine to your heart. You don’t even need to be sad for him to heal you. His hug is so powerful that it will heal even the parts which were never broken. 

“This is so nice”, you whisper, having your eyes closed. 

“Yeah”, he sighs, enjoying your hug with closed eyes.

“Did you have a good day, my love?” 

“It was okay”, he says.

“Yeah? Did you manage to finish the song?” 

“Not yet. I got stuck on the bridge. I don’t know what to do. So I stopped and did something else.”

“Mhm I see. I bet you’ll get it soon.”

“I guess. Can you help me with it tomorrow? Can you listen to it?”

“Of course my love, I’d love to do that”, you say, rubbing circles into his back, “can you help me with the garden? I need to carry the palm trees to the terrace, but they’re too heavy.”

“Of course, I’ll help”, he says, drawing senseless patterns on your back. 

“Thank you, my prince.”

“It’s fine yeah”, he says and nods his head. Then he nuzzles closer, kissing your neck gently, “you smell so good.”

“It’s the lavender oil.”

“No, not the oil. You smell nice. Happy.”

“I am happy”, you say, “and you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m happy too”, he says. 

You shimmy back so you can look at him, but he whines and pulls you back. 

“Don’t do that, it makes me sad.”

You snicker, “forgive me for wanting to kiss you.”

“You can do that later. I wanna hug.”

“Okay, fine. I can very gladly live with this deal.” 

“Good. I wouldn’t have let you leave either way.” 

You laugh, “oh wow okay, I see how it is.”

He snickers and nods his head, kissing your neck afterwards. 

“My love?” he whispers.

“Yes, my love?”

“Can I keep going?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I keep kissing your neck?”

“Of course you can. You don’t have to ask.”

“Okay. Mhm, you’re so perfect”, he whispers and begins kissing you, purring quietly as he does. 

You watch a movie once you finish the bath, relaxing on the couch with cups of tea and your bodies snuggled close. Yoongi falls asleep with his head on your chest, but denies it once you wake him up. Then later in bed you kiss his face until he falls asleep and you follow him seconds later.

[misguidedasgardian]

Blurred Lines (1)

1. One foot in

MASTERLIST

Summary: You try to adapt to your new life as a separate woman, with a bit of help of a surprising person

Warnings:  Cursing, cheating, adultery, talks about body shaming, therapy, Harwin is a c*nt, for reals, misogynistic beliefs, body shaming, again, Harwin is not a good person on this… and Jace isn’t either, tampering with birth control, spy cameras, panty stealing, a bit creepiness

Wordcount: 3.9 k

Notes: Alright let's get this party started. This won’t be long, I’m thinking of three big chapters. I’ve never written a kid before… hahaha or I have but not this much…

It had been two of the hardest weeks of your life

You felt so lonely, meaning, Harwin was barely there as it is, but he came home every night, and he was the kind of man that make himself present by making you need him, that being him to open the pickle jar, change light bulbs or even anything, he was there, his looming presence, and now, you were alone with your daughter, if something happened…

You were on your own

Despite him calling you every hour, even at lunch break at his company, maybe to prove to you he wasn’t screwing his secretary, was it true that he wasn’t speaking to her? did you care?

You juggled Aerea in one of your arms as she giggled, and with other you tried to grab your keys from your pockets as you had hanging from your limb all the bags from the grocery store

As you entered, all your instincts made you jump as you draw a shirtless man standing right there in the middle of the Kitchen

“Ah!”, you let out a shriek as Aerea giggled again, clearly amused, and the men soon turn to someone familiar, Jace turned to meet you, running to your aid

“Jace, you scare me!”, you accused, as he grabbed Aerea from your arms, and the bags from the other

“Sorry I…”, he chuckled, “I’m an idiot it was hot outside and you had said I could use the pool, you gave me a key, I called my father, he said he was going to give you a heads up

Oh so that is why he was calling so intensely 

You had decided today that you wouldn’t answer

“Sorry about that, I was at the store, hands full”, you finally looked at him and you found him staring, as he grabbed Aerea, the muscles of his arms flexed, they were thick, his torso… wel… he had clearly taken to the gym, you shook your head as you started to put the things you bought in their place in the fridge 

“Sorry to have barged in, I will call you next time”, he said with a shy smile, 

“No, no, this is your father’s house, you can come any time, really”, you said quickly 

“I might take you up on that”, he said with smirk, Aerea played with his dark curls as she giggled, happy in her big brother’s arms

“You are so good with her, she adores you”, you teased, now putting away things in the tallest cupboards

Jace went to the living room to place his sister on the ground next to her box of toys, and he came back quickly, he pressed himself to you as he placed a can of beans where you couldn’t reach, just as you were trying to do

He was so close you could feel his body heat

“Let me help you with that” he growled 

“It’s ok”, you said, trying to get in the tip of your toes

“I got it”, you lost balance, and you found no better sustenance than the half naked young man standing next to you.

He chuckled darkly, as he placed the can where it belonged, he placed one of his big hands on your lower back

“Thanks”, you smiled, “you are missing the best hours of sun Jace, you should go enjoy the pool”

“Very well”, he said with a smile, and walked away to the patio. You kept putting away groceries while you saw Aerea play with her big magnetic pieces 

And as you were watching your daughter, Jace appeared in your line of vision, he had stared cleaning the pool

You didn't use it much. you didn’t felt comfortable in a bikini any longer, so it was a bit dirty, with leaves and all

His toned body under the sun, his thick arms as he concentrated on taking all the filthy out of the water.

Were you really just checking him out?

No, you were just admiring him 

Whomever he was interested in, he or she was very lucky, he was a handsome man.

You grabbed Aerea, who was getting fuzzy, and put her down for a short nap, and when you returned to the living room, you could tell it was getting very hot outside, so you grabbed a beer, and went and offered to him who was now finishing up the pool 

“Oh you are too kind”, he said with a wide smile

“Thank you for cleaning the pool, you didn’t have to do that”, you said apologetically

“No it’s fine, I want to use it, I should be the one to clean it, I couldn’t help but notice the grass needs a little trim too..”, he said, taking a sip of the bottle

“You definitely don’t have to THAT”, you said

“I know, I want to”, he said

“Well, I just going to let myself get pampered, I’m not gonna’ pretend any longer”, you giggled 

“Well, It's the least I could do…”, he said, and you stopped giggling suddenly, looking at him wide-eyed, he saw he had committed a “mistake”, “oh…”

“Harwin spoke to you I gather” 

“He did, he told me you two were splitting up”, he whispered, looking at you with pity in his eyes, you took a step back from him and faked a smile, “I just wanted to check up on you”, he confessed

“Well, you don’t have to do that Jace”

“I know”, he said quickly, “you are a magnificent woman, Strong…”, and he chuckled at his own play of words, “but everybody needs help”, he said, “In fact, I need some”, he deviated the conversation, smart

“What kind of help Jace?”, you asked, deciding to focus on that part of the conversation

“Give me a safe haven from my home, and I’ll help you around the house”, he offered

“I don’t know if I should be shielding you from your mother”, you said with a shy smile

“She is freaking out because my friend Cregan and I invested in a new business which I’m working on remotely, she doesn’t believe it’s head start, but we have faith in it, i have to put on the hours so it does work, I need a good internet connection, and I’ll help you around the house, what do you say?”, he offered. You didn't quite know what to say

“I really don’t want issues with Rhaenyra, she is going to think I’m hiding you here or something”

“She won’t”, he said

“Promise me Jace”, you demanded

“I promise, my mother doesn’t even need to know”, he said

“That is not what I meant!”, you said with an amused smile

“I know I know”, he laughed, “Please, I know you studied this, you could help me”

“Alright”, you relented

“Now… where’s that weedwacker”, he asked raising his eyebrows

“On the garage”, you responded

“On it”

“Enjoy the sun Jacey, Aerea is sleeping”, you said softly

“Can you put sunblock on my back?”, he asked,  teasingly, “you wouldn’t want me to burn on your watch wouldn’t you?”

“Very funny”, you didn't think anything of it, you put the cream in your hands and then you did a quick work of his broad back 

Oh if you could only see how hard you got him, he covered his lap with a towel, he couldn’t show his cards, not right now

“Thanks”, he said as you finished his lower back

“Of course Jacey, I wouldn’t want you to burn up”, you said softly

“Why don’t you join me?”, he asked looking back at you, “when Aerea wakes, it’s going to be safe enough to bring her out here too”

“I don’t think is such a good idea”, you said lightly, “I have things to do inside, ta-taxes and some-”, you got up pretty quickly, not wanting to explain why you wouldn't want to put a bikini on

You started lunch, you guessed Jacey was staying, anyways, you were accustomed to make large portions.

You phone started ringing, it was Harwin, he had gotten himself an apartment downtown near his office, he has renting, it was very small which make you feel guilty when he had to have the kids, but right now, yesterday was the day the children went back to their mother’s, and he hadn't seen Aerea since he left

So you picked up the phone and started to talk

Jace watched you through the window, just by the look on your face, he knew it must be the lame excuse of a father

He blame it all on you when he spoke to him, Luke and little Joffrey

Of course he didn’t tell them that he was the one at fault when he cheated. No, he gave them some lame excuse that people grew apart and what not

He was making it almost too easy

You were so sweet, almost naive…

“Harwin…”, you fought over the phone, “I know Aerea is two, and she is not much fun, and yes, she won’t remember, but she needs to see her father… it’s important for her”, a tear fell from your eye has you heard Harwin’s lame excuses not to pick up his own daughter, “I know… she is a lot of work, she is too young, but she calls for you at night…”

“Well that this what you get for kicking me out of our house”, he managed to hear 

Jacerys looked severely at you, and you just found him there, listening

“Well, whatever Harwin, call me when you want to see your daughter”, and you hang up the phone, and wiped your tears and tried to smile

“Thank you Jacey”, you whispered, not very convincing, “I’m having lunch, would you like some? I made too much, you see… out of habit”, you said simply

“I would love to”, he said, “I always loved your cooking” 

“Great”, you smiled softly, you were longing for company, so you rushed to set the table and serve lunch, Jacaerys sat on the table, and you put a plate filled with food to the brim.

When you married Harwin, you were young, you didn't really know how to make much, you didn’t know how to cook, and you barely knew how to clean a stove 

You learned, because Harwin passive aggressively told you he wanted to eat… better, so you bought books and forced yourself to improve your technique

For you, it was work

Harwin seemed pleased, but never had said a word to you.

Jace’s moan of delight made you snap out of your thoughts and smiled as you saw him golfing down the entire plate of food

“This is magnificent”, he moaned, “fuck”

“Hey, don’t curse” , you giggled

“Is just so good”, he said, “best I’ve ever tried”

“Now, I don’t believe that”

“The best pasta with Volantisi sauce I’ve ever had!”, he said, “Cross my heart and hope to die!”

“Well, I'll believe you”

You needed that, every little compliment, it was food for your soul, because if it wasn’t for Aerea, you would have believed you were doing everything terribly wrong

Aerea’s call for you was her signal to letting you know she was awake

“Just in time”, you muttered, and went to grab her

Jace certainly enjoyed watching your delicious ass walking away from him to go and pick up your child. 

Suddenly he was hungry for something else

He imagined what it would feel like, with his big hands grab the globes of your ass, spread them apart and…

But he needed to bid his time

He was already in, he needed to go slow, so it was permanent

You came back with a giggly Aerea, she was so sweet

“Would you like some lunch my beautiful girl?”, you asked sweetly, with a hand serving spaghetti while she walked towards Jace and reached for him with her arms. Jace picked her up

“You already walk little one, why do you always want to be carried uh?”

“Yes she is a little spoiled isn’t she?”, you asked sitting back at his side

“Just the right amount, and understand like, how could you refuse her? she is so beautiful and sweet”

Gods, he could already feel it, him with the baby you were going to give him in his arms, while you prepare a delicious lunch for all the family…

You tried to feed Aerea as she was being hold by Jace, and sneaked bites in the middle, Jace moved his chair, you were impossibly close, he was still half naked, he leaned in

 “You make beautiful babies”, he whispered so close to your ear your little hairs in the back of your head bristled, you jumped when your phone rang

You grabbed it quickly

“Darling I did it!”, sang song Sara’s voice, loud enough that Jace was right there, “I got you the interview, but you have to be here in twenty minutes, I caught him on a good mood”

“I can’t do that, I have Aerea here…”

“Go”, Jace said, “I’ll take care of her”

“Really? It could take a couple of hours…”, you said apologetically

“Of course”, he said with a shy smile, “she adores me and I her”

“Thank you so much”, you whispered, “Sara I can make it”, you said excitedly onto the phone

“Great, get in here!”, you jumped front he table, kissing your daughter on the cheek, and Jace’s cheek without thinking

“Thank you, you can call me if anything happens. for real”

“Nothing will”, he assured you

“Bye mama!”, Aerea was barely talking, but everyday she said new words 

“Bye my love, be good to your big brother alright?”, you teased, you grabbed your things and went out the door

It was a job opportunity, a very special one since you haven't worked in four years 

And it was also a great opportunity for Jace, being alone in your house is something he needed

“Jace-ey”, she giggled as she grabbed a handful of spaghetti with her chubby hand and took it to her mouth

“No darling, da-da”, he teached her, making her jump on his knee, making her giggle

“Nooooo! Jacey!”, she babbled playfully

He make her have more plentiful spoonfuls of pasta, and then he grabbed her in his arms

He searched for the cupboards until he found them, healthy snacks for his baby sister, he grabbed a cookie made of puffed rice and honey

“Who I am?”

“Jacey”, she giggled

“No… da-da”, he thought her

“Dada”, she said complicitly, and he gave her the treat happily 

“You are such a good little girl”, he praised, making her jump in his arms, “wanna play?”

She was a sweet kid, and Jace adored her, and he was going to love her more once he could call her his. He placed her in her playing zone in the corner of the living room

There is a couple of things he needed to do

He put on his gray sweatshirt on, as he was going to stay inside, and then he grabbed his backpack and extracted a small spy camera, 

He was a dedicated young man, so he placed one in the living room, in the bookshelf amongst the books, pointing at the couch and you could also see the open space towards the kitchen… especially the kitchen counter, where he planned to ram you against 

He looked at Aerea to check on her and she giggled 

“Da-da”, he reminded her

“Da-da”, she called back

“Good girl, come”, he called, reaching for her, she stood up, grabbed a stuffed animal and ran away from him giggling, he chased after her, until she reached your room, the space he wanted to see

He playfully grabbed her and let himself fall to the bed with her on top of him, he hugged and kissed her face, and then he started tickling her until she laughed hard

“It’s the tickle monster”, he growled playfully 

“Noooo dada!”, she laughed, she looked so sweet with her small teeth.

Jace stood up, taking another camera off his pocket

“This, is for dada to take care of mommy”, he said, showing it to Aerea

“Mama! dada!”, she said, she tossed and turned on the bed, playing, as Jace placed the camera hidden in the furniture in front of the bed, where he could see you clearly when you slept… or rather, when you invited him in

“The tickle monster is back!”, he growled, once he was done

Aerea shrieked and laughed trying to squirm away from him, but Jace grabbed her in his arms 

“Dada! more cookies!”, she begged, Jace took one from the small package he had placed in his pocket and gave one to her

She munched on it while he took her to his next point

They were right there, he didn't even had to look too hard

A brand knew package of your contraceptive pills, only two of them missing, sitting gingerly on top of the sink, inside your cosmetic bag

“Yes” he said with satisfaction, to see that they were those white ones, the easiest ones change, and you used one of those cool plastic gadgets to dispense them 

“Do you want a baby brother or sister, Aerea?”, he asked with a silly voice

“Yes!”, she said simply

“Then mommy is not going to need these anymore”, he said, slowly replacing each one by placebo’s his friend Cregan helped him get

Then he threw them in the sink, running water to eliminate the evidence

“Do you think nineteen days are enough to make a baby little one?”, he asked again, to keep her entertained, while she played with the rubber duckies that were in the edge of the bathtub for her bath time

He looked at the hamper filled halfway with your clothes in it, he leaned in, and grabbed a pair of panties... and he put him inside his pocket, for later... he thought...

When he was done, he felt proud of himself, he grabbed his baby sister and walked to the living room

“Baby dragons”, she demanded when they went back to the open space of the kitchen, dining room and living room, and she saw the big TV

“Ah, do you want to watch some cartoons, little one?”, he sat on the sofa with Aerea, turning on the TV and putting on the streaming service

You were such a good mother

He put on his little brother’s and now Aerea’s favorite show

“Baby dragons!”, she cheered as cartoon dragons appeared on screen, a green and blue one, a red and black one, a cream colored one with golden, a dark blue one, a golden one, and others”

“What is your favorite one?”, he asked

Aerea cuddled on his chest as she was quickly hypnotized by the show

“Dimfire”, she said simply, wanting to say Dreamfyre

“That is also Aegon’s favorite”, he laughed 

He wondered how your interview went

He found it amusing

When you are his, you were not going to need to work, but by now, he found it endearing, you wanted to be independent, wanted to split from Harwin completely

That worked in his favor 

You came back some hours later, finding the most endearing scene in the living room, Jace hugging his baby sister, cuddling together on the couch 

“Hellooo”, you sand sing, “I brought us a treat”, you said, two boxes of pizza in your hands

“You treat me so well”, Jace said with a smile, and you were just happy he was comfortable here, you has tried so hard when you first started receiving them in your house, to make it a home for them as well, and you believed you had succeeded

Was there a way for you to only diverse Harwin but keep his family? you were going to miss having them around, it was already a week, and you felt so lonely

You were happy and relieved Jace was staying

“Is the least I could do”, you said with a smile, “How was the little one?”, 

“An Angel, but that is no surprise”, he said

“You are so good with her, she loves her big brother”, you smiled at him. 

“Well, I have experience with my younger brothers, I have taken care of them since they were born”, he said with a proud smile

If he only knew he was trying to prove how good of a father material he was.

As you munched on the pizza, Aerea in her chair, you started chatting up cheerfully

“How did the interview go?”, he asked

“Great”, you said with a wide smile, “I don’t want to jinx it, Aerea is started daycare so it would be great”, you said, “I don’t want to get my hopes up”

“I bet it went great and you are being modest”, you smiled back at him, “you are a great mother, I’m sure you are a great professional as well”, he said simply

You suddenly felt nervous for some reason

“I’m sorry Jace, I knew we had something good here”, you said quietly, wanted to get it out of your chest

“You don’t have to apologize”, he said simply, “it is not your fault”, he said

“Well, depends in who you ask I guess”, you said without even thinking, “I miss having you all around, the house got so quiet all of a sudden”

“Well, that could be easily fixed, I’m here”, he said, and you smiled, “thank you for letting me come here as an escape, do you mind if I crash here?

How could you ever think there was something sort of sinister behind that “boy next door” attitude and smile?

“Like I said, is your house”, you whispered

You finished your dinner and as you took all the leftovers and the plates back to the kitchen, Jace released Aeres from her chair, taking her in his arms 

“Dada!”, giggled Aerea and then she leaned in and cuddle in Jace’s neck

“No sweety”, you giggled, over the bar that separated the kitchen from the table you had your meals in, “that’s your big brother Jace”, he was looking back at you, amused

“Well I could be her dad”, he teased

“No…”, you chuckled, “you just look so much like Harwin” 

“If I was Aerea’s father we would had have her when I was nineteen, the same age my father was when he had me”, he pointed out, and you found it strange that he would go out of his way to do explain it. You also found it strange he said we 

“Well he was young”, you said, “but you are right, you could have made her”, you teased tickling Aerea making her giggle 

You took her in your arms as she started cuddling, a clear sign that she was getting sleepy as the night had fallen over the city

“I’ll take her to bed, you of course can do whatever, perhaps watch a movie that isn’t animated”, you teased

“Nighty night Aerea”, he said goodbye, and you went to tuck your toddler in her bed

And as you want to make your daughter sleep, Jace put away everything else, cleaning the kitchen as well, he had to put everything out there, prove to you that he was worth it

He catches a bottle of wine hidden there, of course you were saving it for a special occasion, and he smiled thinking soon there might be, but not tonight

He already had a foot in, and now he was going to jump all in.  

But for now he grabbed a couple of beers, and he looked for the movie that had more sex scenes in it, and waited for you to join him.

taglist! @champomiel

[wingedblooms]

Blooming dreams

Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than emperors. (Mary Cantwell)

This meta is a continuation of my thoughts over the years, but especially the ones expressed in the following links. Please be aware that there are major hofas spoilers in this post and avoid if needed.

Secret, lovely seer / Forbidden secrets

A rose in the thorns / The flower of life

Seer, wise woman, witch / Three sisters witches / Starborn light

Since my first meta, I have been fixated on Elain’s connection to the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (let's call her Wyrd) and her potential powers, including sight, shapeshifting, and healing. They are all related when you’re talking about Wyrd, though I am not here to say what I have written is what Sarah has planned. This post is more a love letter to Sarah’s mystical and earthy depiction of Elain and what I would love to see in her story based on all the seeds she’s planted (and if there is an actual magical bean seed involved, I’ll love her all the more for it). Thanks especially to @psychologynerd for previewing this fever dream of a post.

I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. (acotar)

From the first book in the series, Feyre recognizes that Elain views things differently. She views things that are sad and dark with hope, and that’s why Sarah has called her the quiet dreamer. It’s a strength that sets her apart. I like to think that’s also what the Cauldron—though warped by the Asteri—saw when she was forced into its womb. 

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain…Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes and I wondered if it may have recognized Elain as a kindred spirit, some echo of its Mother form. A creator, life-bringer. Were the waters of the Cauldron more like Silba’s Womb—a darkness of creation, sweet and lovely—when Elain was immersed? Or is it possible that when Elain entered its dark womb she viewed it differently than her sister? Did she see a wounded creator to help rather than an enemy to combat? 

Elain’s hopeful perspective might be why it gifted her with such powers, powers that we know allow her to see differently than others. And since it may have enhanced her unique perception, I wonder if it also enhanced her ability to bring life and beauty into the world. As a gardener, Elain is well acquainted with the task of envisioning her garden and then getting her hands dirty to make that vision a reality. Dream and reality are entwined in gardening, just like her Sight.

“She loves to garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when–when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.” (acowar)  If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta…she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. [...] Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground. (acowar)  She had no mental shields, no barriers. The gates to her mind…Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers–or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar) If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s…They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar)  “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this…I think the world needs more gardens.” (acowar) 

As we saw in acosf for Nesta—a new type of warrior who forges magical swords and retrieves the Harp from an ancient fortress (the Prison) connected to the Starborn—these descriptions are clearly meant to foreshadow what occurs in the sisters’ stories. While Nesta is a freshly forged sword, Elain is blooming life in Illyria. And what do we learn in hofas? 

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”  Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...]  “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)

We receive confirmation that the Cauldron is associated with the sister peaks, as I suspected, and Ramiel in particular as @merymoonbeam has previously suggested. 

Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.”  [...] “They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas) 

In Forbidden secrets, I theorized that Elain’s powers might allow her to map the secrets of the land in order to heal it and @offtorivendell discussed magical mounds in her theory on reviving dusk. It seems like the Asteri did indeed leave secrets behind, which might explain why certain places continue to be forbidden and barren. But we are given hope that they do not need to remain that way. In hofas, Bryce wakes and wields the land belonging to her Starborn ancestors on the Prison island:

And precisely as Theia had gifted her own power to Silene … perhaps Silene had in turn left that same power here, to be claimed by a future scion. One by one, rapid as shooting stars, the thoughts raced through Bryce. More on instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her hand atop the eight-pointed star. Bryce reached with her mind, through layers of rock and earth—and there it was. Slumbering beneath her. Not firstlight, not as she knew it on Midgard—but raw Fae power from a time before the Drop. The power ascended toward her through the stone, like a glimmering arrow fired into the dark— [...] Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light burst from the floor. A star, twin to the one in Bryce’s chest. Her starlight at last awoke again, as if reaching with shining fingers for that star hovering inches away. With trembling hands, Bryce guided the star to the one gleaming on her chest. Into her body. White light erupted everywhere. Power, uncut and ancient, scorched through her veins. The hair on her head rose. Debris floated upward. She was everywhere and nowhere. She was the evening star and the last rays of color before the dark. Azriel had nearly reached the tunnel. Another flap of his wings and he’d be swallowed by its dark mouth. But at a mere thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed, closing in on him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping for the winged warrior— The rock had moved for her, as it had for Silene. “Stop him,” she said in a voice that was more like her father’s than anything she’d ever heard come out of her mouth. Azriel swept for the tunnel archway—and slammed into a wall of stone. The exit had sealed. Slowly, he turned, wings rustling. Blood trickled out of his nose from his face-first collision with the rock now in his path. He spread his wings, bracing for a fight. The mountain shook, the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling. Walls began shifting, rock groaning against rock. As if the place this had once been was fighting to emerge from the stone. [...] From far away, she could sense it: the things lurking within the mountain, her mountain. Twisted, wretched creatures. Some had been here since Silene had trapped them. Had been contemplating their escape and revenge all this time. She’d let them out if she restored the mountain to its former glory. And in that moment, the mountain—the island—spoke to her. Alone. It was so alone—it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth— (hofas)

The mountain–Bryce’s mountain–speaks to her, asking her to open her heart to it so it can finally rise from its slumber. Cue internal screaming, my friends, because this language was intentional and it might finally explain Elain’s conversation in this scene: 

She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)

Elain’s hearing is a source of concern after she is Made because it is unusually heightened; she hears so many things, usually connected to the nature around her as @silverlinedeyes theorized. Like calls to like, and so she might be able to hear the beating heart of the land around her, even as it slumbers. Perhaps that is why her eyes were drawn to the barren ground in Illyria.

Vesperus, an Asteri trapped in a glass coffin below the Prison, tells us more about the connection between the Cauldron and the land: 

“I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. Bryce rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call you the Evening Star, too. Happy?” “Is it not fitting?” A wave of long fingers capped in sharp nails. “I drank from the land’s magic, and the land’s magic drank from me.” [...] Vesperus folded her hands in her lap. “A planet that was once green, as this one is.” “And that wasn’t good enough?” “We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.” [...] “Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron…” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

This should come as no surprise because we saw this play out in acowar, but the Cauldron is tied to the soul of their world. The term soul is intentional, and we will return to it in a bit, but I started to wonder in Forbidden secrets about that connection. The influence of Wyrd is especially clear in the sacred peaks, where the Asteri left behind their secrets. Could Elain unravel the Asteri’s magic from the slumbering heart of the earth, and unbind the Cauldron as a result? Or will she need to go to Cretea to retrieve and purify the magic of the Asteri from the Cauldron like a healer would, in body and in spirit? (Hello, Nephelle celebrations, let’s go.) Nothing feels more right than seeing our strong-willed gardener get her hands dirty as she rips out the Asteri from the root, or beating heart, of their world. Sarah may have even hinted at this role for Elain as she describes getting into her mind for her book:

“There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain’s head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book. I’m not even joking. Elain’s now going to have dreams about ripping ivy out and the ivy creeping in through the windows to strangle her at night, because let me tell you, that ivy does not want to go.” (Sarah’s interview in acofas) 

English ivy is an aggressive invader and its hosts decline over time before they die. That’s exactly what the Asteri are: aggressive invaders that feed off of their hosts, warping the power of the land for their sole benefit, until it begins to wither away. In hofas, we learn that the Asteri hid their power throughout the land, including at the root of sacred mountains:

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”

“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.

“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)

And we see the moment Bryce discovers that Vesperus has hidden her power in the root of the Prison mountain, which is what sustains her and weakens the land: 

Bryce clutched the Starsword tighter. Its power thudded into her palms like a heartbeat. “But why store your power here? It’s an island—not exactly an easy pit stop.” “There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”  […] “Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” […] “Theia had the gift,” Vesperus said, “but did not understand how to claim the light. I made sure never to reveal how during her training—how she might light up entire worlds, if she wished, if she seized the power to amplify her own. But you, Light-Stealer…She must have passed the gift down to you. And it seems you have learned what she did not.”  Vesperus peered at her bare feet, the rock beneath. “Theia never learned how to access the power I cached beneath my palace. She had no choice but to leave it there, buried in the veins of this mountain. Her loss—and my gain.” Oh gods. There was a fucking firstlight core here, far beneath their feet— (hofas)

These thin places are where ley lines—highways for magic and communication—overlap, allowing travel for those who are suited to it (wayfarers). Starborn and Asteri alike seem to be suited to these places, and have used them to store their power, causing the land around it to wither. 

“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.”

All of the sister peaks thrum with power and are at odds with the land around them. Barren. They might all be thin places, interconnected through ley lines...and hiding a cache of magic in the root (heart) of their souls.

Bryce’s ancestors, separated by the Void, planted clues for those with the gifts and vision to see it.

What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became … alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it. (hofas)

A secret carved in stone. What secrets remain under other sacred mountains, such as Ramiel? Is it any coincidence that Enalius, who defended Ramiel, was the owner of Truth-Teller? Or that the Cauldron is depicted there? Who would be equipped with the gifts and vision to uncover those secrets and finally set the soul of the land free, like Bryce? 

“Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it. […] Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was. (hofas)

Helena bound the soul of Avallen in magical chains. Doesn't that sound like what the Asteri did with the Cauldron and the land? There are so many hints that Elain is set up to address this plot, but the one I find the most compelling is given by the Under-King when he confirms who Wyrd (Urd) is:

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos.” […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

Now, doesn't that sound familiar?

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

The statues are essentially the same and Wyrd has already been described in terms that evoke the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (Forces That Be). And Nesta just happened to feel the need (fateful tug?) to place Elain’s rose—a symbol of life and joy and beauty—right next to Wyrd, and drew our attention to it again in the final scene of her story. What do you want to bet that Wyrd, the Stone Mother, gave her favorite gardener the gifts and vision she needs to make her dream of building more gardens, of breathing life and beauty into the land, a reality?

Sarah has confirmed that the main female characters in her books are helped by others, usually a love interest and friends. So who might be foreshadowed to help Elain?

I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”  “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. (acowar)  - “I’ll help you,” Nesta offered.  But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.”  Then she was gone–shoulders a little squarer.  - It was three by the time the others went to bed. [...] Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)

It’s no coincidence that the characters closest to Elain possess unique powers that complement her own and relate specifically to the elements of Stone Mother. Azriel learned to speak the language of shadow and wind and stone, while the half-wraith twins are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone as @psychee92 discusses here. Their magic likely thrives in thin parts of the world. It also isn't a coincidence that Nesta noticed and wondered this:  

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (acosf) 

Their beautiful, wraith-like team has the gifts necessary to traverse the slumbering heart of the earth as easily as foreign courts, which is a hard combination to find and is uniquely suited for Elain’s mission to release the Cauldron and land from the magical chains of the Asteri. Especially since we learn that Bryce uses both blades of the Starborn to free Avallen from its magical chains:

On an exhale, she plunged the weapons into the slits in the eight-pointed star. The small one for the knife. The larger one for the sword.

And like a key turning in a lock, they released what lay beneath. (hofas)

They even help Bryce rid the land of the Asteri and their core of power, creating a larger void to devour the one the Asteri set in place. Back in acowar, as many have noticed, Sarah already planted this moment between Azriel and Elain:

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife. (acowar)

She and Azriel seem to represent the balance of light and dark in the Starsword and Truth-Teller, as @merymoonbeam theorized. The Starborn blade—the one belonging to Enalius—is a bridge of connection between them. Bryce leaves the Starsword (Gwydion) and Truth-Teller with Nesta, encouraging her to learn about her connection to the Starborn (eight-pointed star). That might mean the Archeron Starborn connection may happen after all. I could see Elain wielding those blades when needed, activating their magic as she seemed to do with Truth-Teller, to release the land from its magical chains. It would also be interesting if Elain and Azriel functioned like the Made blades themselves, releasing the Asteri’s chains with their own blend of raw magic, and watching joyously as life blooms in earnest again.

Once they remove the magical chains of the Asteri—on the land and their sacred Cauldron—perhaps we’ll also discover what exists between Elain and Azriel at last: 

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports–likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City–the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. 

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” 

“I’d keep that question from Lucien.” 

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” 

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…” (acowar)

@silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @elriell and others have written extensively about mating bonds, so I won’t discuss that in depth here. Essentially, Feysand and Nessian appear to have bonds that are true in spirit, and they are described as living threads of pure golden light between their souls. 

Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful. (acosf) 

This living light reminds me of the dawn, which is associated with healing and new beginnings. When Feysand and Nessian bind their souls together in these scenes, the dawn is invoked each time: 

Feysand

…I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world. (acomaf)

Nessian

Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world. (acosf)

And when Azriel first sees Elain in his bonus chapter, her hair is unbound and she appears like the dawn, gilded in living light on the longest night of the year. 

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

Is it possible that, with Elain’s connection to Wyrd and the land, her own threads of life are similarly chained, or warped? Perhaps when Elain clears away the Asteri’s power, we will finally see the truth blooming between them: threads of golden light twining together in an endless, earthy melody.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Yo! Adrian

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: It's finally here, the LAST CHAPTER! What a journey this has been from a silly little oneshot to a whole fucking series that so many people have sent me so many kind messages and fanart of 💕 I'm so excited that I get to share this with you, and I'm so glad that I've been able to complete it and give you guys a full story. Thank you so so much to everyone that has sent me their support and kept the story going. Love you all sm, please let me know what you think whn you're done. I can't wait to see your reactions ✨🥰

Part 10 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️- 

You swore you could feel König’s fingers caressing your face. 

You could feel his heavy digits tracing over every tiny pore and for a second you could breathe calmly, you felt light. In the shadow of his phantom’s presence you smiled airily and thought of better times. It was as if a rift had opened in the room and you were no longer part of it, you were somewhere far away and lying in an unfamiliar bed, naked under the pale sheets in the shine of moonlight.

Just like always, you fell into each other's arms and drank in each other’s bodies just as greedily as the last time you’d met. His heady piney scent would soothe your tired nerves and his hands would roam your body, chasing off every stray piece of worry that dared linger. It was your memories of comfort that you were clinging onto the most, holding them high above your head as you sunk into the depths of your mind, cold flesh tingling with the thought of König’s fiery warmth. 

You weren’t in some hole in the middle of nowhere. You were with him. 

There’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you.

You kept repeating those words over and over in your mind, throat constricting as you remembered those whispered promises that he’d given to you in your bunk. He was with you, you and he were joined together inextricably. It didn’t matter if he was actually there or if you were simply losing your mind to lack of sleep and sustenance, he was with you always. 

All of a sudden König’s fingers stroked a wave across your cheek, a thin airy line that swung across your face like a breeze. It made you frown. What was he doing? Was he playing a game with you? It was so late, you both needed to sleep. Why was he doing this? 

When you opened your eyes again, it was as if you’d been woken into hell. Rousseau grinned down at you, his metal pole hanging loosely from his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Reality was breaking down in front of your eyes, pieces of it glitching in your peripherals. The bedsheets and moonlight fell away and all you were left with was your dirty sheet in the middle of a crusty smelling shithole bunker. 

“Where’s… wh- where’s König?” you croaked.

Getting those words out was like fighting through a sandstorm to talk. Your throat had never been so scratchy, and your head was so clouded and heavy. Everything was such a jumble you couldn’t understand how you were lying with König one moment and then back with Rousseau again tje next, it didn’t make sense. 

“What’ve you done with him?” you cried, swaying with the effort it took to speak. “Where’s König!”

Rousseau shook his head and nudged your shoulder with his weapon, the thick metal bar barely even prodded you and you were sent spiralling. Your body tipped like a glass full of water and you spilled onto the floor, lurching onto your hands and knees as soon as you were able. Though you were shaking helplessly even as you steadied yourself, it felt like your muscles were rapidly atrophying in real time, tearing apart and wasting away like bean bag stuffing pouring from a tear. 

“You’re not doing very well, hm?” Rousseau taunted, walking around your pathetic crawling form. “There is no König here. Just you and the Captain, Sergeant.”

The way he said König, it sounded like a curse. 

You shrank back at his spitting venom and swallowed the bile that threatened to erupt upward from your throat. It was all too much. You couldn’t understand where you were anymore, couldn’t remember what was happening. 

You closed your eyes and opened them again, executing the world’s slowest blink. Finally looking around properly, you saw Rousseau and when you swivelled you saw his faithful guard dogs, the men that always seemed to haunt the corners of your vision. A further glance had you finding Price on his knees, swaying gently as he tried miserably to stay upright. He was dancing to the same sick death drum that you were. 

Your eyes lit up in recognition. 

“You were…I was…you were going to kill me,” you said dumbly, holding your head as you rose to your knees. “Why do you keep playing with us like this?”

Rousseau stood in front of you and tilted his head, watchful dark eyes cascading down your shivering body. It was like looking back at a bear. A vicious giant towering above you, threatening to charge at any second and shred you to pieces. Though he never did. He always stopped just before he could truly break you. 

Break your body anyway. You were more convinced by the day that your mind was gone.

“Are you really so eager to die, Sergeant?” He questioned.

His voice was light, playful as a cat batting a mouse around.

“You recorded a video teeing up for a final death blow…It doesn’t look very good if I’m said to be alive after that. Makes your threats look empty.”

Rousseau raised an eyebrow. His gaunt features slackened, but he didn’t look as angry as one might expect a scorned warlord to look. It seemed more like he was considering his next move carefully. Probably gauging what you could take after everything you’d endured already. 

“You think I don’t mean to kill you?”

His voice had a harder edge to it now.

“I think that you’ve taken far too long to do it.”

It was true. As much as you still clung to the hope of rescue, you knew well enough that being constantly on the move between decrepit holes and dank pits meant that you weren’t going to be easily tracked. The only other release you could be certain of was death, and at the stage you were at, it felt like it’d be a mercy. 

Your stomach constantly ached with clawing hunger, the kind that had you hallucinating little hands inside your belly - scraping at the lining just to try and find scraps. Your lips were dry and cracked and your eyes were always struggling to stay open. Your lids weighed so heavy on you, your entire body did in fact. It was becoming more and more of a chore just to keep breathing, nevermind trading barbs with the torturer in chief. 

Soon you’d be as out of it as Price was. 

“You are a government dog. All you know is ‘go fetch’,” Rousseau said eventually, straying from your side and leisurely working his way over to Price. “You do things quick and dirty. We are playing the long game, I am building something, I’m heading a revolution. Those aren’t built on quick decisions - no, they are chess moves. I am just aligning my pieces.”

He came to a stop behind Price’s back, his long legs were almost touching Price’s bare body, his black trousers were almost the same colour as some of your poor captain's bruises. Rousseau still held the length of metal piping in his hands, he was swinging it gently in his grip, meaningfully gazing at you and down to the bat. You stared between them from under your hooded eyelids and licked your lips.

What was he going to do?

You winced when you heard the crack. 

“Sneak,” Price gasped.

He tumbled forward, his back crumbling as he’d taken on another hit. The Captain's mangled body was only getting worse by the hour, his cuts were weeping again and his bruises looked like animal markings, like something that had become inherently part of him. You had no idea how he was still going. 

Even still, you flew forward and urged him up, looking into his tired eyes and trying to coax him back. At least if he was up he couldn’t be trampled. You’d learned that lesson the hard way. 

Price gripped your arm and you huffed under the weight, almost screaming as you tried to keep his body aloft with what little strength you had left. His roughened fingers were scraping at your papery thin skin and you clenched your teeth while you fought to balance him. It was getting harder and harder to set him right with every time he fell, but no matter what you’d keep doing it. 

Even while you’d gone against his orders he still held you up and made you keep fighting. It was only fair that you did the same in return. 

“Price? Price, are you ok? Price?”

He took a moment to reply. His body wobbled a little, threatening to tip again, but he righted himself in the last minute, his scruffy jaw almost swinging as he gasped in a breath. 

“Sneak, you’ve gotta shut the fuck up,” he coughed.

You almost laughed despite the situation. 

“Affirmative,” you grimaced, resting against him as you managed to work out a delicate balancing act. 

“Wait a minute now, Captain,” Rousseau tutted, signalling for his men to come forward. “You should welcome your Sergeant’s words. I’ve spared Sneak for now, but the next video is your final as a pair. I have something special planned…but all in good time. For now you can go back to your crate, dogs.”

The two of you stared at him, looking up through your tired gazes. The news didn’t feel shocking, you’d expected to die minutes ago so you hadn’t been holding out hope to steal time for much longer. It almost felt like a relief for a moment to know that you could be certain of something.

Though the relief didn’t last long. Not when his men finally reached you both and yanked you apart, dragging you along the floor like a couple of retired mannequins. Your skin burned with the familiar feeling of loose gravel and it didn’t take long until you were seething, clawing at the man’s gloved hand just to try and stop his forceful grip. It never ever seemed to help though.

“Try not to get yourself killed from fighting back. It would ruin the plans I have for you, Sergeant!”

The blanket that had previously been slouched on your back was now tangled around your waist. It was gathering itself between your legs and around your hips, snaking around you in a boa like grip. It might’ve felt like a relief earlier on in your time, but you knew well enough the men weren’t bothering about your state of dress, they never did. They would always drag you through the halls kicking and screaming, clothesless and dirty, feral as a child of the forest. Somehow the indignity faded with time, lost to the hurt you were drowning under. 

You looked up at the man and his smug bearded face and snarled. You soon took to scrabbling against the floor and trying to get as much purchase as you could. If you fought hard enough maybe you could work yourself into a semi crawl by the his side, relieve the burning of your back and feet. The man wasn’t having it though. 

He kicked at your legs and threw your arm away, sending you reeling and knocking into the dark wall by the doorway. Your jumbled head was spinning when you slammed into the concrete. The dim flickering light danced in your eyes and after a few blinks, you regained enough vision to see the man advancing back towards you. You cowered. 

You feebly stuck your arms in front of you, blocking your face and hunching up just to try and protect yourself. Even if you thought it was useless, even if you’d tried to do the same thing many times already and failed. You tried anyway.

“You don’t follow orders well, soldier,” Rousseau scolded, voice full of amusement. 

He had no idea. 

His lackey’s steps barrelled toward you, he shouted something in french and with each ricocheting sound that slapped your ears, you shook like a mast in a storm. You shook, but still you cursed at the man, you cursed at Rousseau and you peaked through your makeshift body shield and cursed at the guard dragging Price away.

No matter what they did to you, you revelled in the fact that one day they would be caught. One day König would catch up to them, he and the remaining numbers in the 141 would crash in and they would draw ten times the blood that Rousseau ever could. They would wreak the kind of revenge you would’ve chewed König out for only months ago. 

And you would celebrate it now. 

You gritted your teeth and braced, the man was only steps away from you. Rousseau was smirking to himself in the background, metal pipe discarded as he stood with his arms crossed just as casually as if he were catching the tail end of a sitcom. You waited for the hit. You tensed every screaming muscle in your frail body and shut your eyes tight, scrunching your face in full knowing of the hurt you were about to feel. 

Your heart beat furiously. You waited. 

Boom

The entire room shook and you were sent sprawling and coughing into the smoky darkness. Dust swirled around your eyes and seconds later the room went completely pitch dark. You blinked. 

Was this another of your hallucinations?

Were they really getting that vivid? 

This felt real. 

All of a sudden you were being yanked up and you screamed. Your arm felt like it had been pulled out of its socket and then replaced about five thousand times. It was sheer agony. Though you didn’t have the strength to fight the force. Instead you went along with it, crying out at whoever it was that was taking you further into the darkness. 

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

The voice confirmed it. The voice and the heavy metal weapon that struck your jaw. 

Rousseau had taken you from your heap and was now ragdolling through the doorway, stealing you both through the trembling tunnels like a wraith. You had no idea how he was able to navigate the place so smoothly with a fighting captive and sheer darkness and yet he was doing it anyway. Unfortunately for you. 

“Come! Gather the Captian!”

More explosions sounded overhead, gunshots rung out like hailstones hitting the ground, all muted and dull. Somewhere up above you there was a fucking massive firefight. The realisation had you grinning from ear to ear, even as blood sluiced from your split mouth. 

With the very little brain capacity you had, even you were able to figure out who it was that was up there. 

Your stomach was churning and your legs were barely able to crank themselves one in front of the other, but still you knew that König was close. You swore you could sense him even through the concrete. Somewhere in the battering of rock and scream of metal you could sense the six foot, ten inches of vengeance tearing up the ground overhead.

“König,” you choked.

Maybe you were going to make it.

You were tugged furiously forward. 

“No one can help you now. Snivelling like that will only make your death worse” Rousseau seethed.

You frowned, stumbling forward only moments later. You tripped over a gap in the flooring and pinwheeled forward, falling through the darkness and onto the ground once again. 

You shook your head, but before you could even think of recovering, you were blinded by a sudden shock of light. You let out a howling wail and covered your eyes, reeling as you tried to deal with the shock of it all.

Your head was pounding, the gunshots in the distance were relentlessly clashing with the swelling in your head. Your eyes felt like they might roll backwards through their sockets. Your nose was overwhelmed with thick dust, your throat was clogged with it too. Your ears were practically shrivelling with the wall of sound. 

All of it combined was sensory overload. 

You blacked out for a moment, temporarily lost. You saw König through flashes, but you knew it wasn’t really him. It couldn’t be. König wouldn’t just stand there, he’d be pulling you up into his arms and taking you away. He wouldn’t watch on as you were dragged around in that new level of hell. 

You blinked back through the spots and the flashes of unreality and you were greeted with the sight of a union jack unfurling high above you. The fabric unfurled like an angry ghost and your eyes were filled with dancing red white and blue. The lines didn’t seem to stay still, they were crossing and uncrossing, blurring softly in and out of focus. 

“What…what are you-”

“What did I tell you? Shut the fuck up!”

The metal pipe came down on your head once more and you gasped at the pressure, losing the breath from your lungs. You sprawled out like a bearskin rug and pasted yourself to the floor, watching dead eyed as Price was thrown by your side. He was equally as jelly-boned as you. 

“What are you doing?” you whispered, too done in to follow the directions you were given. 

Rousseau musn’t have heard you though. You followed the swelling blob that you assumed to be him and watched as it adjusted something and then gathered something else. Fuck. You were too fried to see what was happening. Everything was tinged in red, white and blue, nothing was solid, nothing felt real. 

Well, except maybe the blood that was still threatening to drown you. You hacked away at that and sobbed lightly, feeling the tears dribbling pathetically down your cheeks. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realised that you weren’t going to live through this afterall. Even if you did, was there going to be much of you left? 

Rousseau only confirmed your suspicions as he marched forward and tugged you up by your neck. You screamed and flailed with every little shred of energy you had left, but still it wasn’t enough. He was strangling you with something, wrapping something around your throat while he batted off your hands.

“No! No! No! No! N-” you choked until you couldn’t anymore. 

The thing was tightened around you and soon he didn’t have to hold you anymore. You gazed upwards and watched in horror as a long snaking line of rope was yanked upward - with you along with it. 

The choking and hacking only got worse from that point on. Your throat was constricting, you were flapping like a headless chicken. The pressure was threatening to burst your eyeballs, but even still you were cursed to see, cursed to watch. 

Price was being dragged the same as you, muscles twitching and head swaying like a lolling buoy. The camera was in front of you both, red light blinking ominously from the other end of the room. Rousseau was swinging his arms around and he was proselytising as always, sounding somehow even more passionate than usual. His voice was screeching and booming all at once, it filled the room and attacked the camera, it sent you swinging in his grasp. 

“...and now this is what they die for! They may capture me, but they will never prevail! They will only turn to ash, while we burn on forever!”

Out of the corner of your bulging eyes you could see the flag behind you set alight. You gawped at it like a flapping fish, tongue flailing around uselessly even as you continued to fight the rope. It was no use. Your vision was almost completely fading now, black was corrupting the edges and inch by inch it was taking over completely. Your body was losing its strength. Your arms fell limply to their sides.

“Nein!”

A scream of terrible anguish filled your senses. Your body slumped down. The darkness in your eyes receded for a moment. 

Boots filled your eyes, you coughed roughly upon seeing them, shocked as the two sets of feet got all too close to coming down on your head. The leading set stopped in their tracks and turned, forcing the other set of feet to back away before any final blow could come. You closed your eyes a moment and focused on hauling in tiny lungfuls of air, coughing like an old hag with every dying choke, but nevertheless you took those painful breaths in like they were bitter medicine. 

“You will pay! I will rip you apart, I will stick a knife through every nerve you have! You will suffer for what you’ve done, you self righteous sack of shit!”

You widened your eyes and even through the terrible pain you were fighting, you roared through it and forced your head up. You knew that voice, you knew that high pitched screaming growl. The sight of him only confirmed it. 

Was it really…were you dreaming again?

You blinked furiously and choked on a sob. Please don’t be dreaming, please don’t be dreaming. The mantra filled your mind and expanded into every little piece of you. Even through the dizziness and the labouring of your struggling body, you could recognise that man out of anywhere, you could’ve recognised him in the pitch black of the blown out tunnel. 

König was laying into Rousseau with the fury of a wounded lion. He rammed him into the wall and forced his head into the concrete over and over, the sound of sickening smack managed to break through the barrier of fuzz in your ears. It managed to break through König’s garbled screaming. Even in your broken state the site brought on an unwilling half smile that came slinking sickeningly from your subconscious.

“Don’t you dare move, don’t you dare do anything but keep breathing! You don’t get to leave this world until I make you regret ever seeing the light of your first day! Do you hear me? Your fight is finished!”

König threw Rousseau to the ground and brought his shining black boot hard down into his stomach. Rousseau panted out, a wormy little gasp broke past his lips but nothing more. He was forced to lie flat on the floor, torn between clutching at his cracked head and his flattened belly. The man who had towered over you had finally been brought down, turned into debris. 

You could hardly believe it. You couldn’t move for the shock. You just stared at Rousseau,  wide eyed, unflinching through the battlefield of pain that raged through every muscle and bone from within you. Somewhere above you were sure you could recognise your name being called, but everything was too fuzzy, the inky darkness was taking over, drawing you into its loving embrace. The dust was settling, your heartbeat was stilling. Everything coalesced into one feeling. Relief. 

You’d have never have felt that way before after seeing something so unnecessarily violent, but after all you’d been through… you weren’t so sure you could bring yourself to be upset. 

“…Darling please look at me.”

The faint whisper broke through your spaced out sound barrier. It was anguished, the voice it came from was hoarse and panting. So much emotion was poured into it, it couldn’t help but wash away the patina of death’s touch.

“Sneak, it can’t end like this. You told me you would come to Austria, yeah? You said you’d let me show you home. You have lots still to do. Look at me. Look at me! You said we’d make it through together Sneak, I’m not going to let you get away from me, do you hear me? Look at me!”

You forced your eyes to flicker upward, trying in vain to settle them on your saviour. The light in the room was so bright though, and his face- no his mask was so dark. You could only make out blackness and dark streaks of red. 

You grit your teeth and shuttered your eyes, blinking a few times until you could see König’s own big wet eyes staring forlornly down at you. You smiled then.

“It..is…you,” you croaked, voice all but useless from your injuries. “Not…dreaming.”

His eyes lit up at your garbled words, the dim blue puddles turned to shining icy lakes. The corners of your mouth lifted heavily into a pained smile. Those eyes didn’t lie, they weren’t figments of your imagination. This was real, you thought to yourself. Even if you might die, you still got to see him again, you got to look into his eyes again and hear his voice and bathe in the warmth of his presence. 

“No, you’re not dreaming,” König confirmed, hastily looking from you and to your surroundings, “you can't dream now, you have to listen to me, you mustn't close your eyes. Hold on for me, darling.”

“Kö…Kön-”

You launched into an ugly coughing fit, your head lit up an alarm system. System failure, everything was red. Your concentration broke and already you disobeyed König. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the hacking and choking. It felt like your lungs were closing, like they were balloons getting filled so completely they might pop. Every nerve, every wound, every cell in your body was on fire. 

You just wanted it to end. Why couldn’t the suffering end?

“Shh, c’mon breathe. Darling, breathe for me and take control. C’mon! Breathe for me!”

König drew you into his arms and wrapped something thick and warm around you. It might’ve been a comfort if not for the sparkling firecracker that was being set off in your chest. The endless coughing that was tearing up through your throat. 

Tears filled your eyes. No matter how much you wanted to cling to life, if even just for König, you weren’t sure you were strong enough. You weren’t even sure how you’d made it that far to begin with. Raw hope, you’d supposed. Though it didn’t feel like enough anymore. The agony was too much. 

“Sneak, you have to hold on,” König pleaded, rubbing his hands as firmly as your battered back would allow. “Please…don’t leave me alone.”

Dammit. 

You wheezed and cried, clenching your fists with all your might. Your ears rang with a high pitched sound, something you imagined to be angel screams ripping through your ears. You were turning away from death and running, you were sprinting towards life again, toward the scrabbling ugly beast that ran through the chambers of your crumbling body and clawed down at the walls. Pain. 

You gulped in what felt like a litre of air and held on, falling silent for a second until you slowly let it go and felt quiet once again. König’s arms stiffened around you, you could feel his fingers carving grooves into the melted clay of your skin. 

“Sneak?”

You opened your eyes again and settled them on König’s, blinking a few times so that he could still see proof of your presence. He didn’t look as relieved as he did the first time, but there was still a glimmer of hope in his face, still detectable no matter how small. His breaths seemed to resume too, you could see the faint puff start up from behind the dark material of his hood. 

“Sneak! Price!” A voice broke through the strangled calm. 

You blinked again and directed your eyes toward the sound, only daring to crack your neck just a little so that you could see. It was Gaz.. Well, Gaz and Soap. Gaz was thundering over to Price in seconds, squatting over him and grabbing at him, begging him to come to. However Soap was torn, he was frozen in silent horror in the doorway, barely there even as he stood. His face seemed to hollow as he surveyed the two camps that filled the room, though something dark seemed to fill him again when he settled on looking between your groups. 

He was looking at Rousseau. 

“Soap, help me with Price!” Gaz demanded.

He didn’t listen to Kyle. He ignored him in fact and strided over to the centre of the room, grinding to a stop in front of Rousseau’s unconscious body. He knelt down and checked for a pulse, lips pursing when he must’ve found what he was looking for. Still alive, you guessed. 

Why else would he be pulling zip ties from his back pocket? You hazily watched as he tightened them soundly around his wrists and ankles, double checking each one.

“He seems to be alive. How’re they?” Soap grunted, shooting over to Gaz and settling at Price’s other side. “König, how’s Sneak?”

Watching everyone felt like streaming on a bad connection, your vision was lagging, the frames kept flickering. It was a struggle to concentrate on their movements and breathe at the same time. You were faltering toward the darkness again. 

“Not good,” König whined, tightening his embrace on you. “Sneak’s fading fast, we have to get out of here and get to a medic.”

“Price isnt much better,” Gaz grunted, huffing as he lifted Price into a standing position.

Just then another shadow filled the room, it grew and stretched from the doorway like a blight. 

“Alright, halls are clear. How’re we looking in here?”

Ghost’s gruff voice echoed off the chalky walls. He looked between you all, eyes darting around and checking in on everyone, gun angled low to the ground. He looked like he was ready to destroy an entire army, his eyes were set hard and his stance was tense and ready. He was breathing fast.

“Bad. We gotta go,” Soap answered.

“Fucks sakes, get Price covered will you?” Ghost growled, throwing one of the discarded blankets toward Gaz and Soap. 

You looked down at yourself then, only suddenly realising that König had stuck you into one of his sweaters earlier. He must’ve brought it knowing that you’d be naked…he’d seen the videos. A grim thought took hold after. At least if you’d died then, you weren’t dying knowing that everyone was staring at your naked body anymore.

“Wrong thing to fuss over, mate,” Price coughed, finally piping up after his long silence. “We just need to get out of here - quick.”

He sounded better than you for once. They clearly hadn’t been choking him quite so badly during the filming, he sounded reasonably clear after everything he’d been through. He accepted the blanket that was being draped over him nonetheless, but it was hard not to spot the annoyance that overtook him. His brows were knit together tight. 

“We’ll get out, Price, we’ve got things handled,” Ghost assured, finally strapping his gun onto his back. “König, is Sneak going to be alright? Can you get them back to transport?”

“Yes,” König answered, his response harsh through his gritted teeth. “I’ll get Sneak back.”

“Good. I’ll handle Rousseau.”

The way that Ghost said that sounded like Rousseau might not make it back to the transport with the rest of you. Not that you could argue sense into him. Your vocal chords were fried. Though even if they weren’t, you couldn’t be sure you’d have much strength to speak. Your body felt like it was balancing on a knife’s edge, swaying too and fro between darkness and life. 

Closing your eyes and accepting darkness wasn’t an option however. You had to keep fighting. You kept blinking furiously and breathed in however much air your struggling lungs would allow you to. You focused on your heartbeats, clung to König’s hard body and willed yourself to keep going. You weren’t going to let yourself fade out. You couldn’t face knowing that you’d leave him alone, couldn’t face knowing you’d break your promise. 

“Darling, I know you’ve been through so much, but you have to hold on for a bit longer, ok?” König whispered.

His mouth was lowered to your ear. You could feel the roughened material of his hood caressing your skin, lighting a fuse just beneath the surface. You could feel it feathering through to the surface of your skull.  

“Ok,” you whispered. 

He stood up at that, your single utterance spurring him on and forcing him to go. Unfortunately you didn’t feel quite the same way, in fact you screamed out raggedly the moment you were forced to change position. It had him apologising furiously in your ear, but you could only shake your head at him, urging him on with a faded look. 

“Just stay with me, Sneak.”

You nodded your head this time, though it was easier promised than done. You were aware that König was taking you through the shot up hallways, but you knew yourself that you weren’t staying conscious the whole way. 

There were entire sections that seemed to be cleared without your knowledge. Some moments you’d only just be turning corners and the next you would bob your head past König’s shoulder and acknowledge an entire straight corridor behind you both. 

Hold on. 

You continued to blink sleepily and breathe. 

Don’t leave me alone. 

Time ran like slow honey. Each breath seemed to span hours. König was talking to you, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was he was saying. They seemed like affirmations, you were sure at some point he was promising to buy you things from that deli that you liked in town, but you weren’t awake for long to hear it. 

Towards the end you must’ve been gone for a solid few minutes. You went from almost total darkness then violently awoke to four terrified faces surrounding you at once, all bathed in the yellow light of day like they were standing under buttercups. There was a whirring sound all around you and your body felt like it was smothered in bubble wrap. You could hardly feel a thing.

“The drugs must be helping!” Soap shouted hopefully, his voice almost lost under the loud whooshes of air all around you. 

Were you on a helicopter?

You blinked up at the ceiling and smiled euphorically, almost laughing until you were forced to choke back more coughs. It forced your face to scrunch and the light around you to shatter. 

Why were you coughing? What was happening? Why were you in a helicopter? 

Oh no, it’s happening again I’m dreaming, you thought, absolutely horrified at the thought of waking up in the darkness again. It was the only explanation. How did you go from being beaten to being in a helicopter with all of your boys? It simply couldn’t be real. 

“Not…real,” you croaked sadly, “Not…real.”

“Sneak, save your throat,” König roared, his voice sounding similarly distant as Soap’s. 

His hand felt so heart shatteringly solid, like something that was really there. Hadn’t you felt him like that earlier and awoke to find it was all fake? His voice as well. The realisation brought on a violent sob. You were reduced to tears in seconds, shivering violently into the hard floor beneath you. You just couldn’t tell what was happening anymore, you couldn’t feel anything properly. Your skin felt fuzzy and your mind was filled with pillow stuffing.

“You’re safe, Sneak. It’s alright!”

You jumped when you heard König’s voice come through loud and clear. A weird snug feeling encapsulated your head and you frowned, not understanding that you’d been graced with a pair of headphones. The drugs really were doing their work, but you were too gone to even think of that. 

“Sneak hold on for me, ok? Just a little bit longer, my love,” König begged. 

His voice was so hoarse and scratchy. However you heard it loud and clear. 

“Mm…love you,” you whispered. “Been…dreaming bout…you.”

Even if it was a dream, you were happy to fall into it now. The warm fuzz was spreading further through your veins, cushioning your insides pleasantly from all the misery and strain. The idea of this being one of your last dreams tickled at your brain and you almost felt like giggling again. The sunshine was returning to the edges of your vision. 

“Sneak, listen to König and stay awake, alright? Don’t close your eyes Sneak!”

“Soap?” you frowned.

He’d never been in your visions before. Not that you were angry to hear his voice again, but you were thoroughly confused as to why he’d appeared all of a sudden. 

“Stop talking, Sneak. Your throat’s fucked.”

Ghost? 

“Yeah, you can relax for a little bit, ok? Just concentrate on us.”

Gaz?

“Stop overwhelming them,” Price growled out. “All of you shut it.”

Were they all there? You strained your head, moaning when you couldn’t move very much. Something was preventing you. Were you strapped down? You struggled and huffed out a few heavy breaths and soon found that it was no use. You couldn’t move. You could only face ahead. 

That wasn’t so bad either. Soon König was filling your sights and he was leaning above you, floating into frame like an angel. He was wearing his half mask, allowing you to see his uncovered eyes and messy blonde hair. More than ever you wanted to reach out and stroke it, though you knew well enough that you couldn't in your restrained predicament. You pouted. 

“Wan…feel…you…”

“Shhh, darling. Don’t talk. I’m right here, just stay with me. Focus on my voice and keep your eyes open. We’re getting you to a hospital, alright?”

You moaned. 

Why couldn’t you just reach out and touch him? You wanted to feel his hard body against yours just one more time, even if you weren’t sure you’d feel him properly in your dreamstate. It didn’t matter, you figured you could convince yourself of anything. If only you were enjoying the spread of his thick fluffy blonde locks beneath your fingers. Even the thought was enough to send you tingling. 

“That’s right, you’re going to be ok,” König smiled, gently holding your cheek and stroking it. “You’re going to be ok and you’re going to recover. You’re going to get seen to by the doctors, and you’ll rest up and before you know it you’ll be coming home with me. Yeah? You remember our trip? You’re going to be ok. You’re going to come back to Austria with me, ok?”

Finally you were in heaven. It felt so so real. It felt safe. You inhaled deeply and relaxed back, smiling contentedly to yourself. That was everything that you’d wanted for days. You craved loving gestures like a ravenous addict, the yearning had burnt in your heart for days. 

“No! Stop that, keep your eyes open!”

You hadn’t even realised you’d closed them. You blinked sleepily and drew in a deep breath, but the yellow light couldn’t compete with the cool darkness. You craved the shade of rest, wanted to nuzzle into the black. 

“Darling please. If you fall asleep now you might not wake again and I don’t know what I’ll do. Please! Please stay with me! You told me you wouldn’t leave me again, Sneak, you promised! Stop this!”

You frowned. Through the last dregs of light remaining you could see his eyes streaming with tears. His chest was heaving with effort to keep himself upright. His hand was wrapped around your shoulder now, and his other had joined your other side. König was clutching onto you like a little boy lost, but you could do nothing to help him. You felt so weak. You could barely hold your lids open anymore, never mind comfort anyone. 

Why couldn’t he just relax into the warmth like you? You could both lie in the darkness together, bodied fused in the nothing, just floating. You frowned. 

Why was he trying to make you hold on? Didn’t he know that if you woke again you’d be back inside the cell, tied up and shivering like a beaten dog. You didn’t want to go back to that. You wanted to stay in your dream forever now. This was it, you decided.

“Nein! Bitte verlass mich nicht. Ich flehe dich an, bitte bleib!” König sobbed, his voice overtaken by sad gasping breaths. “Please…keep your eyes open. Bitte…please…stop…bitte…Nein…”

Distantly you wanted to remind him that he needed to talk to you in English, but even talking seemed like some far off concept.

You shook your head and lay back into the darkness fully, swaying into the eternal night. You wished König wasn’t so sad. You wished your last dream had been a more pleasant one…but it didn’t matter.

It was just a dream.

Don’t cry König… you’ll find me no matter where I go…

-☠️-

I got pain an' experience... an' you got heart -- kinda remind me of Marciano, ya do.

“How’re things? Any progress?”

“I’ve noticed some twitching, but the doctors keep saying I’m seeing things. They keep blaming it on lack of sleep.”

Rocky, when I was fightin' it was the dirtiest racket goin', see. Pugs like me was treated like fightin' dogs -- throw ya in the pit an' for ten bucks ya try to kill each other.

“...I know it’s difficult, but you need to rest too. You’ve been holed up in here alone with these movies on repeat for god knows how long now. It’s not good for you, mate.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what’s good for me. The doctors said familiar people and sounds will help. Rocky will help. Being here will help.”

“I know but...If-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘if’ Sneak wakes up.”

-

Do you feel you have a chance?

Maybe

“König, enough's enough. Get yourself downstairs, jump in that fucking taxi and go to the hotel. Don’t come back till you’ve gotten that wretched smell off you and do something about the bags under your eyes.”

“For the last time I’m not going! I saw a finger spasm. It really moved!”

“I’m sure you’ve seen pink elephants and all sorts by now, sunshine. Fuck off and go look after yourself. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

“No! I won’t do it!”

“For god’s sakes do you want to stink Sneak awake? C’mon, look at yourself. Don’t you think you’ll scare them if they wake up and see you like this?”

“I don’t care! I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!”

-

Get outta my life both of ya's.

“Look, I know we don’t really get on but…I bought you a tea. Can I sit for a bit?”

“Are you going to try and make me leave too?”

“Jesus, no. Just wanted to come check in. They keep sayin’ you’re seeing movement…”

... It's cold outside, Paulie.

“I am seeing movement. Today it was a blink, I’m sure of it.”

“Well, that’s good, hm? What’re the doctors sayin’? Do they think there’ll be any change?”

“The doctors never want to reveal much.”

He's scum from the corner, I didn't raise ya to hang with no bum!

“Do you ever get tired of Rocky being on all the time? It’d drive me nuts watching the same thing over and over all day.”

“I barely notice it anymore.”

“Huh.”

-

“Sneak please, I’m begging you. You have to give me something…I’ve been watching you for so long now and you’ve never been so still. Just give me something so I can keep going, yeah? Anything…bitte.”

-

“You know I was looking out at the stars a minute ago. It reminded me of when we sat together that night and looked up at the sky together. Remember that, darling? You fixed my hair for me. I could use that again now. I almost broke my comb trying to put it through my hair yesterday. I suppose maybe I should listen to your team, hm? Garrick and MacTavish offered to sit with you for a little while tonight… Maybe you’d like to have some company with someone else for a bit. Maybe you’d be better off without me, hm?”

-

It don't matter if I lose... Don't matter if he opens my head...The only thing I wanna do is

go the distance -- That's all.

“I’ve tried it all and still you won’t wake up for me! What will it take Sneak? What will it fucking take! I’ve done everything and still it isn’t enough! Why am I not enough! Is it because of what I did that day? Is this my penance? Are you running away from me again? Goddamn it, I can’t take this, wake up Sneak! Just open your eyes!”

-

I love you -- I love you -- I love you…

“Fuckin’ hell, is this still on?”

“Ghost!”

“You know why it’s on.”

“Think I could recite it from memory by now.”

“You’re not helpin’, LT. Leave him alone.”

“Fuck me, there’s only so many times you can listen to that numbskull’s voice. Let the arsehole say Yo! Adrian and turn it off.”

“Well then, it sounds like you can’t recite it from memory then.”

“What?”

“‘Yo! Adrian’ - That’s from Rocky two. He didn’t say it in the first one, see? The movie is over now.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

-

“I was thinking earlier…you said before that you hated not knowing my name. You said that I shared everything with you, except that and it…it killed you not to know me completely. I don’t know why I had to be so stubborn about it now, I suppose it's just not a name I like to hear very much. Apart from my mother, it just reminds me of people I’d rather not think about…but I think if i ever heard you say it I’d like it. Do you still want to know it? What if I told you now, would you wake up?”

-☠️-

Swirling mist danced behind your lids. There was an electric current somewhere sparking in a breeze, you were floating along on it, your skin tingled and your spine burned with the fizz of it. You felt yourself twinge, felt a groan building in the back of your throat even though you couldn’t hear it. There was a vibration running down your body, it built and thrummed through you, undulating with the electricity. 

You liked it. You enjoyed getting to float freely, loved the temporary bliss of your shadowy escape. There was no pain there in the darkness, just whooshes and whisps of feeling and giddy deliriousness. An endless drifting cycle that felt like it could go on for the rest of time. However implausible that would be to a sane person. 

Ultimately it didn’t last forever though - eventually you felt yourself sinking.

You frowned. No. You didn’t want to sink, you didn’t want to go into the depths, you wanted to remain in the clouds. You hated the falling sensation, you hated the burning that built in your throat, hated the aches that broke out all over your back as if it were cracked glass. You especially disliked the crusty feeling behind your eyes. 

You scrunched your eyelids furiously, gritting your teeth when you couldn’t relieve the sensation. With a strangled moan and no small amount of effort you cracked your eyes open. Somehow you resisted the urge to scream. Maybe you were too weak to do anything like that just yet, but your body wasn’t above holding it in, waiting to survey your surroundings first. 

You blinked furiously into the light. The room you were in was disgustingly fucking bright, clinically bright. The shocking white glare flooded your vision and kept you fluttering your eyelids for a moment, continuously disturbing the layer of gunk that had built in the gloopy corners of your eyes. The world was in stark contrast to the one you’d just emerged from. What was painless and empty before was now bursting to life with sensation. 

Fuck. 

There were so many acidic scents and weird feelings around you. Your body felt like it was repressurising, your lungs were reacclimating to your surroundings. Through it all, you wanted to reach up and wipe your face so badly. There was no way you could muster the strength though. You didn’t have enough energy, it was all being used toward your growing awareness. 

Why were you so weak? Why couldn’t you move? Where were you? 

The questions clawed at your mind and had your brain scrambling until it burnt. There weren’t many memories to help you out. When you tried to think of where you were last, your head came up just as blank as the ceiling above you. That’s when you realised there was only one way you could get any answers. 

You would have to move.

For some reason your instincts were telling you not to talk, not to draw attention to yourself. You weren’t sure why, but you sure as fuck weren’t going to go aginst your gut at a time like that. 

You sucked in a silent breath and steeled yourself. Then you took in another. Then another. You breathed in and out and kept up a steady rhythm until you felt you’d gathered every miniscule ounce of strength you had and finally you put it all into twisting your neck around. You grunted out in pain, but kept yourself quiet, swivelling and sighing all you could until you were greeted with something other than ceiling. 

A lightning shock of messy blonde hair. A black mask. A big scarred face gently slackened into a sleepy frown. 

Your heart leaped in your chest. You couldn’t remember much, but one thing was for sure - you knew exactly who was sitting across from you then. 

It brought a smile to your sore cracked lips. The corners twitched up and your heart jumped around in your chest like a parading cheerleader. Next thing you knew, something from somewhere next to you, something started to furiously beep. It filled your head and ricocheted through your ears, and more importantly startled the man across from you out of his slumber. 

“Ah Oida! Doctor, nurse! The monitor its-”

König looked at you then and you could’ve sworn his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. The world went still. 

You smiled softly at him and watched on as he stayed frozen in his tracks, looking like a perfect picture of fear and disbelief. The room felt like it’d been filled with gas, like it was seconds from ignition. He gaped at you in the heavy silence. 

“Am I…Is this…Is this real?” he asked fearfully. 

You smiled wider then and blinked a couple times. You couldn’t rely on your voice to work, it felt like your gullet was filled up with gravel. Talking was going to be a luxury, you could tell. It already felt like a miracle getting to lay eyes on your man again, but it wasn’t one you were taking for granted. From the few moments you’d had, you could tell you’d been out for a while.

“My love! It’s really you, you’re really awake!” König laughed. 

You mustered a tiny nod from your depleted energy reserves. The second you moved you sent König running toward you. 

His boots slapped down on the squeaky tiled floors, with the force he sped to you it felt like he was going to put his foot through the floor. Though you couldn’t focus too much on that, because soon enough he was on you, arms clamping around you as if he’d never let go again. 

It hurt so bad to have him wrap himself so tightly round you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. Strangely it was comforting to feel pain from something good. And man did it feel good. It felt like you’d been pulled from the ice, like you were warm again. Safe. You were home. 

It made you all the more aware that you really were alive. 

“König what the fuck are you doing? You can’t squeeze sneak awake! The doctors are saying you’re causing a commotion in here, what’s going on?”

You smiled wider than you ever thought possible and looked past König’s heaving body and toward the source of the gruff commanding voice. It was a voice for sore ears. 

“I don’t need to squeeze Sneak awake, Captain,” König giggled, his entire body vibrating with his maddened laughter. 

“Fuckin’ hell you’ve finally crossed the border fully into looney land,” Price growled. 

“No! No, see for yourself. See!”

König detached from you, allowing you some more space to breathe again, and you took the opportunity gratefully. However you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose when you finally caught the pungent smell that had clung to the air around you. Was that…König?

“What are you talking about? What- fucking christ alive!”

You broke out of your hazy thoughts and made eye contact with Price, almost breaking your silence with a fit of laughter when he did the same thing as König. His mouth hung open, his unusually clean shaven face looking thin and haunted from the second he realised that König hadn’t gone mad from grief. He dropped his shivering skinny arms and his whole hospital gown clad body shot up stick straight. 

“Bloody hell It’s really…Sneak’s really…”

“See! I told you! I told you all!” König grinned. “I said there had been movement. I told you that Sneak would fight.”

König’s stance was victorious, his eyes were ablaze with pride. It made your chest wrench to see him so happy. Something told you that he hadn’t been doing well at all. If his greasy hair and fierce aroma were anything to go by. At least he would be able to fix that. 

You weren’t so sure that you were going to be fixed anytime soon. 

All of a sudden, as if awakened by your thoughts, a horrible tearing jolt worked itself through your throat and splintered down your back. It forced a pathetic squeak of pain from your lips and soon the two men were rushing to the door screaming and shouting for someone to come do something as your body heaved and trembled. The alarm and the crazed beeping from the machines only made your condition worsen, the shouting rattled your ears and rung through your head like a gong. 

A nurse was by your side in minutes, shaking a little as König stood beside her, urging her to do something. You were in too much pain to pity her though. Your entire being was in atrophy. Chills and hot flashes worked their way through your skin and horrible zipping sparks jumped all around your body, directing themselves toward your tired lungs. 

Though soon the trauma ended, and your pain dulled down into a light throb until eventually you felt like you were on a new plane. All the edges in the room appeared hazy and everything seemed to ebb and blur. At first it didn’t feel much better than the agony, but eventually you grew used to it, letting yourself lay back into the soft sheets and smile dopily into the skinny pillow you’d been given. 

“Sneak? Sneak!”

“König,” you mouthed, floating steadily back into the darkness. 

 -☠️-

You’d had a few more encounters like that until you were finally able to stay awake without being shot up with drugs like a dying horse. 

The pain started to get more manageable with time, and of course you were able to motivate yourself with seeing all of your loved ones again. König was always there, bar the times you had to raspily whisper shout at him to go take a bath or to go get some rest. He never would leave you alone to sleep though, opting instead to lay down on the empty hospital cot next you. He’d strong armed a young doctor into getting it into your room of course. 

Price visited quite a lot too. He was in the room next to yours, thoroughly displeased that they weren’t giving him the all clear to go back to work. He groused that he was just fine and that the bloody doctors didn’t know what they were saying, going on about how he’d been a Captain long enough and he knew better than them that his body was ready to go home and heal there. You both knew it was a lie though. Price was as sick as you, even if he was mostly able to walk and talk. You could see it behind his eyes. 

You knew well enough what was lurking in there, because you had the same sickness yourself. It was there when strangers came to touch you and check up on you, the doctors that were only trying to care for you. It was there when the lights went out at night. It was there lurking in the shadows. It was there every time you were forced to get a wash. You screamed bloody murder the first time you were awake for a sponge bath, almost choked up blood you were so terrified of the water. Even the sound of it sloshing at the edges of the bucket was enough to send you into a panic attack. It was a nightmare even having to drink the stuff. 

König took it upon himself to look after every facet of your wellbeing after that wash. He bathed you, he fed you when you were finally able to have solid food, and he practically barked like a rottweiler at anyone that tried to touch you without letting him know what it was for. As much as you tried to tell him it was alright and that he didn’t have to do all that for you, he’d shake his head with indignance everytime and shush you with a million platitudes. He said he’d do anything for you. He would serve you until the minute you sent him away, which wasn’t very often, but it was necessary to tell him to eat or get himself a shower. 

Price had confessed to you one night that he had reacted much the same as you after they’d brought him in. König had been sent away, and so your Captain sat on the foot of your bed drinking tea from a wonky paper cup, occasionally grimacing with his weird naked face as the bitter after taste sunk in. You were still getting used to seeing him without a beard, even after all you’d been through, that was still completely out of the ordinary. 

“It’s the only reason I drink this utter shit,” he’d remarked, drawing the tea close to his lap. “I’d rather have something with a taste to it. Something with a bit of colour.”

“Glad to know its not just me,” you’d said bitterly. 

Your voice was still raspy when you spoke, the doctors told you it would take a while to heal, you just had to keep your voice to a whisper for a while. Apparently your throat had suffered so much trauma that you were lucky you were getting to speak at all after what you’d been through. Not that you felt particularly lucky. 

“You know…when we go back we’ll have to get tested…medical tests, psych evals.”

Your lips parted and you sucked in a low breath. In the back of your mind you hadn’t forgotten that Price was going to waive your little misstep with König. You were technically allowed to go back. That aside though, would you really be capable? Could you pass a psych eval? You screamed bloody murder most nights because of the awful nightmares you were having. Your body was frail and your scars were deep. Not all of them would heal. 

“You’d let me back?” you asked slowly. 

“Well, if you managed to pass - of course,” Price shrugged. “I was serious when I said that the whole mess with König didn’t matter, I think we’ve been through enough together that none of that means anything anymore. The most important factor is, do you want to go back?”

You caught eyes with him then, locked into his hard stare. His blue eyes were shining dully in the dim yellow night light. You could see the hollows in his cheeks more prominently now, the shadows were digging their palms into his face. He was right - you had been through a lot together.

You weren’t so sure about your abilities anymore, if you would have the nerve to get out on the field again. A dark part of you also wondered about the alternative, what if you’d enjoy it too much? What if you’d want to take your vengeance out on those who hadn’t even done anything to you? 

Even through the haze of your memories of being rescued, you could still remember the way you stared at Rousseau's crushed up body and the feeling of your smile still haunted you.

Of all the things that that man had done to you, the most horrific of all was the taking of some small part of your humanity. It brought a shiver to your core each time you thought of his head being smashed against the wall, and how you couldn’t even imagine telling König to stop even if you’d had the ability at the time.

It was something you desperately tried not to dwell on, lest your chest cave in from the pressure. 

Both you and Price wordlessly let the uncomfortable silence linger. Soon enough he cast his gaze away and flickered his attention over to the TV. It was playing a crappy sitcom that neither of you had seen before, nevertheless you were both as captivated with it as if it were your favourite. Neither of you brought up coming back again that night. It made for too many questions that you didn’t have the answer to yet. 

It was easier to pretend that everything was going to be fine. Your head felt clearer when you plastered on a smile and acted like everything was normal. That was the tactic when Ghost, Gaz and Soap finally came to visit and it worked well then.

They’d all flooded into the room with faces like slapped arses. Gaz and Soap were fighting each other to apologise to you first while Ghost stood solemnly by your side giving you one of the sorriest looks you’d ever seen from those hard blue eyes of his. You weren’t going to have any of it though. They didn’t deserve to drown in their guilt because of a series of reckless choices that you’d made. 

“All of you have got to stop apologising. You already did enough getting us out of there, there’s nothing more to be said about it,” you rasped, quickly looking over to the jug of water placed strategically away from you. 

Ghost gave Soap and gaz a withering look, before he turned and fetched a small glass, filling it only a third of the way before steadily handing it to you. It barely shifted in his careful hands - it made you realise that someone must’ve filled him in. The realisation had your heart stuttering, it had revealed a crack in your normal facade. 

Despite that though, you gave him a small nod and gently tipped the water back, greedily letting the water soothe your burning throat. Drinking it never completely relieved you of course. Your throat remained scratchy no matter what you had, it would still take some time before you fully recovered. 

“We played our part in your capture, Sneak. There’s no denying it,” Ghost said. “Me more than anyone else. I put you in danger and I can’t let you dismiss that. I let my feelings get in the way of the mission, and ultimately that was the whole reason Price had set the rules he did with you in the first place. I’m truly sorry for what happened, and there isn’t anything that’ll make my part in what happened alright.”

“Aye, we all did, we all put you in danger. It was a fuckin’ big shock, Sneak. It didn’t feel good knowing you might’ve been leaving the team for someone we thought was…well it doesn’t matter what we thought. Point is we acted out of line and we do have to apologise,” Soap said seriously, placing his hand by yours on the bed. “Im sorry too.”

“It wasn’t our place to punish you,” Gaz said firmly, “We acted like fucking children and it almost cost your life. I can’t say sorry enough.”

“You were barely even with me on that mission!”

“Well I didn’t exactly stick up for you when I got the chance, did I?”

You started to roll your eyes, but the look that Gaz gave you was enough to stop them before they peaked at the skyline. You closed them instead for a second and then pursed your lips, taking a moment to consider their words.

Everything in you wanted to tell them all to shut up about it so that you wouldn’t have to think too much about that awful day, but you knew well enough that you couldn’t ask everyone to put it behind them just so that you could deny it. What happened happened. You had to face it. If not just for yourself, then for the men that had risked their lives coming to get you and Price back. For your brothers. 

Though you didn’t have to unravel right at that exact moment, you decided. That could wait for a time that you could at least fetch your own water for yourself, or when you could take a shower without König standing outside of it. 

“Well, seeing as we’re talking apologies…” you sighed, opening your eyes again and looking at each of them with serious measure. “Let’s get into reparations. What’d you all get me?”

“Get you?” Gaz repeated. 

“Yeah, where are my ‘sorry you almost died, woops!’ balloons?”

“Oh, away n’ bile yer heid!” Soap groused. 

“You didn’t even get a little bear with hand marks round it’s neck?” you grinned. 

“Well we found one, but it had big red handprints on its arse as well, and that just didn’t seem appropriate,” Ghost remarked. 

“Jesus, LT!” Soap snapped. 

“Yeah, König might take it as us flirtin’ and snap our arms off,” Gaz sniggered. 

“Oh for…” Soap groaned, and put his hands over his eyes. 

You laughed properly for the first time in a long time, and most joyously of all you didn’t fly into a coughing fit straight after. It flowed freely from you like notes from a tuba, still not quite your usual timbre but fuck it, it was music. Your body lightened and your head cleared, it was like an oppressive fog was beginning to lift. 

Even if you weren’t coughing by the end of it, your throat still dried up again though you didn’t need to worry. Ghost got you another glass of water and handed it to you with a softened expression.

You took the glass from him once more and sunk into a familiar rhythm with the guys again, transporting yourself away from the four stark white walls of the hospital room and away on their adventures. They filled you in on what was happening back at base, told you about their latest antics with the recruits and by the end of it you were so delirious from happiness, the nurse had to shoo them out so that you could rest. 

König came in shortly after them, freshly washed and fed, and he lay down in his cot across the room. His footsteps had woken you, even when he hadn’t meant to, you were still so hypersensitive to movement. Even in the darkness you could make out his mountainous shape as it rose and curved from the bed and it brought a little smile curving onto your lips. Your protector was never far. 

You sleepily invited him over and gladly he came speed walking to your bed. His messy was flopping in his excitement and the site of him reminded you so much of a cartoon you couldn't help but laugh a little.  

The trilling sound of it had him smiling, and soon after he poured you a cup of water and let you drink before fastening his arms around you and cuddling into your back. Your personal stove was on full heat. He was assuming his faithful position by your side. 

You sighed and relaxed into him, wiggling to get yourself right before frowning when you felt something sharp poking into your leg. What was that? You drew your hand back and stopped at König’s pocket, tilting your head when you slid your hand in and found the source. 

“Oh, Scheiße,” König huffed.

“What?”

König’s body went stiff as a board and you could practically feel the air harden around you. You were confused as to why he was there until you brought your hand to your face and discovered the cause. 

It was the wooden bird from the market. You tilted it gently and inspected it, quickly realising what the cause of his sorry state was. It’s little wing had been broken and glued back on, a permanent scar had been left on its frail body. Something that was all too familiar. 

“It’s just like me,” you joked.

“What?” König somehow managed to get stiffer. 

You turned around and faced him, gasping when you realised how upset he was. His entire expression soured, his eyebrows knitting into a deep frown. His shoulders sagged with grief and from behind his bandana you swore you could see his lips trembling, could sense his breath puffing out raggedly from behind the material. The pain on his face struck through your skull like a mallet. 

Shit. 

“You know…It’s got a little damage, but its ok. You put it back together,” you shrugged, trying fruitlessly to keep your tone light and even. 

“It was only broken because of me,” König whimpered. “And I haven’t even properly fixed it.” 

His eyes glazed over, spacing out into whatever terrible thoughts had been tugging at his subconscious. You’d felt your heart break then, cracking down the middle at the thought of him blaming himself. It was bad enough when the 141 were filling up the room with their apologies, but it was a whole other thing to see König folding under the pressure of his guilt. The boys had each other, but he didn’t have anyone other than you. 

“Hey,” you said gently, voice still a little rough. “Listen to me. C’mon look at me. König I need you to know that it’s not your fault, what happened wasn’t because of you…I don’t even know why you’d think it’s your fault, but ultimately it comes down to me. My stupid actions. You tried to do your best by me that day and I fought you because I was scared. I couldn’t stop worrying about all the damage I’d done and in the end I only made it all worse. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, frowning as he searched your face. 

“Of course I’m sure. That day I got captured was a shit show, König. After you did everything you possibly could to make sure I got back safe and sound again, and… well I don’t even know if I can even count on myself not having more dreams or hallucinations, but I’m sure I heard you everyday that you were by my bedside. I could feel you when I was asleep. You were there with me even when I was getting moved around all those prisons. You’ve been my anchor König, you’ve been the one that’s kept me here fighting. You’re my reason to go on, so don’t you lie there blaming yourself for what’s happened.”

“How can I not?” König sighed. “It’s my fault things got so complicated between us in the first place. I was the reason that Price banned you from having a relationship with me, It was my fault for being so bloodthirsty. Fuck, I could barely even stop myself from killing Rousseau, I thought- I thought that, well I worried that you would’ve spent your last moments horrified with me for what I’d done to him that day.” 

“Oh fuck no, don’t be stupid!” you snapped. 

König’s brows shot up and his eyes grew big as saucers. You swore you could see your hardset gaze reflected clearly in the blue of them, burning holes through that layer of guilt he’d shrouded himself in. How dare he think that he was your ruin when he was the one that saved you? 

“Don’t you dare put all the blame on yourself, König. You can’t think like that. I have just as much freedom over my actions as you do, it was equally my fault for getting Price on my back, and it was down to my actions that day that got me captured. As for Rousseau, well, I would’ve splattered him on the concrete myself if I had the energy.”

“Sneak!”

“It’s true,” you spat. “I know I shouldn’t think like that, but it’s true. I know I’m normally the one that tries to do right, but do you know what? After all the wrong I’ve done, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not capable of the same things as you. We both have violent jobs, and we both carry horrible truths that haunt us. Don’t turn me into one of your ghosts König, don’t let the guilt fester and eat you up. I love you and I’d do anything to make sure you were safe, and I know that you’d do the same for me. You brought me back from the brink and now because of it we can lay here together and we can make a future for ourselves. We can go to Austria and we can decide to do whatever we want with the time that we have König. That’s all that matters. Don’t shrink from the past and get upset at the scars left behind. We have to learn to accept it.”

You thrust the bird toward him and he took it, scooping it into his hands ever so delicately. It was as if you’d handed him your heart. His breaths were soft and his eyes were filled with tears. 

There was a single beat where you worried he might try to walk away, but instead he gently placed the bird down on your over-bed table, wood hitting wood producing a soft whispery sound in the near silent room, and then he wrapped his arms around you again. He held you tight and kept you melded to him, fusing you with his shaking body. 

He cried soundlessly and let his body shake most of it out, all of the terror and the pain and the stress he’d been holding onto was slowly being released through you. His tears ran thick and hot and collected at his mask, reddening his cheeks at the edges of it. You slid it down for him eventually and cleared away the salty tracts, dabbing at his cheeks with the corner of your crisp white bed sheets. 

“You have no idea…I…I feel so selfish saying this, but you don’t know how lonely I’ve felt this past month. I’ve just felt like I’ve had all of this pain trapped inside and every time I’ve seen you suffer since waking up I just- I’ve felt like shit for thinking that I deserve an ounce of comfort when you’re the one that’s been through the worst.”

“Don’t think like that König, please. You always have me to turn to, you’re not being selfish for feeling hurt in all this. You got burnt too and it’s not fair you going it alone ok? You can talk to me, König. You can always talk to me. I love you, I love you so much, and I don’t want you bottling everything up just to protect me. I’m not broken, you don’t have to turn me into your next mission. I’m healing, and I think- I think we both need to heal. Y’know?”

König took a stuttering breath and nodded, his lips curling downward in a unique kind of sadness you’d never seen on him before. Now that his hair was flopping over his forehead and his half mask was wound down and dishevelled on his neck, he looked so young. His face was shadowed with his innocence, it shone out across his eyes. 

You pressed your palms into his cheeks and smoothed your thumbs over the irritated salty skin, pressing kisses where you could to ease the pain. His face was scratchy from the thick stubble there, but you didn’t care. It was more important that you soothe the burning ache inside König. You had to show him that you could be there for him too, even if you were still physically weak.

He was your reason to remain strong. He was the reason you were taking steps every day to try and get better. He really was your anchor. Your König. 

“Somehow we’ll make it through this…” you whispered, finally giving his swollen lips a much needed kiss.

He closed his eyes and leaned into it. The pressure in the atmosphere seemed to lighten, your lips crushed together like petals and you bathed in the calm that overflowed in you. It finally felt like things really would be ok. You were together now and you didn’t need to constantly think about your next steps, you just had to be. That was all that mattered for then. 

Your kiss ended a little while after, your breath not quite back to normal yet. Your chest panted with the lack of air, but soon you settled again and smiled. König matched your smile and his dazzling blue eyes gleamed like jewels in the low light. He rested against the pillow and stared at you in awe, as if he was finally seeing someone he hadn’t gotten to be with in a very long time. 

“Do you really think you heard me when you were…asleep?” he asked, tentatively breaking the silence as if it were fragile glass. 

He could never bring himself to say ‘in a coma’.

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I think I dreamed a lot, but I can’t really remember. I swear I really could hear Rocky sometimes, but then Price was very eager to make a point of saying how insane you’d driven everyone with it so…who knows,” you laughed. “He’s a vivid storyteller I guess.”

König chuckled a little and shook his head. Looking a little guilty as he thought about the amount that movie had been on. He’d already confessed to you it’d be a long time before he’d ever be able to watch it again. 

“You don’t remember me speaking to you though? Don’t remember the things I’d told you?”

You tilted your head at him, the movement rustling the stark sheets beneath you. 

“I feel like I can remember you saying you loved me and you wanted me to open my eyes, but I can’t really remember anything specific. Nothing I couldn’t have just as well have dreamt,” you shrugged. “Why?”

“I…well I thought…ugh, it’s ridiculous. Nevermind,” he sighed, looking toward the wall and away from your questioning gaze. 

“Aw, c’mon König! What is it? You can tell me,” you pressed, running your hand through a section of his fluffy hair. 

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His face washed with relief, his body relaxed. He let go of his anxieties. 

“Well…I told you my name a little closer to the end of your sleep. I thought that maybe you might’ve remembered it if you were coming to awareness.”

You froze, stopping your calming gestures in your tracks as soon as you realised what you’d missed out on. 

“You what! You told me your name and now you’re just casually throwing that out there?”

“Well I was desperate, Sneak. I thought maybe it’d motivate you to wake up, I dunno. I said it was ridiculous,” he huffed, opening his eyes back up again. 

“Well, do I get to know it now?” you demanded, rolling over him so that he was caged between your arms. 

He widened his eyes, and even in the darkness you could make out the rosy tint that had broken out across his cheeks. He breathed a little quicker. 

“Aw, c’mon!” you begged, giving him your widest doe eyes you could muster. “Please.”

He sighed and bit his lip, trying to avoid your stare, but it didn’t work. He could feel the heat of your eyes on him and so he gave up. He puffed out a defeated breath and he smiled a queasy smile. He was about to speak, but instead found himself opening his mouth and closing it again, sealing his lips shut tightly. 

“Are you really still scared to share it with me?” you asked, softening your harsh stare at him. 

He opened and closed his mouth again and finally he shook his head at himself. 

“I’m not scared, no. It just feels…I’m not sure. I don’t really like to say it. I Will tell you though. I don’t ever want anything to happen again and live knowing that I didn’t hear you say it. I’m sure I’ll love to hear you say it.”

“Well you could always write it down…I can’t promise I’ll pronounce it right if its got some weird Austrian spelling, but I can-”

“No, no,” he chuckled, taking one of your hands in his and stopping you before you could go off on a tirade. “I won’t need to write it down. I’ll tell you.”

“Ok, well…when you’re ready.”

He breathed out and traced your fingers with his thumb. The massive digit stroked featherlight touches into your skin and you smiled at the fizzing sensation of it. His breath was warm on your neck, his chest was beating erratically from beneath you. It prompted you to climb down off him, keeping a grip of his hand all the same, but instead you took to lying next to him again. 

He smiled lazily as you settled by his side and he closed his eyes. You felt yourself strain as you listened to the buzzing quiet in the room, waiting to hear his name after all that time. 

“Matthias,” he whispered.

You instantly grinned, the single word lighting you up like a beacon. Your chest felt like it could burst. 

“Do I get a second name, Matthias?” you asked, pressing closer so you could kiss his cheek. 

He shivered next to you, his entire body buzzing. The static zipped right through the bed. He gave you a look he’d never given you before, the joy indescribable. 

“Luger,” he said gently. 

You bit your lip, not quite believing that you finally heard it.

“Not König then?”

“No, not König,” he murmured. “König was my mother’s maiden name. I started using it when I left the army. No ones called me by my real name in a long time”

“Huh… Matthias Luger,” you said in a whisper, feeling conspiratorial. “It suits you.”

“It suits me when you call me it,” he smiled, cuddling himself into the bed. 

“Should I call you Matthias when we’re alone now?” you pondered, letting your thoughts escape out loud.

He breathed out a laugh and pulled you close to him, forcing you to sink into the bed with him. It didn’t require too much coercion however. You were more than happy to lie there with him.

“You can call me whatever you like as long as you stay with me, darling,” he whispered. “Don’t ever run off like that again, you promise?”

You sighed and cuddled closer into his body, gradually letting yourself fade into the night with him. 

“I promise…Matthias,” you whispered, not helping yourself from saying it just one last time. 

-☠️-

The darkness kept a hold of you both for some time after that, after all was said and done. However during the course of your lying in bed together, it released its hold on you soon enough, and before you knew it the sun was raising its bright arms into the sky and beginning to wave good morning. You could see it out in the hallway, gently tickling at the floors and beginning to shift its eyes onto your room. You were dozing on and off, but now that you’d seen the light you were fully awake, flickering your lashes at the golden rays as they bounced off the blue linoleum. 

“Morning.”

König yawned next to you, stretching himself out and uncurling his arms. His back cracked like a firework seconds later, and he wrapped himself around you again, snuggling into the back of your T-shirt (one of his that he’d supplied you with). You rolled your eyes and smiled, feeling your heartbeat pitter patter. 

“You sure it’s morning for you?” You asked breathily. 

“Mm, I’ll be awake properly in a few minutes,” he grunted. “This just feels nice.” 

“Aw, so cute when you’re sleepy,” you cooed, rolling around so that you could see his shuttered lashes. 

He moaned his disapproval at being called cute, but he didn’t say much. He was verging far too much on the side of sleep rather than waking and you knew it would take far more to prod the bear back to life. 

You grinned slyly to yourself and bit your lip. Something of your old sense of mischief was returning to you.

“You’re just so sweet you’re all tired like that,” you continued.

He grunted again. 

“My little Schnucki cuddle bear…my lil matty watty-”

At that, König wrenched his eyes open and shot you a warning look. It was written all over his face that he had no idea how to take his revenge with you still in your weakened state, but you knew well enough he’d think of something. You took to giggling at his frowning face and lay yourself back against the pillow, innocently staring up at him as plotted away. 

“You know if you’re going to call me disgustingly cutesy names, I will have to leave.” 

“You would never,” you snorted, “I have to shoo you away just to get a shower most of the time.”

“Well, maybe I’m in a showering mood this morning,” he said, smiling viciously at you. 

His eyes were pointed at you like arrows. He pulled up his mask and sat up without breaking eye contact, then he tilted his head at you. A particularly smarmy look crossed his face. He’s clearly thought of a good way to get his revenge. 

“Yes, I think maybe I’ll head out for a little bit,” he shrugged.

“Fine,” you said, playing along with his little game. “I’m sure the nurses will be around with food soon. Price will be up and about too.”

“Mm, that will be good for you,” he said with a nod. “I think what might be good for me is getting myself a lovely breakfast. I’ll forgo the hospital canteen though, that stuff's rubbish. I think instead there's a lovely Italian deli that’ll be opening soon. One that I think you’ve heard of. It does lovely breakfast food!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“And you’d bring something back from the deli then?”

“Why would I do that?”

You shoved at him playfully, too weak and tired to make much impact, but nonetheless enough to send him laughing back onto the bed. The booming sound had you giggling immediately, and even while all the excitement was hurting your throat you didn’t care. He pulled you into him and cuddled you close, forcing you back to the bed, though he didn’t actually have to use much strength. 

He held you like that until Price sleepily stumbled in with his morning tea round and cleared his throat, forcing you both to part. Even if he did say he was fine with König, it was evident he wasn’t in love with watching you exchange affections. Even standing next to König seemed like an issue some days. 

König left then, making his usual excuses, promising to come back with something from the deli after all, and allowed Price to pull up a chair alone.

He was a lot more mobile now that he’d mostly healed, he still stood a little funny under the weight of his crushed back, but according to the physio (and maybe Price overexaggerating his diagnosis) he would be fine again in a few weeks. Judging by the way he grunted when his back connected with the hard leather, you knew you were onto something assuming Price was being unusually optimistic.

“Making noises like that, you’ll be a sure candidate for desk duty, old man.”

Price shot you a glare and you bit your lip. He wasn’t going to abide by your cheek. 

“I can still send you to the latrines, Sneaky,” Price answered, slamming your flimsy takeaway tea down with a little too much force. 

“Oh yeah? I can imagine that’ll be a cushy job if I only have to clean your office.” 

“Fuck sake,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Now that you’d been through all that trauma together, you found yourself braving interactions with him that you never would’ve before. After seeing him bollock naked and covered in his own detritus, the sheen of his title had faded some. You were able to be braver.

You and he both knew that nothing he could threaten you with would be worse than what you’d already faced. It was that universally realised truth that meant you knew the bitter glare that he was directing you from behind his takeaway cup didn’t hold any real malice.

“Seriously though…Gaz told me you were thinking of going back in a couple weeks. Is that true?”

Price stopped mid sip and regarded you awkwardly. His eyes slanted downward to the floor and his palm rested on his sweats in defeat. It was still so odd seeing Price in pyjamas, almost weirder than seeing him naked. It made him look all the more uncomfortable in front of you. 

“Well, just on paperwork to start. I’m not bloody likely to pass a medical and I’ve got a series of psych evals and debriefs to get through, so yeah, I figure I may as well get ahead of it all.”

“You’ve got to tell them about what happened? Do I? Will they ask me to come in?” you asked, breath hitching with fear. “Will they come here?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’ve told them you’ll not be in until your health improves. Far as they’re concerned you’re barely talking right now,” he soothed. 

Your heartbeat wound down from its highly strung little dance. You breathed out a sigh of relief and picked up your cup of tea, breathing in the warm berry steam that wafted through the little opening in the top before you took a relieved sip. 

“Thanks…I don’t think I could face anything like that right now.”

“I barely can myself,” he muttered. “All those men giving me sorry looks like I’m a whipped dog. It’ll be hell. Still though, it’d be worse if I didn’t get to operate again. Needs must.”

You nodded, looking far beyond the pale white sheets that your head was directed towards. You didn’t have the same worries. You feared more than pitying looks, it was deeper than that for you. The real hell was having to relive what you’d gone through multiple times while blank faced suits noted down what had happened. The very idea made you want to bring up what little was in your stomach. 

“Have you given much more thought to coming back?” Price asked. 

You looked up at him and met his appraising look. His mouth quirked and his body tensed, he knew as well as you the answer was obvious. Obvious but complicated. 

“Honest answer? I’ve thought about it alot. At the end of the day I don’t even know if I’ll heal completely right yet. The fractures I’ve got are still bad and the physios keep looking at me like a tripped horse. I still can’t wash without König there. There’s a lot going on…”

“They’ll put you behind a desk if you tell them all that.”

“Maybe it’s the best place for me…I dunno. I’m not really sure of much right now, but I do know one thing - I’m not going to hide things anymore. I can’t hide my feelings just to try and get the work done, I’m not going to put people at risk because of the shit I’ve got bottled up. I’m never going to repeat the mistakes I made on that mission, Price. I’ve got too much to lose to ever do anything like that again.”

Price sighed and nodded, looking off into his own middle distance. It gave a sort of sagely quality, his crinkling eyes working against his younger years.

“I’ve asked and I can buy you three months,” he said suddenly, “You can take that time to heal and to think about things, see a shrink, do whatever you need to do. Come back to me then and give me an answer.”

“Three months?” you repeated. “To answer what? I don’t even know if I’ll be fully recovered.”

“You don’t need to be fully recovered…physically. You can be trained back to what you were, that’s not the issue. I just need to know if you can still do the job, and if you still want to do it. Take the time, think about things properly, hell go on that fuckin’ trip König wouldn’t shut up about and clear your head. After that, just come to me with an answer and even if it’s a no, I at least know that you got to think about your decision properly. I can make peace with it then.”

“You’re not keen on me saying no then?” you smiled, catching onto what he was doing. 

“I can see you leaning towards it and I’d rather you didn’t while you’re practically chained to the bed in a dour place like this. You’re a good soldier. You can recover from this and you can come back, if you want to. Get out of here as soon as you’re able and go away with König. Believe me when I tell you that I don’t doubt your ability for a second. You’ll get over the water stuff, you’ll overcome the shadows. If I can, then you can too. I don’t want to lose you, Sneak. So please, just promise me you’ll think about it, yeah?”

You sighed and gave him a nod, rubbing your thumb against the hot cardboard that barley kept your tea contained. It was almost blistering your skin, but the burning was a pleasant distraction from otherwise unpleasant thoughts. 

Price got up from his chair and put his hand on your shoulder, making sure that you acknowledged his meaningful look. His soft blue eyes cast a beam of light onto you, the wrinkles at the corner scrunching as he gave you a reassuring squeeze. His touch lingered long after he was gone, leaving you with just enough comfort to last until König returned. 

König did surreptitiously wander in minutes later, looking around warily before revealing his smuggled goods. He’d had to hide them in his hoodie like a pregnant lady, and just the sight of his overstuffed belly had you almost completely forgetting about what Price had discussed with you. You were happy to focus on better things. Afterall, you reasoned to yourself, it was Price that had told you to clear your head in the first place. 

“Ok, I couldn’t bring you Soup because I wasn’t willing to burn myself for you, but I did pick up your favourite panini and I got you a cake that might be a little squashed. Does the royal highness approve?”

You approved indeed. Anything was better than hospital food, but furthermore the deli food was better than anything. Immediately you grabbed for the panini and took a big grateful bite, barely just thanking König before you did so. It was just so good. Your eyelids shut tight as soon as you got your first taste of crusty bread and homemade melty butter. 

This was paradise. 

“Do I say enough how much I love you?” you murmured.

“Not at all,” König smirked, looking around the doorway for unwanted eyes before taking his own bite of panini from out of his mask. “It should be every word that leaves your mouth from now on.”

You snorted back a laugh and finished your bite. 

“I could do that, but your poor mother might think I'm a bit weird if I can only tell her how much I love you.”

König stopped eating and peered over at you, clearly forgetting all about his contraband treat. He regarded you seriously for a moment and pulled his chair closer, attention now completely focused on you. 

“You still want to go to Austria?”

“Well, the flights will need rebooked I imagine, but once I’m better? Of course!”

“But…didn’t you say you might need to report in soon?”

“Well, I spoke to Price about it all there and I told him the same thing I’ve said to you. I don’t know if I’ll go back fully. He didn’t want to accept that right away though, so he said he can give me three months. I figure I can be outta here a lot sooner than that. So what do you say? Still wanna show me home?”

König threw his panini down onto the table and pushed it roughly to the side, immediately taking his chance to wrap around you like a koala. He smiled brightly and he exhaled, his long thick arms not easing up as he constricted around you. 

“Do I say enough how much I love you?” König asked wryly. 

“Mm, I could stand to hear it a little more,” you sighed. 

He laughed lightly at that, you could feel it echoing around his chest. His warm puffs of breath landed hotly onto your neck. It had your eyelids fluttering closed, your own sandwich discarded somewhere next to König’s. You wrapped your arms around him in kind and revelled in the feeling of holding your universe close into your chest, letting everything else float away as you settled into the cloudy abyss once more. 

Even if you were unsure of where your future was going exactly, there was always going to be one constant. No matter what you faced, no matter what you decided, you would always have each other now. It didn’t matter that Price would come looking for your answer, it didn’t matter if the guys would be upset to hear you say no, it didn’t matter if you were nail bitingly eager and terrified in equal measure to say yes to Price.

König would be with you through it all, he could lend you his strength and you could give him your love and vice versa. You were your own team. Together you’d make contenders for anything. He was your rock and you were his light. You were going to be fighters until the end. 

[ajwild220]

Newt x Reader - May I braid your hair?

The sun shown down brightly on my back, causing beads of sweat to form under my hairline and along my forehead and soft earth enveloped my hands, getting under my fingernails. I gritted my teeth in effort as I once again pulled against a stubborn weed that had taken its home amidst the growing tomatoes.

The green color stripped onto my hands as I strained, the stem rubbing mercilessly against my palms. I took a breath, licking my salty lips and I blew my Y/H/C hair out of my face again. I would not be bested by a stupid weed. I glared at the tiny leafy thing, unfortunately for me weeds couldn’t be killed by looks alone. With a final great tug, the weed finally released itself from the earth. I landed on my rear end with a grunt narrowly avoiding smashing the next row of plants.

“You ok over there? You need rescuing from squash or something?” I heard Newts teasing voice a few rows over. 

“Very funny” I rolled my eyes somewhat playfully as I still sat in the moist earth. I couldn’t help but grin upon hearing his self-satisfied chuckle, although I’d never admit it.

I casually tossed the vanquished weed into my pail from my place in the dirt, panting a bit from the heat. I rubbed an itch on my face with the back of my hand, only resulting in dirt mixing with the warm dampness of my skin. It seemed quite tempting to sit here the rest of the day, hiding from the blazing sun underneath the leafy green plants, but before I could consider it, I heard soft footsteps, and a head of golden hair popped up from above me.

“Slacking off on the job I see.” He grinned brown eyes twinkling as he stood leaning on his shovel.

I playglared up at him blowing my hair out of my face, “I just pulled a very strong weed thank you very much.”

His eyebrow raised playfully “I don’t see any weed.” 

I grabbed a clot of dirt and threw it at him, he dogged. 

“Hey! Don’t get me all dirty.” 

“You deserved it. Besides you are already dirty” I grinned. 

“Well you aren’t exactly clean either, Love.” He was right of course but that didn’t stop me from sticking out my tongue at him. He started laughing

“So ladylike”

“Oh slim it you” 

Still chuckling he leaned his shovel against a post and gently stepped through the soft earth extending a dirty and calloused hand. I readily accepted and he pulled me up my hair sticking to my damp face and getting in my eyes and mouth. He looked on in amusement as I tried to spit out my hair but not get any dirt in my mouth or smear any on my already dirty face. When I finally accomplished this he just shook his head smiling,

“Time for a break.” 

He didn’t need to say it twice. I followed his lead easily through the rows of tomatoes, cabbage, beans, and the like, both of us careful not to tread on the growing plants. Newt led us over to a nearby tree where we had left some water and our discarded jackets. He plopped down out of the sun, his back to the tree, one knee bent and the other extended as he looked up, panting slightly from the heat. My cheeks were flushed and grimy, and beads of sweat dripped down my back and neck as I reached out for the cool jar of water.

Unscrewing the silver lid, I tilted it back and let the cool liquid flow down my throat and cool me from the inside out. I took a few more swigs adjusting myself to sitting on my heels as I tossed my wayward hair over my shoulder. Between the shade and the water, everything was much more comfortable, considering the sweltering day. After my next sip, Newt reached out silently asking for the jar and I passed it over. He drank just as deeply as I did pausing a bit to allow the liquid to do its work before he let out a contented breath. We sat in comfortable silence for a couple moments.

I started gently pulling at the grass beneath my fingertips, soaking in any small breeze that made its way under our tree. Newt had been silently observing me for a bit, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t really realize it until his sudden movements caught my eyes as he quickly stood, favoring his right leg. 

“Break over so soon?” I tried not to sound as disappointed as I felt.

“No, I just need to do something I’ll be right back.” With that he hobbled off quite fast, leaving me alone under the green canopy. I drank in these few rare moments of silence, gazing easily at the green leaves dancing above, even stealing the jar back from where Newt had left it and taking a couple more sips. When Newt returned swiftly his eyes were bursting with an idea. It was always that way with him, his brown eyes were so expressive you always had an idea of what he was thinking. He knelt down in front of me and waved me closer

“C’mere”

I furrowed my eyebrows confused. 

“C’mon love, sit.” He patted the grass right in front of him. Still a bit confused I more or less crawled over looking up into his brown eyes every so often to try to understand what he wanted. When I reached him, he said

“Now turn around and sit.” By now, I was horribly confused. “Will you just trust me?” I sighed and plopped down, awaiting further instructions. Now he seemed to hesitate before he asked, “Is it alright if I braid your hair? It’s been in your face all day and I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to worry about it.” I smiled even though he couldn’t see, I could tell he had been thinking about it and gotten excited, but now that I was actually sitting here, he realized it might be a strange request. 

“Of course Newt go for it.” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice and he picked up on it causing him to loose any worries he could have had. However before he started something struck me “Wait wait wait! Newt!” 

“Yeah?” I dropped my head back to look up at him since he was kneeling directly behind me. 

“Your hands are filthy! You are not touching my hair like that.”

A boyish grin spread across his face as he waved his clean hands in front of my face. “I washed them already Love” he was clearly proud of himself. I returned his smile and gave a small laugh dropping my head back down. 

“Alright then, you have permission to braid my hair.” 

I sat there patiently as his hands firmly but gently tilted my head up my eyes now peering up through the green leaves. I felt him rake his fingers through to get out all the tangles from our already long day. As his finger hit a snag I heard him wince for me “Sorry” apology dripped from his accent. It was just a small pull but he was so careful, trying not to let it happen again. It inevitably did however, as is the nature of my hair, and his response was the same. 

“It’s ok Newt it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“It feels like it would hurt.” I can see his furrowed eyebrows and concerned face from his voice alone and it made the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. 

“Newt it’s fine you don’t have to apologize, I promise it doesn’t hurt.”

“Ok” he breathed.

Moment later he hit another snag. “Sorry!”

“Newtttt” 

“Oh that’s right! I’m sorry Im sorry I didn’t mean to—“ he huffed in exasperation and I burst out laughing. His head popped around my shoulder so he could look me in the face, his expression slightly taken aback but also a bit teasing.

“And what are you laughing at?”

I tried to regain my breath amidst all the laughing. 

“You!”

“Me?” He feigned surprise.

“Yes you!” 

“I feel like I should be insulted” he laughed, grinning as he returned to running his fingers through my hair. My laughing calmed down as I enjoyed the delicate flow of his fingers once again. His fingers caught one again and I raised an eyebrow at the silence, a grin forming over my face.

“Newt! Stop apologizing.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted defensively.

“You did so, in your mind.” I dropped my head back to look up at him. His face was so absolutely horror-stricken I realized my guess was right. I started laughing so hard I fell over backward toppling into him slightly and falling onto the warm grass. 

“I just can’t win with you, can I, Love?” He had recovered a bit and sat chuckling at my state. 

“You really were apologizing in your head?” I wheezed. 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “I guess you know me too well, what am I ever going to do with you.” He had leaned back on his hands, and the admiring smile he gave me made me feel a glow growing from the inside out. I managed to push myself back up still catching my breath as I looked back into his beaming eyes. 

“You sir,” I slapped the ground behind me to signal him closer, “can finish braiding my hair.” 

He sat up and knelt directly behind me once again, ready to begin braiding, and with a small smile in his voice, I heard a quiet “yes, Love.”