#I tend to make ocs in pairs don’t I?

[thewiglesswonder]

You didn’t think the Earth Protection Force only had a Bishop, did you? Who plays chess without all the pieces? Say hello to Agents Winston Rook and Rhiannon Knight.

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[awrkive]

COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (explicit smut, fluff, light angst) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 26.6k

WARNINGS/MISC fwb!au, college!au, basketball player!jk, kinda secret relationship(?)!au, nerdy!oc but not really she’s just very school-oriented, jk is tatted up here and is very yummy especially in his jersey sighs, hes also rich lol, school journalist!reader, jk calls oc a lot of petnames, basketball stuff im not sure are accurate t-t. multiple sex scenes honestly idek where all of these came from but they include: unprotected sex (this is a fanfiction everything tends to be crazy around these areas don’t do it irl pls omg lol), penetrative sex, creampie, cumplay, car sex, jk’s silver chain hehe, slight cockwarming, oral sex (f and m receiving), jk wears those curvy headbands thing (they look so cute on guys in fact he wore it once), shower sex. if there is anything i left out, pls tell me so that i can add them here. jungkooks visual is jungkook at jitb listening party . 

NOTES if u have been following me you'll know this is a repost haha! i decided to publish this again so you can read it on tumblr if u dont like to read on ao3! also, please pleasssseee send me guys your feedbacks after reading it even a keyboard smash goes a long way anyway ill shut up now i hope you guys enjoy this monster!! last note, pls be gentle with my cn&bl babies <33

[ CN&BL MOODBOARD ] 

The late March weather has been cold these days, so when Jungkook – in his real fuckboy fashion – texted you that his nose could use a heater and he could offer to warm you up in return, you agreed for him to come over even though you pretended to be disgusted by his offer. 

“Hurry,” you whimper as aforementioned man manhandles you to get you off his lap, making you bounce on the mattress.

Just like that, the warmth from being pressed against his body was gone, exchanged by the cold immediately spreading goosebumps through your skin as Jungkook makes quick work of spreading your legs, eliciting a bit of an uncomfortable feeling from you as you feel your cum leaking out.

Jungkook swipes a hand through his sweaty hairline as he kneels inside your spread legs, and you have to fight a moan at the sight. You still feel a little delirious from when he made you cum the second time just a minute ago, still lightheaded from the high of it. But you can’t deny that he always looks so good in all his natural, naked form; chest heaving, toned stomach coated in sheer sweat, his biceps – especially the tatted one – bulging as he reaches for your hips to pull you down so he could enter you once again.

It tears a cry from your vocal chords, him thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his pace frantic and inconsistent, a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm. His grunts, together with your pathetic little moans at the feel of his cock touching every part of your pussy filled the room.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he groans, leaning down, and as a result, reaching deeper into you, mouth reaching for your breast to your mouth. The kiss is a sloppy act of both of you just breathing in each other’s mouths, as Jungkook drills your pussy faster, his fingers tightening around your waist. A particular hard thrust got you drawing out a loud mewl and that’s what tips Jungkook over the edge. “F-fuck – shit, where do I cum baby? Tell me, tell me.”

“Inside– fuck. Please cum inside me,”

He lets out a sharp breath and after a few more erratic strokes, you feel his hot release painting your inner walls.

“Shit,” Jungkook hissed as he fell on top of you. You can feel the way he’s heaving as his skin touches yours, but you let yourself relax on the mattress, breathing shallow breaths.

Since he’s way more athletic than you, he got over it soon and you feel him picking himself up to hover over you, beginning to plant kisses all over your chest and the mole in between them; your nipples, your shoulders, your collarbones.

“Kook,” you call softly, your limp hand patting his ass to get his attention. He always gets so preoccupied with kissing your body after sex.

Jungkook hums, but he looks at you. “Yeah?”

You grunt. “I jwashed my sheets two days ago and I don’t want cum stains on them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he leans down, and even though you were complaining just now, you let out quite a joyful hum when he kisses you. “Let me see first.”

You don’t need to ask what he’s referring to.

Pushing your body back up, Jungkook takes it upon himself to get his body off of you only to watch as you slide two fingers over your pussy, spreading the lips so he can see the combination of your and his cum all over it.

“You need to hurry, Nayeon is coming home in a few minutes.”

He doesn’t even try to look like he’s concerned about the urgency of that matter, just hums absentmindedly and gets his own finger to run over your exposed heat. You shiver at the contrast of the hot feeling of your pussy and the cold feeling of his finger, but it soon turns into pleasure when he gathers your cum and pushes it back into you.

“Are you going to keep it in for me?” He whispers, a thumb now caressing your hip.

“Depends.”

Jungkook looks back up at you, a sly grin spreading on his lips. “On what?”

“If you’re going to be good and say please when you want something.” You grin at him, feeling pretty proud of yourself for catching him off guard. It doesn’t last long very much though as he smirks, but as soon as he opens his mouth, you hear a series of knocks and your eyes widen at that.

You hissed. “Shit, that’s Nayeon.”

You sit up from the bed. Jungkook mirrors your haste, scrambling to find his clothes on the floor and putting them on quickly. You have your robe just nearby so you put just that on, ignoring the tingling sensation of cum trickling down your legs.

“I have to go.” Jungkook whispers, and you nod, walking towards the window on the far end of the room and opening it up widely.

Like usual, Jungkook steps on the frame and easily hauls himself outside. It’s the backside of the building of your complex, and it’s mostly and usually quiet, so it was pretty safe for him to just go out of there without anyone noticing, and most especially at times like this. Because Nayeon can’t know. No one can.

“I’ll see you later, pretty.”

Jungkook winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes, waving him off which earns a laugh from him. He easily saunters through the perimeter though and you find it quite unfair how he still carries a certain graceful energy to him even though he literally just did an exhausting cardio exercise with you for about thirty minutes. Ugh, him and his athletic body.

Nayeon’s voice can be heard across the flat, but before you let her in, you sprayed an unhealthy amount of air freshener on your body and around the room (just in case she enters) and shoved your discarded clothes from earlier in the laundry basket. After that, you finally run towards the door, welcoming Nayeon with a smile as you open it.

“Hi!” You greet rather cheerfully. She immediately hugs you briefly, groaning as she steps back and enters your little abode.

“Class sucked today,” she throws herself on the couch and you give her a sympathetic smile, walking towards the fridge to get water.

“Well, wish me luck. I’m headed out to one.”

“God, I can’t wait ‘til we graduate, I’m tired of this bullshit.” She says, but she’s opening up her laptop for what you could guess as for finishing up an assigned work. “I wish I was having bomb sex like you. Hey, do you want to go to this party on Friday?”

“I – what?”

“Party on Friday? Finals season for basketball starts on Friday and they’re planning a party. We could use free booze and stress-free night.” Nayeon repeats, but you weren’t asking for the party. You tried to ignore it, but you have the tendency to overexpplain yourself so that you do not get misunderstood.

“I’m not having bomb sex.” You say, and that makes her look at you. At that, you realized you shouldn't have taken the bait. Stupid, stupid, stupid you. You could've swerved this topic if you weren't so quick to react at the word sex.

You stare at each other for a solid few seconds until she rolls her eyes.

“Girl, your hair looks like a bird’s nest and your lips are swollen as hell. I might not be having bomb sex in the current moment but I know what I look like after I do the deed,” She wore her eyeglasses and perched it on her nose. “And you kinda smelled like sex when you opened the door.”

“No!” You feel heat coming and spreading through your cheeks. You thought the damn Febreeze would hold up!

Nayeon waves you off. “It’s fine, it’s not like you haven’t caught me before like that.”

“It’s embarrassing.” You insist, stuffing your face with a bread you took from the counter and purposefully not meeting Nayeon’s gaze so you don’t see the teasing smiles you’re sure she’s sending your way.

“That you’re having sex in college?!” Her playful scandalous tone makes you laugh though and that’s when you look at her.

“No, ugh. Just. Sorry. If I smelled like sex. I tried spraying a lot of air freshener earlier.”

She wiggles her brows. “Oh, is that why you took a long time opening the door? Was your sneaky link here just now?”

“Sneaky what?” You say, laughing.

“Sneaky link. You know, a hook up. Wait, is it a boyfriend? Please say no, because I would be extremely offended if you haven’t introduced your boyfriend to me all this time.”

You could swear you felt goosebumps on your nape when you heard the word boyfriend and saw images of Jungkook in your head immediately, as if you were used to associating him to the word.

“It’s definitely not a boyfriend. Just… someone I hook up with sometimes.”

“Interesting. Do I know him?”

The question makes you nervous. She definitely knows. No one not knows who Jungkook is at your campus.

With a shake of your head, you tell her, straight-faced, “Nope.”

“Okay, which department? Does he go to our Uni?” She asks, now seemingly fully invested in this conversation rather than the assignment before her. You’re happy to be a bit of a help to lessen her sour mood from earlier but you shake your head and let out playful tsk-ing sounds,

“Too many questions, babe,” You teased. “My class is starting in twenty minutes.”

You heard her laughing as you carried your clothes to the bathroom to change and to clean up the mess in your nether region. Damn. Jungkook cums a lot these days… he needs to masturbate or something.

“Fine, fine! You don’t want me to know but I’m gonna find out about the mystery guy one way or another!”

Shutting the door to the bathroom, your face contorts at Nayeon’s words.

Yeah, absolutely not. Jungkook and you made an agreement in the first place that everyone should be oblivious of your situationship, and it’s worked for almost four months now.

You can’t fuck it up now.

As soon as you fixed yourself, you bid your goodbye to Nayeon who went ahead and busied herself by hacking away on her laptop, grabbing your bag and heading out and finally walking to your Uni that was just a few minutes away from your complex. Your apartment is almost like a dorm, to be honest. 

The hallway is a little crowded, but you don’t miss a certain brunette in a familiar gray hoodie you’ve had in your closet before. 

You meet Jungkook’s eyes but you quickly change your gaze to his friend, Taehyung, who’s walking beside him as he greets you cheerfully. 

"Hey, ___!” You return his smile, waving. You had a Philo class with Kim Taehyung at one point and found out that despite your preassumptions about him for being a varsity guy, he was a pretty interesting person to talk with. You’re not super close per se, just acquainted enough to acknowledge each other when you meet somewhere like the campus hallways.

You don’t like the attention it draws, though. So you walk straight to your destination.

Varsity guys tend to be famous, and you’ve chosen to steer yourself away from them. Ironic, though, considering that you’re fucking one. Obviously, you’re not doing a very good job at “steering yourself away from them”.

Maybe it’s the sole reason why it’s a secret. Jungkook is the star player of the basketball team together with Taehyung and a few other guys. You know their usual gist. Famous circle, lavish lifestyle, attractive guys who (unfortunately) know it, skillful at the sports they do, too many people fawning over them. And well… not to be that person but you’re just someone dutifully studying here. Someone in the background. And you love that mostly, but sometimes you think that maybe… it’s why Jungkook seems to never entertain the idea of making your relationship public. Not that you would like that yourself. You took part in the secrecy agreement, suggested it yourself, in fact. You would never admit to anyone you’re fucking him. But, well. It’s just weird. 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Someone’s going to end it eventually and you’re gonna make sure it’s you… just so it’s established that you aren’t the one who’s more willing in the relationship. Yeah, that. Just not now. School is stressful. You like sex with him. 

When you arrive at the lecture hall, your phone vibrates. A text from Jungkook is plastered all over your lock screen.

[1:15pm] Jeon: hi pretty [1:15pm] Jeon: nice skirt :) 

You internally roll your eyes. Him and his literal and figurative skirt chaser tendencies.

[1:20pm] You: Hi.

You get a reply immediately.

[1:20pm] Jeon: wanna grab dinner later

You stare at his text, a little taken aback. 

That’s new. Sure, you had grabbed lunch with him at his stupid fancy Benz like, once. After he fucked you in it to ease your nerves about a class presentation you did earlier that day. He didn’t offer, he just bought you Chinese because you passed by a resto as he drove you to your place. 

Anyway. You don’t know why he would do this all of a sudden. You fucked three days ago, then the day after that, then earlier this day. You’re not complaining but you never predicted your sex life would be so active like this. 

[1:22pm] You: Pass. Studying later

Which is true. You have a Tech Writing quiz tomorrow, though not necessarily hard. Whatever. Your thoughts in the hallway awhile ago are making you feel kind of weird about him right now.

[1:23pm] Jeon: boring [1:23pm] You: ):< [1:23pm] Jeon: cute :) do u want me to order boba ill deliver it to ur place after ur class

Well, that is definitely not new. Jungkook delivers you food, like, every single time.

[1:24pm] You: :))) Yess. Thank you [1:24pm] You: I’m going to venmo you [1:25pm] Jeon: lol yk im just gonna venmo it back to u

True. There’s been a lot of back and forth in that app. One time, he “jokingly” sent you a hundred dollars (a hundred dollars!) after you kept on insisting you pay for the takoyaki he made delivered to you, and that horrified you so much that of course you sent the money back to him, but he made you promise to stop trying to argue with him about the payment thing. It doesn’t mean you don’t feel bad about it still though…

[1:25pm] You: 😤😠 [1:27pm] Jeon: do u also want anything besides boba [1:27pm] You: Noppee, I think Nayeon is going to cook something for us later [1:28pm] Jeon: alright [1:28pm] You: Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back? [1:28pm] Jeon: nahh it’s alright [1:28pm] Jeon: besides I can think of other ways for u to pay me back without money involved.. ;) 

Ah, there he is. He really couldn’t go on a day without sexual innuendos.

[1:29pm] You: You are infuriating and I’m turning off mh phone  [1:29pm] You: *my [1:29pm] Jeon: you like when I annoy you so .. [1:29pm] You: No I don’t and Im so sore i feel like my brain will leak out of my ears from so much sex  [1:29pm] You: Also please stop using ellipsis in texts [1:29pm] Jeon: hmm [1:29pm] Jeon: who said anything about sex? [1:30pm] Jeon: not me🤔 do u think i just think about sex all the time [1:30pm] Jeon: what’s worng with ellipsis…? [1:32pm] You: Yes you do think about sex all the time 

He reacted to that message with the HAHA emoticon, and you felt yourself having a hard time fighting an eyeroll.

[1:32pm] Jeon: you know me so well [1:32pm] You: Also, nothing wrong with ellipsis they just remind me of how my dad texts  [1:32pm] Jeon: ummmmm im sure ur dad is great so im flattered

You snorted at that.

[1:33pm] You: you do NOT know that  [1:33pm] Jeon: i thought you were turning off your phone [1:34pm] You: I am right now so don’t reply prof is walking to the lecture hall now [1:35pm] Jeon: good luck baby ;)

Nayeon didn’t convince you enough to join her at the party she mentioned before come Friday night. In a weird parallelism, Jungkook also texted you about a party you could come to, and eventually, you’ve come to realize that it was his party. Their party.

Your Uni’s basketball team held a celebratory one because they won the first game of Finals. You only knew when you went to the school’s publication office earlier. The freshman sports journalist, Ryujin, came to you to ask you some questions about her rough draft about said game.

You see, this is one of those times when you are reminded that Jungkook and you really only have a relationship through sex. Sure, you know some stuff about each other. Like how you are an English major, he’s taking Computer Science, you’re the managing director of the school’s publication, he’s a star player in the basketball team; he knows about your favorite takoyaki flavor (it’s smoked bacon) and your boba order, and you know he likes food that you dislike, namely cheese cake and mint chocolate flavored stuff. He also likes Marvel a lot. He knows you’re obsessed with films from the golden age of Hongkong cinema because you mentioned it in passing. (He doesn’t know you particularly love the Wong Kar-wai ones though…)

But somehow, he never really tells you about his basketball games. Sure, he’d mentioned practices before but it’s something he doesn’t bother to include you in. Not that it would matter to you. It’s not like you tell him all about your stuff in school, either.

Your attention is caught by a ping from your phone. 

[12:05am] Jeon: hey you still up? 

The text reads. You type a reply. 

[12:07am] You: Yes, why? [12:07am] Jeon: let’s facetime [12:07am] You: Why [12:08am] Jeon: i want to see your pretty face

Spoken like a true fuckboy. Really?

Before you could respond, his face is taking up your whole screen, asking to facetime you. Without thinking about it too much, you accepted the call, falling back to your bed. 

From the screen, you could see that he’s wearing a black shirt with a long silver chain around his neck. He smiles that adorable smile when you finally make your whole face visible to the camera. 

“What is it?”

The audio from his end is a little distorted, probably from the loud music from where he’s at. That after-game party, most likely. He texted you about it awhile ago. Nayeon is probably there, too. 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Again with the nickname and the slight way his eyes are hooded as he said it. If you squint enough, maybe you could tell if he’s drunk or not. You’re not sure. But the way that’s his instant words upon seeing you is making you feel a little weird in your stomach. He’s got to stop calling you that. 

“Are you drunk-calling me right now…?" 

He shakes his head and says something, but you don’t hear it, so you informed him so. The screen shows you dark, pixelated images, making you think he’s probably moving his camera around, and you could make out that he’s walking away from the party as the loud music fades out eventually. 

"I’m not drunk.” He says after he settles on a spot. 

“Oh, okay.” You nod. You shifted on your side. “Why did you call me?" 

He laughs at that. "I can’t call you?" 

His laughter intensifies when he sees you roll your eyes. "No. I’m just wondering… aren’t you at a party?" 

Jungkook nods his head. "Yes, but it’s getting boring here." 

"Oh.”

Another beat of silence, but Jungkook is the one to say another word. 

“Hey, do you wanna go out for a drive?" 

Well… that sounds good. You just finished a write-up and did some studying a little earlier and you also planned to order food but forgot about it.

"Sure.”

Jungkook smiles at that.

“I’ve been wanting to show you something. I think you’ll like it." 

Your eyebrow arched at that. This is getting a little too new. He’s driven you around before but it always involved fucking, not done with the intention to show you something. Not that you aren’t expecting sex tonight, though. You would actually appreciate that.

"What is it?" 

You could make out a smirk from Jungkook’s face on the slightly pixelated screen. "I’m going to show you the real me.” The glint of mischief in his tone cracks you up, so you played right into it,

“Ohhh, does it involve dead bodies?" 

He nods with a serious face. "Yes, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out." 

"Yeah, and don’t you freak out if I tell the police about it.” You squint your eyes, trying to give him a scolding look. 

“Ah,” Jungkook leans back. “You would do that, wouldn’t you? You’re always such a good girl." 

It wouldn’t have meant anything if it wasn’t for the way his voice drops, giving you a meaningful look again. You could feel the heat in your cheeks but you shrug it off. 

"I am a good girl, I pride myself for it." 

Jungkook finally laughs this time, finding this conversation hilarious just as you do. "I know, I like it most especially—" 

After all this time, you developed a sort of a Spidey sense for when Jungkook is about to say perverted things, so before he could make such remarks, you cut him off.

"If you’re gonna say something sexual I’m going to end this call.” But even you could tell it was an empty threat.

Jungkook thinks so, too, you know that, but he decides to step back. “I was just going to say that I like it most especially because it does good to the world." 

The mirth in his eyes tells you otherwise. 

"You do not think that.” You say, rolling your eyes. 

He laughs once more, throwing his head back as if you said the funniest joke in the world. Weirdo. 

“Alright, alright. So I’m coming to your place in five minutes to pick you up. How does that sound?" 

"Good. Nayeon’s currently out… just text me if you get here." 

He told you to end the call – which you argued you were just planning to do so and he didn’t need to tell you and it earned a laugh from him, how stubborn you were about such simple things. You just gave him a baleful look.

Just as you pick out a sweatshirt and some sweats in exchange for your pajama dress, you receive a text from Jungkook that he’s arrived and so you grab your wallet and keys and your phone, heading out. 

You spot his car and knock on the passenger’s seat window and Jungkook immediately opens it for you. 

"Hi, gorgeous.” He greets you. “You want to keep the window open?" 

"Hello. Yes, please.” You say, fixing your seat belt. 

He hums and you press on a button to slide the window open. 

“You want to pick up some food?" 

You perked up. "Yeah, I was planning to get some but I was too lazy to order in earlier." 

Jungkook pressed some buttons again you don’t really understand but it got music to start playing, lights in the car moving into the same beat of the tune (his car was really fancy…). Some mellow ones you kind of liked during this drive on a cold night. He saw a food place from around a corner and you both agreed to get food from the shop. 

He parked somewhere for you guys to open up the take-out. There’s some steamed tofu there so you pick it up and start eating. 

"I’ve been obsessed with tofu these days,” you shared absentmindedly, chewing on said food. 

Jungkook looks at the tofu you were eating. “Really? I remember when you said you dislike it." 

"Yeah, but that’s because I cooked it one time and it sucked." 

"I should teach you to cook one of these days…” you refused to acknowledge what that entails and laughed instead.

“You know how?” You said to tease, but you also genuinely can’t believe he knows how.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, a faux offended look on his face, saying, “Why do I always get that reaction? Of course I know how to cook." 

"Huh,” you pondered. “Wouldn’t have expected it from you." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have this friend who’s a really good cook and I kinda learned through him." 

"That’s cute. Nayeon knows how to cook and I never learned shit from it.” You laugh at your own words, so does Jungkook. “But hey," 

"Hm?" 

"Do you think my boobs got bigger? I think they got bigger.” You put your food down your lap and caress your breasts through your clothes. 

You’ve been thinking about it since last week. Earlier, you saw yourself naked in your mirror and noticed a change in their size. You almost thought you were pregnant but your period literally just ended yesterday. But can that happen with pregnancies? But… you’re very diligent with your pills… so it can’t be. Right? 

You made a mental note to buy a test tomorrow.

“Look the same to me.” Jungkook says, looking at your chest. 

You grab his free hand and put it over a boob. He squeezes it promptly, and you hear an almost dramatic gasp. 

“Oh, they are bigger." 

You remove his hand over you and nod. "Yeah. But I think it’s just due to some hormonal changes. Also I think I’m putting on weight, I’ve been eating a lot these days… but… it’s stupid but I also think my obsession with tofu has something to do with it," 

Jungkook looks over at you curiously. 

"Yeah, they say tofu makes your boobs bigger." You added.

He arches a brow at that. "Really?" 

"Don’t look so excited." 

Jungkook can’t help but huff out a laugh. "I do not!” You roll your eyes. He insists, “I love your boobs the way they are." 

"Geez, thanks." 

You finished your food and Jungkook drove around again. It’s still in the vicinity of your town. The music in his car serves as a lulling noise in the otherwise quiet night. There’s still a lot of cars on the streets, some occasional honking sounds, but you feel really, really nice, most especially when the wind blows a little harsher and it makes your hair go crazy. Jungkook laughs at that too. 

It’s later in the night when Jungkook slowed down somewhere, and soon, he was parking at an abandoned house.

As if on cue, you looked at him and said, "So you really are going to show me your literal skeletons." 

He laughed at that. 

"Nope, sorry to disappoint, princess." 

Jungkook gets out of the car and you follow, immediately shivering at the wind. You wished you wore a hoodie instead of this thin, knitted sweatshirt, but you didn’t expect it would be this cold. It was nearing summer and the weather has been inconsistent for the last month. 

You look at the abandoned house once again. There were wooden planks nailed on the door, plastic covers draped over the windows, and overall, it just looks really old. Kind of creepy, if you were to be honest. 

In your assessment of the house, you don’t notice Jungkook coming to you with two bottles of soju. He brings them up slightly, a grin on his face.

"Drinks?”

“Okay…” you squint your eyes. “Where are we going to do that?" 

He gives you a knowing smirk. "Inside." 

Jungkook went over the fence with ease and you followed his direction but didn’t do the same thing. He looks back at you. "Hey." 

"Are you sure it’s safe?” You ask, looking around, wrapping your arms around your middle because of the cold. 

Jungkook probably notes the genuine concern in your tone, that’s why he sets the soju down and comes forward to you, the fence serving as some kind of dramatic border. 

“Baby, it’s fine. No one comes around here.” He says but you don’t really feel assured just yet. 

“What if someone comes here now? I don’t want to be arrested…" 

"No one’s getting arrested,” Jungkook insists. You still look hesitant. “Come on. Really. I’ve been here lotta times, haven’t ever seen anyone here since then." 

You look at him. He seems to be telling that truth and well, maybe you’re stupid for believing him but he seemed to know this place well and had been going here for a long time and as far as you know, he doesn’t have criminal records, so… 

"Okay, fine.” You give in. 

Jungkook immediately grins. “Nice. Here, let me help you.” He leans forward and takes a hold of your hips as you go over the fence. It’s not that high, really, but you let him carry you over it until you both entered the abandoned property. 

When he puts you down, you tug at his shirt.

“Wait, your car.” you gasp.

“Oh, it’s fine. I parked it at that green house, someone’s just gonna assume it’s theirs.” He says, completely nonchalant about it.

You think he’s being careless about his fucking Benz but whatever. 

Jungkook leads you to the back of the creepy house and the eerie place immediately gives you goosebumps. The cold of the night does not help, either, so you cling to him until he sits on the ground. 

“Jungkook, that’s dirty.” You tell him, trying to tug him up. 

He chuckles. “It’s fine, princess. Come here, I’ll take my jacket off. Sit beside me.” Indeed, he takes off his jacket, and you worry he might be cold with his t-shirt only now but you also really don’t want to sit on the ground… 

“You’re not cold?” You make sure as you sit beside him. Jungkook opens one of the soju and offers it to you. You take it as he opens another one for himself. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” Jungkook starts drinking but even though you have one in your hand, you don’t. He must’ve noticed it as he says, “Hey. Relax.”

“Aside from my fear of getting arrested, it’s also really fucking creepy here.” You retort, scooting closer to him. You got to be honest and admit that you’re more scared of the place than scared of getting arrested. 

Jungkook throws his head back to laugh at that. “Again, we’re not getting arrested. And what do you mean creepy? You don’t like it here?" 

You look around the place more. "Eh, it’s okay. I just can’t help but think what if there are lost souls around here…” you trailed off, giving him a baleful look when that only made him laugh more. They were quiet laughter, though. Probably to not disrupt said souls. 

“You believe those?" 

You roll your eyes. "Okay, cool macho guy." 

"No, no, I’m sorry,” Jungkook still laughs in between his words and you whisked his hand away in an act of lighthearted sulking when it tried to reach you.

Okay. You don’t exactly believe in ghosts but it’s hard not to when it’s in the middle of the night and quiet and cold and you’re in an abandoned house. You avoid horror movies for a valid reason. 

“Alright, let’s cuddle so you don’t get scared.” Jungkook says, but there’s a teasing sound to it.

“Don’t make fun.” You glared at him. 

“I’m serious, come here.” He opens his arms wide and you roll your eyes, not moving to come closer. He laughs when even after seconds passed you still didn’t give in. You thought he was giving up but instead he twisted to your direction and let both his legs crowd you so that you’re in between them. 

“You’re annoying,” you say but you kind of feel oddly comforted by being close to him like that, and Jungkook must’ve known as well because he just gives you a smug smile, chugging on his soju after.

You did the same. You try to throw away your nerves and scary thoughts, letting yourself relax as he said. When you kind of did a moment later, you find that it’s kind of nice, actually. 

“What do you think?” Jungkook suddenly speaks. 

“Hm?" 

"It’s nice here, right?” He arched his brow at you. “Just try not to think about ghosts." 

You pinch his shin through his cargo pants and he gives you a very ingenuine, "Ouch!" 

"Except for the ugly house, it’s nice here.” You reply. As you look up, you see stars scattered across the dark skies. It was quite a view, honestly. Makes you a little surprised because it was so beautiful. You almost missed Jungkook’s words. 

“Yeah. It’s not exactly beautiful here but it’s a great place to think." 

"Think?" 

Jungkook sees your teasing smile and shakes his head. "Yes, baby, I do a lot of those." 

You chuckle at that and drink more of your alcohol.

You don’t exchange more words after that but you find that it wasn’t awkward. It was just… a nice silence. A comfortable one. With Jungkook crowding you with his legs, you feel like you might be the most relaxed you’ve ever been in the past few months. 

You twist yourself so now you’re not facing forward anymore, but to Jungkook. You realize if he’d been looking forward he just had a view of your side profile. You try not to think too much if he just stared at you, although you did feel him do that for a few minutes a while ago. 

"Hey, congrats on the game.” You tell him with a soft smile on your face, placing your drink on the ground. It’s still filled in half. You could finish it but you doubt you wouldn’t be drunk by that time. Your alcohol tolerance is not at all exemplary. 

“Thanks.” Jungkook sheepishly smiles at you. “You watched it?" 

"Ah, no. I just heard about it. I don’t really know anything about basketball so…” you trail off, noting the way he nods at your words. 

“Right. I’ve never seen you watch us before.”

You try to joke, “That’s because you never invite me to any of your games." 

But it looks like that caught him off guard. "I– huh?” The look on his eyes tells you that he was genuinely surprised at your words, those eyes of him looking like a deer’s when it’s caught in the headlights. 

You laugh. “I’m just kidding. I don’t usually watch sports games. Too crowded for my liking." 

Jungkook nodded at that, but he still looked taken aback from your words earlier. You really were just kidding. You hope he didn’t take it seriously. But he agrees with you, anyway. "Yeah, it can get crowded sometimes." 

Silence and then after a few beats, Jungkook speaks again. 

"Hey, let’s make out." 

You arched a brow but didn’t really find any reason to oppose it, so you went ahead and kissed him. 

Jungkook immediately holds your hips. On the other hand, you snake your arms around his neck, kneeling in between his spread legs. The kiss starts slow but he holds the back of your neck and deepens it.

You whimpered when he nudged your legs with his free hand, and your shock made you break away from the kiss. Jungkook took it as an opportunity to start pecking your neck, though, his hand seemingly coaxing you to open your legs. You got the message and finally straddled his waist, Jungkook groaning and you moaning when you feel your crotches connecting at the action.

He was already sporting a semi, and you also feel your panties getting slick from the way he kissed and bit and licked and soothed your neck. 

"Jungkook,” you moaned, searching for his mouth. 

He kissed you again, all tongue and so sloppy, his hand reaching for the hem of your sweatshirt and creeping inside it to find you not wearing a bra. He did think you weren't wearing one when you put his hand on your boob in the car earlier.

“Ah, fuck,” he squeezed your tit in his hand, you whine. “They really are bigger. Can I see them, baby?" 

You nodded, not even giving it a solid thought as Jungkook immediately hiked up your top until your perky breasts were all bare for him to see. 

And devour, eventually.

Jungkook went straight to sucking your boob and squeezing the other to tend to it, massaging it in his huge palm. He licked a nipple and bit at it slightly, making you sigh at his action. Your arms went to his head to fist his hair in your hands. 

His ministrations on your chest encouraged you to roll your hips against his pelvis, and that elicited a grunt from him. Smiling a little at that, you experimented on doing it a little harder, and as a result, Jungkook tugged at your nipple, making you whine a little too loud.

"Behave." 

You pout. "I want to fuck." 

"It’s not so creepy here anymore?” He had the audacity to tease, but his hands were still on your breasts, fondling them. 

“I didn’t say we can fuck here. Just…” you looked around, not really specifically looking for something. 

Now that Jungkook mentioned it again, you get reminded that it really is creepy as fuck here. And you still didn’t trust the ground. There was no way you could stand fucking in this property. And what if something scary happens while you’re in the middle of doing it… 

Just as you were thinking it, a strange sound catches both of your attention.

“I think we should get back in your car.” You decided. 

Probably seeing the flash of fear in your eyes, Jungkook laughs. “Are you thinking of ghosts again?" 

You slap his chest. "No. But I want to cum." 

"So demanding,” he playfully scolds but you just roll your eyes and let your sweatshirt fall to cover you up once again. You immediately cling to him the moment he stands up and help him pick up the soju bottles, anxiously praying you guys hurry up to get out of here. 

“It was just the wind.” Jungkook comforts you once you were on your way to his car. 

As far as you’re concerned, it’s never just the wind. At least those shitty horror movies you and your cousins watched during sleepovers tell you so. 

Jungkook opens the door to the backseat and you go in and he follows after you. 

You immediately straddle him once he’s seated, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Wow, you’re really eager for me to fuck the fear out of you, huh?” He says, sounding smug about the way you reach for the hem of your shirt and removing it from yourself. 

“Hm. Your dirty talk these days have been subpar.” you slide his jacket off of him and he lets you remove his shirt as well, laughing more at your impatience. 

“Can’t think straight when a pretty girl is on my lap." 

Before you could say something about that, he gripped your waist and got you off his lap, manhandling you to lay on the backseat. Your back is against the car door as Jungkook twisted in his seat, hauling himself backwards to pull your sweats down and take off your birkens. Leaning down, Jungkook pressed open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, teasing his mouth on where you need him the most. 

But you didn’t want to feel anything there other than his cock, and you tell him so. 

"Jungkook,” you whine, catching his attention. When he looks up at you, you whine some more, “Just fuck me. I’m so wet already." 

He cursed, caressing the sides of your thighs. "Baby, I need to prep you.”

“There’s no need for that, come on, please. I need your cock." 

Jungkook groans. But then he makes quick work of unzipping his pants, pulling it down with his boxers until his dick is out. It’s plenty hard already, the shiny tip catching your attention. 

You let out another cry at the sight of him gripping his base, pumping it for a few seconds and finally pushing your panties to the side and slipped inside you. True to your words, it was quite an easy slide, but the burn still stings a little bit. His size was on the little above average spectrum and you’ve always found a hard time taking it in smoothly. 

"Oh, god,” you mewl, grasping his bicep while your other hand grips the back seat. 

Jungkook tightened his fingers on your waist, a hand coming up to one of your thighs to wrap it around his middle. You follow his silent command, welcoming the hot kiss he gives you. 

“Should I move now?” He whispers in your mouth, and you nod frantically, throwing your head back with a moan when he does as told. 

His cock was not even pulled out completely before he slipped it in again, slowly, in agonizing deep strokes. Like he wants to feel every corner of your warm hole. 

“So good…” you moaned, tightening your thigh around his body. 

“You like when I fuck you slow, baby?” Jungkook pressed kisses on your chest this time, and you could only nod your head mindlessly as he repeated thrusting out again. 

“I – ah… so good, Kook. I love it," 

The car is cramped and all you could hear are your heavy breaths and the lewd squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your pussy, his chain dangling in between your bodies feels cold when it momentarily touches your chest.

You would tell him to go faster, harder, but the way he was planting fairy kisses on your skin and his tattooed arm popping veins on the side of your head as if he was finding it hard to not fuck you stupid, you found that his deep and precise albeit slow strokes great.

"So pretty,” he says, moving the strands of hair that stuck everywhere on your face. 

“K-kook,” you whimper. 

“Hm? Baby? What is it?” Jungkook looks at you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze, his dick still continuing its slow pace in your cunt. 

“M-my back hurts like this,” you say. 

His eyes look softer at your words, expression gentle. “Sorry, angel.” He caresses your face and kisses you which you welcomed with a sob when his dick hits deeper after he leaned down. “Here, I’ll sit here. Straddle me.” But he doesn’t even wait for you to move as he hauls you to his lap himself, his cock still inside you, feeling it twitching when you sit on it outright. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook squeezes your breasts and laps at them, only to look up at you again. “You okay?" 

You nod, pushing him slightly so that he relaxes his back against the seat. You brace yourself on his chest and begin to bounce on his cock.

Jungkook throws his head back, letting you on your own pace, hands gripping your hips to help you move. 

"So fucking good for me,” he hissed just as when you mewled when his cock hits a particular spot in you. “Take it easy, baby, nice and slow, okay?” He said, taking a hold on the back of your head and pulling you in for a slow kiss.

You followed his words and planted your knees on either side of him, going down steadily, crying out at the way you feel every ridge of his huge cock inside you like this. 

It was so pleasurable, the way he groaned in your ears, squeezing your breasts, tugging at your sensitive nipples, murmuring stupid, sweet nothings, his cock seemingly growing larger in your heat each second passed, and soon, you feel that knot in your stomach ready to burst. 

“I-I’m cumming, Kook, I’m cumming–" 

Jungkook hummed, and when he felt your movements stuttering, he took it upon himself to press his thumb to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves and fucking his dick up into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm snap. 

"So good for me, baby, fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” He kept rubbing delicious shapes on your clit, and you had to bite back a pathetic sob as the pleasure started to become too much. 

But he was still chasing his high, and you leaned forward to kiss him through it, letting him do whatever he wanted to get himself there. 

And when he did cum, you feel yourself cumming a second time too, Jungkook letting out strings of curses and nonsense as he feels you dripping more juices down onto his cock. 

Your head falls on the crook of his neck, Jungkook caressing your back as he relaxes on the seat. 

For a while, words were not spoken. He kept kissing your hair while you felt him twitching in your pussy. 

“I’m so tired,” you wearily peeled your face from his neck, looking at him. He has his eyes shut close, but there’s a content smile on his face that you leaned down to kiss. You didn’t know what for, you just felt like kissing him. 

Jungkook hums. The mess in your crotch starts to feel sticky and cold and uncomfortable. 

“Let’s stay like this for a while.” He says, as if he could read that you were about to get off his lap. 

You chuckle. “I can literally feel you going soft." 

"Ignore my dick. I wanna feel you a little more." 

"Okay." 

Jungkook does an unexpected thing of kissing your forehead. You choose to ignore the weird tingling feeling in your stomach and the way your cheeks feel hot at the action, just let him slip his fingers through your hair and rest your cheek on his naked chest. 

You eventually got off of each other after a few minutes, and you both were quiet as you dressed yourselves back. Jungkook and you got out of his car so he could drive and you could enter the passenger’s seat. 

The drive to your place was quiet but the silence was nice and comfortable, just like when you were at the back of that creepy old house. Jungkook occasionally sang along to some of the songs playing from a random playlist he pulled up on Spotify, and his voice sounded kind of nice. You wanted to say something about it but decided not to, in slight fear that he would stop.

When he pulled over in front of your complex, there was a soft, gentle smile on his face when he told you, "Sweet dreams." 

Your face mirrored his as you wished him good night. 

You locked the door to your apartment, ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach. 

You found yourselves at that abandoned house again the next night and Jungkook forewent the booze and brought junk food from Wendy’s. You had a swell time just sitting with each other at the back of the house, talking about the most random things you could talk about like some silly childhood memories. You almost shared your joy upon finding out that you weren’t actually pregnant after taking the test earlier that day just like you said you would the other night, but you found it better to keep that to yourself.

Additionally, you ranted to him about Professor Kang for giving you a C+ on a project you thought you deserved a higher grade for. Jungkook showed blind support by roasting your professor’s haircut. You didn’t fuck that night but did it the next night after a few drinks. 

When the day of their second game of Finals hit, your Uni won again and Jungkook ditched the after-game party, picking you up and driving you to that place. Almost like it became tradition. 

This time, you think you went overboard with the drinks, but it was probably just your shitty alcohol tolerance because Jungkook was standing still with his third bottle – which you childishly argued was unfair. 

Jungkook carried you like a sack of potatoes on your way to his car, ignoring how you slapped his ass. But you were all giggles and hushed whispers in the backseat as Jungkook guided your hips, bouncing you on his cock, just like the other night.

"How does it feel, baby?” Jungkook whispered against your mouth while you gripped his shoulders hard to slide up and down his cock, the tops of your feet resting on his thighs.

“S-so good,” you whimpered, speeding up, feeling yourself getting close to your edge. 

Jungkook tightened his hands on your waist but didn’t really do anything to control your movements or pace like he usually would. Like he was just enjoying you on top of him, using his cock to get off. 

You leaned down to kiss him, your moan upon feeling him deeper getting swallowed by the way he immediately reciprocated your touch.

You opened your eyes but then you suddenly caught a glimpse of a car. You pulled away from the kiss, but Jungkook took it as an opportunity to kiss your neck instead. While he was busy lapping up your skin, you narrowed your eyes to see clearer, only to realize that the car you saw was a fucking police cruiser. 

“Jungkook,” you called him, stopping your movements on his lap. 

“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice nearly sounded like a whine, understandably confused at your action– or lack thereof. 

But you only tapped his shoulder a little harder. 

“There’s a damn cruiser in front of us." 

Well, it wasn’t actually in front of you. It was more like, parked across from you, beside that abandoned house. 

Jungkook seemed to realize your panic though. His car wasn’t lit because you immediately got into it the moment he put you in the backseat. It was a little inconvenient especially when you were slipping him in but it turned to be a blessing in disguise because whoever owned that cruiser wouldn't have noticed what you were doing in his car.

"Shit." 

You hastily climbed off of him, quickly finding your shorts on the floor of the car and sliding it on while seated. Meanwhile, Jungkook just tucked his dick in his boxers and zipped up his pants. It was pure luck that you didn’t completely strip each other off earlier because it made for a fast dress up.

"Wait.” Jungkook leaned over the center part of the car and stayed a few seconds hunched over the console. You were just about to ask him what he was doing when the passenger’s seat suddenly reclined back. 

“Oh." 

"We can climb over here so that we don’t have to go out and have a cop seeing us. It would be suspicious.” He suggested, and you quickly nodded and did what he told you with a little bit of his help.

Jungkook pressed a button once again that had the driver’s seat this time leaning back, just like yours did. He climbed over it just as fast, putting on his seatbelt that you remember you needed to do as well so you followed. 

He lit on the car and started the engine. But before he could drive, a knock on his window made you both look at it.

“Fuck.”

You held your breath as you watched his window slowly sliding down, revealing a police decked in his uniform hunching down to see the inside of the car. 

“Evening, officer.” Jungkook greets casually. You didn’t know what to do. You reached for the phone in your pocket and turn it on, ducking down as much as you could so as to hide your face, trying to seem busy and casual.

“Oh, it’s just some kids, Hwang,” The cop turned to the side, and that’s when you heard another set of footsteps coming towards you. “You kids live here?" 

"Yeah. It’s my parents’ house, I’m just about to drive my girlfriend home.” Jungkook answered, referring to the green house he parked at, not a hint of hesitation or even an ounce of nervousness in his demeanor. 

You were too frozen to react to the way he called you his girlfriend. 

The other cop nodded. “Apologies. We were just roaming. Be careful, kid, you got a sleek car. There’s some thief on the loose around the street." 

Jungkook nodded as well, even did a little salute as he said, "You got it, sir." 

The cop patted the top of his car and Jungkook bid them a final goodbye before closing his window again and driving away. 

You felt like your soul just went right back inside you after it got out for a moment there. 

"Holy shit, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” 

And then suddenly, you giggled. Actually, like, giggled. Because realizing what just happened, you found every single thing fucking hilarious. You got away from cops!

“Oh my god, Jungkook. That was insane!” You said in between your laughter. 

Jungkook looked over at you before training his attention to the road and finally laughing with you, seemingly finding what happened just as hilarious. “Yeah. It was, it was.”

“And they really believed you! I can’t believe it,” you covered your face with both of your hands, your belly starting to hurt with how much you found the whole thing incredulous that it was funny.

“It’s not like we did anything wrong…” Jungkook said but he had a hint of playful tone when he spoke the words.

You snorted. “Well, in between public indecency and trespassing, which do you think they would most likely arrest us for?" 

That got Jungkook to laugh again. 

During the ride to your place, you complained about feeling too cold at one point. Jungkook asked if you wanted him to turn the A/C down but you shook your head and so he offered his jacket instead because you only wore a shirt. In your defense, when he picked you up, the weather was humid even though it was late at night.

You didn’t stop talking and laughing about what happened earlier, though. You found it hard to let go of it just like that.

"You are so drunk,” Jungkook chuckled as he pulled over. “You’re going to regret it tomorrow." 

"It’s Saturday tom–” you cut yourself off with a yawn. 

“You’re cute when you’re drunk.” Jungkook commented, pulling over, indicating that you were near your apartment. You didn’t even notice. 

“Not drunk, just tipsy.” You said, starting to unbuckle your seat belt but you kept on failing. Your tipsiness was starting to kick in again and everything was a little too hazy in your head.

You still definitely are aware about your surroundings, so aware that you felt Jungkook hunching over your side to unbuckle your seat belt for you, so close that you felt his breath fanning your face.

“Thanks.” You smiled, he returned it.

You opened the door yourself this time, though, and was only a little surprised to see Jungkook getting out of his car too.

“Let me walk you to your door."

And honestly, you should be worried about the possibility of Nayeon being at the apartment and seeing you together, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care when all you could feel was odd content in feeling Jungkook’s presence as you walked towards your place. 

It was quiet but it was comfortable. You noticed how it’s always been like that with him, especially these days.

When you reached your door, you turned to Jungkook who was a little behind you, probably slowed his steps when you neared your place.

“Thanks for walking me." 

"No biggies,” Jungkook grins and then he stares at you for a while.

“What?” You asked. 

He leans down, holds your hip and presses his mouth against your own. 

Surprisingly, you didn’t really make a big deal out of it in your head when you were supposed to because this has never happened before: Jungkook walking you to your door and kissing you before he leaves has never occurred before. 

And yet, it felt so normal. Like it was just something that happens on the daily. Like you were so used to feeling his casual and soft kisses instead of the passionate and hard ones that often led to something. 

“See you next week?" 

You nod, biting your lip as he lets you go. "Yeah." 

Jungkook gives you a one, last small smile before he turns around and goes to his car, entering it and driving away from your complex. 

What a crazy night. 

You did not want to admit it, but maybe the strange feeling in your stomach the other night was goddamn butterflies.

You really weren’t supposed to come with.

But Juyeon, your editor in chief, told you to accompany Ryujin as she goes to interview the basketball team for their second win at the Finals season today. Your responsibility told you that it was fine, which, really is fine because you were used to monitoring freshmen in the club and that was actually one of your official jobs as the managing director but!

You were basically gonna do a babysitting job because Ryujin apparently fucked a guy from the team after she interviewed them the first time and it resulted to a poor article, and as a result, Juyeon is afraid she’s gonna fuck up her future write-ups so you’re the collateral damage of the whole situation. 

Juyeon didn’t tell you that herself, though. Keeping things professional and decent. You heard it from the other members of the club. 

Right now, you have to be at the gymnasium to meet people you’ve never really bothered meeting before and have always avoided for obvious reasons. 

But it was fine.

You checked Ryujin’s questions on the way there and when you arrived, she immediately tried to spot the team’s coach to talk to him about the interview she was gonna conduct. 

Instantly, you felt a prickling sensation on your arms and the back of your neck as the varsity players stopped on their tracks to look at the newcomers. At this hour, you can see no one at the gym seats. You and Ryujin were the only civilians and they noticed that immediately. 

It’s as if you couldn’t help it, but you spotted Jungkook on one of the benches drinking water. As if on cue, he met your gaze, and you could see the little surprise he had on his face seeing you. However, you quickly looked away and walked towards where the coach and Ryujin were.

"I’m here with our managing director, too. She’s here to help me with the interview.” Ryujin told the coach, all smiles. 

“Good day, sir.” You greeted him. He nodded at you in acknowledgement and turned to look at his team. 

“Alright,” The coach loudly said, which got the players to transfix their attention to him instead. You tried not to notice Jungkook looking at you as he walked towards your direction, the other members doing the same. Coach stood straight and elaborated, “The school’s publication is here to interview you about the previous game you’ve had. Practice ends here–” he was cut off by the collective loud cheers from the guys. He shook his head. “But put on your best behavior." 

"Guaranteed, coach.” Someone said but you saw how he sent a wink to Ryujin’s way.

Jesus Christ, where even was the subtlety? It was such a boy-ish thing to do. If you could, you would roll your eyes. Wait – was it the guy she fucked on that interview? Ugh. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care. It was her sex life… just maybe she shouldn’t mix it with her journalism activities… 

“Careful, Kang. I’m gonna make you do ten laps if you don’t give these writers some good material,” The coach warned and some of them snorted. He then turned to both of you and Ryujin. “These guys are very rowdy but you guys will be fine." 

You try to smile at him as he bids his goodbye and leaves the gym. Taejun, the senior sports journalist had already interviewed him so Ryujin only had to do it with the players themselves so they could collaborate on the article. 

Ryujin enthusiastically greeted the team and introduced herself, as well as you. You offered them a small smile and was only a little taken aback when Taehyung chirped your name.

"Hi, Taehyung.” you return his greeting.

He grins at you.

Ryujin looks at you immediately. “Oh, you know someone here?" 

Yeah, technically you knew of some people here. You knew Taehyung though, and you knew Jungkook. But you chose to just nod instead of saying anything. 

Ryujin lets out a happy noise. "That’s so cool!" 

Yeah…

"Hey, surprised to see you here,” Taehyung walked up to you. “I thought you weren’t in the sports section?”

You were surprised to know that Taehyung even remembers what you told him a long time ago. You got to know each other that much during the time you were constantly talking. 

“Well, yes. Ryujin is a freshman, though. I take care of them sometimes, you can say.” You replied. 

Taehyung nodded in understanding. “You’re gonna be here for a while?" 

"We’ll see. But I think the interview will be a quick one." 

Someone from the team called Taehyung and he looked at you apologetically. You nodded with a smile. 

"We always seem so busy whenever we see each other,” Taehyung shakes his head with a laugh. You find that quite funny too. “Hey, do you wanna catch up? Get some coffee around." 

"Oh, yeah, sure. But I bet your sched is crazy these days.” you said, alluding to their constant practices for Finals season. 

“Nah, I can make time. Unless you have a crazy sched too?” He gave you a playful smile. 

You cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes at him. “Not all of us are trying to get our school a big trophy." 

Taehyung laughed at that and his teammates called for him again, this time it was Jungkook. You both looked at him. He had a strange look on his face but you shrugged it off. 

"Well, I better get going. Ryujin’s starting.” He said and pointed back with his thumb. 

The boys were kind of rowdy in the start, but they eventually scattered around the benches doing their own thing as Ryujin talked to them individually, especially the ones who usually play in court. 

You offered to take some of your own notes, too, were kind of bothered that you didn’t really understand some of the terms used and that this was very unusual territory for you to get a material at for writing an article. You never really dabbled on sports writing. 

Eventually, you felt your bladder looking for relief so you told Ryujin that you would be back in a minute. 

It was a little difficult to find the comfort room but you did see it in the far corner of the hallway, a few steps away from the gymnasium. 

You were washing your hands on the communal sink after peeing when the door suddenly opened, revealing Jungkook in his jersey. 

Hand clutching your chest, you looked at him with a scandalized expression. 

“Jesus,” you squint your eyes. “Why are you here?”

Jungkook closes the door and saunters towards the room. “No greetings or anything?" 

You give him an eyeroll and come back to washing your hands as soon as you get over the initial shock of seeing him. 

You simply shrug.

In a second, Jungkook was beside you.

"We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he said, giving you a playful nudge. 

You whisk your hands, ridding the wetness out of your hands. 

“It’s only been three days." 

You see him smile at you through the mirror, and he has that soft look again on his face. You get reminded of your last night together. When he kissed you good night as he dropped you home. 

"I was surprised to see you there,” Jungkook says, turning around and leaning back on the counter. 

You think he’s referring to seeing you at the gym and that makes you chuckle. Why was everyone surprised to see you at the gym? “Why, you think you guys own the gym or something?" 

Jungkook found your sass amusing, though. 

"Come on, you know what I mean." 

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him but ended up laughing for no reason other than he also laughed. 

"Eh, duty calls. Our EIC had me accompany Ryujin, so...” you see Jungkook nodding. You swerve the topic to the next one. “Your big game starts in, like, five days from now.” You mirror his stance and also lean back on the counter. 

Jungkook watched as you did so. “Yeah.”

His eyes are trained on yours, and you hold a weird, intense stare until he finally peels himself off from the counter and walks to you. You’re surprised that you’ve never thought about him in his jersey but you were able to see him earlier like this before and right now, in your close up view, damn. He looked good. Especially with his tattoos all out like that. You really like them. They looked pretty.

“It’s probably gonna be the last game,” you said, referring to the fact that they’ve won the last two games and if they win this one, it would be the concluding point of the Finals season. “You’re going to make the Uni proud?” You arched a brow at him. 

He shrugged. And finally, he crossed the small distance between you and held your hips. You think you unintentionally let out a happy hum at the contact. You’ve been wanting him to touch you as soon as you saw him earlier. For some weird reason. 

“Sure, but only if you’re there for me to give me my personal reward,” The lewd undertone was not lost on you and it made you giggle. Somehow, he’d gotten even closer, fingers caressing your hips in soothing circles. “You look good, by the way. This skirt is new?" 

It is new. You try not to think too much about what it says about you that you kind of thought of him when you placed the order a week ago. It was just a blip of thought, anyway. You swear. 

"Yes. And you’re kinda sweaty,” He really is. But it doesn’t stop you from looping your arms around his neck and Jungkook is only visibly satisfied at the close proximity. 

“Hard at work,” he leans down, but he only nudges your nose. “Can I see your panties?" 

You would have scolded yourself for giggling like a school girl at that question, but Jungkook must’ve realized how stupid that sounded too as he laughed together with you. 

"I don’t know, you’re gonna have to do it yourself. I think.” You whispered, playing into the joke. 

You saw his smirk before he finally closed the hairsbreadth gap between you and touched your mouth against his. He prodded at the seam of your lips with his tongue and you let him access, his tongue swirling with your own as you shared a rather passionate kiss in the sink.

There was a string of saliva between your mouths when he broke free.

“God, I missed your taste.”

It was his last words before he dove in again, kissing you way deeper now, more frantic as well, as he started getting handsy. At some point, his hands on your hips lifted you up until you were seated on the counter, Jungkook kissing you like it hasn’t only been three days since he had you like this. He squeezed your bare thighs that got you whimpering, your hips, waist. Up, up, and up until he was copping a feel on your boobs through your clothes. 

He was kissing your neck when you suddenly felt him untucking your shirt from your skirt. 

“Wait, no,” You tried to get your head out of your previous headspace and took a hold of his wrists. 

“No?” Jungkook stops, looking at you curiously, lips plump, hair a little wild. And with his stupid basketball uniform, it was extremely hard to discourage his advances. 

But…

“Someone might come in,” you say with genuine worry in your voice, pushing him away slightly. 

“There’s not really a lot of people who come to this bathroom,” he tells you. Which, you think, kind of makes sense. Him and his teammates have their locker rooms and their own comfort room that was an extension of the gym (which you pointedly didn’t go to for obvious reasons) and this part of the campus was a little quiet. 

But then again, you did tell Ryujin you would be back in a minute. And it would be quite ironic if Juyeon told you to monitor her because she fucked someone in the team while you go ahead and fail to do that job because you were fooling around with another someone from the same team. 

Jesus. That’s enough crisis for today. 

“Ryujin’s probably going to interview you soon,” you said, tucking your shirt back into your skirt.

You jump slightly to step on the floor, turning around to fix your hair, seeing Jungkook stepping back through the mirror. “Why did you leave the gym, by the way?" 

Jungkook invades your personal space again and presses himself to your back. "I got excited when I saw you…” he whispers in your ear and your whimper betrays your resistance from literally a few seconds ago as you feel something hard on your ass. 

But at the same time, you look at him incredulously through the mirror. He just shrugs as he sees it, gripping your hips again and burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.

“Kook,” you whine.

Jungkook chuckled and before you can do something stupid like give in to his touch, he leaned back and held his hands up. 

“Fine, fine,” he says, still laughing when you turn around to glare at him. “Can I see you later?" 

You jab at his chest lightly. "For being annoying just right now, you can’t " 

His face contorts and pouts. "Aw, come on," 

You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics. 

"We can’t get into anything tonight. Nayeon is staying at home and I’m nervous about her seeing your car if you pick me up,” you tell him. “Also, we can’t go to that place. That cruiser might be back again." 

"Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “We can just go together to my place after this, though? It would be late by the time your friend is finished with the interview."  

You look at him funny. 

He sighs. "Damn, I thought I could finally convince you to fuck at my place." 

You shake your head. "Never.”

From the start, you both agreed to only fuck at your place (whenever Nayeon is not around, of course) per your request. Jungkook lives quite far from the campus, at least far compared to yours, and it was a high complex building. As far as you know, most of the big shots at school live there and he’s neighbors with Taehyung. You don’t want to risk it. 

“Never is a long time..” Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and that breaks you from your thoughts. 

Laughing, you push at him playfully. 

“Gee. You should go. They’re probably now wondering why you’re taking so long." 

"They’re probably thinking I’m taking a shit.” he shrugs. “I think I told Taehyung that before I left.”

“Oh no, is that what they’re going to think about me, too?” You gave him an animated concerned look, making your voice purposely higher in pitch. 

“Wait, what? You take a shit?” Jungkook playing into the joke caused you to laugh and you punched his bicep that he just took with a grin. 

When the laughter died down, Jungkook looked at you seriously.

“When can I see you again?" 

"I don’t know. Sometime this week, maybe? Don’t be whiny.” You smile as you see his pout. “Hey, you really should go now." 

He looked a little hesitant but he didn’t really have a choice. And you were also growing more concerned that someone from the gym might think maliciously about you and Jungkook disappearing at the same time for a long time. Hopefully, no one cared enough to think about it. 

"Alright.” Jungkook says finally and starts to step out. Before he leaves, though, he asks, “Wait, are you going to the game?" 

You hope Jungkook doesn’t see the surprise if it showed on your face. You didn’t expect him to ask that. 

But you try to play it cool, pondering on it. It’s Wednesday, next week, and as far as you knew, there was nothing major in your schedule. You still don’t know about that, though. Maybe some of your profs would drop a big project on your heads come Monday. 

It’s why you were surprised to hear yourself say, "I’ll try." 

Jungkook gave you a wide grin before he left completely.

When you got back to the gym, Ryujin was already talking to him.

Jungkook looked at the door when you entered and did a poor job of hiding a smile to himself, and for what reason, you simply didn’t know. But so as you did not know the reason for why you looked too closely at him to even notice that tiny gesture. 

For someone who was adamant to see you last week, Jungkook wasn’t really able to snuck in time to do so. You shared texts here and there, but he mentioned that they’ve been practicing nonstop since the past few days because they are preparing for a big game, after all. Might be the last one if they come through and win it. 

Come Wednesday, the day of the third game, Jungkook texted you that he got a reserved seat for you at the venue. Your weird giddiness over that was clouded by the worry at the thought of how he managed to do that without anyone suspecting anything about your relationship. You mentally noted to tell him about it later. 

When Nayeon came home after classes, she told you she got two tickets for the game if you wanted to come with. You didn’t really need tickets, though, you could just use your journalist card and they would let you in.

See, you had all these resources to go to the game but the thing is, you have a book review and another assignment due tonight and you needed to get some studying done for a test tomorrow. The game starts at 3 pm and will probably end around 6 or even later than that. It’s not that you never procrastinated in your life but you’ve learned over the years to prioritize more important things over the ones that didn’t really need urgency. And this is why you told Nayeon that you couldn’t come with her because of your packed schedule today. 

But worry looms over you as you remember how excited Jungkook seemed over your texts earlier when you asked him what you should expect at the game. He told you about how it could be chaotic and noisy and crowded but it was gonna be fun and worth your while, especially if – he jokingly said – he scores a shot for you if you were to be there. 

Looking back, you made it sound like you were gonna come but in your defense, you really were going to but these school activities came to you unexpectedly and you didn’t have the luxury of time to set them aside to watch a basketball game first. 

And anyway, was it really a big deal if you didn’t come? You don’t think Jungkook would really mind. Maybe his texts went over your head that you thought he was excited at the prospect of you going to his game. You would tell yourself it didn’t matter, and if Jungkook was going to be shit about it (which you doubt, ‘cause he seemed casual about inviting you) then he was weird for being (hypothetically) weird about it. It wasn’t like this was normal for you both, anyway; you going to his games, that is. 

So around 2 pm, you messaged him. 

[2:06pm] You: Hey, I’m really sorry I can’t go to your game. Swamped with school works, but I wish you good luck :) Go break a leg but hopefully not literally! 

It was hard to focus on writing your book review because you couldn’t help but be agitated as you remembered that they air these Finals games on television and you could literally just turn it on and watch it from there. But the empty document on your laptop was glaring at you, like it was daring you to watch TV instead of finishing it. 

Of course, you chose to tend to the intimidating clean white MS word page instead. As if you really had a choice in the first place. 

At 10 pm, your book review was mostly done and only needed a few touch-ups. You also finished your other assignment so you finally had some time to eat.

You just reheated a leftover pizza from your fridge when you received a text from Nayeon.

[10:11pm] Im Nayeonie: babe im sleeping over at a friend’s so the place is all yours for tonight. don’t forget to lock up ok  [10:11pm] You: Ok! You’ll be back tomorrow morning?  [10:14pm] Im Nayeonie: eh probably around 10am but I’ll see 

You remember that she was at the game earlier. It actually slipped off your mind eventually when you got your head in too deep with finishing your assignments, but now that you’re reminded of it again, you wanted to know how it was.

[10:16pm] You: Hey how was the game?  [10:16pm] Im Nayeonie: oh my ur interested in bb now??  [10:17pm] You: Don’t tease! I just wanted to know if you had fun  [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You snort at the ridiculous emoticon. 

[10:17pm] You: What the hell does that mean?!  [10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: nothing lmaoooo [10:18pm] Im Nayeonie: but the game was fine! it was kinda intense but our uni lost unfortunately): they had a three point difference 

Oh. You usually didn’t care about any sports games that your Uni has but the news deflated you for some reason.

[10:19pm] You: Ah, thats unfortunate

You replied, finding that you didn’t really know what to say. Should you message Jungkook? But what were you going to say? 

[10:19pm] Im Nayeonie: yeah it is it was supposed to be the last game 😖😖 but there’s still 2 more to go anyway im not too worried about it finals went like this last season too [10:20pm] Im Nayeonie: but jungkook’s buzzer beater at game 4 was really insane it’s like all over on twt IK you proly won’t care about it but ill still send you a link HAHAHAH 

Nayeon did send you a link and thankfully you were able to see it even though you didn’t have Twitter, but you looked up "buzzer beater” on Google first. You didn’t understand it completely but slowly did when you played the video she was talking about. 

The camera was a bit shaky and the background was expectedly noisy. The angle shifted to the timer on top of the ring and you could see that there was only ten seconds left. When the lens panned to the court, you saw a player wearing your Uni’s colors and you couldn’t have mistaken Jungkook for anyone when you spotted the tattoo sleeve. He was a bit far from the ring, at that curved line – the three-point line, you learned through the replies – but he successfully shot the ball quite gracefully into the ring and everyone just lost it. Even the person behind the video was cheering exuberantly. You could also make out that Jungkook pumped the air at his own shot in triumph as a buzzing sound overtook the screams before the clip ended. 

Apparently, they were losing in the fourth game, but Jungkook managed to make a three-point shot in the very literal end which got them a chance to play through the fifth.

You scrolled through the comments and found out that it was indeed a tight game and the other team only had a three-point difference with your Uni’s team, like Nayeon said.

It was amazing, in your opinion, but people online could really be shitty.

Some were mocking Jungkook’s buzzer beater in game 4, saying how it was useless and how he could’ve done it again in game 5 but wasn’t able to. You didn’t know shit about basketball but you were very certain it was a rare thing to do in court so the people who were complaining about it could go fuck themselves.

This is why you avoid social media as much as possible. You hope Jungkook doesn’t see those comments. 

You were frowning as you texted Nayeon back. 

[10:26pm] You: That was cool [10:26pm] You: Hey I’ll talk to you soon I’m gonna go eat dinner. Have fun on your sleepover

You weren’t able to see her reply when Jungkook’s name is suddenly plastered all over your screen. You accepted his call on the third ring.

“Hi,” you say. You can’t help but think about the negative comments on Twitter but Jungkook sounded fine when he answered. 

“Hi, baby,” he greeted on his end. “Can I see you?" 

"Sure,” you answer almost immediately. You composed yourself before continuing. “Nayeon will be out until morning. Come over?" 

You can feel his smile through the line as he says, "Nice. Be there in five." 

Per his words, Jungkook did arrive in five minutes and when you heard a knock from your front door, you quickly opened it and ushered him inside. 

"Hey,” you greet him as he removes his stompers off. He slides on your extra fluffy home slippers, your old one that you have been lending him whenever he would come over. You think it’s kind of funny on his feet because the sliders were too small. “I just finished my leftover pizza for dinner so I don’t have any food right now. Do you want me to order in?" 

Jungkook shakes his head. "Nah, I’m not really hungry. Unless you are? Wait, nevermind, I’ll do that." 

He takes out his phone but you stop him. 

"No, no, it’s fine. I actually ordered Chinese while you were on your way so I could beat you to it.” You tease. But you kind of meant it, honestly. He needs to stop paying for everything. But also, the pizza didn’t cut your hunger and you needed to eat rice, anyway, so you ordered in right after your call with him ended.

Jungkook frowned but then shook his head. “Alright." 

"Water?” You asked, going towards the kitchen. 

“Yes, please." 

He followed you on your way there and when you turned around to give him the glass, he snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you. 

It took you by surprise, but you reciprocated immediately. You mirrored his smile when he broke the kiss. He gazed at you, a fond look on his face, and leaned down to press his forehead to yours and said, "Hi." 

You giggle. "Hi." 

Jungkook presses his mouth on you again and you kiss some more for a little while. It was weird because your kisses usually lead to fucking, but this time it didn’t mean anything other than plain kissing, just for the sake of it. You were reminded of that time in high school when you and your first boyfriend often made out (sloppily) in your room because it was all you were ready to do. Jungkook was far more skilled than said first boyfriend, though. And it felt way nicer with him. 

You were the one to pull away, licking your lips and biting the bottom one.

"Do you wanna watch something?" 

"Hm. Hopefully you aren’t going to make me watch Legally Blonde again." 

Your frown is instant. "I thought you liked that movie?" 

Jungkook chuckles and pecks your lips again but you sulk, especially after hearing his next words, "I do, baby. It’s just I’m getting tired of it…” When he sees your frown deepening, he says, “I’m kidding. We can watch it." 

"No, I feel betrayed now.” You break free from his hold and down another glass of water. 

He laughed and was about to say more when your doorbell rang, indicating the food delivery just arrived. Jungkook was the one to volunteer. 

“I’ll go get it." 

You turned on the TV in the living room and sat on the couch.

Jungkook followed almost as quickly after you, placing the bags of Chinese food on the coffee table. 

"Oh, I think we should watch an Adam Sandlers movie. Just something not so serious.” you said just as when Jungkook sat beside you, remembering about his game earlier. You noted that he seemed to be in a good mood when he came in but you never know, maybe he was good at hiding his real emotions or whatever. And, well, maybe you were a little happy to see him laughing like that with you, despite losing an important game.

“I thought you hated him and his movies?" 

You shrug, appreciating that he even remembers that.

"Eh, it’s fine. It's... camp, you know? Sometimes shitty movies are funny because they’re shitty." 

After a while, you get reminded why you don’t watch Adam Sandlers movies. Even Jungkook who laughs at the most stupid jokes didn’t find the supposed punchlines of the movie you were watching funny. But somehow, you found yourselves eventually laughing at how unfunny the film was and only a little surprised when you went through the whole Chinese take-outs not even 30 minutes in the movie. 

"His movies always make my film maker dreams die.” You comment absentmindedly, drinking your water. 

Jungkook looks at you with a surprised expression. “Filmmaker?" 

You try to remember if you mentioned it to him in passing before. By the look on his face, it was probably his first time hearing it.

"Yep." 

"Oh,” Jungkook nods in thought. “I see you didn’t pursue it." 

"Eh, film school is expensive. Also, it’s not a very generous industry for women, so.” You shrug nonchalantly.

It’s a dormant dream for the most part. Sometimes, you want it a lot, but most of the time, not really. Fresh out of high school, you were supposed to major in it but it was way more you could afford, and your family didn't exactly support it. So study education it is. Besides, teaching was a secondary dream that you decided you could pursue, and well, you were doing well with it. These days though, you were planning to go to law school but it's still something you aren't very sure yet.

It’s a drama you don’t want to bother Jungkook with, though. You never had a discussion like this before… and you weren’t really sure if you were ready to open up to someone like that. 

“I did videography in first year,” he shares. You arch your brow at that. Obviously you didn’t know. “I liked it and I was going to major in multimedia arts but dad said it was either be a lawyer or a doctor if I don’t do tech." 

Ah. An overachiever family, you think. His dad owns a really huge tech company – he didn’t tell you that himself, you just heard it from other people in your school. He probably doesn’t even know you knew that. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you right now that his family was full of successful professionals. 

"You went with tech.” You say. 

Jungkook chuckles. “I did. But I made a bargain and said I would only take it if he lets me play basketball. He did let me, but he only tolerates it because I’m passing my classes." 

You nodded, relating a bit. you wouldn't say your parents were particularly strict – but they were extremely practical people who wanted practical lives for their children. They weren’t over-controlling that they smother you with decisions you could make yourself. 

"He really hates it, though.” Jungkook continues. 

“Basketball?” You ask. 

He nods. “Yeah. He thinks I’m thinking of going professional after I graduate, he doesn’t want me to do it." 

"Are you?” You ask, curious. “Going professional, I mean.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I love playing. I'd also like to do tech after college, but it feels like I’m just following in his footsteps if I do that," And as if you didn't know already, he humbly adds, "My father’s in tech, by the way.” -- as if his dad was just a regular guy in the field.

He didn’t say it directly, but you feel like he’s probably being pressured by his dad to do this and that. And that makes you feel bad. Jungkook was always so easy-going, so laidback in a way that you would think he was just some varsity casanova asshole with zero care about their future because they think their looks could get them by through their lives, but he really wasn’t anything like that at all. He joined basketball because he loves it, maybe he gets a high from people admiring him for it but you could say he does it mostly for himself. That’s why he trains so hard and plays so hard in court. Aside from that, he was also really smart – which gets overlooked quite often because of his jock persona, and you know that because you were one of those who did overlook his intelligence before because he was a varsity. But he was smart, alright. He takes his studies seriously just as basketball. 

Jungkook is admittedly a lot of great things. And it was sad that his family seemed to not support him, the way you see it.

But… 

You didn’t really know what to tell him. Is he opening up? It’s just that… you never really talked about these things before and what he’s saying right now is so far from your usual lighthearted and casual conversations and interactions. You drew a conclusion that he probably has a tight relationship with his dad, but you don’t know what to do with that entirely new information. 

“Uhm, you’re good at it, basketball,” And his studies, too. You wanted to say but didn’t. You add, “I saw your beater buzzer from the game earlier. It was really cool." 

"It’s buzzer beater– hey, how did you know about that?” He says with an amused smile. You feel slightly embarrassed at how you mixed up the term but it was kind of complicated, alright! And you were kind of nervous. You find it comforting that he doesn’t tease you about it, though.

“Oh, well. Nayeon texted me about it. Also, you’re like, trending on Twitter.” You just told what Nayeon said. You actually didn’t know if he was trending because you didn’t have an account in the first place. “But don’t go look there, though, you’ll have a migraine." 

Jungkook chuckles and leans back on the couch, relaxed in that position. "Yeah. People on the net can be real assholes."

That comment makes you frown. That probably meant he saw the negative feedback, right? Was he used to it? That would be… upsetting if he was. You knew about the local popularity of the athletes in your school, especially the football and volleyball and basketball players. Jungkook is obviously included in that circle but you feel bad that he has to deal with unnecessary hate. Jobs really are needed for chronically online people, you think bitterly.

Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s phone rang and you didn’t mean to look at his screen but you saw "Dad”. He declined the call. 

“He’s talking my ear off about the game earlier,” Jungkook shakes his head. “He acts real concerned over my loss for someone who’s very unsupportive of my basketball career.” He was grinning while he said it but you could hear the annoyance in his tone, how he shut down his phone to probably dodge future calls from his father.

You turned to the movie in front of you.

“Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go.” You said, effectively changing the subject.

“Hm?” You meet Jungkook’s gaze. He smiles a little. “Ah, I read your text earlier, it’s fine." 

You nodded and tried to focus on the movie again, but you haven’t been following the plot and so you had no idea what they’re showing you now. 

Jungkook suddenly speaks. 

"So are you planning to teach once you graduate? Or take law? You mentioned it before."

Oh. Is he…? 

You could feel his genuine curiosity in that question. But you find yourself hesitating to engage in any more deep conversation with him. It’s not that you didn’t want to share… you’re just not that kind of person. Is he expecting you to lay out your personal drama? 

You choose not to.

"Not sure. I don't want to talk about it."

You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did; clipped and annoyed. As if you didn't want to talk to him. And you could see that he was taken aback, surprised at the sudden change of your tone. But why? You didn’t feel like sharing. And anyway, you were only fuck buddies, right? Are you suddenly becoming bestfriends who tell each other about everything? 

You awkwardly shifted in your seat, eyes trained on the screen in front of you but you felt Jungkook’s stare even while you weren’t looking at him, his eyes boring holes in your side profile. 

You decided to not think too much about the awkward silence throughout the next few minutes, but Jungkook suddenly stood up, looking at his phone.

“I... should get going,” Jungkook announces. 

And you didn’t expect to feel so bummed about it. But somehow, you were relieved. There was suddenly a certain strange energy around and you didn’t know if you could take any more of it.

“Ah, yeah, it’s kind of late…” you trail off. 

Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You delude yourself into thinking it was not fake. He’s never faked a smile with you before. 

“Thanks for the food and for inviting me over.”

“No biggies.” You say as you follow him towards the door. 

It’s silent again when he wears his shoes, and once he was set and ready to go, you could feel that your smile was hesitant as he bid his goodbye. 

“See you around." 

He didn’t offer anything more – he would usually tease you as he goes out, just to rile you up before you part ways. Jungkook just gave a final wave and went on his way.

You had a hard time sleeping that night.

It wasn’t hard to avoid Jungkook all week when he himself seemed to be outdoing you in it.

For the record, you weren’t actually avoiding him for all sense of the word. You needed your space to collect your thoughts from that night and were trying to recover from the awkwardness of the situation because Jungkook and you might not be the best of friends but you’ve never been awkward with each other like that before.

But maybe you should be a little relieved that he hasn’t been texting, or that you haven’t heard from him. Because you weren’t sure if you were able to manage getting out of your shell so soon.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t sting a bit when he didn’t even spare you a glance the other day as you passed each other in the hallways and perhaps you should be celebrating, because yey, he finally did not acknowledge you in some way like meet your gaze and give you a small smile with so many people around that might notice and make a big deal out of it? 

But you wore the black skirt he liked so much! He was supposed to text you something stupid like "nice skirt :) i wanna see it pooled around my lap” by the end of the day but no! No such thing happened. 

Was he mad at you, is that it? Why would he be mad though? Did he seem mad that night? Did you do something that guaranteed this... Whatever this is? As far as you knew, you did not say anything that warranted a silent treatment from him. Did you? Wait, is he actually giving you the silent treatment? 

Ugh. 

When Thursday came, you found yourself watching their fourth game on TV together with Nayeon. You got a slight whiplash because it felt like your first time seeing Jungkook’s face in a long while. Somehow, he looked even better on TV, and he was so serious whenever the camera caught him. You supposed he ought to be, but you’ve never seen him that serious before. He would smile whenever they scored, and maybe it was a little embarrassing for your heart to do a little jump when you saw that toothy grin again, after so long.

You were slow to understand shit about the game, but you got the whole gist of it eventually. 

Unfortunately, though, the tight game resulted to your university losing in the end.

You wanted so badly to text him something, anything, but you felt like you weren’t on texting terms, so you went to your Instagram and sent Jungkook a direct message. 

[11:58pm] ynblips: Hi! I watched the game on TV and it was really tight and you did so well :)

You were mostly not expecting a reply, so you were only a little disappointed when you indeed didn’t get one even after a day passed. But he liked it, only liked it. Which kind of pissed you off.

What was his deal? You’ve gathered that you, apparently, weren’t on speaking terms, for some reason. But this was ridiculous. If he had a problem with you, he should be upfront about it. Not make you guess with this stupid giving-you-the-cold-shoulder thing when you didn’t even deserve it. For god’s sake, you knew that last meeting was awkward but you both usually do a good job of swerving those situations and moving on and acting casual! You’ve been casual for four months! This relationship was supposed to be easy. Smooth-sailing. So what changed now? 

Nayeon noticed your crankiness earlier this day, and it concerned you, how much this whole thing was affecting you.

But you’ve grown tired of not knowing anything. You were tired of guessing why Jungkook was being like this. 

So you were a woman with a mission today. You planned to talk to Jungkook so he could finally be a big boy and talk to you about his obvious problems with you. Because it had to be that, right? He wouldn’t talk to you because he had issues with you. 

Later that day, your quest was made easy when you saw him at the library. 

You’re only a little surprised with yourself when you walk towards his direction with the presence of many people around. Yeah, whatever. 

“Hey,” you called. 

You could see Jungkook’s eyes widening a little as he turns around to see you, his hand stopping from taking notes on his iPad as he looks up at you. 

“Oh, hey,” he greets you, but you can see he is a little confused as he takes out his airpods. You never talked to him on school grounds whenever people were around. He neither did, though. It was a mutual agreement. 

“We need to talk." 

Jungkook looks in between you and the book and notes he was doing, and you would understand if he tells you to fuck off because he was busy – maybe not with those exact words because you’d probably take it to heart and cry about it, but he’s taken you by surprise when he says, 

"Okay. Let me just fix this.” Jungkook closes his book and his iPad, stuffing them in his bag. 

You anxiously tap your shoe on the floor, though not with sound, aware of the people looking at your interaction with the school’s basketball star player. 

“Where to?” He asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder. 

“Just, uh, follow me." 

He surprisingly does without further questions, and you begin to second-guess yourself about being kind of mad at him for seemingly being mad at you. Maybe you were reading too much into these past few days? Maybe he really wasn’t mad at you and you just assumed so because he suddenly stopped texting you? It’s not that you needed an explanation for why he wasn’t talking to you suddenly. He had a life outside having a friends with benefits situation with you and you know that. 

Jungkook stopped when you halted your steps at the far end of the library. It was the old theology section and no one really comes around here anymore so it was quiet and free of lingering, poorly hidden stares from other strangers, who you prefer to not be included in this conversation you are about to have.

Shit, should you have just texted him and told him to come over so you could talk more in private? But you doubted he would reply, and anyway, Nayeon would be home so you had no private space to do that. 

"Okay,” you start. “Let’s talk." 

Jungkook quirks a brow, leaning back on a cabinet. 

You look at him one more time and sigh. 

"You’ve been avoiding me.” You didn’t really mean to say it in such a heavy tone, but it came out that way and you couldn’t take it back. 

Jungkook is caught off guard. 

“Huh?"

You frown. "You’re avoiding me. And I don’t know why and I couldn't care less, usually, but I'm confused and I don’t want to guess anything with you so just say it now." 

There, you’ve blurted it all out. 

Jungkook took a long time, but you feel yourself getting angry when he only says, "I’m not upset with you." 

Really? Really?! Is he really planning to to do this right now? What’s next, is he going to call you crazy for thinking that he was mad at you because he suddenly stopped talking to you altogether? Un-fucking-believable. 

"I know you are, just say it.” You say, trying to balance your emotions. He really is gonna call you crazy if you lash out. 

“I’m just busy with practice.” but the way he said it so dismissively, like he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, makes you frown even harder. 

“You can’t even text me?” You called out. You didn’t know why you said that, because you did just tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t text you. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he confirmed it.

“I don’t owe you an explanation."

You bite back your tongue. Wow, is he going for asshole today? But it hurt, because it was true. He didn’t need to give you an explanation. You weren’t anything important, and nor was he in your life, in any way, so why are you genuinely hurt by this?

When Jungkook noticed your silence, a flash of conflict in his expression, he decided to add, "Look…” he trailed off, as if not really having any idea what to say next. When he gave you that placating look, you knew he was about to say something that will completely piss you off.

“Is it about the sex? I’m sorry we haven’t been able to do that the past few days. Do you want to have sex today?”

You felt anger boiling in your chest as soon as he said that.

He really is going for asshole today.

What in the actual fuck? He thinks you’re confronting him because you haven’t been having sex? Why would he say that like you were just some desperate whore frothing in the mouth to bed him? Does he think of you so low like that? Did he not consider that maybe you were just genuinely concerned of feeling so distant to him right now? 

You swallow the lump in your throat and scowl at him. 

“You know what, fuck you. I asked you nicely what’s your problem with me.”

Jungkook was visibly surprised with your outburst, and you were disappointed in yourself to even show an ounce of reaction to that bullshit he just said.

But he just looks away, eager to avoid the look on your face. “You didn’t ask that, you went ahead and accused me of avoiding you when you’ve been doing the same thing." 

"Oh, so you are admitting to avoiding me. What’s the issue? Say it.” You demanded. But Jungkook wasn’t having any of it. 

“I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? Why are you acting so upset about all of this?" 

To even throw that on your face was cruel, and you think you saw a flash of hesitation on his face when he said that, but it was blank after a split second. It’s blank until now, like he doesn’t really give a shit. 

Great. 

"I just want you to talk to me if you’re upset with me about something.” You say, even though that wasn’t really what you intended to say. It felt like defeat.

You feel pathetic all of a sudden, remembering his words. Why are you so upset about all of this? Because clearly, you care. And apparently, he did not. He didn’t have to put that to words. He didn’t have the right to hurt you like this. 

“Talk?” Jungkook repeats. “The last time we did that, you didn't seem to want to." 

His words have a bite to them, like he means more than that. And that night flashes in your head. When he was opening up to you, and you chose to disengage by being cagey and avoiding it all together because you felt weird about it. 

When you don’t answer, Jungkook sighs. 

"I have practice in five minutes. I’ll see you around." 

He doesn’t even say goodbye or spare you a last glance when he walks away. 

You are a turtle. 

Obviously, not literally. But turtles, when bombarded, reflexively duck their heads inside their shells to protect themselves before any damage could be done to them. And the same could be said about you. 

You avoid problems like a champ. It’s the only sport that you’re really great at. 

Growing up, you’ve never really had a lot of friends. You had a small circle in high school but you didn’t see a significant value in your connection. Maybe because you grew up in an environment where love was non-existent and the relationships in your house were transactional at best, still are. Until now, you have no idea if your parents loved each other at one point or if they were always like that; like two different strangers working jobs during the day that just happen to have the same house to go to at night so you and Jini have some people to call "mom” and “dad”. You guessed you’ll never know, but it was hard not to think that their relationship has always been the latter. Your relationship with your sister mirrors that of your parents’, though, so you can’t really criticize them for not acting like partners enough.

When you were young, you hated the way you approached friendship or any sort of relationships a lot. You hated how it was so easy for others to befriend one another, how it was easy for girls your age to have a life outside of studying. You hated how easy it was for other people to not build these sturdy walls whenever someone approached them. But you just kind of grew into it along the way… 

Social networking is important for college, though, and you were forced to have friends but you did make friends willingly along the way. It was not that you are a total sociopath, nor do you think you are one. Nayeon was a sweetheart who was very likeable and you’ve had the pleasure of being roommates with her for two years now. You are close to a certain point, but it wasn’t like you were best friends. She was two years older than you and was on her last year of college and had her own close circle of friends. The closeness was a result of living a domesticated life with each other because you lived in the same house. But you genuinely like her.

And you’ve actually met more people you genuinely liked when you went to college, not just her. Like Taehyung. He was a fun conversationalist, and you feel like you could totally hit it off only if you weren’t too hesitant to befriend him. Juyeon is probably the most hardworking woman you’ve ever met, and most of your liking towards her has a lot to do with the respect and admiration you have for her. And then there was Namjoon. A guy two years your senior during your sophomore year who you've had a short fling with. He was a great guy whom you actually saw yourself dating, but it was a bit complicated. And then Jungkook…

Well… he was everything you imagined him not to be.

You still remember the first time you saw him during orientation day. He wore this huge white sweatshirt and light-washed cargo pants with some stomper boots, hair curly and so fluffy as he slung his bag over his shoulder, talking animatedly with a friend. You’ve had crushes in high school (like that one senior guy from the debate team who turned out to be an asshole so you got over it pretty quickly) but it was the first time you’ve ever felt so strongly like that. Your crush faded eventually though when you learned he was a jock.

However, the universe made different plans. You both had the same code for your first term Philo class and got partnered on a project, and unexpectedly, he turned out to be smart, kind, witty, so unbelievably handsome and attractive and actually wasn’t an asshole like you thought he was when you found out he played in the varsity team. That was the start of your pathetic minor pining over the guy and then four months ago happened.

You hit it off at a random party Nayeon told you to come with her to. Had enjoyable sex. And then another. Until you both talked about the agreement – the stupid agreement that you have now still. 

You like him a lot. Always have. In more ways than one. 

You were an expert at hiding your feelings so it never really got in the way. And anyway, you aren’t ready for a relationship so the arrangement has always been perfect for you. 

But you hated that. Because, really? This part of your life feels like some pages taken out of a shitty young adult fiction book. Falling for the popular jock at school at the same time your fuck buddy. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You weren’t supposed to like him more than you already have because you were both clear at what you wanted when you started it. But it happened and all those fun times with him at the abandoned lot and the soft kisses and gentle smiles and fond gazes and funny conversations and his stupid teasing are most likely going down the drain because you hurt him with your inability to face your feelings. 

You aren’t stupid. You know Jungkook likes you too. You know the past few weeks have been dangerously teetering outside the line of being fuck buddies but you went along with it because who wouldn’t? What were you to do, anyway? Confront it? You’ve never been confrontational. 

So when Jungkook tried to get to know more than your outer surface by opening up to you about things that probably no one other than you knew, you cowered. 

You cowered because you were afraid of what that would entail.

You’ve never done it, opening up to people. You’ve never known anyone to a point like that. You just weren’t the type to get too close to others, them letting them you in their lives just as you let them in yours. That wasn’t who you were and you’ve always been contented with that for most of your life.

But it wasn’t fair to Jungkook and it wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook because he deserved to know that you care. He deserves to know that you want to know him, too. You want to be close to him more than just the physical, sexual aspect of your relationship. You want to know his intentions behind the overly kind, almost special way he treats you, his caring words, the meaning behind his soft kisses after sex, the purpose behind those kisses that didn’t lead to sex.

And lastly, you want him to know that you were sorry for the other night.

So when another Friday rolled, you finally mustered up the courage to go to his game. It was the last one, after all. You wanted to show up. 

The venue was crowded and chaotic and you wanted to ditch but you decided it was fine. You were gonna endure it if it meant you finally got to see Jungkook physically in court. 

And saw him, you did. Even though you were in the middle row seats and wearing a cap because you oddly felt unwelcomed and didn’t want to be seen by him – as if he would even want to see you. But it was whatever. 

Jungkook was… amazing. That was really the only adjective you could use to describe how he was. Maybe you were a little biased but he was the greatest out of all the ten people running around the court. He just stood out, even when someone else did the good job of scoring. 

And people around you seemed to think so too because whenever he did get to score or was the one holding the ball or his face got shown on the huge screen, everyone just lost it.

The match was tight again so it bled into five games. Your Uni just needed to win the last one and they would successfully bring the trophy home.

You found yourself silently cheering for your team, specifically Jungkook, though it felt strange to you because this was your first sports game, after all. But it felt good to do it. It also felt good to see other people so passionate at cheering him on as well as his team, especially after you read all that hate against him on the internet the other week.

And it felt especially great when they did win in the end of it all. 

The stands went wild as the game finished with your Uni scoring a solid 105 and 96 for the other. 

You’ve stayed long to see Jungkook being awarded the MVP title, but not long enough to find it difficult to get an Uber as you went home. 

Nayeon got to your place later than you, but you learned that she wasn’t at the game earlier but was in a study group instead.

You ordered dinner for the both of you, just some Chinese that you quickly finished up. 

By 11 pm, you were panicking. 

You had a solid plan yesterday. You were supposed to go to Jungkook and apologize to him and whatever but how the hell were you going to do that when you had no idea where he was now? Ugh. You should’ve approached him after the games earlier! But you didn’t feel comfortable doing that with so many people around… 

You saw your phone on your night stand and got an idea to just text him. But you didn’t know if he was going to respond. If he was going to tell you to fuck off, you at least didn’t want to receive that through text. 

So you opted for the last and craziest option you’ve got. 

[11:08pm] You: Hello, Taehyung! I know we haven’t talked in a while and I’m sorry for texting you now, I just have some questions if you don’t mind :) Congrats on winning Finals by the way, it was a great game.

You anxiously wait for his reply that you received not even a minute after you sent your text. 

[11:08pm] K. Taehyung: hi __ HAHAHHA im a bit surprised to see your name on my phone!! we’ve never gotten around having that coffee 😅 but thank you for the congrats! hit me with those questions i don’t mind  [11:09pm] You: It’s a real bummer that we’ve both been so busy ):  [11:10pm] You: But I was wondering if you know where Jungkook is? Last week he lent me a jacket when he saw me pour a drink on myself at some cafe, haha. So I was thinking I should give it to him now but I have no idea how to

Listen, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. You indeed needed to find Jungkook, and he lent you a jacket weeks ago which you needed to return but you forgot about it and conveniently remembered it just earlier when you were trying to conjure up an excuse to see him.

[11:10pm] K. Taehyung: oh i was actually just talking to him awhile ago. he wouldn’t go to the after-game party. said he was gonna stay up all night to play overwatch or something  [11:10pm] K. Taehyung: I can text you his address if you want to come over like right now

You feel like you aren’t supposed to just give your friends’ addresses away like that but it is flattering to think that Taehyung must trust you enough to not assume you were a psychopath serial killer or something. 

[11:11pm] You: Yes, please. Thank you so much, Taehyung. Catch up on that coffee hang another time

You got an Uber to drive to his place. You tried not to think too much about the fancy complex and how there were elevators instead of just stairs like yours but you managed to get to Jungkook’s place through Taehyung’s text. 

You pressed a button upside the knob. It created a loud buzz and you tighten your fingers around the ribbon handles of the paper bag that got his jacket inside. 

It was the perfect excuse. You did need to return it to him. And if you got too flustered or scared to talk to him further, you were just going to leave right after he takes it from you and just accept the fact that he probably really hates you now because you were mean and—

The door opens, revealing Jungkook. A shirtless, wet Jungkook. 

“Oh." 

Jungkook has a hint of shock in his eyes when he comes face to face with you. You’ve never been here, for the record. And he was probably wondering how the hell you got his address.

"Uh,” you start. You thrust the paper bag towards him. “Here. It’s your jacket from weeks ago. I washed it already. Thanks for lending me it.”

You see his hesitation when he takes it from you, and it makes your nerves go haywire. 

Jungkook mumbled a little thanks. He stood there for a moment, probably still not getting the shock out of his system. As each second passed, you felt the need and the urge to go, but his voice cut that idea in your head.

“Uh. Do you wanna come in?" 

"Yes.” Maybe it was too much of an immediate answer, but you needed to. If you were to stand outside much longer, your courage will wear down and you might miss an opportunity to talk to him. 

Jungkook stepped aside and further invited you in. Your steps were a little shy as you followed him inside, watching as he took a pair of Nike sliders and offered it to you as you removed your birkens off your feet.

“Thank you.” You tell him, sliding your feet on the slippers that were definitely too big for you. 

He gave you a small smile in return. That gave you a bit of hope that it would go well tonight. 

“I’m just gonna go and change into something. You can sit here,” You followed behind him into the living room of his rather huge flat. Really, this was more of a condo unit than an apartment. “There's– sorry. I wasn't– it’s kind of messy here right now but I was busy the past few days. It’s not usually like this here." 

Jungkook hastily arranged the scattered throw pillows on the couch. You even hear him hissed as he picked up a bowl and some take-out trash on the coffee table. He reached for something in the tight corner of the couch, holding up a remote awkwardly for you.

He quickly looked away from you though, turning to his huge TV (it was literally a jumbotron) and making it light up. It showed some kind of game on pause.

"I’m sorry, I was playing something earlier. Uh, do you want to play anything? I have a lot of games.” He continued to say.

And you realized Jungkook was panicking. He was rambling, talking words over his own words, jumping from one thing to another and hastily cleaning up the space in the living room.  

It was… adorable. The way he was kind of scrambling… to accommodate you? Eh. But it was nice. Nice to know that you aren’t the only one panicking.

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really play anything.” You say honestly. You don’t like gaming. It’s stressful. 

“Oh…” Jungkook trails off then his eyes set on the kitchen. “Oh shit wait, do you want water? Tea? I don’t think I have tea but I think I can look for something?" 

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out from your mouth but you quickly cut yourself off. 

"Sorry. Uhm. No. I don’t want anything.” Truthfully, you wanted water but Jungkook needed to change into something immediately. You may not exactly be talking talking right now but his body and tattoos were nice to look at and you didn’t want it to distract you too much. It felt wrong to admire him like that when you were not exactly in great terms. 

“You sure?” When you nodded, Jungkook did the same too, but more like to himself. “Okay. I’ll just get to my room." 

You sat on his nice leather couch and looked around as Jungkook changed.

It was such a nice place. You could see that it was indeed expensive. The space was definitely, like, three times larger than your own and it even seemed to have another room on the far end. You didn’t know if Jungkook lived alone, he never mentioned anything about it. 

You still didn’t find yourself completely relaxed as Jungkook emerged from his room. 

The fringe of his bangs are still wet from his shower, but he’s now changed into a grey hoodie with matching shorts. 

"Hey,” he said as he walked towards you and sat on the couch. The distance was far but not totally that you end up being on the opposite sides. 

“Hi,” you greeted him back. “You have a nice place." 

He smiles. "Thank you." 

The atmosphere was incredibly awkward, you could feel that. But you pushed yourself to go through it. 

"Congrats on the game earlier.” You tell him sincerely. 

“Ah… thanks." 

"I went there." 

"Really?” You could see the understandable surprise in his face after hearing your words. “I didn’t see you." 

You chuckle lightly. "Hm. You were too serious and busy in the court to see me.”

Jungkook shyly looks away. 

“I– well. You should have told me. I could’ve gotten you a nice seat. Did you get a nice seat?” The sentiment was cute but surprising at the same time. After that time in the library, you wouldn’t have expected him to get you a nice seat. 

“It was okay." 

It didn’t look like he would say anything more, but you were a little relieved to have a break from the atmosphere when the door buzzed again, indicating someone coming. 

You feel your heart jump.

You didn’t know why your mind went to such dark places like him having someone over to do– what? Ugh. Jungkook wouldn’t do that, would he? Honesty was what you agreed on when you started this agreement. You promised to tell each other right away if you start sleeping with other people because of health reasons. 

"That must be the pizza.” Jungkook murmurs as he stands up.

You almost sigh in relief.

Okay. So no other women coming over. 

Jungkook comes back a moment later with three boxes. 

“I thought we could eat something,” he said as he sat on the couch again, this time a little closer than earlier. He looked at the TV, still on that game he was playing. He placed the pizza on the table and took the remote to exit out of his game, pressing some buttons on it and eventually the screen loaded to Netflix. “You wanna watch something?" 

That would be nice, actually. 

"Yep." 

"Okay… uh. Legally Blonde?" 

You couldn’t help your eyebrow from raising. 

Jungkook laughs a little. You’re a little surprised to hear it. It felt like eons ago since you’ve heard it.

"I like it a lot.” He shrugged and then looked it up on Netflix, clicked the movie poster and pressed play.

You start eating the pizza on the couch. You were obsessed with Legally Blonde probably an abnormal amount but this time, its entertainment didn’t affect you full force because at the back of your head, you’re still trying to figure out how to speak up the words you really wanted to say to Jungkook. 

“Hey…” you suddenly speak. You hesitate for a while but then let out a heavy breath. Jungkook looks at you because of that. “I’m sorry." 

His confusion was anticipated. He face looks like he was ready to ask, but you continue, 

"About the other night. Uh. When you went over. I’m sorry. I made you feel like I didn’t care but…” you train your gaze to the remote on the corner of the couch. “But I do, Jungkook. I care about you. It’s just that, it freaked me out, you know? People never felt comfortable enough with me to share such personal things and I’ve always been okay with that because I’m not exactly—” you cut yourself off, trying to organize your thoughts. But you give up because there was no use in doing such. You wanted to be honest as much as possible. “I know I don’t exactly strike people as someone who can care. And, well, that’s true, you know? People always tell me that I almost function like a robot. So, uh, I freaked out, because I thought you trusted me enough to do that and I felt like I didn’t deserve it, your trust I mean. And so I acted like that because I didn’t know what—”

“Hey,” Jungkook stopped you before you could go on a full spiral. You didn’t notice because of your rambling earlier but he was closer this time. “Breathe. It’s fine. I have all the time to listen to you." 

It was such a sweet sentiment, paired with his charming smile. You feel your heart jump and look away from his gaze. 

"Baby," 

There. He’s calling you that name again. Has he forgiven you? Were you both on that terms again? But he couldn’t have forgiven you that fast! 

"Baby, look at me,” you did, because he held your face in his warm hands, making you look at him. You could feel your cheeks tingle in his hold. “I’m actually so glad you came here tonight. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” He says, voice sounding so sincere.

You looked down, feeling like you don’t deserve it at all. 

“I’ve been thinking, you know?” Jungkook lifts your chin up with his fingers, smiling, such mirth behind it that you think he was probably thinking you were going to tease him about his words. But you didn’t feel like joking with him right now. “I totally didn’t think things through that night. I shouldn’t have told you all about my personal drama—"

Oh, no. That’s exactly what you thought you made him feel that night, and for him to verbalize it, it hurts you. Because you knew you truly made him feel that way. It wasn’t your intention but you knew your reaction –or lack thereof– threw him off. 

"No, no. I should have—" 

"No, ___, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that onto you expecting you to have a say about it and be disappointed and extremely hurt when you didn’t. We don’t know each other a lot, I know that." He gives you a sheepish smile. "I guess I just... I wanted us to know each other a little better you know? But I must’ve freaked you out instead and made you uncomfortable with me telling you all about those when we made it clear that this relationship was never going to be like that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping. I kind of… realized that... maybe you just wanted some lazy time with me that night. So I’m sorry. I believe you're also apologetic about it, but I’m saying don’t be. It was all on me." 

Jungkook’s words were a jumbled mess in your head that you were surprised to even get them. 

"I–no, no. Kook– I… told you, I care about you. I—” you felt a metaphorical block in your head, and it made you cut yourself off. But then you remember his words and so you continue, “I didn’t just– look. It was unexpected, and I told you I just freaked out because I didn’t know where we stood and I just felt like I wasn’t deserving to know you like that. But I care a lot about you.”

Jungkook was quiet for a while, and you feared he was contemplating and thinking you were just lying to get over everything with. But then his face softens at your words. “I care a lot about you, too,” He says, and then it contorts a little, as if he remembered something. “That’s why I’m also… I’m also sorry about that time at the library. I was a complete asshole to you. I wanted to be mean because I was hurt but none of it was your fault. I really am sorry." 

Your head takes you back to that time in the library. He did hurt you with the harsh words he’d spoken, but his apology sounded sincere and you believe it. 

"Yeah. Uhm. I’m sorry about cornering you there. I should’ve texted you that I wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure if you were going to reply." 

Jungkook looked a little shameful for reasons that you couldn’t think of. 

"I’m sorry about that. I acted like such a boy about the whole thing. You don’t deserve to be ghosted suddenly because you hurt my feelings without you even really knowing why. I should’ve talked to you properly." 

You bite your lip, feeling like you were suddenly going to cry.

You know it was the bare minimum, and even though he said you had nothing to be sorry about, you still feel oddly emotional about someone apologizing to you. You’d never been apologized to sincerely even when a lot of people have done you wrong and hurt you before. They always thought you didn’t care or just got over things quickly because apparently, people had the impression that you weren’t the type to feel anything. 

"I like you a lot.” You blurt out. 

It was stupid. It was so stupid to say that in the middle of this conversation, but your mouth was running faster than your brain and you couldn’t help it. 

“Really?” Jungkook grins, and it was quite big. Your heart beats faster in your chest. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot. Probably more than you do.”

You meet his eyes finally. They hold such fondness for you, and you’ve always noticed. But you brush it away just as it shows. Regular, old, __. Always pushing away people who like her.

Right now, you’re berating yourself for pointedly ignoring that before, but his dark eyes serve as a distraction. They were so ominous and so big and looked like they had the stars in them. And he was so handsome. Suddenly, your gaze falls to his lips and quickly trains to the mole under the bottom one. You’ve always wanted to kiss it but never did so because… because, well. It would be weird, right? But then you remember that Jungkook always kisses that mole in between your chest... 

You blush at the thought and look away. 

“That’s nice.” You said, not really knowing how to respond. 

Jungkook chuckled and twisted himself to look forward again, at the TV playing Legally Blonde. 

It was like that for a while and you found that the weight you’ve been carrying all week on your back felt like it’s been lifted, finally. 

This night was going really, really well. 

And so well it went.

Legally Blonde ended and you and Jungkook somehow ended up being closer. So close that his arm just found its way around your shoulders, your leg across his, his other arm wrapped around that leg to pull you impossibly closer to him onto the next film. 

It’s been half an hour into the new movie but if you were honest, your brain wasn’t really on it. It was on how Jungkook held you delicately, his mouth pressing kisses on the crown of your head occasionally, almost absentmindedly. Your thoughts were filled with the soft, gentle caresses of his hand on your leg, and how you would feel his eyes even when you weren’t looking. It was all so tender and just so, so incredibly nice. 

When you yawned, Jungkook immediately checked on you with a light chuckle. 

“Sleepy?” He asks. 

You shake your head but another yawn forced its way out of your mouth again. You let your head fall dramatically on his chest as he laughed. 

“I gotta go…” you said, thinking that it’s probably late as hell and dark outside. But you found that you really didn’t want to. The material of his hoodie was so soft and his presence was so calming and it sounded undeniably cheesy but you wanted to be held by him a little more. 

“You could stay." 

That made you look up at him. 

"Huh?" 

"You can stay here, if you want. Sleep over." 

"Oh." 

A flash of hesitation on his beautiful face.

"Only if you want to, of course. I’ll drive you home if you wanna go.” He offers quickly, as if embarrassed to even suggest the thing he said earlier. 

But you did want to stay. But… he never stayed over at your place. You didn’t let him and he never expressed a little bit of desire to do so, anyway. Would it be unfair if he never slept over at yours but you would at his now? What did your conversation today change? When he said “I like you”, did that mean it was okay for you to stay the night? 

“Uhm, I’d like to stay here, if it’s okay with you.” You said, throwing your inhibitions away. There was no room for more denials in your heart. 

Jungkook’s bright grin made your worries subside. He definitely wants you to stay as much as you do. 

“Okay." 

"It’s okay for you? Sorry, I don’t have a lot of pillows…” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you sheepishly. 

You waved him off. “It’s fine. Hey, come here now." 

Jungkook did a poor job of hiding a big grin again as he slid on the bed with you.

When you twisted yourself so your back was facing him, about to reach for your phone on the night stand to see if Nayeon replied to your text telling her you wouldn’t be home until morning, Jungkook also did the same and wrapped his arm around your waist, basically spooning you. 

And you realized that oh, he’d mistaken you for wanting to be a little spoon… 

But it was cute. And you really like him holding you, so you pretended it was your intention all along and mentally noted to check your phone tomorrow morning.

"You smell good.” He said against your ear. You smiled at the way it tickled a bit.

“I don’t think I do anymore, but thanks.”

You showered right after coming home as the game ended but that was many hours ago, so surely Jungkook must just be speaking nonsense. And anyway, he was the one who smelled nice because he did just get out of the shower. He smelled like that certain apple scent he always did. 

“No, really. Like flowers. I always liked that about you." 

"Eh, it’s probably just my bath and body works body wash." 

"Really?” You felt him sniff up your arm and you giggled. That reaction encouraged him to do it more until his nose reached your armpit. It tickled so much that you thrashed and turned and bit his arm. His laughter got louder as you did so, but you only pouted at him. 

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” Jungkook said but he didn’t look like it. You didn’t expect it but he suddenly kissed your forehead. Your eyes reflexively closed at the feel of his lips on your skin. 

You open them once again only to see Jungkook staring into your eyes again, quite intensely that you feel like he was there looking right into your soul. 

“I missed you.” He whispered, his hand that was around your waist tightening, the other clearing up your face from stray hairs. 

“I really missed you too.” you said as sincerely as you could. Because you really did, and you hope he could feel it and believe it just like you did his words. 

A few seconds after and then his lips finally touched yours and it was such a relief that you sighed against them. It was a slow kiss. Sweet and too short but you didn’t really mind when Jungkook looked at you again like you hung the stars in the sky. 

“Let’s sleep baby, turn around for me again.” He said and you wanted to reprimand him for ordering you around but you didn’t really feel like you needed to. You didn’t really have complaints about being the little spoon in this cuddling session, anyway.

It was only about a minute of silence when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

“Babe, I know I’m probably going to ruin this wholesome moment but can I hold your boob while we try to sleep?" 

And you couldn’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t. 

"Go for it.” You said, settling against his chest, getting more comfortable. Jungkook was only too happy to let you, letting out a low happy hum as he held you tighter, another hand wandering inside the worn out shirt you were wearing that he lent you for the night. 

The contact was cold to the touch at first, but when he gave you a squeeze and finally rested his hand over there, it got warm eventually.

Having a weight on top of your boob while sleeping was definitely a new concept for you, but you found that it was oddly comforting.

There was nothing sexual to it, not really. And you thought Jungkook didn’t really have any sexual intentions to begin with. 

It was just nice to have his hand on your breast. 

“So soft,” Jungkook whispered at some point and you just chuckled in between putting yourself in slumber.

It’s been hard to settle in bed peacefully the previous nights after that debacle weeks ago, but that moment, you slid to dreamland quite easily; and you were certain it was due to Jungkook’s warm body all over yours.

EPILOGUE

( ONE MONTH LATER )

You have awoken in a feverish feeling brought by the dream of a certain man drawing all kinds of shapes on your clit with his skillful tongue. At first, the sensation felt far away, like it was just a distant memory, but you suddenly feel a seemingly too real grip on your thighs and a tentative swipe over the length of your nether region. 

When you blearily open your eyes, the sunlight intruding through the seams of your room, you caught a sight of a very real man’s head in between your legs, his dark hair pulled by a headband as he determinedly pleasures your pussy.  

“Jungkook,” you sigh, blindingly reaching for his head. 

He hums in your pussy, and it sends a jolt right up your spine. He felt you jumping a little, and that earned a chuckle from him. The vibration of it in your aching heat made your legs quiver. 

“Good morning, baby." 

It was a little disorienting to wake up to Jungkook eating you out so early in the morning, but the pleasure overrode it as you throw your head back on your soft pillows, twisting your face to the side and burying it on the fluffy material as Jungkook sucks on your clit, his finger teasing over the lips of your pussy. 

”Ah, that feels so good…" you moan, thrashing on the bed at the delight brought by his tongue. But Jungkook’s strong hold kept your legs wide for him to have complete access to your wet cunt which he’s licking like it was a meal he’s always wanted to have. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” he said, beginning to place open mouthed kisses on your pussy that delivered delirious shivers all over your body. He emphasized his sentiment by bringing two fingers in your hole, sliding them in and out quite easily as you felt yourself gushing every second from his actions. “So wet. You love this, angel? You like what I’m doing?" 

All you could give him was a pathetic little whimper that you hope he understood as he didn’t bother to wait for your response and proceeded to wrap his mouth on your clit again, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with the steady way his fingers slipped in and out of you, lewd squelches filling the otherwise quiet room except for the chirping bird outside.

And it sounded oddly poetic. 

So peaceful. Oh, to wake up like this everyday. 

Your grasp on his hair tightened, bringing his face closer to your pussy that you even got a hold of his headband, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how delicious Jungkook is speeding his fingers in your entrance, long and bony digits touching every ridge of your pussy, slowly but surely sending you to your edge. Your breath quickened every second passed, and now you could say you were fully awake. 

Jungkook broke away from you and you were just about to reprimand him about it when he suddenly licked a long, slow stripe over the wet length of your entrance and you cried out.

You were nearly brought to tears when he dove in your core again to repeat his actions from earlier, but this time, he went for messy. So sloppy; his head moving around your pussy, sucking your juices with enthusiasm and making your arch your back on the mattress, his finger rubbing your clit to bring you to your orgasm. 

And he did successfully bring you to it. He did with what seemed to sound like a painful groan of your name from his throat, a husky sound that made your pussy and legs quiver. But that didn’t stop Jungkook from lapping at the cum that dripped out. 

You let out a big breath, making yourself bounce on the bed as you fell to it. Exhausted. Spent. 

"Kook,” you nudged Jungkook with your foot to his bicep because he was doing that thing again. 

“Wanna clean you up." 

You roll your eyes. It was so counterproductive but you let him be for awhile, relaxing on your back as he quite literally slurped the gush that came and is still coming out from you. That was why him "cleaning you up” was useless. 

“Let me suck your cock.” You said, nudging him again. Jungkook peeled his head from between your legs and looked at you, and you nearly moaned at finally seeing his face. He looked insanely hot with his hair around his sweaty hearline pulled by that head band, but the sheen gloss all over his mouth to his chin made you feel just a little shy. 

“Really?” Jungkook asked again, eyes wide, like he was a kid about to receive his gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.

You only hummed, bringing your body in a sitting position. Jungkook grabbed your waist, about to kiss you, but you pushed him on the bed and slid your leg over his thighs, leaning down to make quick work of pulling his boxers down that had a little wet patch on the front and a huge boner that was just begging to be freed. 

Jungkook sighed when you get a hold of his length, not wasting time to tease because as much as you wanted to, you were impatient to taste him and make him cum. 

“F-fuck,” Jungkook curses as you pumped his cock, your thumb pressing on his leaking tip. “You’re so pretty, baby."

His groan is elongated as you finally put him in your mouth. You make yourself comfortable by kneeling inside his spread legs, leaning down closer to his crotch and twisting your head to the side so that you could gather your hair in one side. It was always hard to reach deep, but you make do of your hand, twisting your fingers around the remaining length that your mouth could not take. 

It didn’t take too long for Jungkook to shake and start speaking sweet nonsense in the wake of his impending orgasm, probably because he had been holding back since he ate you out. But you worked as hard, sucking on his tip, brushing your fingers over his balls here and there, pumping his wet cock in your hand, ignoring the tears that’s forming in the corners of your eyes. 

“Baby, I’m cumming,” he warned, holding the back of your head to try and get you off but you insisted and let him release in your mouth. 

Jungkook hissed, and you leaned back to jerk his cock for any more cum, swallowing the one in your mouth that you felt had gotten to some parts of your face so you try to lick over your mouth, tasting cum there. He was still cumming, though, just a little, it spurting on your chest and chin. 

You giggled as Jungkook groaned. When you were sure you milked him dry, you let yourself flop on his naked body, draping yourself over it even though he was kind of sweaty and sticky… but you don’t really mind. You were just gonna shower later. 

“You’re a minx.” He said, chuckling, his arm going around your waist and the other resting over one bare ass cheek. 

“I live to make you suffer.” you replied, rubbing your cheek against his chest then pressing kisses to it. 

“You’re winning." 

That made you laugh. 

After a while, you remove your head on his chest and look down on him. He arches a brow, waiting. And then you dropped your mouth to the mole under his bottom lip. You giggled because Jungkook wasn’t expecting it, shown by the confusion on his face. Before he could say anything, you lock your lips with his, sighing when he reciprocated your kiss right away. 

The kiss takes a U-turn as Jungkook flipped you over so he was the one hovering over you now, hands roaming around your body sending tingles all over your spine to your toes and heat between your legs as he squeezed your breasts. 

He squished the both of them in his huge palms, and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh when he did so, so as the gush of wetness coming from your pussy as he finally dropped his mouth to suck on your pebbled nipples. 

”___, are you—oh my god I’m so sorry!“

Jungkook and you quickly looked over your door, catching Nayeon just as she scrambled to close it. 

"Shit.” You hissed.

Jungkook looked at you. And then you both get off of each other, him going for the sweats he’d folded on a swivel chair in your room, and you putting on your robe and messily tying your hair in a bun with a hair tie. 

“I’m just gonna go outside and talk to her…” you trail off, watching as Jungkook puts his pants on. 

“Okay,” he went over to you, holding your face and leaning down to kiss you. “Sorry." 

You licked your lips as he broke the kiss, couldn’t help but smile.

"It’s fine." 

When you went out, Nayeon is at the kitchen drinking water. When she saw you, you gave her an awkward smile. 

She frowned. "I’m really so, so sorry, ___. I swear I didn’t know you had someone over. I just got back from the overnight study group I texted you about last night and it’s 8 am so I thought I could wake you up for class." 

You find yourself smiling genuinely at her explanation. You wave her off and went over to grab a drink of water as well. 

"It’s fine. Our prof actually emailed us last night that our 8 am class was gonna be cancelled today so technically my first class is gonna be at 10. But I’m also supposed to be getting ready, so…" 

Nayeon hummed and drank more of her water.

You were just waiting for it. You knew she was so gonna ask you about it. You were kind of nervous but you found that you actually didn’t care that much to tell her all about Jungkook. 

So when she finally did ask, you only looked sheepish. 

"So, Jeon Jungkook, huh?" 

You nod.

"I should’ve known!” Nayeon exclaimed. “You were suddenly interested about basketball and– no, I’m not gonna lie. I did not expect that." 

You bit your lip as you hid half of your face behind the rim of the glass. "Yeah…" 

Nayeon suddenly narrowed her eyes at you, and you hold yourself to prepare for what’s next. 

"He was your sneaky link all this time?" 

Your eyes widened. "No!” But then you quickly remembered that, technically, he was. But… “but not really. I mean, not anymore?" 

You weren’t sure, though. Your relationship with Jungkook for the past month had undergone a shift. You were purely fuck buddies before, and now you fuck and see each other for more than that. You sleep over almost twice a week at his place, have movie nights. He let you know about this game Animal Crossing and you’ve been obsessed since so sometimes you really just go over his place to play it. (Your island was seriously becoming pretty.) Also, you started grabbing lunch regularly these days in his car and go on what you can call dates if both your schedule aligned and it’s not that you were actively keeping other people from knowing about this sudden change in your relationship, including Nayeon, it was just — your time together was really just spent for pure enjoyment with each other. It was just like: if people saw, then they do. 

Despite that, a label still wasn’t put to it. 

You don't mind.

"Oh, so–your boyfriend?!” Nayeon’s tone is laced with surprise, and you flinched at hearing the word boyfriend but you shrugged it off. 

“Uhm, it’s very new.” Was what you replied. It was the only thing you could offer, honestly. 

Your friend looked at you for a few seconds and then nods, as if understanding – what? you have no idea – and then turned to the direction to your room. 

You see Jungkook popping out from your door when you looked over. 

“Hi, Nayeon." 

When he emerged, he’s fully dressed and it was a bummer that he’d taken out his head band. Whatever, you’d make him wear it later. It was really cute when he wore it. 

"Ohh, here comes the sexy man." 

The casualty of it threw you off a bit but then you suddenly feel grateful to Nayeon for not making a big deal about the whole thing.

So you laughed and joked, "Don’t say that! You’re going to stroke his ego." 

Nayeon’s right eyebrow raised. "Oh, his ego is definitely getting stroked, alright." 

Even Jungkook burst out laughing at the crude implications of her words, and you found the whole thing atrocious. Nayeon only shook her head, but she was smiling. 

"Sorry for interrupting your time together, lovebirds. I brought something for breakfast but I don’t think it’ll be enough for two people.” She said, pointing towards a take-out bag on the kitchen counter. 

“It’s fine, thanks Nayeon." 

She waved you off. "I’ll just be in my room. Eat first before you do cardio, guys." 

You huff out a laugh at her words again, and so did Jungkook. He walked towards you as Nayeon disappeared in her room, and you smiled at him as he did so. 

Jungkook held your waist and pressed you a little to the refrigerator, but you have no complaints in the way he leaned down to share a slow and soft kiss with you. 

"Breakfast?” He whispered, kissing your cheek. And then your nose. 

You giggled, circling your arms around his neck. He hummed at the contact, like he’s always so content and peaceful whenever you touch him.

“I think I’ll just get coffee on my way to Uni.” you told him. 

That made him frown, though. “That’s really not…” you arched your brow as you wait for him to finish his words. He sighed. “Okay. But at least eat some toast? I’ll make it for you." 

You nod. "Okay. I’m gonna go shower first, though. I stink." 

As if prompted, Jungkook quickly buried his face to the crook of your neck and whiffed out your scent, dramatically smelling you and then peeling his face away, saying, "Nope, still smell like flowers to me. But I agree, we need a shower." 

"We?" 

He gives you a serious look. "Yes. Water conservation is one of my goals this year." 

You jab on his chest lightly. So stupid. But so handsome and cute that you can’t help but pull him close to you and kiss him again. 

Suddenly, Jungkook grabbed your thighs and make you hold on to him as he carried you across the living room. You stopped your own squeal before you could scare Nayeon with it. Jungkook laughed at that and you slap his chest in retaliation.

He went straight to the bathroom and put you on the counter with all the intentions to keep making out with you by the way he was swirling his tongue deliciously against yours, hands squeezing your sides. 

But you really had to shower. 

He whined when you put your hands on his shoulders and broke free from his kiss, pushing him away a little. 

"Don’t be a baby. Let’s shower,” you said, giving him a stern look. He looked petulant for a while, but then suddenly smirked. You narrowed your eyes, pretty sure he had dirty things in his head right now. “No funny business. You literally have class in an hour." 

"I could make you cum in less than that." 

"Jungkook!" 

He laughed, kissing you. "I’m kidding.”

“Behave. Nayeon is here." 

He only nodded and began taking his clothes off. You also removed your robe from your body, going over to the towel rack to hang it there. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and shamelessly ogled your naked form and you rolled your eyes, not waiting for him as you stepped in the shower first. He followed right after, smiling at you as he offered to wash your body. 

Jungkook assured you he had no funny business in mind, but you didn’t really mind when his hands suddenly got grabby, when he told you that his hands could lather your body wash more effectively than your loofah just so he could massage your boobs in his soapy palms, staying a little too long over there. But you didn’t complain when his finger ghosted over your pussy, and you absolutely weren’t mad when he kissed you hotly as the shower ran and water soaked the soap suds out of your body. 

In fact, you enjoyed it a lot when he pressed you against the wall while his strong arms held you tight as he fucked you open, gasping in your mouth, grunting about how pretty you were and how much you were such a good girl for him. 

He spoke more nonsense in your ear when he turned you around, an arm tight around your breasts, his other hand gripping your waist as he slid his engorged cock in and out of you from behind while you tried to minimize the sound of your cries until you both came. 

You know Jungkook knew his goal to conserve water was doomed from the very start, especially when you ended up taking a second shower because you felt sticky and just unclean. 

But it felt great to come out of the bathroom and have Jungkook dressed the same time as you with the clothes he left in your closet from the other times he’s spent over here. 

"I’ll see you later.” He pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. 

“Okay,” he smiled and you failed to resist the urge to kiss him again for the last time. “I’m coming over to play Animal Crossing." 

"You only like me for my Nintendo…” Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you and you laughed. 

“It took you a long time to figure out?”

Jungkook pouts. “As long as you curl up in my lap while you play it, I can accept that.”

“You’re cute, baby. But you’re late to class, go scram.” You shooed him and he chuckled. 

“Okay, kiss me again?” You did. Jungkook smiled and kissed you but on the forehead this time. “Bye, pretty." 

You leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched him slowly disappear from your pathway with (certainly) a fond look on your face. 

Blurring the lines with your fuck buddy might be cliche, and confronting it might have been hard, but you did it. And he was just as willing and honest with you about his feelings.

And it was worth it.

all right reserved © awrkive, 2023. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[liveyun]

EYES LIKE STARS | 1

banner by the amazing @itaeewon 🌧️

summary. “He was everything you were not. He was perfect—too perfect. Always kind, always excelling, always loved by everyone, even your own parents, like a reminder of everything you weren’t. And you hated this. You hated him. You hated the way he always included you, the way he tried to help, as if you ever needed his pity. He was always there, almost like a shadow you could never escape.

Returning to the town that holds both your earliest memories and silent secrets, you’re forced to confront not only the unsolved knots you’d left behind all those years ago, but the boy who was always at the center of your pain. Whose eyes have always seen right through you : Jungkook.”

title. Eyes like Stars

pairing. Jeon Jungkook x afab reader/oc

status. ongoing

rating. M (18+)

genre. e2f2e2L (you get it), angst, drama, romance, boy next door sorta situation, emotional baggage, slow burn, eventual smut

wc. 9.5k +

warnings. (for this chapter) coarse language, OC being in denial and this is just the beginning LOL , parental negligence / toxic parenting , flashbacks, slight mention injuries (knee scraping) and crying , panic attack :( , oc is kinda.. eh, SOMEONE is introduced 😵‍💫, this is it for the first part, lmk if i missed any other warnings, “english isnt my first language” so can contain grammatical errors, not proof read + the last part omfg

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Some doors, no matter how tightly shut, always find a way to open.

The sun was up after the drizzle, which bathed the town in a subtle golden haze, the kind that made everything feel a little too warm, a little too nostalgic. You walked slowly, almost as if your feet were dragging against the weight of the years you’d left behind. A part of you did not really want to be here, but a greater part of you knew you cannot continue to run away from everything like you always have.

Such a coward.

Your home stood at the end of a narrow lane, tucked away like a secret that had been kept for far too long, to the point you felt like it maybe didn’t exist anymore. The house looked the same, yet different, almost as if it had aged in your absence - funny, because although it looked pretty worn out, nothing really felt off. Or did it? The paint was chipped, the garden overgrown, the lawn and grass both destroyed.

But it was still the place you’d once called home—a place that had witnessed more arguments than apologies, more silence than understanding. You pause, staring at the old, browned door as if it’s a portal to another world— always has been— to a world where you were always second best, always compared, always found wanting, longing, no— yearning for the bare minimum. Your own once called home which always felt like a far distant place for you.

It still does.

The windows stare back at you, blank and lifeless, just like the eyes that used to watch you so closely, judging every move, every breath. You don’t want to go inside, but you know you have to. You cannot keep on running away anymore. You are tired, but you dont exactly know if doing something which has your gut churning with disdain can be exactly considered as rest or relaxation.

You notice that the shabby WELCOME door mat which was once a home for mites is no longer at the front door anymore.

As you drew closer, your eyes involuntarily flickered to the house next door. The garden was well-tended, prettiest of the flowers scattered in the greenery in full bloom, just like how you’d remembered.

As always.

The house stood as if nothing had changed there— as if time had preserved that house and all its memories in a neat little bubble. Always so full of life, always so welcoming. You bite down the bitterness which floats up your chest at the thought. Push down the small voice in the back of your head which insists that you will never be welcomed the way a static house makes you feel.

A part of you, the part you’d tried to bury, kick away— wondered if he still lived there. If his parents still looked out from the same windows, waiting for their golden boy to come home.

Who cares.

You quickly turned your gaze away, focusing on the worn steps leading up to her own front door. Your hand trembles as you reach for the doorknob, the cold metal biting into your skin. You’d previously informed your mum through a text message that you will be visiting them, which you didn’t bother or have the energy to check if she’d actually seen.

Your hand on the knob stills, and you purse your lips in thought. You’d decided it’d be a bit courteous to knock instead of just barging in — perhaps some basic decency to spare — although if it was your own home — as if it ever was. You raise your fists to knock— and the door creaked open before you could really.

There she stood.

The same face that had greeted you with tired smiles and even more tired expectations, back in the days when her face was devoid of wrinkles, and full of youthful beauty. The same person who’d cradled you on her bosom and cherished you; the same person who at least tried to make an effort to mend some broken ties, although when she was very well aware it was way too late.

“You’re back,” your mother said, her voice heavy with something that wasn’t quite disappointment but wasn’t quite relief either. She sounded tired— and your mind partially thought if it was because of you. You really felt overwhelmed by emotions, you really did.

You felt the back of your eyes burn with tears — that familiar feeling which you’d remembered was a staple one when you used to live here back in your teenage days. You wanted to engulf her in a hug and just cry, hoping that you could just, for once, forget about whatever had ever happened, and truly be a child once again.

“I’m back,” you reply, deciding to push aside any fleeting emotions which dared to threaten you. You stepped inside as soon as your mom moved aside and let the familiar scent of home—of old furniture — of broken communication — of forgotten dreams —wash over you.

— — —

Inside, the house was just as you’d remembered it. The wallpaper was still peeling in the corners, the furniture still arranged the way it had been since you were a child. It smelled like old wood, dust, the old sandalwood diffuser — and something bitter that lingered in the air, like the remnants of a fight that never really ended.

The walls seem closer than you remember, the space smaller, suffocating. Everything is the same, yet different, distorted by the journey of time and the weight of all that’s been left unsaid. Was any of the furniture ever even moved ever since you’d left? You’re in doubt.

However, the air was thick with unspoken tension, a tension that had always existed— but was now more prominent, more suffocating. You could feel the weight of your mother’s gaze on you, as if she were waiting for her to say something, anything, to break the silence that had settled between them like thick snow.

Although it’s been so long, surprisingly, you didnt really have anything to break the ice with.

Or even if you did, you didn’t want to.

You move through the house on autopilot, your feet carrying you to the living room where you remember the echoes of your parents’ voices being the loudest. You felt disgruntled — upset, at how memories of your parents fighting are the only prominent thing you can remember vividly inside this house. You wanted to laugh ; you can almost see them standing there, locked in yet another battle of wills, their words sharp and cutting, slicing through the air like knives, and you— you ?

Perhaps standing in some corner with your favorite old teddy bear, covering your ears the best you could, trembling with sobs, wondering if this would ever stop. Their words, though, are like a very vague memory to you. Almost as if someone is tingling a metal glass in the back of your head, far away, and the echoes which reach you are the only thing audible.

They were always fighting, always tearing each other apart, and you were always caught in the crossfire, collateral damage in a war that wasn’t even yours to fight.

But it was you who paid the price, every single time.

You hear footsteps, and your throat goes dry. The realization that you recognize the footsteps is beyond disturbing to you, as the fact that you even know who the owner of the footsteps is.

From recognising footsteps to vehicle horns, you grew up, and this would never not be able to turn on a switch in the back of your head. You knew the footsteps, their urgency, or even their tone, may you be called crazy. And you perhaps are delusional to think that maybe these steps are rather relaxed and slow. . .

perks of growing in a strict family, you guess.

Your father emerged from the kitchen, his steps slow and deliberate. His eyes, now very much lacking of the light they used to radiate, widen ever so slightly, but then again, come back to their usual resting form. Almost as if he tried to mask his. . . disappointment?

You weren’t sure, and his expression wasn’t one of happiness, either.

He looked older, more worn, but his eyes held the same disapproval you had seen so many times before. The kind of disapproval that was never voiced but was always felt.

A kind of disapproval you felt in your veins even before you were faced to force it, almost as if it was imprinted deep in your veins, that no matter what you’d do, you’re going to get this stamp of resentment passed onto you.

“Long time,” he muttered, his eyes flicking over yours as if assessing the damage of the years. The silence which has stretched all over these years. You were surprised that he even decided to speak up, remembering the time when you departed.. wasn’t exactly as serene as a teary goodbye sounded like, but that was a memory you refused to unlock.

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

You grimace at how dry you sounded, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe because it’s partially the fact that you didn't know what to answer, or maybe because..

Well.

You stood there, the three of you, now, in the cramped living room that had never felt like a home to you. You wonder if it did to them too, or was it just the forced idea of it being a home to rest their heads in made them used to the idea that it was a home. Misunderstandings which haunt you, as their child, you sure are to know that they must haunt them too.

You were someone who tried fixing them, who never once tried to do that themselves, right in the place where it all began, pretending it was home, when all it ever felt like was a place they were too tired to leave.

The silence in the room felt heavy, oppressive, broken only by the faint ticking of the old clock on the wall which seemed to drag time over and over.

It once again felt like their eyes pierced your very own soul, trying to burn you with their gaze.

“I’ll get dinner started,” your mother echoed, turning away before anyone could respond. It was easier, you supposed, to keep busy than to confront the reality of your return.

Or her expectations. Who knows.

You nodded, more to yourself than to anyone else, and followed your mother into the kitchen. You weren’t surprised that your father opted to go outside — a habit you’d recall which was so frequent back in the olden days when everything was a frenzied mess. Either he used to be out puffing out nicotine, or simply. . . didn’t return home until he felt like it.

— — —

The kitchen was smaller than you’d remembered, or maybe you’d just grown up. The shelves were no longer as tall as Burj Khalifa to you, and neither were the long random cabinets— who were the same dull brown, the countertops cluttered with the same appliances that had seen better days.

Your breath stuttered at how even the products you’d seen were the same, not a single new thing filled there— from the good ol’ crunchy cereal cornflakes (which was barely even consumed for breakfast,) or the chilli crisp you’d loved to drizzle on top of nearly any dish you’d had.

Truly, nothing really had changed.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” your mother’s voice reached out to you as you nearly flinched, not having expected her to begin a conversation. She was diligent in her chore; her question was like a soft command which demanded an answer, not looking up from where she was peeling potatoes, with that same old lilac handled peeler.

“Yeah,” you repeat, this time truly not knowing what else to say. To say you felt like a dumbass was an understatement; because truly, after so long, you seem to have lost the spark to even think to answer.

However , you didn’t want to explain yourself, didn’t want to justify why you’d stayed away for so long. You didn’t owe them that. You didn’t owe them anything.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. It felt better that way.

The silence returned, heavy and uncomfortable. You found yourself staring out the small kitchen window, your gaze drifting to the house next door. You could see the top of the garden wall, the vibrant green of the plants that lined it.

It was strange how one small thing could hold so many memories, how one small thing could make you feel so much. Much more than being inside of your own house ever did, or ever could.

Yet, something about it feels different now, like a memory you’ve revisited too many times, its edges blurred with the weight of all you’ve carried inside you for decades.

You can almost see him there, in the yard, surrounded by laughter that wasn’t just his—it was a magnet, he was like a magnet, pulling everyone into its orbit, everyone except you. You were always on the outside looking in, (and it’s nearly ironic how you are now too,) your heart a silent witness to the joy you could never touch, never reach.

Even when he reached out, trying to pull you into that magnetic circle of warmth, you resisted. Your pride was too wounded, your envy was too sharp. How could you join in when every smile of his was a reminder of everything you could never be?

.....

Fuck.

You quickly look away, focusing on the mundane task of setting the table, very well knowing that your mom is gonna do that again. But the curiosity lingered, like a small fucking bug, a small, nagging feeling that you couldn’t quite shake out of you.

You did not want to think about him. You did not come here all the way to remember someone who has always just,. . . you sigh, gritting your teeth. Here were you again, fretting and sweating. Your mind whirred, not wanting to remember the way his smile had once made you feel both seen and invisible at the same time.

— — —

You decide you could take a walk around to fuck around and.. uh, find out, maybe? (You weren’t sure what exactly, though.)

As you maneuver through the hallway, your gaze drifts to the old family photos hanging on the wall. They seem. . out of place, like relics from a time that never really existed, or more like pieces on . . a museum? A museum where no one cared for its content , and everything was just randomly added to make something out of nothing.

You were always smiling in those pictures, but it was a smile that never reached your eyes—a smile that hid the exhaustion inside you. And there, in the corner of every photo, was him.

Even in those memories, those old photos, he was perfect. The golden boy with the bright eyes and the easy smile. His eyes were so bright and full of a happiness that seemed to come so naturally, would crinkle at the corners when he smiled—an easy, effortless smile that lit up his entire face.

His hair, always a little tousled from running around, caught the sunlight in a way that made it glow, adding to the image of him as the golden boy. You remember the way his front teeth, slightly larger and giving him that bunny-like appearance, would peek out when he grinned, adding a touch of innocence to his already charming features. He’s grinning widely in this picture, his nose crinkled up and his fingers poised in a victory sign, aligned to his face, right above his eyes, a smile so infectious that you feel your lips stretch to a smile even before you know it.

Your heart drops to your ass.

You’re smiling.

You can still hear their voices,though. Dripping with disappointment every time they said his name, their expectations pressing down on you like a weight you could never lift. You were expected to be someone’s walking copy— perfect and what not. You were the one who couldn’t measure up, the one who always fell short, who always came last in the race.

You take a deep breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling shards of glass, each breath painful, deep and cutting. The silence in the house is deafening, only the distant noise of your mother chopping up vegetables with that same dull thud against the chop board audible.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that the absence of your parents’ voices is more suffocating than their arguments ever were. You had always wished for the fighting to stop, but now that it has, you find yourself wishing for the noise, the chaos—anything to drown out the silence that presses in on you from all sides.

Maybe you had finally gone insane.

You had run away from it all. From the piercing noises, comparison, disdain, disappointment, everything. You were so young back then, with no knowledge of the outside world or its secrets.

You’d try to settle in different parts of the world, failing miserably each time because that feeling of something missing in your soul— that deep longing and yearning for anything that wasn’t as quick as getting a quick whiff of dopamine.. never quite left following you.

And now, here you are, back where it all began, and nothing has changed. Except, perhaps, you. You’re not the same girl who left this place. You’ve seen too much, been through too much. The world has carved its mark on you, left you scarred and weary, and you’re not sure if there’s anything left of the girl you used to be.

But as you stand there, looking out at the endless pictures which hang on the old plastered walls where the past that still haunts you, you realize something.

You’re not just angry anymore.

You’re tired.

Tired of carrying this weight, this burden of resentment and hurt. Tired of blaming all the misunderstandings that were woven into the delicate fabric of your mind as you grew up, to someone who perhaps wasn't even slightly related to your pain.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t really him you despised, but the circumstances that had pushed you to see him as the source of your pain, which had settled like dust in the chambers of your heart. The misunderstandings that had tangled themselves into the delicate fabric of your mind as you grew up, weaving him into the narrative of your suffering, were unfair to you both.

It felt easier to blame him than to confront the truth—that your pain had roots far deeper than just one boy with a bright smile and kind heart.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let go.

The thought surprises you, shakes you to your core. Where the fuck did that come from?

The thought not only surprises you, but mostly, scares you. You take a cautious step back. It comes with a dozen questions which you fear that you don’t know the answers to, or are way too confused to even think about them.

You’ve held onto this anger for so long, let it define you, shape you. Who will you be without it? Can you really let go of something that has been a part of you for so long?

Did it really take you this long to realise this, all that, too in the place where you desperately ran away from?

You don’t have the answers, not yet. But standing here, in this place where it all began, you think that maybe you’re ready to start looking for them.

And that scares you more than anything else.

You find yourself staring at a sketchbook, after dinner, which was all just . . . once again, all silence. You remember how you realised that the food tasted bland, despite having a home cooked meal after nearly a decade. You tried adding salt till it was way too salty, and you had to gulp down each morsel because it became too bitter for your taste. The suffocating silence was broken when the bubbling hot stew burnt your tongue, as you yelped in pain. The only relief you got was gulping down a whole bottle of iced water from the fridge.

Your tongue feels numb now. Great.

Your eyes roam over the sketchbook again, its once pristine pages now yellowed with age. It was a relic from your childhood, buried deep in the attic with dust for years until your return home unearthed it. As you trace the lines of the drawing on the first page, you remember the day you made it—a simple scene of a house on a hill, surrounded by trees and bathed in the warm glow of a sunset, and those huge “V” shaped birds marked randomly near the sun.

You remember that you were so proud of that drawing, each line and color carefully chosen by your younger self, an attempt to capture a world that felt safe and beautiful.

An imaginary place where you’d even thought of making stick figures to show you and your parents, a world where they lived happily, but the vague pencil traces underneath the pastel scribbling show that you’d decided it was better without it.

But the memory of showing it to your parents is what lingers most. You remember how your excitement had bubbled over as you presented the drawing to your parents, your young heart brimming with pride. You’d spent hours on that piece, the house on the hill, the yellow-ish hues of the sunset, the trees swaying gently in the imaginary breeze. You thought it was the best thing you’d ever created.

But when you placed the sketchbook in front of them, eager for their approval, their reactions were far from what you had hoped.

Your mother’s eyes had flickered over the page, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t say anything at first, just handed the sketchbook over to your father, who barely glanced at it before returning to his newspaper. It was your mother who finally broke the silence, her voice flat and dismissive. “It’s… fine,” she’d said, and that single word was like a bucket of cold water on your excitement, your hard work.

You remember vividly, how your heart sank, how the colours of your drawing seemed to dull right before your eyes. How hours of scribbling felt like it’d all been to waste. The pride you’d felt moments before quickly evaporated, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You were too young to understand why her words stung so much, but old enough to know they did.

But then your mother’s tone shifted, a hint of something sharper creeping into her voice. Her eyes, dark and clear, were on you. “You know,” she’d continued, “Jungkook showed us a drawing he did just last week. It was a landscape too, but he added so much detail. The way he captured the mountains and the way the light reflected on the water… It was really impressive. His technique is really improving.”

Your father chimed in, not even looking up. “Yes, he’s always had a good eye for these things, hah. Natural talent, I suppose.”

You’d just stood there in the corner, your limbs feeling way too weak and shaky to hold you up.

You’d tried to keep your expression neutral, tried to swallow the hollow pain in your chest, but it was no use. The resentment boiled inside you, twisting something in your chest until all you could feel was the unfairness of it all. You had wanted to create something beautiful, to show them what you were capable of, that you could do better, but instead, your drawing had become just another reminder of how you didn’t measure up.

The sting of their words burned hot behind your eyes, and before you knew it, tears were blurring your vision. You didn’t want to cry in front of them, didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they had hurt you. So you bolted from the yard, the sound of their conversation fading behind you as you ran, feeling even hurt that none of your parents bothered to ask about where you were going.

But your vision was too clouded by tears, and as you reached the stairs, you’d feel your foot catch on the edge of a step. You stumbled forward, eyes widening, your arms flailing as you tried to catch yourself, but it was too late. You’d fallen, hard, the impact of your knee against the hardwood sending a sharp jolt of pain through your leg.

You remember the way your mother had smiled when she talked about Jungkook’s drawing, a soft, admiring smile that she rarely directed at you. It wasn’t just the critique of your work that hurt—it was the realization that, in their eyes, Jungkook would always outshine you. No matter how hard you tried, how much effort you put in, he was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong, while you were just… there.

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, partly from the pain, but mostly from the overwhelming sense of rejection and inadequacy. You sat there on the stairs, your knee scraped and bleeding, the ache in your chest even worse than the one on your knee. The drawing that had once filled you with pride now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how you would always fall short, no matter how hard you tried.

You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, angry at yourself for crying, angry at them for making you feel this way, and angry at Jungkook for being the perfect son they never had. The resentment grew deeper, and with it, so did the belief that you were never going to be good enough for them, no matter what you did.

— — —

The moon is full overhead when you finally change into some comfortable PJs and finally feel sleep knock on the back of your eyelids and exhaustion making its way to move gradually along your body. Today wasn’t exactly eventful, but rather a concoction of memories which tickled and stung you like a thousand bees over and over.

You’ve decided to keep the windows open, . . .for tonight, atleast, because you do not dare sleep without feeling suffocated here. It sounds silly, but having nice ventilation feels. . . fresh, or more so.

You were around fourteen, you think, as you remember sitting on the edge of the playground, kicking at the dirt with the toes of your worn sneakers. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the field, and you could hear the other kids shouting and playing, their voices mingling with the distant hum of traffic.

You weren’t interested in joining them. Your eyes were fixed on a figure in the distance, one you knew all too well.

Jungkook.

He was standing by the swings, laughing with a group of boys who seemed to hang on his every word. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he pushed it back, and his smile—God, that smile—was so bright, so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at. You hated that smile. You hated how perfect he seemed, how effortless everything was for him. And you hated how, no matter what you did, you could never seem to escape his shadow. No wonder the girls were so hung up on him, even the class president— it was ridiculous.

That day had started like any other, with your parents reminding you how you should be more like Jungkook. They praised his grades, his athletic abilities, and his charm. Either a direct implication of “Why can’t you be more like him?” or something like “You know, Jungkook— blah blah blah, all that bullshit about how he was better than you in every aspect. Even if it was the topic of increasing acne on your face, not realising—or maybe not caring—how their words cut you down. You knew they meant well, or maybe not, but each comparison felt like a knife to your heart, a reminder that you would never be good enough.

That you’ll never be him.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt a presence beside you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey,” Jungkook said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “Why are you sitting here alone?” His voice was always so soft. So gentle.

You hated his voice. Why did he sound so. . . sweet ? so smooth, almost with a slight undertone of a rasp. Why did it make you want to surrender and break down into the frustration which was pent up inside you since ages?

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest heavy. You wanted to tell him to go away, to leave you alone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Because as much as you resented him, wanted him away from you, you somehow wanted him near you, a feeling which was hugely perplexing to you. It was a twisted, painful contradiction that you didn’t fully understand, nor you’d ever wanted to.

Jungkook sat down beside you, right on the dusty ground, his knee brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt, a feeling of fleeting emotions through you, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you kept your eyes fixed on the ground, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Of course he’s gonna be concerned.

And that was the thing about Jungkook—he was always so kind, so considerate, even when you didn’t want him to be. It only made you feel worse. It only made you feel like utter shit, like you were not meant for anything, not even basic human compassion.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your emotions in check. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t seem convinced. He shifted closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. He smelled like baby powder mixed with sweat. Irritating. “You know you can talk to me, right? If something’s bothering you.”

You almost laughed at the irony. How could you talk to him when he was the source of so much of your pain? When everyday you had to just, suffer because of him? How could you tell him that every time you looked at him, you felt like you were drowning in your own inadequacy? That every time he succeeded, it felt like another reminder of your failures? While he was always praised, always encouraged, while you were left to wonder why your efforts never seemed to measure up?

But instead of saying any of that, you just nodded, giving him the answer he wanted. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you as weak, as vulnerable. You couldn’t let him know how deeply he had affected you.

There was a long silence between you, the kind that felt like it was stretching out forever. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the tension in your chest building with every passing second. And then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jungkook spoke again.

“You know, you’re really talented,” he said, his voice slightly higher than usual, a habit you hate to have noticed when he gets excited about something. “I just saw your abstract sketches the other day. Holy shit dude, they’re amazing!”

You didn’t know if your heart hammering in your chest sounded more or the silence after his praise did. He, however, didn’t stop there.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to twist the knife deeper. Because at that moment, you realised that he didn’t understand. He couldn’t. To him, everything came so easily—success, praise, admiration. But for you, it was a constant struggle, a battle you fought every day just to keep your head above water.

You turned to look at him then, really look at him, not caring if your eyes are brimming with unshed tears or if your nose is runny with snot and tears.

And for the first time, you saw the boy behind the perfect image. There was a softness in his eyes, a sincerity that made your heart ache. And for a fleeting moment, you wanted to believe him, to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were more than the sum of your insecurities.

But then reality came crashing back, and the bitterness you had tried so hard to suppress bubbled to the surface.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice flat, on the verge of cracking, devoid of the warmth you knew he was expecting. “But I don’t need your pity.”

Jungkook blinked, his doe eyes widening, taken aback by your sudden harshness. “It’s not—”

“Just leave me alone,” you’d hissed, standing up abruptly. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you turned and walked away, your heart pounding in your chest, your blood rushing onto your face. You could feel his eyes on your back, but you didn’t dare look back. Because if you did, you knew you would see the hurt in his expression, and you couldn’t handle that. Not when you were already so close to breaking.

And so you ran. Ran so fast, so hard, that you felt your chest constrict and gulp for air— the static breeze feeling like wind on your face as you ran, ran, ran. Ran till your limbs gave away and your head hurt, till you feel your insides eat you up with a strange mix of emotions—anger, regret, sadness.

But most of all, you felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, even if you felt like you did the right thing. Because in pushing Jungkook away, you had also pushed away the one person who might have understood, who might have been able to help you. . . only if you hadn’t pushed him away.

But it was too late now. The damage was done, and you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

But as you stare at the sketchbook now, under the glowing moonlight, running your fingers over the faded lines of the drawing, the sketches you’d made again — you see it with different eyes—eyes that can appreciate the innocence in those lines, the earnestness of a child who only wanted to create something beautiful. The proportions might not be perfect, almost nothing in those sketches were — but there’s a charm in their simplicity, a warmth in the colors that you hadn’t noticed before. They were all good drawings, you think, not because of their technical skill, but because they were a reflection of who you were back then—hopeful, imaginative, and full of dreams.

And maybe, just maybe, you had been a little too hard on yourself all those years ago.

You hadn’t even planned to be here.

The moment your father casually mentioned that the Jeons still lived next door, you felt that familiar, uncomfortable pressure building in your chest. You didn’t absolutely know why that information passed on, especially when after a heavy restless night of feeling like crap, your muscles aching from exhaustion , your brain unable to process every thought which you’d thought, you were finally up to join your parents for an early evening tea.

His voice was cheerful, like he had no idea the gravity of what he was suggesting, but you felt it immediately. Every time the conversation veered toward your neighbors, it dredged up feelings you weren’t ready to confront. The Jeons—his parents—meant one thing, and ultimately, one thing only: Jungkook.

The mention of their name was enough to send your mind into overdrive, painting images of polite conversation and awkward laughter, images that twisted into something far more unbearable—seeing him. You could already hear the follow-up conversation in your mother’s saccharine sweet voice, “Why don’t you come over and say hello? Catch up with the Jeons?” And worst of all, they’d ask about you. You felt despondent to even think of the conversation, if it ever took place.

You weren’t used to the warmth which Mr. and Mrs. Jeon had shown you throughout the years, which only made you doubt if they ever knew the thick wall of ash between their son and you. They were so copacetically well humored, it almost hurt to be in a conversation with them.

Almost as if you never were used to this form of decency, that it shocked you to your core.

Jungkook’s parents would definitely ask, and you'd be expected to stand there and smile like you hadn't left everything behind. You know they definitely wouldn’t mean anything hurtful, but you do not believe your mind.

Not yet, atleast.

Before your parents could suggest anything more, before they could casually lead you down that path of small talk and forced interactions, you’d mumbled a vague excuse. Something about needing to stretch your legs, or needing some air.

You really did, though.

You’d slipped out the front door like you were running away, and you shook away the bitterness forming in your throat. You weren’t sure where you were going, only that it had to be away from that conversation, away from the chance of seeing him.

As your feet carried you through the familiar streets, your mind raced faster than your heart. The narrow, winding streets were the same, the faded signs on shop windows were the same, but the memories that clung to the air—they were suffocating.

You’d always thought coming back would be simple. Walk down memory lane, see familiar faces, and pretend you were someone new. But the weight of those memories hung over you, each one sharper than the last. With every corner you turned, you felt the tug of your past, a pull you couldn’t quite shake away, no matter how hard you’d tried to shrug it off.

— — —

You found yourself slipping into a small café you hadn’t noticed before, just off the main road, desperate for a reprieve.

What’s the name— 134340? Quite strange, you think, but shrug it off once again. People are creative with their business requirements, even if that means that you probably make out nothing from eyeing the café from outside. except the fact that. . . it’s possibly space themed?

Now that is strange for a coffee shop.

You think that it’s quite new. Or, who even knows. It stands out from the dull shops lit nearby, and there’s quite a buzz which attracts you here, although you’d prefer a quiet café over a bustling one any day.

Well, fuck it.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries greeted you as you stepped inside, the hum of quiet conversation and the soft clink of mugs providing a much-needed escape. It’s surprisingly cozy, something you’d never guessed from the odd name and the theme previously. The café is small, actually smaller than most you’ve been to. Though, it’s nice, there are fewer people here, and you quite find yourself at peace already. You chose a table near the back, away from the windows, trying to create some distance from the life outside.

You hadn’t planned to stay long, but the peaceful atmosphere lulled you into a false sense of security. You let out a long breath, allowing the tension to ease from your shoulders as you sipped your coffee. Ha, thisfelt nice. For a few blissful moments, you felt like you could breathe again. Almost like. . . maybe you could handle this return to your hometown after all.

And then, the door chimes.

You barely looked up at first—just another customer, maybe a loner like you, someone else in this quiet café. But then the barista’s voice cut through the room, clear and distinct.

“Macchiato for Jungkook!”

Huh?

Your hand froze halfway to your cup. The familiar sound of his name hit you like a punch to the gut, making your breath hitch.

No fucking way.

Your gaze shot up, almost instinctively, and that’s when you saw him. There, standing by the counter, picking up his drink like it was the most casual thing in the world. Him.

Your heart seemed to lurch into your throat. It couldn’t be him—it couldn’t. And yet, there he was, right in front of you, a few inches away.

The room seemed to shrink around you, your pulse quickening as your eyes locked onto him. You felt yourself gasping for air, your peace long broken. Your body felt suddenly too warm, your chest tightening painfully as every nerve in your body screamed for you to look away.

But you just couldn’t.

He had changed.

The boy you left behind had grown into someone you barely recognized. His back was visible to you— his frame was broader, more solid than you remembered, and his shoulders— God, what the fuck? they seemed to stretch forever beneath the dark jacket he wore. His hair, slightly tousled, deep raven — as you’d remembered— framed his face in that familiar, careless way, but it was sharper now. Defined. There was no mistaking the confidence in the way he carried himself, something he hadn't fully grown into back then.

But what stood out most—what nearly knocked the breath from your lungs—were those— were those. . . tattoos peeking underneath his jacket?

Jungkook's arm, the one that used to be bare, now carried intricate black ink that snaked from his wrist to his elbow, disappearing under the sleeve of his jacket. The lines were bold, winding and curling, and you felt your jaw drop, even if he was standing at a distance. The tattoos seemed to catch the light as he reached for his drink, each motion of his arm drawing your attention like a magnet.

You couldn’t stop staring. The boy you remembered—the one who had always been so kind, so open—had become someone else entirely.

One who stood in stark contrast to the memories you had clung to.

And he was alone.

Jungkook had always been surrounded by people. He was known to be the crowd attractor, always having his admirers petting him by his neck. He was never the type to go anywhere without friends trailing behind him, their laughter filling the spaces around him. But here, now, in this café—he was by himself. There was a stillness about him that you didn’t remember, something quiet and self-assured.

Now, it almost felt like he didn’t need anyone around him to validate his presence. He was comfortable in his own skin, by himself.

That realisation hit you harder than you expected. He had changed in ways you hadn’t anticipated, ways that made your chest tighten with emotions you couldn’t even begin to name.

And then, just as you thought your heart might explode from your chest, Jungkook turned slightly, his eyes sweeping across the café—casually, as if he were taking in his surroundings—and your stomach dropped.

Fuck, fuck. The coffee was so strong, you feel it lurching up your stomach now.

You flinched, ducking your head quickly, heart pounding so loud you thought he might hear it across the room. Did he see you? Could he have recognized you after all these years? Your breath was shallow, uneven, panic rising in your throat as you wrestled with the urge to bolt from your seat.

You weren’t ready for this.

You weren’t ready to face him. Not here, not now. Not when you were still so caught up in your own thoughts, still trying to piece together the fragments of what your brain showed you. You’d come here for a cup of coffee— some peace— and seeing him again, after all this time, felt too much, and too little at once. It was like a bomb, or a bucket of ice cold water thrown directly at you.

It was overwhelming.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for your bag, your movements jerky and uncoordinated. Your heart was racing, and every instinct in your body was telling you to run. But you hesitated, torn between the undeniable urge to leave and the part of you that wanted to look at him just once more. Just to see if he had really changed as much as you thought. Just to see if he, unlike this town, your home, had changed.

But you knew better. You couldn’t stay. Not with your emotions so close to the surface, threatening to spill over. If he saw you, if he recognized you—if he spoke to you— you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Because you know you can’t.

The café, once so peaceful, now felt stifling, the walls closing in on you as your breath quickened. You couldn’t breathe. You needed to get out of here, needed to escape before everything came crashing down.

With one final glance at his figure, standing there by the counter, you pushed your chair back, the screeching sound drawing more attention than you would have liked. But you didn’t care. You grabbed your things and bolted for the door, your pulse pounding in your ears, your steps quick and uneven.

You’d nearly made it. The door was just a few steps away, and all you had to do was keep your head down and walk.

Your heart was still hammering in your chest, the anxiety twisting your insides as you tried to steady your breathing. Jungkook hadn’t seen you—or at least you hoped he hadn’t. You prayed to heavens and hells that he hadn’t. But just as you reached for the door, you saw him lean against the counter, much closer now. Far closer than you had anticipated.

Fuck. Fuck!

The café’s single door was right beside where he stood, and there was no way out without passing directly by him.

Oh no.

You shouldn’t have chosen this café. Was there no other cafés for you to try? Did HE necessarily have to be in the same café as you?

Your stomach churned, your pulse thudding in your ears, drowning out everything else. He was right there. Right there. And you could feel the heat radiating off him even from where you stood. Panic crawled up your spine, making your movements sluggish and jerky. You just needed to keep your head down and walk—walk past him without glancing his way, without catching his eye. But he was so close, and as you stepped forward, trying to make yourself as small as possible, you caught it—his scent.

That familiar scent, one that had changed just as much as he had. He no longer smelled like baby powder. It was manly now, deeper, some sort of an expensive cologne, which was strong on its own— yet soft, almost comforting in a way that made your chest constrict painfully. The scent wrapped around you, making your knees feel weak, and for a second, you nearly lost your footing. You fought the instinct to look at him—to take one glance and confirm that yes, this is the Jungkook you left behind, the one who had grown into a man. But you couldn’t. If you looked at him, you’d be done.

You were beyond cooked.

Your legs carried you forward, faster than they should have, your mind racing with every step. You felt your arm brush something—him, the edge of his jacket maybe, or his hand on the counter—and your pulse spiked violently.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

You shoved the door open, your breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as you stumbled outside, the cool air hitting your face like a hard slap back to reality.

You were outside. You’d made it. But the world around you was spinning, the street and the sky blurring together as your heart continued to pound in your chest. You leaned against the wall just outside the café, your hand pressed to your chest, trying to catch your breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside you.

Your palms felt uncomfortably clammy and you felt a sweat head run down your temple. Your thoughts were a mess—disjointed. Everything was hitting you at once; you had run away again. You had seen him, been close enough to touch him, and you had run. Just like before.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the ache in your chest spreading as you tried to pull yourself together. It was stupid. So stupid. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid ! You were an adult now, one with full responsibilities for your actions, and yet here you were, fleeing like a scared child.

You took a deep breath, forcing the air into your lungs. Maybe you could handle this. Yeah, you needed to clear your head. It’s just the coffee messing with you. Maybe you could—

“Excuse me?”

Your entire body froze at the voice directed at you.

That voice.

Deep. Smooth. Rich. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, catching you off guard, wrapping itself around you like a tether, pulling you back toward the very thing you were trying to escape.

It wasn’t the voice you remembered—but it also very much was— heavier, weighted with a kind of maturity that made your breath catch. The boy you once knew had never sounded like this. This voice was deeper, more assured, like it had weathered years of life since you last heard it. The softness which his voice held in your memory still was back somewhere, but you couldn’t find it. And that hit you hard. He wasn’t that same boy anymore. The boy who used to tease you, who laughed with that bright, carefree chuckle—he was gone.

And now, that very voice was speaking to you.

You slowly turned to face him, your heart thudding violently in your chest as your eyes locked onto his face.

Yeah, this was your end.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jungkook.

He was right there, just a few feet away. And this close, you could see everything.

The sharpness of his jawline hit you first, carved out and more defined than you ever remembered. It was strong, angular, like someone had taken the softness he once had and sculpted it into something more. . . commanding. His lips, parted slightly as he waited for you to respond, were full and soft, but even they held a sense of control, like every movement was deliberate. Fuck, was that a piercing at the corner ? His nose—perfectly straight, leading up to those eyes.

Those eyes.

Dark, deep, and searching. They hadn’t changed much in shape, but the way they looked at you was different now—more intense, more aware. His gaze wasn’t filled with youthful curiosity or mischief anymore. It was deeper. Grounded. Like he saw more, understood more.

He was a man now.

Your stomach twisted violently, and you had to force yourself to breathe.

Your gaze traveled up, noting the way his thick brows framed his face, darker and more defined than you remembered. They furrowed slightly as he watched you, as if trying to figure out why you were staring, why you hadn’t taken the phone from his hand yet. The small furrow in his brows only made his expression more serious, more focused. He was looking at you—not just glancing, but looking.

His dark, inky black hair brushed just above his brows, a few strands falling forward in that effortless, tousled way. It was longer now, framing his face, giving him an edge that made your chest tighten.

But it wasn’t just his face. Your eyes flickered down for just a second, barely able to handle it. His neck—strong and sinewy, leading to broad shoulders that seemed even broader now in the fitted jacket he wore. He’d filled out—a lot. His arms were no longer just lean muscle from teenage years of sports. Now, they were thicker, more muscular, straining against the fabric of his sleeve. Oh my God.

Your mind raced, every detail crashing into you at once, overwhelming your senses. Your chest felt tight, and you felt like your hands were shaking by your sides.

The more you looked, the more you realized how much had changed. How much you had missed. How much you had run away from?

It felt like the world was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the flood of memories, the weight of time lost, the realization that Jungkook had grown into someone you barely recognized—yet you knew it was still him.

He was still him.

You were losing yourself in it, in all of it, your thoughts spiraling out of control, unable to process the fact that he was standing here, holding something that belonged to you, waiting for you to take it from him.

Your eyes flickered back to his face, your heart clenching painfully. He was watching you, studying you in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness. And yet, as much as he was looking at you, he didn’t know you. Didn’t recognize you. Not yet, anyway.

That hit you harder than you could’ve expected. How could he not know who you were? How could he not see it in your face, in the way you were trembling, in the panic written all over you?

But then again, why would he?

You were no longer the same girl he once knew.

And as his eyes narrowed in mild confusion, his brow furrowing just a little deeper, it became clear—he didn’t see you as the person who had disappeared from his life. Not yet.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice sending a tremor down your spine. You couldn’t miss the concern in his tone, the slight edge of worry that made your throat tighten even more.

Fuck. Of course he’d be concerned.

You blinked, the world rushing back into focus, feeling like your pupils zoomed like crazy— and suddenly, you realized you had been standing there for far too long, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Standing there like a damn weirdo.

Your phone. He is holding your phone.

For a split second, your eyes met his, and time seemed to freeze.

His gaze locked onto yours, and for the briefest of moments, something flickered there—something like recognition. You feel your eyes widening, bells ringing at the back of your head. His eyes softened, just slightly, as if he was searching your face for something familiar, something from the past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that same polite curiosity.

For a moment, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Your eyes flickered between his face and the phone in his hand, your chest tightening with each passing second. What should you do? He was right there, right in front of you. He was close enough for yoh to reach out and take back what was yours.

But you couldn’t.

Your hand now actually trembled at your side, your body frozen in place. The air felt too thick for you to gulp in, and your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“I—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, trying to make your body move. But you couldn’t.

You just couldn’t.

He tilted his head slightly, concern flickering across his face as he waited for you to take the phone. Why is he so concerned!? But you just stood there, rooted to the spot, like your feet had been glued to the ground. You felt the panic rising inside you again, the walls closing in as your chest tightened painfully, slowly.

“I—” you tried again, but your throat was too tight, and the word came out as nothing more than a strangled sound, like a muffled voice.

He took a step closer, and that was it. That was it.

Your body went into overdrive. Without thinking, without even trying to reason with yourself, you turned on your heel and bolted down the street, not caring if people stopped to look at you, thinking if you possibly were either a lunatic or someone who just won a lottery.

You didn’t care. You ran, ran, feeling your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you ran. Your legs felt shaky beneath you, your pulse pounding in your ears as you darted around the corner, as far away from him as possible.

You couldn’t do this.

Your heart was hammering so violently you thought it might burst right out of your chest, and all you could think about was getting away. Far, far away.

You ran till you feel your chest burn, you ran till you felt like your limbs would give up. You ran till you feel like nothing again, you ran till your mind was empty.

When you finally slowed, your breath came in harsh, ragged bursts, and your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were there. You collapsed onto a bench, your whole body trembling violently as the weight of everything crashed down on you.

You had run away.

Again.

And this time, you didn’t even have an excuse.

a/n : phew.. 😵‍💫 if you’ve made this far, thank you for reading 💜 what do we think? i’d be very glad if you let me know your thoughts 🫶🏾 if you want, there’s an anonymous feedback box where you can drop your thoughts anonymously 💌

[paddymoonstruck]

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

[callmelittlesunshinefics]

Hello, Little Girl (Part One)

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader

Summary: You have been living at Xavier's school for a few years now, feeling slightly out of place as a Nephilim from another universe but welcome nonetheless. When something pops up that has no business being in this universe you're sent gearing up for a mission that you would rather leave the X-Men out of, but an anxious endless and overprotective step-uncle-devil insist on this being worked as a team.

A/N: The title is an Into the Woods reference for no good reason other than that I couldn't help myself. We're also loosely using X2 Logan purely because of the kitchen scene, but in reality it's an AU.

Some quick background, the reader (Y/N in fic, described with she/her pronouns) is based off of an OC I tend to pull out pretty frequently. Half human, half angel, displaced from their home universe and dropped into this one, with characters from Lucifer (show/comics) and The Sandman (show/comics) making appearances despite not existing in the Marvel Universe. *shrug* TW: Alcohol use, swearing, mature/explicit themes down the line in subsequent chapters so MDNI

Feedback/questions/comments HUGELY appreciated as it took me a long ass time to say f it and post this <3

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 3,437

It was late when you arrived, but that was part of your plan. You didn’t want too much of a fuss and had plenty of groceries to put away, everyone made a big fuss out of missing your cooking when you announced your departure, so you were sure to come back with all the essentials you knew you’d be asked to make in the coming days. It was late to start cooking, even by your standards, but the silence in the house was so deep that you were certain starting some baked goods wouldn’t be the cause of any commotion. You got to work with plenty of butter, flour, sugar, and eggs on hand. All of the basics you would need to make as many things as possible. 

You got started on big batches of basics; chocolate chip cookies, brownies, dough for cinnamon rolls to serve tomorrow morning. You had several bowls in various stages of prep when you fell silent, realizing you were no longer alone. 

“If I had known you were here I swear I wouldn’t have started,” you turned, explaining yourself to the only person it could be, “You’re the only one who could’ve heard any of this from three floors away.” 

Logan shook his head in the negative and unlocked the fridge that stored alcohol for the adults of the mansion, grabbing two beers. He held one out to you that you accepted, and he took a large sip of his before explaining. 

“I was up as soon as you landed in the kitchen,” he referenced your unique method of travel, shrugging, “You might be flying too fast to see, but I heard you.” 

You smirked, “Yet you waited until the cookie dough was just about ready…” 

He shrugged, “Figured you’d be so happy to see your favorite in the house you’d be more likely to sneak me some extra.” 

“Were you even asleep?” You cut through the bullshit, and Logan chuckled, “And so confident you’re my favorite?” You teased, “What if it’s Scott?” 

He actually growled and wasn’t ashamed of it, “Don’t say things just to wound me, darlin’.” 

You chuckled to yourself but relented, sharing the cookie dough with the wolverine with an extra spoon you pulled from the drawer as soon as you realized who was snooping. You took a long sip of the beer and hummed, relenting without much of a fight. 

“How many are still here?” He knew what you meant without clarification. 

“Not many, but they’re all older so no one complains about these,” He gestured to the beers between the two of you, “But all of this will be gone by tomorrow.” He meant all of your baked goods and you shrugged. 

“That’s what they’re for, Old Man.” He glared at you, shoveling more cookie dough out of the bowl.

“How long are we going to do this little dance?” He asked looking you dead in the eye. It took a lot to throw you off balance, but Logan was better at doing it than most. 

“Is it your hip? Need a seat, grandpa?” They were coming out half-hearted even to you, and he leveled you with a look to tell you as much as he continued to wait, “Alright look, I’ll admit those weren’t my best, but if you don’t want to keep up the dance how about you just ask me whatever it is you want to know?” 

Logan looked genuinely surprised and you snorted, getting back to work you started to roll out dough that had finished resting for the cinnamon rolls. Logan sat down to watch, sipping his beer and enjoying your company while he worked out how to ask you everything he was thinking without scaring you off. 

He sighed, “When you left you said you couldn’t tell us much, and I understand needing to leave the past in the past better than most.” 

You waited for him to continue as you spread the filling across the dough. There were long silences sometimes between the two of you, but they never felt awkward. Logan didn’t have the gift of gab, but you weren’t in any rush. You learned early on that it was best to give him his time, but you also realized equally early that sometimes Logan sitting down and trying to talk about his feelings was like trying to recite a poem he’s never heard in a language he doesn’t speak.

“If I’m being totally honest, and I will be since it seems like that’s what you’re getting at, I don’t really know if I fixed anything or if I just…” You trailed off and Logan nodded, scooping up more cookie dough. This was the point you realized Logan really wasn’t leaving without more answers from you, any other day and that cookie dough would be a fond memory by now. 

“If they’re sending you for intel it must be pretty bad, huh?”

You finally got a genuine laugh out of him, “No one sent me, bub. The reason I waited for this to be ready first,” he gestured to his snack, “Is because I could smell the stress on you miles away. Whatever sent you runnin off hasn’t let you alone since, matter of time before you accept the fact you need help.” 

You squinted, “Can you actually smell stress or is that an exaggeration?” It may have sounded like a joke but you were genuinely curious and he knew, deciding to humor you. 

“More complicated than I made it sound, but bottom line is yes, bub. Is it my turn to ask a question?” He threw you a signature smirk as you both nursed your drinks, cinnamon rolls temporarily abandoned. You took a deep breath. 

“You’re no stranger to the fact that there are other worlds out there, some like the ones I came from, some much closer than that within this universe.” Logan sobered up quickly, sitting up straighter. He thought it would take more prodding, he didn’t expect you to casually toss him into the deep end. “Does the name Morepheus mean anything to you?” 

Logan shook his head in the negative and you nodded, but he interrupted before you could continue, “Do you want me to wake the professor?” 

You smiled sadly, “I’m going to tell him everything too. But is it alright if I just tell you first, we’ll consider it a first draft. I really have no clue how I’m going to explain this to-” 

“I’m gonna get us some proper drinks, don’t get too ahead of yourself kiddo.” You rolled your eyes and took the break as an opportunity to finish spreading the filling and roll up the cinnamon rolls to rest ahead of slicing and baking. 

Opening up to Logan first thing upon your arrival wasn’t on your bingo card for how your return was going to go, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. Your friendship with Logan was an easy one, but you couldn’t pretend it didn’t get strained in your absence. He knew you weren’t a mutant and that some part of you felt you didn’t belong at the school, didn’t deserve it, but he would be the first to remind you that didn’t matter. Of course, you weren’t fully human either, so what that made you to the team was always a question mark in your own mind. 

Logan returned and began covering your many bowls before you had a chance to tell him what went where, “I take it you’re forcing me into a break?” 

“And some sleep if I’m lucky.” He meant it as a joke but regretted it as soon as he saw your face fall, “But for now moving us into the study with the whiskey.” 

You got the kitchen mostly in a state of order before heading down the hallway to meet Logan by the fire, plate of brownies in hand. If you weren’t painfully aware of the bad news you were about to deliver, it might even feel romantic, huddled near the fire with chocolate and alcohol. You kicked your shoes off and collapsed onto the small couch beside Logan, enough space between the two of you to feel intimate without being crowded. You closed your eyes and leaned backwards into the plush cushions of the couch, taking a deep breath as you tried to pinpoint the start. 

“Now hon the first thing you need to understand is that nothing sent me off running. It may have seemed abrupt to everyone here, except the professor that is, but I was gone the second my head hit the pillow that night. I shut my eyes here and opened them in another world.” You took a deep breath as Logan stared back at you looking like he wasn’t entirely certain if you had completely lost it or were telling him something of dire importance. Once the shock wore off and he remembered who he was speaking to, a nephilim from another universe, he decided if you told him you were pulled into another world, he had no reason to doubt it as fact.

“Do you know where you were?” 

You nodded and pointed to your empty glasses, “It’s not like you to be stingey with the liquor, ever plan on helping a girl out?” 

He rolled his eyes but eagerly poured you both what looked to be maker’s mark. Not your favorite but for the conversation ahead anything would do. You weren’t a lightweight, but you couldn’t be called a drinker either, so you surprised yourself and Logan when you downed the double shot he poured before refilling your own glass and topping off his. You expected a snarky joke or more disapproval of your behavior, but instead the Wolverine just continued to watch you as if he were studying for a test he wasn’t entirely prepared for. 

You didn’t need his heightened senses to see that your behavior was putting him on edge, and you quietly admired this as one of his most underrated abilities. He might not know what you were about to tell him, but his instincts knew before you said the words that you were gearing up for a fight. 

“Have you ever heard of the Endless?” You asked Logan and he slowly shook his head no, “I didn’t think so, at this point most people think of them as myths. Stories that got lost to time and all that. But my Uncle Lu had a few run ins with the family, not all of them good, but you know how he could be…” You wandered off for a bit and Logan felt a chill, as much as he would try to deny it. You mentioned him so casually, your “Uncle Lu”, Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself. 

“Dream of the Endless dropped in at Lux to see if Lucifer was behind a hex bag found in the dreaming.” You pulled a leather pouch from your pocket and Logan felt all the hair on his arms stand at edge, “It’s unusual here though, this type of magic. Even some of the most powerful magic users in this world haven’t seen anything like it, but to be fair it’s some creative work.” You pulled the drawstrings slightly to open it just enough for Logan to see inside. 

“Bones? And..” He squinted at the bag and you nodded as he finished, “Sand.” 

“It belongs to Dream. Also known as the Sandman, never seen without a raven,” you gestured to the bones in the palm of your hand, “and his sand. They contain fragments of his power, even in this state.” You stared at the item in your hand that weighed on you more heavily than the literal weight of its contents. You felt yourself veering towards tipsy but reached for your glass anyway. 

“The irony of who I’m saying this to isn’t lost on me, but you seem pretty quiet, even for you.” You threw a playful elbow nudge in Logan’s direction and completely missed, he caught your shoulder before you could fall over him onto the couch. His hand stayed on your arm as he shook his head as if to clear his head. 

“Have you seen anything like it?” Logan asked cautiously. If he was being completely honest the direction of this conversation was unsettling him for reasons he couldn’t place, it was a new feeling entirely. 

“That’s the million dollar question,” You smiled sadly, “I’m gonna need a favor, Lo.” You stood up and began  throwing all your strength into sliding the small couch you and Logan had just occupied out of the way, lifting the edge of the rug it had been resting on. You gestured to a particular floorboard, “Can you lift that one?” 

You expected another question or any hesitation really, but Logan stood and did as you asked. You reached into the opening as soon as the board was cleared and pulled out a small bag that looked nearly identical to the one you had shown Logan. 

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is goin’.” Logan huffed as you returned the floorboard and started to climb back into your seat. 

“Everyone told me the kind of things in the world I came from didn’t exist here, but even when I was with Lucifer and then came here, I couldn’t just…let my guard down?” It sounded like you were asking him a question but you just kept going, “I had been on the run for years, Logan, and everyone was telling me I was safe here, but-” 

“You were stuck in survival mode.” He said it as matter of fact, and you closed your eyes and nodded, “So you hid these here for…protection?” Logan was giving you a break, filling in the gaps he came to understand from what you were telling him and what he already knew about you. 

“Some are for protection,” You nodded, “Some of them actually act as little safeguards too so that if someone or something comes waltzing in here that shouldn’t be, it can bind them to the spot.” 

Logan chuckled, the way you delighted in your clever tricks not lost on him, “Can’t say we couldn’t have used a few of those before you got here,” 

“To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if they would work here. Still not totally sure, can only tell you that this one,” you pointed to the one fallen open with sand and bones, “Managed to work in the dreaming without Morpheus detecting anything.” 

You didn’t need to tell Logan you were scared, your heart rate was erratic enough for him to start to wonder if he should change the subject, shit on Scott for a while or something else guaranteed to get a chuckle out of you. This time a few years ago he might’ve done that, when you were both still new and he didn’t know how quickly you would become pivotal to his life, to everything he knew about who he was, not that he ever said as much. When it came to you Logan wasn’t prepared to take the easy outs, he needed you to tell him everything.  

“How does it work?” It was a careful question asked quietly, vague enough to keep you talking, but not specific enough to spook you. 

“It was basically hijacking some of Dream’s power. Whoever made this used it to create a little pocket dimension for themself deep in the dreaming, the only reason Morpheus found out at all was an increasing number of dreams and nightmares stumbling upon it only to be transported back to Morpheus’s castle with no memory of their hours before.” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you startled a bit when Logan snorted. 

“This guy has a castle?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You know, some would call this a castle, Logan.” You getured to the mansion you were seated in, tucked away in the cozy study that screamed wealth, intentional or not, “But yes, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares. No one has that many names and doesn’t have a castle.” 

Logan caught the mocking tone and was grateful to hear it, “So are you telling me you ditched us to go hang out in a castle, Princess?” 

He smirked at you and your heart stuttered for a different reason entirely. Logan being insanely, ridiculously attractive was by no means new to you, but huddled next to the fireplace and calling you ‘Princess’, even jokingly….well, you took a deep breath and tried to laugh off just how flustered his comment made you. 

He knew, of course he knew. Any other night Logan may have finally taken the plunge, grabbed you by the chin to look him in the eye and ask if the two of you were ready to stop dancing around your feelings. But then again he had been telling himself that for months already, and the night of your return showing up being chased by ghosts from your past was probably not the best night to add more to your plate. 

“Something like that. I actually haven’t gone to the dreaming yet, Lu didn’t think…well, he thought-”

Logan stiffened and his mind started racing a thousand miles a minute while screaming at himself that he’s a fucking idiot, that he should have caught on to what this all meant sooner. 

“He thinks they’re coming for you?” It was growled through his teeth, but he needed to ask it. 

“He thinks…” you chose your next words carefully, not wanting to put Logan any more on edge than he already was, “That we don’t know enough yet to rule it out, and me prancing right into the dreaming, even with him and Morpheus-” 

“You need backup.” Logan finished for you as you nodded. 

“As much as I don’t want to involve any of you in this, I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice. Logan, I,” you struggled with this next part, trying to figure out how to explain it. 

“Just say it, kid, don’t worry about how it sounds on my account.” 

“Logan, the best case scenario would actually be that they’re coming for me.” You whispered as Logan began to snarl, you continued talking faster, “The alternative is that someone with a lot of knowledge they shouldn’t have is trying to destabilize the dreaming. If that’s what’s happening, I’m not the only person in danger. Human and mutant alike, we’re all tied to the dreaming. If the dreaming dies…” 

“Alright kid, look,” Logan sat up in his chair and took your hands, that you hadn’t realized you were wringing anxiously, in his, “I’ve lived a long time, alright? Until I met you I didn’t know about all of this celestial bullshit, hell I still don’t understand half of what you’ve told me tonight.” You chuckled, acknowledging it was quite a lot to handle in general let alone around 3 am, “But you know what, bub? I’ve been in more wars than I’d care to count, we’ve been in battles with imperial space birds, and I’ve had to time travel enough that Chuck sometimes has to fill me in on what’s changed when my consciousness returns to the present.”

You looked at him quizzically, not having been aware of that last one and he shrugged, “You can be nosey about it later, my point is everyone under this roof has stopped the end of the world a few times by now, don’t go losing sleep before we even know what we’re up against. Give us some credit.” He winked at you and squeezed your hands before returning them to your lap and finishing his drink. 

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and smiled sweetly at him, a little too sweetly in fact, “That was quite the pep talk Lo, gotta be careful, some might say you’re starting to sound like Scott.” 

You expected a glare, maybe even an actual growl as you compared Logan to the ever present thorn in his side but instead he shrugged, “You tell anyone I said this and I’ll deny it, but one thing Summers and I agree on is tackling the big bads as a team. From this universe or whoever the hell else is stupid enough to come knocking.”

There were a few beats of silence as what Logan said soaked in, and even though your instincts were still screaming at you to run, when Logan told you you would face it and beat it as a team, god help you, you believed him.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 2

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2564

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma, Alcohol.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

I’ll just make an appearance and sneak out the back if I have to.

A half-hour later, you’d finally convinced yourself to get out of your car and head toward the door. The parking lot was packed now that it was just after seven—most of the vehicles you recognized. Living in a small town and being a mechanic, that sort of thing tended to happen. Thanks to Bobby, you had worked on most of them, even if the owners had no clue.

The moment you opened the bar door, the sound of the jukebox and the patrons was almost deafening. The smell of alcohol was strong and inviting. The room mirrored the parking lot, full. People were playing pool, dancing to the music, leaning against the walls, and chatting while the bar and tables were full. 

It was the group near the back that caught your attention. Several tables had been pushed together so they could sit near each other. You recognized most of them from around town, the garage, and the bar. That was when Ash found you, before you’d made it halfway to the group.

“So, when do I get that date? I brought whiskey,” he asked, smirking as he held up a full bottle of your favorite whiskey.

“Ash, I don’t date, you know that. Plus, you’re like a brother to me, but thanks for the whiskey,” you chuckled, grabbing it quickly out of his hand.

“You here for that?” he asked, using his thumb, motioning to the group near the back.

“Yeah. Got invited by John and sort of felt obligated to show up at least. I figured I could sneak out the back later on,” you replied, glancing from the group back to Ash.

“None of em’ are bad people, Y/N. You need more friends,” Ash told you, giving you that sweet smile that only he could when he was worried about you.

You sighed and took a drink of whiskey, wincing a little at the burn it left behind, “They’ll find out about me, and they’ll be like everyone else. I’m not getting my hopes up again, Ash. I just… can’t.”

He gave you one of his famous hugs with his arms over your shoulders, “Just, you don’t got to be such a loner,” he told you, kissed the top of your head, and then headed to the back again.

Damnit Ash. You’ll see. They’ll hate me just like everyone else does.

The idea that believing anyone outside the small group, that was your family or extended family, could remotely even like you as a friend was foreign. It had been why you worked the shifts you had chosen to work, to avoid those people.

You put on that fake smile again as you walked over toward the group, reminding yourself you just had to make an appearance, have a couple drinks, then slip out the back when no one was looking.

“There she is,” Ellen smiled, standing to hug you, as did Bobby, Jodi, and Donna. “I said I’d show up,” you chuckled after they all hugged you.

There was a bit of shuffling of seats, but they made one for you between Ellen and Bobby, but across from Dean. You managed to keep that fake smile on, no matter how uncomfortable you felt sitting there with all those people, mostly the ones you tended to avoid, though.

“Bobby told me about your promotion. Congrats,” Ellen told you with a smile that went from ear to ear.

Of course, he told her. 

“Still not sure how I feel about it, though. I just want to work on cars more than anything,” you replied, a bit shyly, keeping your attention more on Ellen.

You set the bottle of whiskey on the table and missed Dean raising an eyebrow as you did. “You’ll do fine, Sweetie,” Ellen told you, brushing a few strands behind your ear in her mom-like way she did.

Before you could say another word, though, John stood, getting everyone’s attention. When you turned to look at him, your gaze stopped on Dean, whose green eyes were locked on you. You just blinked at him blankly, not really sure why he’d be staring at someone like you. 

John gave a speech about Sam getting a full ride and his SAT scores. Everyone cheered, then toasted. You grabbed your whiskey bottle instead of the beer that was there for you. Dean watched you, but you still couldn’t figure out why. He was handsome, sure, but he had a soulmate and would one day find her. So, you paid him no mind other than the fact that he was your boss’s son. 

There was a lot of chatter and conversation going on at the tables between the more than ten people who were there. You kept up with it, though, and even piped in when someone asked you something, even if it was rare. They were catching up on things since they’d been away. You made sure not to drink too much, only having four shots of the whiskey and staying clear of the Amber Bock that had been sitting in front of you.

Then, almost an hour later, you excused yourself to the bathroom, giving everyone that fake smile before heading in that direction. Halfway across the bar, though, you glanced over your shoulder. Seeing that no one was watching you, or so you thought, you ducked into the back, where Ash was cooking. He just looked over at you, nodded, and returned to cooking as you slipped out the back door.

You leaned against the wall for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief at the aloneness of being outside and away from it all. It was far more overwhelming than you had anticipated. There was a mild chill in the air, but it felt nice, cooling not only your lungs, but also your body.

After a few moments of calming down, you headed around to where you had parked, looking more at the ground as you fiddled with your keyring, unclipping it from your belt loop. You practically screamed, though, when you saw him leaning against your driver’s side door.

“Sneaking out?” Dean asked you with a smirk.

You frowned, then sighed through your nose, “I can only people for so long, okay? It’s just too crowded in there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. I didn’t want to deal with it.” It almost surprised you how easy it was to be honest with him, even though you didn’t even know him. Typically, you’d have devised an excuse, like being tired and needing sleep for work the following day.

He raised an eyebrow, “Then, why’d you say you’d come?” he asked curiously.

You looked down at the ground, nudging a rock with the toe of your shoe, “I kinda felt obligated,” you mumbled, “John being my boss an all.”

When he laughed, you weren’t sure if it pissed you off or hurt you, but you didn’t look up at him, even when he did start talking. “If you really didn’t want to come, you could have just said that. My dad’s pretty understanding. He and Bobby talk a lot. Bobby was surprised you even agreed.”

At first, you weren’t quite sure what to say, but finally looked up at him, feeling guilty for not being honest with John, or Bobby. “I’m not used to people caring what I want or don’t want, and I don’t know John at all. I’ll apologize when I see him again.” 

“What do you mean, people not caring what you want or not?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow in slight annoyance or aggravation; you weren’t quite sure.

“I guess you don’t know then. I figured Benny would have said something. I never got my soulmate’s name, when I turned sixteen. I’m sort of treated like the plague around here, except for a few people who are pretty much family,” you replied, then sighed, still trying to figure out why it was so easy to be so honest with this stranger.”How come your soulmate isn’t with you?” you asked, somewhat curiously.

“Let’s just say, it’s complicated,” he answered, shifting slightly, leaning against your car. “My brother was telling me about that, your soulmate thing. He said it was fairly rare, but you aren’t the only one. The authorities don’t want the general public to know, so they keep all the information on lockdown.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage, and you looked back down at the ground, debating what you wanted to ask him for a few moments. “How come you’re talking to me, though? People will treat you badly, if you’re seen with me too much.”

That’s when the bar's door opened, causing both of you to look over at the commotion. You had to stifle your laughter, watching Benny, Ash, and Cas haul some drunk out and then toss him into the parking lot. Ellen was then standing directly in front of him.

“And if I ever catch you in my bar again, I’ll have Jodi arrest your disrespectful ass. No one talks about my niece like that and gets away with it, especially in my bar,” Ellen threatened the man.

“She’s protective of you, huh?” Dean asked from behind you.

“Yeah. She raised me since I was two. Jo and I grew up together. They’re the only blood family I have left,” you answered quietly.

Dean decided to change the topic, and attempt to answer your question from before the commotion. “Well, the reason I’m talking to you is, well, uh, kinda funny,” he began, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You turned around, looking up at him and tilting your head a bit, curiously and confused. It didn’t seem to help his nerves, now that your attention was on him, and he averted his eyes. 

“It would seem that while we were both growing up, we didn’t ever run into each other. I worked in Bobby’s garage in the mornings with the guys and hung out here in the evenings. You were just the opposite. Then there was school. I saw you around, but you always seemed to disappear quickly,” he replied, quite nervously, which you couldn’t really understand.

That at least explains the earlier conversation in the garage. But what does he not want me to find out about? I shouldn’t ask; that would be rude.

“How come you seem so nervous around me?” you asked, then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just, people avoid me. I just don’t understand why you aren’t avoiding me, too.”

You sighed, then went and leaned on the driver’s side door of your car since he had moved, thanks to the commotion earlier. You were trying to sift back through your childhood memories to see if you could remember meeting the Winchesters.

Dean was again silent for a moment, watching you, which you did notice this time, even if you weren’t looking directly at him. “You were like a mystery back then. And, uh, you still kinda are. That’s the answer to both your questions,” he answered, softer than you had thought he would be.

You shrugged, though, “I’m pretty normal, except for the no soulmate name thing.”

When he chuckled, you looked up at him, narrowing your eyes in a partial glare, “Sweetheart, you are far from normal. Not every day a hot chick is a badass mechanic and has a badass car to boot.”

For the first time in a long time, you blushed. He was the first guy to call you ‘hot’ and badass, ever. Ash had called you hot, but you just shrugged him off, figuring he was just being, well, Ash. Dean, though, was a complete stranger, who had a soulmate. 

You bit your bottom lip nervously, debating asking yet another personal question. “If you have a soulmate, why would you say those things about me?”

He sighed and leaned on your car next to you, but he kept some space between the two of you as he looked down at the ground. You debated retracting your question when he finally spoke up, “I’m not supposed to talk about it, since the courts got involved. If you can keep it quiet, I don’t mind telling you,” he explained quietly.

“I won’t tell anyone. No one talks to me anyway,” you answered, now looking over at him, utterly curious.

“I do have a soulmate. I’m not with her, though. A woman, she had my name on her, but I didn’t feel that connection with her, and her name wasn’t the one on me. It ended up being just a regular tattoo, but it was done professionally. It’s a legal battle now and part of what my brother and Dad have been trying to help me with. It’s also why I came back here,” he explained, and he looked sad to you.

“I promise I’ll keep it to myself. I’m sorry someone put you through something like that, and I hope you can find your true soulmate one day,” you offered softly.

Your mind was working overtime with what he’d told you. Why would anyone do something like that? To what point and purpose? What would faking a soulmate mark accomplish? Why Dean Winchester? Too many questions and no answers, none that you could seek anyway.

“Thanks, Y/N, I appreciate that. I’m sure I’ll find her, one day,” he said with that soft smile again.

There was almost a far-off, dreamy sort of look in his eyes, but you weren’t going to ask him what his thoughts were on. “So, umm… I was gonna head home for the night, but…” you trailed off, unsure how to ask him to move so you could at least get in your car without sounding rude.

“Oh, right,” he replied, pushing himself away from your car. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at work then. Don’t be too tough on me. It’s been a little while since I’ve worked in the garage.”

“Yeah, thanks. I won’t. I’m really not like everyone says I am,” you replied, this time, giving him a friendly, soft smile before unlocking your door.

“I knew that the moment I met you, Sweetheart,” he smirked, closing your car door after you slipped inside.

All you could do was smile and shake your head slightly in amusement at his response. “See you tomorrow, Dean,” you told him before starting your car and heading home, your mind racing.

Something’s clearly going on with the Winchesters. Benny knows something. I’m gonna guess that the other three guys know it as well, since none of them seemed surprised by Benny’s statement at the garage. Plus, they didn’t push for what it was.

Then there’s whatever is going on with John and Bobby. Aunt Ellen has to be involved. Which would mean that Jodi knows, too, whatever it is. And what did Bobby even mean about Dean not trying anything with me? Dean said he had a soulmate, so why would he even bring that kind of thing up?Then there was that joking sort of undertone, like he hadn’t really meant it. John had it too, regarding Dean. What the hell is going on, and why do I feel like I’m the only one that has no clue?

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

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[starogeorgina]

Twin flames

Warning: Swearing, age gap, asshole Aemond

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen oc

1.02

You watched as your uncle took in the appearance of your bedchamber, his lilac eyes scanning the room your mother deemed unworthy of a princess. Furniture was plain; curtains were faded; and books filled with stories of tragic lovers were scattered everywhere. He was most likely underwhelmed; most people were. Aegon often compared your bedchamber to the servants. Aemond had no such remark since he had never entered your bedchambers since childhood.

“If I knew in advance, uncle, you’d be helping me sneak back into the keep, I would have tried to spruce the room up slightly for you,” you say jokingly.

Daemon's facial expression remains hard to read until something catches his attention. Frowning, he walks towards the table in the center of the room and picks up the different pieces of fabric. “What happened to your dresses?”

You’re taken aback by the tone of his voice; unlike your mother or grandsire, there wasn’t a hint of judgment or disapproval; Daemon sounded genuinely concerned about why so many outfits had large tares in them. His eyes had a fierce glow to them while he awaited your answer. You cleared your throat. “My mother won’t allow me to repurpose my dresses unless they are ruined. After wearing a dress a few times, I tend to accidentally rip it.”

“Hmm,” he says, tossing the fabric back down, “and what exactly do you do with them?”

“Myself and one of the seamstresses turn them into bedding or clothing to give to the poor.” Sighing, you start to fold the pieces of fabric into squares, placing them neatly onto the table. Keep your head low to hide the embarrassment; you probably sounded spoiled. “I know it isn’t much, but it should be criminal how much material is used for just one of my dresses when there are homeless people freezing during the nights and children running around naked in the streets of Flea Bottom.”

“Yes, the gods can be cruel.”

Your eyes narrow, and Daemon’s mocking tone irritates you until you spot a ghost of a smirk pulling on his lips. He was teasing you. “Perhaps one day the gods will be kind enough to help those who need them most.”

Daemon silently stares at you for a few moments, observing each of your actions as if something exciting could happen at any moment. His gaze slowly moves to the floor for a few seconds, as if he’s lost in thought. Daemon moves to another small table and sits beside it. He sniffs the remaining wine that you had brought earlier in the night and then takes a gulp of it, saying, “So tell me, what Dragon is it you ride?”

“Tyvaros.”

He tilts his head back, an amused look on his face. “Tyvaros is High Valyrian for serpent, is it not?”

“You know it is”, you sit down across from him and smile, “with scales as dark as coal and glowing green eyes. My dragon is basically a smaller version of the Cannibal, my black beauty.”

“I can’t imagine the same girl who gives her clothing to the less fortunate riding a dragon so ferocious.”

You lean across the table, reaching for the cup he just drank out of, and take a sip yourself. “You don’t know me well enough to make such assumptions.”

Grinning, he takes the cup from your hand and refills it before handing it back to you. He chuckles and says, “Dear niece, I think you are right; not to worry, we can always amend that. Now tell me, how often do you sneak out at night?”

—

Having little appetite, you pick at the food on your plate, washing what little you do eat down with wine. The room is silent aside from the sounds of scraping forks and knives until your mother says to you, “I haven’t seen that ring before; where did you get it from?”

You glance down at the delicate ring. It was a gold band with a red circular stone, one of the many gifts your uncle had given you over the past few moons. Daemon gave you books he thought you would enjoy, black and red dresses he assured you were made out of the cheapest fabric, and he even got a black collar decorated with emerald stones for your dragon. A gift your mother and grandsire were most pleased with, they assumed you had chosen the collar paying token to the Hightower family symbol, when in reality it was from a man whom they both despised. Neither of them made the connection between the green and matching Tyvaros eyes. Daemon had told you the ring was sentimental but never explained how so; you just knew he wore a matching one.

“It was a gift from a friend.”

The table is mostly quiet again. Aegon leers over and scrunches his nose up. “It’s hideous.”

“Good thing it’s not you who’s wearing it then, brother,” you say before dipping bread into the stew that was just placed in front of you.

You remain focused on your meal until you feel your hair being brushed behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Aemond stares at you intensely; his eye seems darker than usual as his fingers brush over a thin braid that had been hidden beneath the top layer of your hair.

Aemond seemed mad, but perhaps you were just imagining it.

Nights prior, during the hour of the owl, you had snuck out to meet with your uncle, and you sat in the gardens listening to tales of his daughters, who were currently staying with their grandmother, the queen who never was, Rhaenys Targaryen. It was clear he missed his daughters deeply, along with their mother, Lady Laena. As he spoke, Daemon played with your hair, braiding it as you drew a detailed picture of Caraxes flying in the night sky. Nothing inappropriate had happened between you and your uncle, but the thoughts you had of kissing him made it feel sinful, so you pretended your relationship with Daemon didn’t exist to others.

Aemond quickly pulled his hand away before returning to his meal, and all conversation ceased to exist once again.

—

You walk to your bedchamber with a smile on your face. You had spent the remainder of the afternoon with your sister Helaena, riding your dragons alongside one another. It isn’t until you are inside and begin to remove your riding gear that you notice a presence in your room. “Aemond!” You gasp, hand clasping on your chest, “What are you doing here?”

“Why not? I am your husband after all.”

The coldness in his tone causes you to tighten your grip on your recently removed jacket. You were wrong for ignoring the tingling of dread earlier when he spotted your braid. You clear your throat. “It is unlike you to come visit me; I’m surprised.”

“I regret not doing it sooner, wife.”

The word wife drips like venom from his tongue, and when you finally look at him again, you notice he’s holding your drawings. He scoffs before scrunching them up in his hands. “Tyvaros, Tessarion, Dreamfyre, Sunfyre, Syrax, Meleys, Seasmoke... hmm, you’ve drawn these dragons but not Vhagar.”

“I’ve not drawn the wild dragons either. I intend to draw them all eventually.”

“You’ve drawn that deformed-looking beast before mine!” He snaps, tossing a scrunched-up piece of paper with a drawing of Caraxes at your face, “Vhagar is my dragon, your husband's dragon!”

Tears well up in your eyes as his voice becomes louder and full of rage. You glance at the door. You could scream for the knight guarding your door, but realistically, he wouldn’t do anything to help you. Although you were a princess, he was a prince, and the knights would always defend the son of a king over a king's daughter. As frightened as you were, you would be damned if you let him know that, “If your intention was to frighten me, then you have failed.”

Aemond suddenly storms towards you; gripping your jaw tightly, he says, “Not to fear me is stupid. Foolish girl, not only are you sneaking around with our cunt of an uncle, but you now insult me even further by favoring him and his dragon over my own.”

“It was never meant as an insult; we all know Vhagar is a gift from the gods.”

He rolls his eyes at your weak attempt at softening him up. He glares at you and says, “You’ve made a fool of me.”

“Nothing has ever happened between me and Daemon. I enjoy his company; he cares what I have to say.”

You shake as Aemond lets go of your jaw and pulls his dagger from his belt. Tears roll down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for pain to come, but it never does. Feeling something tickle the tip of your nose, you open your eyes again to see your silver braid dangling like a prize that has been won in front of you. He lets out a dark chuckle, dropping it to the ground. “You’ve never let anyone braid your hair since we were children, not even your handmaidens.”

Your fear turns to anger. How dare he treat you in such a manner? When he is the one who created the toxic dynamic between you. You never wanted to marry Aemond, but you were prepared to perform your duty as a wife and princess, but he refused you each time. deprived you of not only children but also basic respect. “Tell me, brother, do you not feel guilt each time you look at me?” You pull up the sleeve of your dress, revealing your scared arm. “Every time I see this or a reflection of the one on my face, I curse the gods, then beg for their forgiveness for my lack of faith in them, and do you want to know why? It wasn’t them that did this to me.”

“It was an accident!”

“No,” you snort out with a laugh. “No, it wasn’t, not really. Deep down, you wanted to hurt me; you wanted to punish me for not wanting to help you seek revenge against our nephew.”

“Lucerys owes me a debt.”

“Does that mean you owe me one? Lucerys was just a boy defending his brother; you, on the other hand, are a brother who hurt his sister.” You shake your head at him and say, “When you saw the scar on my face, did you not think it was justice?”

Aemond knocks on the chamber door for the knight to open it, ignoring your question. He looks back at you and says, “You will no longer spend time with our uncle.”

Snorting out a laugh, you struggle to compose yourself. A smile spreads across your face. “Or what? You’ll have me locked away? You dishonor me each time you lay with your whores, and not once have I complained. I am not your property and will do as I please.”

“We’ll see.”

[erisweekofficial]

We're thrilled to shine a light on @zenkindoflove!!! Amanda is an absolute gem in the Elucien fandom AND Eris fandom and has also blessed us with Alexius, her incredible OC for her Eris x OC fics.

Alexius stands out as one of the few male OCs in the community, and the dynamic between him and Eris is nothing short of captivating. Think forced proximity, delicious yearning, witty banter, political intrigue, and all the tension you could dream of. You can see them in both Summer Heat (which has Elucien) and Pull Me in Deeper, which... y'all you gotta read this asap😍🤭🥵 Also the mods are begging you to read Taste of You, a short and delightfully smutty one shot.

And PLEASE admire this amazing art of Alexius and Eris!

Read more to learn about how @zenkindoflove was inspired to create content about Eris AND her extremely helpful tips for writing content about him. (We're taking notes)

What inspired you to start creating content about Eris?  I became curious about writing Eris after he was featured in some of my Elucien fics. When I started my multichapter Elucien fic Summer Heat, I decided that I would give him a male love interest in that fic and create an OC - which ended up being Alexius who you see featured in all of my Eris work. I originally intended for it to be a background relationship, but I decided to experiment and write the scene of their first meeting (a very smutty scene) just to do some character exploration. I didn’t intend to include it in the fic, but then once I wrote it, I knew that it was something special and Eris x Alexius became a true B storyline in that fic with a fully fleshed out love story. After that, I wanted to expand and write fics that focused on them which I've written several now and more to come for Eris Week! It's a bit niche. Hardly anyone writes Eris x Male OC but I'm obsessed now.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why? 

That would be my Eris x Alexius multichapter fic - Pull Me in Deeper. I love it because it was a way for me to explore Eris’ character when he is out of the watchful eye of his father and others in Prythian. It’s also just a fun action/adventure/romance story and I got to explore more lore and character building for my OC Alexius as well. Alexius was designed to be, in my opinion, the perfect person for Eris and that means often standing in contrast to a lot of his personality traits and pushing him outside of his comfort zone. So it was an incredibly fun dynamic to explore. And it’s two gay men who are on a quest to find out (*spoilers*) if unicorns exist XD.

How do you approach writing dialogue for Eris? 

I tend to lean into Eris being more careful with his words - so he is sharp, concise, and efficient in his word choice. Depending on who he’s sharing a scene with and the context, he can be severe and short or he can be long-winded and eloquent. And of course, he has banter and jabs a plenty. So I try to balance all those sides of him depending on the context.

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make Eris content? 

Eris inhabits a unique space in canon where he is truly a free agent when it comes to relationships. So, I would recommend if you want to write romances with Eris to lean into self-indulgence and write the pairing/story you really want to tell and try to let go of what you think will be popular. And if that ends up being Eris x OC rather than a canon character, know that it can actually be such a rewarding experience even if you don’t have a built in audience. Creating an OC to pair with Eris has been immensely fun and has broadened my creativity. Eris is a complex, interesting character with so many layers and building someone to fit him and find out what is underneath all of those layers can lead you down quite an obsessive path. But a fun one. 

Please give us a name for one of Eris’s Brothers

Kian. He is the third oldest and is more of a scholarly type. Now that second brother Conan is dead, he is next in line after Eris.

Please give us a name for one of Eris's Dogs.

Lithia. She just had puppies in PMID and Eris is worried about her. 

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Quick discretion, everything in this chapter is in third person, including the flashback sequences. It was a bit difficult to explain since it’s a lot of backstory but I tried LOL. Bear with me.

Also, if you have a different type of hair texture, imagine a certain part in this chapter however you’d like. You’ll understand when you read it.

Another thing, I know I refer to y/n as her own person. It just makes it easier for me but YOU are still one of the main characters. I just do it because I know people tend to imagine an OC, it’s easier for me and I SUCK at writing from a second person point of view. So don’t take any offense if I refer to y/n as ‘her’ or ‘she’, that’s just me.

Okay, enough of my rambling lol. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Springfield, Ohio

Sam and Y/N sat at the table in the skeevy motel room, ‘Walk Away’ by James Gang blaring through the radio as Dean lounged on Sam’s bed, very messily and noisily eating chili cheese fries. Y/N’s head was pounding from the already sleepless nights she had, glaring at Dean through her large dark sunglasses who seemed to not have a care in the world.

She rubbed her temples through the hoodie that was covering her head before turning back to her papers as Sam’s eyes flickered over to his brother, “Dude, you mind not eating those on my bed?” Sam said annoyed, “No, I don’t mind” Dean said nonchalantly before stuffing his mouth again. Y/N rolled her eyes again as Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head at his idiot brother.

She leaned forward, rubbing her temples, the music on the radio irritating her. “How’s research going?” Dean asked sarcastically, smacking his lips. “You know how it’s going?” Y/N gritted her teeth, slamming the book infront of her shut. “Slow!” She snapped, “You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster?” Sam piped up. “If we had our computers!” He sassed.

“Mm” Dean flashed them a sarcastic smile and nod, making y/n grumble and bury her head into her hands. Sam and Y/N let out frustrated groans, the loud music pounding on their already tired brains. Y/N's head was throbbing. She finally had enough of the music on the radio, “Can you turn that down, please?!” She snapped at Dean. “Yeah, absolutely” Dean muttered, reaching over to the radio, turning it up higher.

Sam and y/n both sat back in frustration as the music blared louder. Dean had a smug smirk on as he continued stuffing his face with the chili cheese fries, which only seemed to anger the pair further while the two side eyed him.

“I’m gonna kill him…I’m gonna kill him” Y/N muttered lowly to herself, shaking her head as she looked up to the sky. “You know what?!” Sam shouted over the music as Dean licked his chili cheese coated fingers, “Maybe you should just go somewhere for a while, huh?!” He yelled.

Dean then turned off the radio, “Hey, I’d love to. That’s a great idea. But unfortunately, my cars all screwed to hell” Dean retorted angrily, shooting an accusatory glare at y/n. “Dean, I told you, I had nothing to do with that!” Y/N defended, still mad at the fact that he thought she would hurt Baby. “It might not seem like it, but I value my life, I’d never lay a finger on Baby”

“Bullshit!” Dean snapped, standing up from his seat, “You were the last one to use my goddamn car, who else would’ve done it?!” Sam was stuck in the middle of the two as Dean got in y/n’s face to glare down at her. He fished out his phone from his pocket, quickly typing on his keypad.

‘They’re going at it again. I’m gonna explode…D:<.’ he texted Jo.

After a moment, Jo responded while on her own hunt with her mom after reconciling.

‘Don’t explode, you’re the mediator of those two. Sorry I can’t be there but keep the peace as always.’ She replied.

“I didn’t do it!” Y/N yelled back, their faces inches away from each other. “Maybe you just can’t accept it was just an accident! Maybe you can’t accept the fact that I care about Baby just as much as you do!” She snapped back at him. Sam watched as his brother and Y/N continued to go at it, both sides shouting profanities at each other.

“Bullshit!”

“Why don’t you believe me!?”

“Because you’re the only one who used my car and then suddenly, all her tires were aired out!”

“And I told you I didn’t do a damn thing to her! Maybe if you weren’t such a dumbass, you would’ve noticed I didn’t do anything!” Y/N retorted, her voice beginning to grow hoarse.

‘Does it look like I wanna get my head chewed off?’ Sam texted back.

‘Don’t be a baby. Be a mediator! xx’ Jo encouraged him.

Sam rolled his eyes at the response, standing up and putting an end to the two. He quickly walked over to the pair. “Both of you, stop it!” He said, separating the two with a shove to both of their shoulders. “We are in a crowded motel room. Please stop shouting at each other before the neighbors notice.” He huffed.

Dean and Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Sam as he got in the way of their glaring contest, they both huffed at the same time. “I’m not done with his ass yet!” Y/N snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “Neither am I.” Dean retorted, mirroring her actions, both with their eyes still narrowed at each other.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why are you two always arguing like cats and dogs?” He asked in an exasperated tone. “These days. You act like you hate each other one second then the next, you don’t. You barely talk, and when you do, you’re always at each other’s throats! What the fuck is the matter with you two?!”

Dean and Y/N turned their attention to Sam, their eyes still narrowed but this time directed at him. He huffed again, running a hand through his hair.

The sound of knocking at the door caused all their heads to snap in the direction, exchanging angry looks, a little on edge before y/n grumbled to herself and paced towards it. She looked through the peephole to see Bobby and much to her surprise, Jo, shooting the boys another glare before twisting the door knob, pulling it open. “Hey guys” She smiled at the old man and young woman.

He gave y/n a weird look at her attire, the hoodie over her head and large sunglasses seemed out of place but he brushed it off. “Hey, kids” Bobby greeted them with a smile, reaching over to hug y/n. She returned the hug before moving aside to let him in before hugging Jo, who returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s frame before letting go. “Hey, Bobby” Dean said excitedly as Y/N shut the door.

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing Jo, his heart unconsciously skipping a beat. Sam was caught off guard, his heartbeat quickening as he caught sight of Jo. He couldn’t hold back a small smile as he took in her appearance. “You just- I thought you were-“ Sam stuttered, holding up his phone.

Bobby, Dean and Y/N chuckled at the sight of a flabbergasted Sam. Jo smirked, “Did you miss me that much?” she teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Finished up my hunt early, figured I’d repay the surprise visit” She added with a shrug and a small smile. Sam’s cheeks tinted pink as he chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s uh, good to see you” he admitted, looking down at his feet shyly.

Dean, who was watching the exchange with a smirk, couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look, their previous argument forgotten and they smirked at Sam and Jo.

“It’s good to see you again so soon” Bobby broke the silence as Sam recuperated, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah, uh, thanks for coming” Sam chuckled, “Come on in. Thank god you’re here” Dean added as Sam, Jo and Y/N walked back over to the beds while Dean reached over, putting his hand out to give Bobby a firm handshake, which he returned.

“So, um, what didn’t you wanna talk to me about?” He asked them, concerned. “It’s this job we’re working..we were sure you’d believe us” Sam said sheepishly, earning a chuckle from Bobby. “Well, I can believe a lot” He responded ironically. “No, yeah, yeah. We know, it’s just we- we’ve never seen anything like it-” Y/N chuckled. “Not even close,” Dean added. “And we thought we could use some fresh eyes,” Sam chimed in.

Bobby shrugged, “Well, why don’t you begin at the beginning?” Jo said. They all shared a look at this before Y/N nodded, “Yeah, um, alright, please” She gestured for him to take a seat. Bobby and Y/N sat on Dean's bed while Dean sat on Sam’s bed. Sam pulled a chair for Jo, offering her to sit before settling in the chair next to her.

“So…it all started when we caught wind of an obit, see, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window.” Sam began, “Only, there’s a campus legend that the building’s haunted. So, we all pretexted as reporters from the local paper” Y/N added.

Sam and Y/N’s Version

•Flashback

Sam sat in front of the two college students at a table in a crowded local bar, resting the recorder down on the table. “Yeah, we both have the professor for ethics and morality” Curtis, a jock, told Sam, ripping his beer. “Yeah? So why do you think he did it?” Sam asked casually, “Who knows? He was tenured, wife and kids, his book is like a really big deal” Jen, next to Curtis, gushed, “..But then again, who’s the say it was suicide” She whispered to the younger Winchester.

His brows perked up at this, “Jen, come on” Curtis groaned, “Well, what else could it have been?” Sam chuckled, “Well, you know about Crawford Hall?” Jen began, “No, I don’t actually” Sam pushed himself up in his seat, intrigued, “It’s a bunch of crap. It’s a total urban legend.” Curtis rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well Heather’s mom went to school here and she knew the girl” Jen defended, “Wait, what girl?” Sam chimed in curiously.

“Like, 30 years ago, the girl was having an affair with some professor” Jen began as Sam listened intently while the jock snorted in amusement, “He broke it off. Then she jumped out the window and killed herself.” She finished. “You know her name?” Sam asked urgently, “No. But they say she jumped from Room 669” She whispered, “Get it? You turn the 9 upside down…”

Curtis chuckled while Sam nodded, offering her a small smile. She shot Curtis a side eye before turning back to Sam. “So now she haunts the building, and anyone who sees, they don’t live to tell the tale” Jen finished her story, “Well, if no one lives to tell the tale, then how does the tale get told?” Curtis quipped, “Curtis! Shut up!” Jen snapped at him, “You know what? Uh, thanks a lot, guys. Excuse me” Sam said kindly before taking up his tape recorder, making his way over to y/n.

Y/N sat at the bar sipping on a beer as she leaned onto the counter, flirting with a bartender. Her eyes flickered over to Dean every now and then, clenching her jaw as he flirted with a cute blonde. She cleared her throat before turning back to the bartender.

“Come on, give me another one” she requested with a coy smile as the bartender chuckled, “You sure you can handle it?” He teased, pouring her another shot, “Oh, I can handle it” she smirked, downing the shot as Sam approached her. “Hey” He greeted, taking the seat next to her at the bar and ordering a beer, “Find anything out?” Y/N asked, her eyes glancing briefly back to Dean and the blonde, who now had their heads closer than before, Dean laughing at something she said.

“Yeah, uh, where’s Dean?” Sam informed her, looking around the bar for his brother. Y/N chuckled bitterly, pointing her eyes towards Dean where he was sitting with the blonde, “Right there” she mumbled. Sam followed her eyes, groaning as he realized what was going on, turning his eyes back to y/n with a sympathetic look as he sipped his beer, “Damn it. Come on, let’s go” Sam grabbed her hand, padding towards Dean who was downing a weird looking liquid in a shot glass.

Dean grunted as he took another of the purple shots, slamming the glass down on the counter, banging his head to the music. “Dean, what are you- what are you drinking?” Y/N grimaced as Dean burped loudly in her face, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know, man. I think they’re called purple nurple” Dean slurred drunkenly, a wide smile on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, “Okay, listen. I think maybe we should go check out the professor's office.” Sam suggested but Dean shook his head rapidly, “Oh no no no no no. I can’t right now.” He muttered, his eyes glancing to y/n who raised her brows at him, “Because I’ve got some…uh, I’ve got a feisty wildcat on the hook, I’m bout to-” He made the fishing line noise with his mouth.

“-reel her in. I’ll introduce you” He smirked as their eyes flickered over to the skeevy dressed, cute blonde woman. Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “Yeah, we’ll pass” she muttered but Dean didn’t care, still smiling at them, “Come on, it’ll be fun” he insisted but Y/N and Sam looked at him unamused.

“Starla. Starla, hey” Dean turned, tapping the woman on her shoulder. “Mm?” She smiled drunkenly, knocking back a shot as she turned to them. “This is my co-pilots, Major Tom and our friend Charlotte” He pointed to Sam and Y/N, using names from the hit movie, Top Gun. “Tom and Charlotte, Starla” Dean pumped his brows as Starla giggled, wrapping her arm around Dean.

“Mmm, Enchanté” She smiled drunkenly, extending her hand out for Y/N to shake. “Hi” Y/N shook the girl’s hand awkwardly, giving a forced closed lips smile, forcing herself to hold back from grimacing at the woman, now practically wrapped around Dean, who was grinning widely, nodding his head before Starla started gagging.

Dean and Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, looking dumbfounded as Sam stepped back in case she vomited over all of them. "Are you okay, hun?” Y/N asked, a worried look in her eyes as Starla’s face went all sweaty but she nodded shakily. Swallowing before smiling at y/n again.

“Sorry. Just trying to keep my liquor down” She giggled, smiling at the hunter. “Yeah. Good job” Dean chuckled, wrapping his arm around Starla’s waist before turning back to Sam and y/n. Sam looked at him in disbelief, shaking his head, “Yeah. Good job” Y/N mimicked Dean’s words mockingly, pursing her lips into a frown. Dean didn’t seem to hear her as he turned back to them.

“Hey. Good news, she’s got a sister” He pumped his eyebrows suggestively at Sam while y/n rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. Starla did the same at Dean, pumping her brows suggestively at Y/N, wrapping her arm around Dean again. “I’ve got a two sisters if you’re into th-”

•Present Time

“Woah woah woah woah. Hold on a minute” Dean interrupted their storytelling, offended, “What?” Sam said as he and Y/N shot him an innocent look, “Come on, guys. That’s not how it happened” Dean defended, “No?” Y/N snorted, pushing her sunglasses further up her face as Bobby eyed the three suspiciously, both him and Jo sharing a skeptical look.

“So, you’ve never drank a purple nurple?” Sam scoffed, “Yeah, maybe that. But I don’t say things like ‘feisty little wildcat’. I’m a feminist, and her name wasn’t Starla” Dean further defended himself as Y/N rolled her eyes. “Then what was her name?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him below her glasses, folding her arms over her chest. Dean thought for a second, stumped. “I don’t know. But she was a classy chick”

Sam snorted in amusement as he and Y/N shared a knowing look, “Some feminist” Y/N mumbled as they shook their heads. Dean shot her an offended side eye but decided to brush her snarky comment off, “She was a grad student. Anthropology and Folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories” Dean began to tell his story.

Dean’s Version

•Flashback

Dean was standing in front of the classily dressed blonde woman, sporting a pair of heels and an almost floor length black dress that clung to her curves, toasting with two shots. “Here’s to…” The woman began, a coy smile on her face. “Here’s to us” Dean smirked, toasting with her before downing the shots, their eyes never leaving each other.

“My God, you are attractive” The woman breathed out lustfully, her eyes roaming over Dean. “Thanks” Dean smirked his eyes glancing over to y/n who was aggressively giggling with a bartender, she threw a shot of whiskey down her throat before slamming onto the counter. Then she took out a pen from her jacket pocket as she flashed the bartender a sultry smile.

Writing something down on a cocktail napkin before reaching over and stuffing it into his pocket. His jaw clenched as his eyes went back to the woman in front of him, “But no time for that now” He cleared his throat, his tone serious and a bit exaggerated.

The woman licked her lips, her lustful gaze intensified as Dean spoke, “You need to tell me about this urban legend. Please, lives are at stake” Dean’s eyes darkened, “I’m sorry, I just- I can’t even concentrate. It’s like staring….” She responded, her voice filled with desire before reaching forward, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck.

Her mouth found his in a slow lust filled kiss as Sam and Y/N approached the two. Sam with a very judgmental look on her face and Y/N seemed as if she couldn’t care less, looking bored as she rolled her eyes as propping herself on the counter beside them. “Dean, what do you think you’re doing?” Sam’s pensive voice broke the two apart.

“Sam, Y/N. Please.” Dean said calmly, wiping his lips. In reality, y/n wanted to reach over and slam that chicks face into the counter but all Dean saw was an annoyed impatient version of her that wanted to get back to that bartender she was flirting with. “If you wouldn’t mind, just give me five minutes here”

“Dean, this is a very important investigation.” Y/N snapped, glaring at him. “Yeah, we don’t have time for your any of your blah-blah-blah-blah” Sam added exasperatedly, “Blah-blah blah-blah” Y/N scoffed as Dean smirked before going back to the woman in front of him, leaning forward to kiss her again, their lips connecting, making y/n’s nostrils flare, that burning feeling in her chest rising again.

She felt sick to her stomach as Sam continued, “Blah, blah blah blah blah!!” Sam rambled on as the two lips moved against each others. Him and Y/N shared an annoyed look before screaming, “BLAHH!!!”

•Present Time

“Right, and that’s how it really happened?!” Sam interrupted Dean’s over exaggeration of a story as Y/N shot daggers at him. Dean just shrugged, a smug look on his face. “We don’t sound like that! I don’t look like that! And I didn’t give that bartender my number!” Y/N shouted defensively, “Bullshit and that’s what you two sound like to me” Dean shot back smugly, “Okay, what’s going on with you three?” Jo cut into their argument, her tone suspicious as Bobby eyed them.

“Nothing. It’s nothing” Sam rolled his eyes, his tone tired. “Come on. Now, you’re bickering like an old married couple” Bobby stated, pointing between Dean and Y/N. “And you’re like their oversized angsty teenage kid” He added, pointing to Sam. “No. See, married couples can get divorced” Dean glared at Y/N, “Me and her, were like uh. Siamese twins, and he’s a jackass” Dean scoffed as he pushed himself up from the bed.

“It’s conjoined twins!” “I’m not a jackass!” Y/N and Sam shouted simultaneously at Dean as he walked to the fridge, “See what I mean?” Dean quipped while looking at Bobby and Jo. Y/N rubbed her temples, tired of it all as Jo took in her attire. “What’s with the getup? You becoming a nun?” Jo asked curiously, nudging towards the hoodie and sunglasses.

“Her? A nun? Please.” Dean snorted amused as her sipped his beer he got from the fridge, throwing his head back as he laughed. “Go to hell!” Y/N growled, snatching a pillow from the bed before tossing it at him. This just made Dean cackle more, “We’ll get to that part” Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “Look, it…” Sam began, taking a deep breath before glaring at his brother from across the room.

“We’ve all just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don’t worry about it” Sam sighed as Jo gave him a sympathetic look. “Okay” Jo said softly, resting her hand on his lap comfortingly. Sam blushed softly and looked away. Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

‘Idiots’ she thought to herself.

Clearing her throat, “So, anyways. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime” Y/N began again.

Sam and Y/N’s version

•Flashback

The trio were at the Crawford Hall, “So, how long you been working here?” Sam asked the janitor who they convinced to let them in, disguised as electricians. Y/N’s eyes narrowed at the man’s throat, she could’ve sworn she saw a little white glow right at the base of his throat but it quickly disappeared. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head. Dismissing it as lack of sleep.

“I’ve been mopping this floor for six years” The janitor responded as he turned the key to the deceased office, pushing the door open. The room was dark, so he reached in and flipped the switch. “There you go, guys.” He sighed, walking in as Sam took out his EMF meter.

“What the heck that’s for?” He asked curiously. “Just finding wires in the walls” Y/N chuckled nervously, attempting to snatch the EMF meter away from Sam but he quickly pulled his hand away. “But my partner seems to forget that I can find them without that” She glared at Sam. He returned the glare before huffing. “Ah, well. I’m not sure why you’re wiring up the this office. Not gonna do the professor much good” The janitor shrugged as he leaned against the wall.

Y/N moved around the room, pressing her hand to the wall. Looking for any source of energy or spirit while Sam used the EMF meter just in case. “Why’s that?” Dean asked curiously, “He’s dead” The janitor said simply. “Oh, what happened?” Y/N asked, surprised, walking back over to them as Dean paced towards the desk. “He went out that window, right there” The janitor stated, leaning off the wall, pointing to the window.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, feigning surprise. “Were you working that night?” He questioned, “I’m the one who found him” The janitor stated again as Dean picked up one of the chocolates from the bowl on the professor's table, stuffing it into his mouth. Y/N raised her brow at him but shook her head, turning back to the two men. “You see it happen?” She asked, clearing her throat.

“Nope. I just saw him come up here and, uh…Well..” The janitor trailed off, a sly smile on his face. Sam and Y/N noticed this, sharing a look. “What?” Sam asked, a bit amused, “He wasn’t alone” The janitor explained, causing the two younger hunters to share a look again, putting in faux-amused and intrigued faces.

“Who was he with?” Dean mumbled, approaching them again. His mouth now stuffed with chocolates, the bowl in his hand, cheeks puffed like a bunny. Their eyes widened as Sam’s face paled at Dean’s unprofessionalism. Y/N internally facepalmed before roughly snatching the bowl away from Dean.

•Present Time

“Come on! I ate one, maybe two” Dean interrupted their story defensively, “Just let us tell it, okay?” Sam clapped back.

Sam and Y/N’s version

•Flashback

Dean grumbled at Y/N for snatching away the bowl from him as he chewed, his mouth still filled with the chocolates. “He was with a young lady” The janitor eyed him weirdly. Dean pumped his brows intrigued, “I told the cops about her, but, uh, I guess they never found her” The janitor shrugged.

“You saw this girl go in, huh?” Y/N asked, slapping away Dean’s hand that was reaching into the bowl. He winced, rubbing his sore hand but still stuffed the chocolate he retrieved into his already full mouth. Y/N glared at him, earning a smug smile. Sam glared at his brother before turning back to the janitor.

“Did you ever see her come out?” Sam asked, clearing his throat. “Now that you mention it, no” The janitor thought a bit before responding, “You ever see her before around?” Y/N asked as Dean reached into the bowl again, she slapped his hand away again but this time a bit more roughly. He winced once more, grumbling under his breath about her being ‘violent’ before stuffing his mouth again with the chocolate.

“Well, not her” The janitor said smugly, pumping his brows, giving them a knowing look. “What do you mean?” Dean asked through a stuffed mouth, Sam and Y/N glared at him again. “I don’t mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy…but, uh, Mr. Morality here?” The janitor snorted as Sam and Y/N listened intently.

Amused looks on their faces along with Dean who was still chewing, “He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat” The janitor mused, causing Dean to let out a scandalous laugh. Attempting to take another chocolate from the bowl in Y/N’s hand.

“Hey!” Y/N snapped, smacking his hand again, making him sulk as Sam tried to keep a straight face. Dean huffed, crossing his arms as Y/N and the janitor continued their conversation, laughing at Dean like he was a child being disciplined.

“One more thing. Uh, this building, it only had four stories, right?” Sam asked, “Yeah” The janitor nodded, “So there wouldn’t be a Room 669?” Y/N asked, using her hand to barrier herself from Dean and the bowl of chocolates in her other hand, holding it out of his reach.

“Of course not. Why do you ask?” The janitor chuckled, “Ah, just curious” Sam brushed it off. “Thanks hun” Y/N said sweetly, resting the bowl of chocolates back down on the table as Dean eyed the room, obnoxiously chewing.

-

The next day, Dean entered the motel room, “Well, no traces of EMF, no feelings, that’s for sure” Sam said as Dean shut the door, Sam was currently hunched over the desk, rubbing his eyes. “And that Room 669 is a load of crap” Dean added, dropping their bag of food on the table. Sam let out a deep breath as Dean took out his phone to call y/n and tell her that he brought back breakfast.

“So, what do you think, the professor’s just a jumper?” Sam asked as Dean took three beers out from the fridge, his phone pressed to his ear. “I mean, the girl the janitor described, that’s pretty weird.” Dean grunted, opening his beer. Suddenly, his phone beeped as the voicemail picked up. “That’s weird,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah” Sam sighed, resting his elbow on the table. “We ought to check out the history of the building” Dean suggested, leaning against the counter, sipping his beer as Sam popped open his beer. “See if any coed ganked herself there” Dean added before resting his beer down on the counter, pacing towards the bathroom. “Yeah, right” Sam mumbled, opening his laptop placed on the desk.

His brows furrowed as he opened the screen to see it frozen on a very….provocative site. He then took up y/n’s computer, which was next to his. To see it frozen on the same site. “Dude, were you on me and y/n’s computers?” Sam bellowed, causing Dean to poke his head out from the bathroom door. “No” He denied, shaking his head. “Oh, really?” Sam scoffed.

“Because it’s frozen now on, uh, busty(your ethnicity)beauties.com?” Dean’s brows knitted together as he grimaced slightly, attempting to feign confusion but he was caught. He didn’t answer and suddenly, a womanly shriek came from y/n’s motel room, next to theirs. The brothers shared a confused look as they heard her door slam shut and feet padding down the hall, sounding rather angry.

“Speak of the devil,” Dean muttered before the room was filled with furious banging on their motel room door. Sam and Dean share a look before Sam groaned, shutting the laptops, moving to open the door. He swung it open to see a veryyy pissed y/n, steam was practically barreling out of her ears. But that wasn’t the only unusual thing, her hair was now a bright color of green and her eyebrows were nowhere to be seen.

Dean let out a bark of laughter as soon as his eyes landed on her, Sam just gaped in shock. “What happened?” Sam asked, clearly holding back any laughter that threatened to bubble. “WHICH ONE OF YOU JACKASSES DID THIS?!?” She shrieked, shoving Sam inwards by his chest before slamming their room door shut.

“What?!” Sam grunted, his back hitting the wall. Dean burst into another fit of laughter. The eldest Winchester held onto the end of the table to support himself as his laughter turned more hysterical.

“I’m gonna kill you, Dean!!” Y/N shouted furiously, charging at Dean. “Whoa, whoa!” Sam quickly grabbed her by her waist. Preventing her from taking a swing at Dean who was still laughing his ass off. “LET ME GO SAMUEL!!” She screamed, thrashing in Sam’s hold. “Hey, hey! Calm down!” Sam tried to calm her as he continued to have a tight grip on her.

The young hunter, still trying to wrestle her way out of his grasp. “Don’t tell me to calm down! HE TURNED MY HAIR GREEN AND SHAVED MY FUCKING EYEBROWS OFF!!!”

“Wha-?!” Sam gaped down at her, still keeping her from getting to his brother. His eyes darted over to Dean who’s laughing had now subsided, only leaving a few chuckles. “As much as I would love to take credit for this” He snorted, gesturing to her very funny appearance.

“I had nothing to do with this” He denied. “Then who did?!” Y/N hissed, still wriggling in Sam’s grip. Her arms thrashing to try and hit him. This just made Dean’s chuckles turn into laughs again. “You?!” She turned to Sam.

“No no no no” Sam immediately denied, eyes widening. The youngest Winchester looked absolutely offended that she would consider him a part of this crime. The sound of Dean’s laughter grew louder again.

“Then who did?!” Y/N repeated again, eyes bouncing between the brothers. Sam just shrugged, trying to control an amused smirk. Dean however was back to clutching the edge of the table, his face reddening as he laughed his ass off again.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Dean and attempted to lunge at him again for his laughing. “Stop!!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing her again. This time, he wrapped his arms completely around her. Using his weight to pin her against him, her back to his chest.

Dean let out another burst of cackles. “I’m gonna kill him!! Let me go!!” She shouted, struggling in his grip. Sam had to quickly put a large hand over her mouth, muffling her enraged threats. Her eyes balled over its flash of white and Sam’s eyes widened when he saw her hands brighten a light shade of aqua blue.

“Don’t you dare use that shit on me, L/N!” He grunted, holding her tightly.

•Present Time

As they explained the story to Jo and Bobby. Jo was cackling at the story as Bobby rolled his eyes at the kids, “So that’s why you’re suddenly a nun!” Jo laughed hysterically, slapping a hand on her knee as Y/N glared at her. “Haha, very funny” Y/N grumbled, rolling her eyes. Sam shook his head at the two women, trying to hide his smile. Dean with an amused smile on his face, luckily, y/n didn’t see it because she would’ve lunged at him again.

“Do you know the damage this is gonna do to my hair?! And how long my eyebrows are gonna take to grow back?!” She exclaimed, pulling down the hoodie, taking off the glasses to reveal it again. “Who the hell did it though?” Bobby asked curiously. All the eyes in the room turned to Dean who immediately threw his hands up in surrender.

“I swear it wasn’t me” He held a pleading tone in his voice, trying to prove his innocence. Sam’s shoulders shook, a snicker of laughter threatening to come out of his mouth. But Y/N didn’t believe him, causing her glare to intensify.

Bobby let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal coed?” He asked. “No. History’s clean” Sam shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Then it’s not a haunting” Jo added. “Nope. Definitely not. To tell you the truth, we’re not really sure” Y/N said honestly.

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” Bobby narrowed his eyes at them confused. “Well, it’s weird” Sam started as Dean and Y/N shrugged. “What’s weird?” Jo asked, leaning forward in her chair. “This next part, we, uh, didn’t see it happen ourselves exactly but….it’s pretty fucking weird. Even for us” Dean stated.

Dean then told the story about Curtis, the jock Sam interviewed in the bar. He explained that Curtis claimed to have been abducted by aliens when walking back to his dorm in the middle of the night. Stating that Curtis claimed he barely made it out alive.

“Aliens?!” Bobby and Jo exclaimed flabbergasted. “Yeah” Sam nodded, “Aliens?!” Bobby exclaimed again as Jo’s jaw hit the ground. “Yeah” Dean and Y/N said in unison, crossing their arms over their chests simultaneously. “Look, even if they are real. They’re such as hell not coming to Earth and swiping people” Bobby stated as if the fact was stupid.

“Hey, believe me. We know” Dean argued, “My whole life, I’ve never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction. It’s all just cranks and pranks” Bobby stated again. “Yeah, that’s what we thought” Sam said, “But, we figured we’d at least talk to the guy” Y/N added.

Sam, Dean and Y/N’s Version

•Flashback

Sam, Dean and Y/N were back at the bar, Curtis was sat infront of them with a line of shots. Knocking them back, looking disoriented and traumatized. “Hey, you gotta get those purple nurples a shot. Phew” Dean suggested, chuckling. This earned him a glare from Curtis, causing his amused smile to drop as Sam and Y/N cleared their throats.

“So, what happened, Curtis?” Y/N asked him gently, pressing her elbows to the table as she pushed up her sunglasses covering her eyebrow less eyes. He looked at her shyly, “You won’t believe me. Nobody does” He shrugged, his tone raspy as he folded his arms over his chest. “Give us a chance” Sam added softly, “I do not want this in the papers” He pointed firmly at Sam, a shot in his hand.

“Off the record then” Dean assured him, he hesitated for a second before tossing back another shot. Slamming it into the table, “I, uh….I blacked out and….” He began as Dean’s eyes glanced over to Sam and y/n, a unsure look playing in his features. “…and I lost time and when I woke up, I don’t know where I was” Curtis explained.

“And then what?” Y/N asked in a soft tone, offering him a small smile. “They did tests on me..” Curtis croaked, tearing up. “And, um..” He hesitated, picking up another shot before knocking it back down his throat. He took a deep breath, “They, um….They probed me”. All of their eyebrows shot up at this, Y/N’s jaw hitting the ground as Sam held back an amused smile, scratching the back of his head.

“They probed you?” Dean repeated, his brows knitting together. “Yeah, they probed me” Curtis nodded, his tone a bit angrier now. “Again and again and again, and….” He teared up, his voice cracking before knocking back another shot. Y/N’s jaw was still in the ground as Dean’s brows furrowed even more.

The three hunters gave each other unsure and amused looks, trying to bite back their smiles. All forcing serious faces, “And again and again, and again, and then one more time” Curtis slurred, putting up a finger. “Yikes” Y/N muttered, forcing her gaze on her hands, grimacing at the thought of getting probed.

“You know, that’s not even the worst part of it.” Curtis croaked, “How could it get any worse? I mean, some alien made you his bitch” Dean snorted, his words leaving his mouth before he could think. This earned him another glare from Curtis while y/n reached up and smacked the elder Winchester at the back of his head.

“Ow!” Dean exclaimed, reaching up to rub the spot Y/N hit. She shot him a warning look through her glasses, which he didn’t see but he already knew that look she always gave him whenever he couldn’t keep his trap shut, causing him to hold up his hands in surrender. Sam quickly cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to Curtis who was glaring at Dean with tear filled eyes.

“Curtis, forget about him. What’s the worst part?” Sam asked, giving Dean a side glare. “They…they made me slow dance” Curtis stammered.

-

‘Lady in Redddddd…is dancing with meee…cheek to cheek’

The music filled the room as Curtis awkwardly danced with the gray alien, half his height, under the sparkly disco ball. The alien wrapped its hands around Curtis’ waist, the jock stiff with feet as the extraterrestrial creature and he slowly danced to ‘The Lady In Red’ by Chris De Burgh.

‘There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me’

The alien looked up at Curtis, as if it was lovingly gazing at the jock, who was grimacing.

-

The trio gaped at Curtis, their lips parting as they tried to hold back their laughter from seeing this image in their heads. Y/N and Sam were holding back chuckles while Dean was biting his tongue, holding his mouth tightly shut. The three hunters bit their lips as Curtis explained the story. Sam and Y/N nodding understandably.

•Present Time

The trio was now sitting on the couch, Y/N sandwiched between the two Winchester brothers, her feet kicked up in the coffee table as she took a drag from her cigarette. “You guys are exaggerating again, huh?” Jo questioned as she and Bobby paced the room. “No” They all deadpanned in unison.

“Then this frat boy is just nuts” Bobby said unconvinced, “We’re not so sure” Dean shook his head.

Dean’s Version

•Flashback

They were in front of Crawford Hall, the crowd of students chattering, heading to classes as the hunters stared at the gaping round brown patch of grass in the middle of the ground, directly where Curtis said he got abducted. “I’m telling you, guys. This was made by some kind of jet engine” Sam insisted.

Y/N’s hands were buried in her hoodie pockets, tucking in a piece of her green hair into the dark hood. “What, you mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?” Dean scoffed. “Well, what else could it be?” Y/N retorted snippy. “What the fuck?” Dean muttered, “We don’t know” Sam sighed. “No, seriously, dude. What the fuck?” Dean grunted again, frustrated.

“We don’t know!” Y/N snapped, “I mean, first the fake haunting, now this? The timing alone, there’s gotta be some kind of connection here” Sam added, equally frustrated. “What, you mean, between the fake angry spirit and the sexed-up ET?” Dean sassed as Sam and Y/N shrugged. “What could the connection possibly be?” He scoffed.

•Present Time

“But what could we do? We just kept on digging” Dean stated before he continued his story.

Dean’s Version

•Flashback

“So, you and this guy Curtis, you’re in the same house?” Sam asked the young college boy, “Yeah” The guy nodded. “You heard of what happened to him, right?” Dean asked, “Yeah, he said it was aliens, but, you know, whatever” The guys shrugged. Y/N pouted at this as Sam sighed heavily, “Look, hun, I know this all has to be so hard..” She said sympathetically.

“Um, not so much” The guy shook his head, seemingly okay and nonchalant. “But I want you to know…” Sam cut in, glancing over at Y/N before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “We want you to know…we’re here for you” Sam flashed him his classic big puppy dog eyes as y/n nodded frantically in agreement, the guy looked around awkwardly

“You brave little soldier” Y/N cooed as tears welled up in both her and Sam’s eyes. “We acknowledge your pain” Sam added exasperatedly as the college boy looked freaked out by them, “Come here” Sam said before pulling the guy into a hug. Y/N placed a hand over her heart, doing the same. Giving the college boy a big group hug.

The college boy looked very confused as Dean stood off to the side, watching the hug and trying to hold back his laughter. “You’re too precious for this world” Sam grunted, taking a deep breath.

•Present Time

“We never said that!” Sam and Y/N exclaimed in unison, glaring at Dean. “Well, you two are always saying pansy stuff like that” Dean snorted as Bobby and Jo continued to look at them inquisitively.

Dean’s Version

•Flashback

Sam and Y/N were clutching onto the college boy, arms wrapped tightly around him as they breathed heavily, “Well, um….thanks. Thanks for the hug” The college boy mumbled awkwardly into y/n’s chest, which his head was buried in. “Yeah” Sam said, “Sure thing hun” Y/N smiled at him, letting go, her hand caressing his cheek.

“But, uh, I’m okay. Really” The boy assured them, Dean snorted from behind them, clearly holding back his laughter as Sam and Y/N shot another glare at him over their shoulders as Sam tapped the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “To tell you the truth, Curtis. He had it coming” The boy said honestly, “Why's that?” Dean asked curiously.

“He’s our pledge master. Put us through hell this semester.” He explained, “Man, he got off on it. So now he knows how we feel” The boy said sadly as Sam and Y/N pouted, sympathizing with the boy. “Huh” Dean nodded. “It’s okay, sweetheart” Dean patted her and Sam’s shoulders comfortingly as tears sprung from their eyes.

-

“It still doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Dean grunted as they entered the motel room. “But hey, at least there’s one connection” Y/N said optimistically as Dean stripped his jacket off. “Between what?” Sam asked, “The victims. The professor and the frat guy” Dean added as he sat on the chair near the table along with y/n and Sam settled on the bed. “They’re both dicks,” Dean snorted, tossing his feet up and Y/N’s lap.

“That’s a connection?” Sam huffed, “You got anything better to go on, we’d love to hear it” Y/N retorted as Sam dug through his laptop bag. “Where’s my laptop?” He asked, shooting an accusatory look at Dean. “I don’t know” Dean mumbled as Y/N raised her brows. She tossed his feet off roughly and began looking for her own as Dean rambled on.

“I mean, think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed.” Dean continued as the room was being littered with tossed pillows, mattresses and cushions, all discarded in a mess as Y/N and Sam searched for their laptops. “I left our laptops in here,” Sam grunted. “I mean, you guys obviously didn’t” Dean stated back, y/n rolled her eyes at him before continuing to look.

Stripping off her hoodie, her green hair bunched up in a bun. Dean held back a laugh again at the sight as she placed the sunglasses back on her face to cover her eyebrow less eyes. “I mean, these punishments, they’re almost poetic. Actually, it’d be more of a limerick, but still-” Dean muttered as Y/N tossed a pillow angrily at him, knocking him square in his stomach.

“Oww” Dean muttered, holding his stomach as Y/N narrowed her eyes through the lenses of her glasses, giving him another glare. “Okay, hilarious. Ha, ha. Where’d you hide them?” Sam deadpanned at Dean. “What? Your computers?” Dean asked, confused. “Yeah. Where’d you hide them?” Y/N huffed, her fists clenching at her sides. “Why would I take your computers?!” Dean yelled at them.

“Because no one else could have, Dean!” Sam shouted back. “We keep the door locked. We never let any maids in!” Y/N added, “Looks like you lost it then Poindexter” Dean smirked. Her fists clenching tighter at her sides. Her irritation grew as Dean and Sam continued to argue. As Sam ran his tongue along his top teeth, annoyance and anger pumping through his veins.

“Dude, you know something. We put up with a lot from you!” Sam shouted at the two. “What are you talking about? I’m a joy to be around” Dean retorted smugly. “Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink?!” Y/N yelled in a motherly tone, “Your food in the fridge!” Sam added angrily, “What's wrong with my food?” Dean mumbled, furrowing his brows.

“It’s not food anymore, Dean. It’s Darwinism!” Sam retorted, “I like it,” Dean shrugged. “You know, all we ask from you, the one thing, is that you don’t mess with our stuff!!” Y/N growled, her fists clenching at her sides as her nostrils flared. Dean smirked at her, his eyes narrowed in amusement, “You done, She-Hulk?” He quipped.

Y/N was about to say something else when Dean’s nickname for her caught her off guard. She stood there for a moment, blinking furiously as her face began reddening. Her clenched hands trembled at her sides, her fists beginning to turn white from how tightly she was clenching her hands. She could feel the heat rising from the tip of her feet to her head, her face contorting in anger.

“Why you-!” She yelled between clenched teeth as she tried to launch herself at the snarky, smirking hunter. Sam managed to quickly grab her by the sides, holding her back before she could lay a finger on his brother, who honestly, kinda deserved to get his ass kicked for that.

“Whoa!” Sam exclaimed, holding Y/N back by the arms. Grabbing them tightly, holding her arms to her sides as she attempted to break free from his tight grip. “Ugh! I hate you so much!” She snarled at Dean. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, a cocky, irritating, and smug look on his face.

“Right back at ya, She-Hulk” He replied, his smirk not faltering as he continued to taunt her. Her eyes went white, “LET ME GO SAMUEL!! LET ME FUCK THIS SHITHEAD UP!” Y/N struggled in Sam’s grip, his hand was wrapped tightly around her waist. “No can do,” Sam replied firmly, still holding a tight grip on her.

“You might murder him if I let you go” He muttered, struggling to keep her still as she continued to thrash about in his grip. “Uh oh” Sam mumbled when he saw her hands changing color, her fingers twitching as the palms in her hands turned completely blue. He tightened his grip at her waist, “Y/N, stop trying to use your powers!” Sam warned her, his tone firm.

•Present Time

Dean, Y/N, Sam and Jo were all now sitting by the table. Jo and Y/N in the middle while Dean sat next to Y/N and Jo sat next to Sam. Y/N and Dean had their beers in their hands while Jo and Sam placed theirs on the table. “Did you take their computers?” Bobby asked, standing in front of the four young hunters, his hands buried in his pockets.

“Serves ‘em right, but no” Dean mumbled, “Well we didn’t lose it, because we don’t lose things!” Sam defended. “Oh, that’s right, yeah, because they’re Mr. Perfect and Mrs. Perfect” Dean sassed, causing Jo, Sam and Y/N to cringe in disgust. “Okay, okay. Why don’t you just tell me what happened next?” Bobby cut off their squabble.

“There was one more victim,” Dean began. “Right. Now, we didn’t see this one ourselves either.” Y/N added. “Yeah. We kinda put it together from evidence, but this guy, he was, uh..a research scientist. Animal testing” Sam chimed in. “Oh my god” Jo gasped, her heart hurting. “Yeah” Y/N frowned, placing her hand on Jo’s comfortingly.

“Yeah, you know, a dick. Which fits the pattern” Dean added. He then explained how the scientist was found in literal chewed pieces. “Cops didn’t release a cause of death because they had no clue what the cause was” Y/N added, “So, we checked it out ourselves” Sam stated.

•Flashback

Sam, Dean and Y/N snuck into the morgue. Sam stuck his knife between the louvers, pushing the lock aside. After getting it unlocked, the younger Winchester crawled through the window. Y/N followed behind, receiving a helpful boast from Dean. His hands gripped the sides over her hips, lifting her up into the window. She stumbled forward, her foot knocking over a couple of trash cans.

Luckily, she had managed to be quick enough to hold the cans in place before she could make too much noise. Y/N shot a look at the brothers, who were holding back their laughter. “Shut up” She hissed at them before turning on her flashlight.

Dean latched the window as y/n made her way over to the body fridges. Opening one of the chambers to reveal a bin. “This ought to be quick” She mumbled, grimacing as she put her flashlight away. Sam flashed his inwards as she reached in, retrieving the bin.

The bin was heavy as Y/N managed to haul it up, setting it down on a table with a loud thump. The smell of death immediately hit them all as soon as y/n peeled the blood soaked blue sheet the bin. “Bleh!” Y/N exclaimed, struggling not to gag, “Gross” Dean grimaced when they saw the bin was filled with the deceased man’s body parts.

Both Winchester boys groaned in disgust. “Okay. That is just nasty” Dean commented as Sam and Y/N covered their noses, “Uh, yeah” Sam grunted, trying not to puke. “You know, I really hate my life sometimes” Y/N said, trying to hold back the urge to puke as she forced herself to get closer to the chomped on body.

She grimaced as she started examining the body parts, her eyes scanning it as she turned it in different directions, trying to look at all the pieces. Y/N’s lips curled downward as she leaned in, “Looks to me like something was hungry” She stated.

“They identify him yet?” Dean asked, “Yeah, a research assistant at the college” Sam answered, his face contorting in more disgust as Y/N leaned in. “Guess where his office was, by the way,” He added. “Mm?” Y/N hummed in question. “Crawford Hall, same as the professor” Sam stated. “That’s right where the frat boy had his close encounter” Y/N mumbled, her eye zooming in on something familiar that was on the part.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Hey, grab me that thing, would you sweetie?” Y/N said to Dean, pointing to the large magnifying glass. “Yeah, sure, thing,” Dean said as he grabbed the magnifier, handing it to her. Y/N took it mumbling a quick, “Thanks” and looked back into the bin, studying more of the body parts.

The brothers both stood behind her, trying to look over her shoulder, watching intently to see what she was looking at. “What is it?” Sam asked, “See for yourself” She handed him the magnifying glass. “That looks like a…a belly scale?” Sam's brows shot up. “That’s what I was thinking” Y/N agreed.

“A belly scale? From what?” Dean asked, confused and surprised. “Uh…an alligator?” Sam mumbled. “An alligator in the sewer? Come on” Dean scoffed. “What? Well, Dean, it’s a classic urban legend” Y/N defended, pushing her glasses up further. “Yeah, a kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet and it grows huge in the tunnels” Sam agreed.

“Yeah, but no one’s really ever found one. They’re not real” Dean shook his head. “Well, neither is alien abduction but something chomped on this guy” Y/N stated as Dean shook his head in bewilderment again. “This couldn’t get any weirder” Dean grumbled. “Maybe we should get some help. I’ll call Bobby. Maybe he’s run into something like this before” Sam sighed.

“Oh, I’m sure he has. Just your typical fake haunted-campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-a-sewer gig” Dean sassed, causing y/n to snort in amusement.

•Present Time

“We decided to search the sewer anyway. So we split up. Each taking different ends of the campus” Y/N told Bobby and Jo. “Did you find anything?” Jo asked, sipping her beer. “Yeah, I found something. Just not in the sewer” Dean quipped, glaring at Y/N who rolled her eyes again.

Dean’s Version

•Flashback

Dean grunted heavily as he pushed the metal cover for the sewer upwards. Police sirens and the honking of car horns filled his ears as he pushed himself up, crawling out back into civilization.

-

Dean bent the corner to where he parked Baby, his heart sank, anger pumping through his veins when he saw that all her tires were aired out. “Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed as he walked closer, to the side of the back tire, was a pack of Dunhill cigarettes. He reached down and grabbed it, his jaw clenching as he tucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Y/N!!!” He shouted.

-

Sam and Y/N were in his motel room, Sam was reading a book while Y/N laid sprawled out on Dean’s bed. She laid on her stomach, her legs bent so her ankles were crossed as her bare feet remained in the air. The hoodie didn’t help the heat of the day so she was currently in her regular attire, her green hair out in the open but the sunglasses still framed her face.

She was flipping through a Playboy magazine as she hummed along to the song ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ softly. The motel room door opened, both Sam and Y/N’s eyes flickered to it to see Dean, “Find anything?” Y/N asked casually, he narrowed his gaze at her. “You think this is funny?” He growled, slamming the door shut.

“Depends. What?” She asked confused, closing the magazine and sitting up. Dean mumbled sarcastically before shouting, “The car!” As he walked over to her, stopping right in front of her. She tilted her head as she met his cold gaze. “What about the car?” She asked again, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You can’t let the air out of the tires, you idiot. You’re gonna bend the rims!” Dean yelled, “Woah, wait a minute” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head, pushing herself from the bed. “I didn’t go near Baby.” She stated firmly. Sam’s eyebrows snapped together as his eyes darted back and forth between the two. He sat the book down and quickly shot up from his seat.

“Hey, hey, hey, guys, calm down” Sam interjected, holding his hands up. Dean ignored him, “Oh yeah, huh. Then, how’d I find this?” Dean scoffed as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he found next to Baby, holding it up to her face. Her heart sank, quickly checking her pockets before turning back to Dean, who’s back was now facing the bed.

“Hey, give me back my cigarettes” She put her hand out calmly, Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, no. No. Consider it reparations for, uh, emotional trauma” Dean sassed. “You don’t even smoke!” Y/N exclaimed, balling up her fist as Sam walked over to the two, standing in between them. “That’s my last pack too! Now give it back!” She complained again.

Causing Dean to let out another chuckle, his eyes narrowing at her in the process as he stripped his jacket off. Y/N moved around Sam and tried to snatch it away from him before he smacked her arm away gently. “No!” He huffed. She gritted her teeth at him. “First you turn my hair green, shave my eyes off and now you’re blaming me for hurting Baby?!” She scoffed angrily.

“Dean, I have had it up to here with you!” She growled, gesturing to his height with her hand. “Yeah, well right back at you She-Hulk!” Dean shouted back, she scoffed, shaking her head before attempting to snatch it away again before Dean flicked his arm back. Y/N missed again, nearly crashing into Sam. “Damnit Dean, if you don’t give back my cigarettes, I’ll kick your ass!” She threatened, narrowing her gaze.

“Yeah, like you can,” Dean mocked, shaking his head as he smirked widely, finding her amusing. She narrowed her eyes at him again, not God himself could stop her this time. So she jumped him, quickly gripping onto his shoulders as her legs wrapped around his waist.

Attacking the elder Winchester, sending him tumbling backwards into the bed, his back hitting the bed first. Her hands gripped his wrists as she tried to get the pack from him, “Give it to me, you asshat!” Y/N shouted as she pinned his wrists on either side of his head. Dean grunted, his body lying flat against the bed, Y/N now straddling him as he struggled in her grip.

When I imagined her jumping me, this is NOT what I pictured. Dean thought to himself.

“Stop it! Stop it you two!” Sam exclaimed as he snaked his arms around Y/N’s waist, trying to pry her off of Dean. “Just give it to her, Dean!” Sam yelled above the sound of the struggling. “No way!” Dean shouted back firmly, squirming under her. “Get off of me you nutcase!!”

Y/N kept a tight grip on his wrists, her thighs squeezing his hips. She ignored him and Sam’s words as she continued to fight for his grasp, “You’re such a dick, Winchester! Just gimme my damn cigarettes back! I had nothing to do with your car!” She shouted back in his face.

Dean grunted, trying to buck his hips to loosen her grip, but it didn’t work as she only responded by squeezing her thighs tighter around him. Sam still attempted to pry her off but she quickly pushed him away, sending it tumbling next to Dean as they continued wrestling.

He hit the bedframe with a loud, “Oof!” Knocking his head into the wooden frame. “Get Off Me!” Dean shouted in her face as he tried to push himself up from the bed, but found it rather difficult as she continued holding him down by his wrists, “Not until you give me back my last pack of cigarettes, you asshat!” She shouted in his face.

God, I’m mad at her right now, why does she have to smell so good? Dean thought to himself as her face was merely inches from his.

Damnit. He’s so hot, even when he’s being such a pain in the ass. Y/N’s mind said as she found it hard to focus on her task, the smell of his cologne and shampoo filling her nostrils as she straddled him.

•Present Time

“Okay, I’ve heard enough” Bobby cut into their story, already knowing what’s going on as Jo laughed her ass off. “If Sam wasn’t there, she would’ve dragged you dude!” Jo cackled. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Dean grumbled, refusing to look at anyone as if he was embarrassed, which everyone knew that he was.

Sam let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his head besides Jo as Y/N snickered next to Dean. “Anyway, you two showed up about an hour after that” Dean changed the topic, gesturing between Bobby and Jo. “I’m surprised at you kids, I really am” Bobby scoffed like a disappointed parent, “Sam, Y/N. First off, Dean did not steal your computers.” Bobby stated.

“But I- There’s-!” Sam and Y/N tried to defend himself but Bobby put his hand out. “Shhh” He shushed them as Dean grinned triumphantly. “And Dean did not do…that.. to your head or your eyebrows” Bobby turned to Y/N pointing to her hair and sunglasses. “But I-!“ Y/N tried to defend herself again.

“I said shush, young lady” Bobby stopped her again as he pointed a thick finger at Y/N who huffed as she sank back into her chair. “And Dean, Y/N did not touch your car” Bobby stated firmly to Dean, who rolled his eyes. “Yeah!” Y/N scoffed, glaring at Dean. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, boy” Bobby stated to Dean sternly before looking at the three of them again.

“Y’all are family, you need to stop acting like children or I’ll kick all of y’all’s asses, ya understand?” He questioned, staring at the trio until they nodded in unison as Jo tucked her lips into her mouth to stop herself from laughing. “And as for you, Joanna Beth.” Bobby now turned his gaze to Jo.

“Stop encouraging them!” He demanded, pointing at her sternly. “But I just got here!” Jo defended, putting her hands up in surrender. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this one, young lady” Bobby stated firmly before crossing his arms over his chest, causing her mouth to snap shut and her to sink in her seat, mirroring y/n’s actions.

“And if you three bothered to pull your heads out of your asses, it all would’ve been pretty clear” Bobby sassed them all. “What?” Dean raised a confused brow, “What you’re dealing with” Bobby stated as if it’s obvious but they all still looked confused. “Uh…” Sam muttered stumped, “I got nothing” Dean admitted with a grunt. “Me neither” Y/N mumbled, “Amen” Jo agreed.

“You got a trickster on your hands” Bobby revealed, rolling his eyes. Dean snapped his fingers, pointing at the veteran hunter. “That’s what I thought” He chuckled, lying through his teeth. “What? No you didn’t!” Sam, Jo and Y/N yelled in unison, side eyeing the elder Winchester. “Well, I gotta tell ya, you guys were the biggest clue” Bobby snorted, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked. “These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing. And it’s got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can’t even think straight” Bobby explained as realization dawned on them. “The laptop” Sam muttered, “The tires” Dean added, “My hair” Y/N pouted.

“It knows you’re into him. And it’s been playing you three like fiddles” Bobby stated as they all shook their heads in shame. “So, what is it? Wha- can’t be a spirit or a demon. Then what is it?” Jo asked. “Well, more like demigods, really” Bobby sighed, burying his hands in his pockets. All of their eyes popped out of their heads as he continued.

“There’s Loki in Scandinavia, there’s Anansi in West Africa. Dozens of them. They’re immortal and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick.” Bobby further reiterated. “You mean, like an angry spirit or an alien, or an alligator, or…” Dean gestured to y/n’s head. “That” He bit back a chuckle as Y/N glared at him.

Dean cleared his throat, “The victims fit the m.o. too” Bobby nodded. “Tricksters target the high and the mighty. Knock ‘em down a peg, usually with a sense of humor. Deadly pranks, things like that” Bobby added as they all nodded, “Bobby, what do these things look like?” Y/N asked.

“Lots of things, but human mostly” Bobby shrugged, thinking for a second as he paced the room. Realization dawned in Dean and y/n, both sharing a look. “And what human do we know who’s been at ground zero this whole time?” Dean asked knowingly, turning to Sam. His mouth creases into a frown in confusion before it dawned on him also, rolling his eyes.

“That fucking janitor” Sam grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Jo raised her brow at him as Dean and Y/N nodded.

____________________________________________

Later that day, Sam, Jo, Dean and Y/N disguised themselves as electricians again. “Sorry I’m dragging a little ass today, guys” The Trickster apologized as he locked the door to the storage compartment. “I haven’t seen you before” He smiled at Jo. “I’m a trainee” Jo smiled tightly, “Okie-dokie” The Trickster smirked before turning to Y/N.

She still had her sunglasses on but left her hair out in the open, “I like your style, peanut” He smirked at y/n mischievously, gesturing to her hair. “Thanks, a friend of mine chose it” Y/N smiled tightly, gritting her teeth as she glared at the trickster through her glasses.

“You probably had quite the night last night” Jo chimed in, pointing to her neck, indicating the red spot on the Trickster's neck as they walked up the stairs. “Lots of sex, you get it” He winked at Jo over his shoulder, causing her to grimace along with y/n. Sam and Dean mirrored their expressions as they walked behind them up the stairs.

“Yeah, hard not to. Listen, we won’t be long. We just need to check a couple of offices up on three.” Dean chimed in, “No problem” The trickster rolled his eyes, Jo shot Sam a look over her shoulders, indicating to put the plan in action. “Oh, damn, I, uh, forgot something in the truck.” Sam facepalmed himself, “Not again” Jo shook her head, “You know what. We’ll catch up with you guys.” She turned to Dean and Y/N.

“Okay” Dean shrugged as Y/N nodded. The trickster eyed them suspiciously before shrugging, Dean and Y/N following behind him again as Sam and Jo made their way down the stairs.

-

Jo was picking the lock to the storage unit that the trickster was locking up earlier. “Come on” Sam coaxed, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming. “Just give me a damn second” Jo grumbled, fiddling with the lock pick. “Hurry up” Sam urged, “You rushing me is not helping, Sammy. Shut up” Jo shushed him.

This earned an eyeroll from the younger Winchester as he held back the urge to correct her by saying, ‘It’s Sam’ but he let it be, oddly liking her calling him Sammy. The lock finally opened with a click. “See” She smirked, “Now, let’s see if we can find something that can end this bastard” She muttered as Sam nodded.

Sam pushed open the door, cringing at the creaking sound it made as they both stepped into the small storage area. Files and boxes of supplies were stacked along the walls, a few boxes sat in the middle of the room. There were a line of lockers on one side, so Jo immediately started searching through them thoroughly.

Her eyes widened when she found a newspaper labeled, ‘Aliens Abduct Cheerleaders’, she let out a scoff before handing the paper to Sam. Taking the paper out of her hands, Sam scrunched up his face a little as he read the headline. “Wow” He let out jokingly as he shook his head, scanning the article.

-

“Just because he reads the Weekly World News, doesn’t mean he’s our guy” Sam argued as the four hunters made their way down the stairs leading up to the college entrance. “Yeah, I mean. You guys read it too” Jo defended Sam’s point. “We’re telling you, it’s him,” Dean shook his head.

“Look, we just think we need some hard proof. That’s all” Jo protested, gesturing between her and Sam. “Okay, another thing Bobby mentioned was that these suckers have a metabolism like an insect. Alright? A real sweet tooth” Y/N shot back, narrowing her eyes at Jo, crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped closer to her.

“Well, we didn’t find any candy bars or sugar. Not even equal” Sam retorted, “Yeah, that’s probably because you two missed something” Dean rolled his eyes. “We don’t miss things” Sam gritted his teeth. “Oh, right. Because you two at Mr. Perfect and Mrs. Perfect” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head as she chuckled dryly.

“Hey, nobody’s perfect,” Jo admitted, raising her hands in defense. “It's just, you two have a very…violent way of dealing with things” She chuckled as she looked between Y/N and Dean, who rolled his eyes again. “Excuse me, bitch” Y/N growled at Jo, clenching her jaw as the Trickster peered through the windows, having a front row seat of their ‘fight’.

“What did you just call me?” Jo challenged as she stepped closer to Y/N, who mirrored her steps. “You heard me” Y/N snapped as they now stood chest to chest, their faces inches apart as they scowled at each other. “Girls, girls! That's enough!” Sam stepped between them, holding a hand on each chest, pushing them away.

“How can you two still be pissed at me for what the Trickster did?!” Sam scowled at Dean and Y/N. “Oh, come on, man. You've been a tight ass long before that trickster showed up” Dean shot back. “It’s that you’re so damn serious all the time!” Y/N pointed a finger at Sam before crossing her arms once again, narrowing her eyes at him.

“He doesn’t have a stick up his ass, you two just love picking fights!” Jo defended Sam, tiptoeing to shout over Sam’s shoulders, who was using his hand as a barrier to separate the heated women. Y/N threw her head back laughing at this, “Oh, I’m sure you'd like to pull something out of his behind” Y/N retorted as she sneered.

Making Dean choke back a snort of laughter, resulting in Sam turning around and glaring at him instead. Jo feigned a look of rage, attempting to lunge at Y/N, she instantly reacted, attempting to lunge at Jo but both Winchester boys quickly held the girls back.

“Come on, you Sherk looking slut!” Jo shouted, thrashing in Sam’s arms. “Anytime, you skinny-ass skank!” Y/N yelled, jerking in Dean’s arms, trying to wiggle from Dean’s grasp who struggled to keep her in place.

Sam’s body was practically pressed up against Jo’s back, his arms around her as best he could, making him a little flustered while Dean had to bend down, wrapping his arms tightly around Y/N’s waist, his chest against her back. He hated to admit that he felt a little bit of excitement when she squirmed against him.

“Hey, hey, hey! You guys need to chill the hell out!” Sam scolded them, trying to keep Jo from lashing out. His heart was beating out of his chest as Jo’s back was pressed flush against him, he was sure he felt it while Y/N tried to kick, elbow and punch Dean off of her.

“Why don’t you put me down, jackass?!” Y/N yelled over her shoulder, trying to swing a kick behind her to hit him in the shins, but it came across as a weird backward hip jerk, and she let out a snarl in frustration. “Calm. Down. Now.” Dean grunted as he struggled to hold her thrashing body in place, he tapped her hip, indicating that the Trickster was watching and the plan was working.

He shot Sam a quick wink, telling him with his eyes to do the same to Jo. “Hey, relax” Sam murmured to Jo, his breath tickling the back of her ear. A shiver ran down her spine but she fought the urge to melt at that, but this was her signal. Both women calmed down subsequently, sharing a quick sly look before Sam turned back in the act.

“Look, you two just stay here. Keep an eye on the janitor. Well go to his place, see if we can find any actual evidence before you two go bathing in and staking the man!” Sam huffed, trying to remain calm. Dean and Y/N rolled their eyes at this, their arms were still wrapped around the girls however, “Just wait till we get back” Jo spat.

“Yeah, you better come back with something good this time” Y/N added, shooting Sam a challenging glare. Sam rolled his eyes before finally releasing his hold on Jo, gently dragging her away. Dean loosened his grip on Y/N, allowing her to pull herself from his embrace.

The Trickster's gaze remained on Dean and Y/N who made their way into the building, his eyes tracing Sam and Jo, who were hopping into the Impala.

-

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” Jo questioned cautiously, giving Sam a wary glance. “They’ll be fine, angel,” Sam assured her with a small smile before putting the Impala in drive. Jo felt her heart flutter as Sam called her an angel, she tried to fight back the smile that was creeping at the corner of her lips as she ducked her head down as she smiled at his words, hoping he didn’t see how flustered his little nickname for her made her feel.

____________________________________________

It was now nightfall, Dean was pacing outside the building, both growing impatient, still waiting on Sam and Jo to get back as Y/N sat on the stairs, smoking a cigarette. “They’re taking too long” Y/N spoke up, blowing out a thin tendril of smoke. Dean stopped in his tracks, looking down at Y/N, who was sitting on the bottom stair, puffing away.

He sighed and sat down next to her, gesturing for her to pass him the bud. Taking it from her, he placed it between his lips and inhaled the smoke. The tension between them was thick as he let the smoke pass through his lips, trying to ignore the heat of her body so close to him. She glanced over at him, taking a moment taking in his profile, her eyes tracing his face and body before he caught her staring.

“Screw this” Y/N muttered, fixing her sunglasses, running a hand through her green hair before pushing herself up from the stairs. Then grabbing Dean’s hand. He didn’t protest, instead he followed behind her as she dragged him into the building:

-

The two padded down the staircase, flashing their lights down the dark hall, their footsteps heavy on the wooden case. Their lights flashed over the door to the room Sam and Jo investigated earlier. Heading back up the stairs, they huffed in annoyance. Y/N rolled her eyes in frustration as she handed Dean her flashlight.

She took out the wooden stake from her jacket, then suddenly, ‘Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love’ by Barry White started playing from a distance. The two shared a startled look, “The fuck…” Dean muttered. Y/N shrugged before stuffing the stake back into her jacket. They both followed the sound, making sure to glance over their shoulders.

-

The music led them to the college’s auditorium. All the stage lights were shining onto the stage where a round bed was in the middle. Along with two gorgeous, sexy and seductive model looking women laid to the sides. Dressed in red lingerie, shooting lustful gazes at Dean and Y/N. “It doesn’t seem to me like it’s enough” The sensual music blared.

Dean and Y/N shared an inquisitive look as her eyes flicker up to the disco ball and back down to the two women. “What the hell?” She mouthed to Dean as they inched closer, but Dean just shook his head, giving a brief shrug, just as confused as she was.

The two sexy women looked at them, the corners of their lips curled into a smile as they sat up from the bed. “We’ve been waiting for you Dean and Y/N” One of the women purred, both crawling to the edge of the bed. They shared a perplexed look before looking back at the women. Dean turned to Y/N, “Y-you guys aren’t real” He stuttered.

The women’s grins grew wider as they leaned back on their hands, giving the hunters full view of their bodies, “Trust me sugars, it’s gonna feel real” The other woman responded in a sultry tone, warning a nervous chuckle from Dean. A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine as she let her eyes wander over both women, they were very much her type, but they were clearly being set up.

“Come on, sexy. Let us give you a massage” One of the women said in a lustful tone, biting her lip. Y/N chuckled, her eyes lingering over the model’s body. The women didn’t hesitate to drink in Dean and Y/N’s bodies themselves. “Wha..” Dean’s mouth was dry, his eyes flickering back to Y/N as he gulped.

“You know, I’m a sucker for a happy ending. Really, I am but, we’re gonna have to pass” Y/N snorted in amusement, shaking her head as she tore her gazes away from the women, hating the fact that she had to pass. “Even to me?” A deep voice besides the women said, the voice was revealed to be Randy Orton, a long time celebrity crush is y/n.

Y/N did a double take as her breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes widened in shock when she recognized the voice. She bit her inner cheek, holding back the urge to squeal as she tried to keep her cool demeanor intact as her eyes roamed over his shirtless, muscular torso as her heart thrummed in her chest.

Dean’s head snapped towards the man so fast that he almost got whiplash doing so. His green eyes wide as he recognized the celebrity as he swallowed. His gaze darkened as Y/N’s gaping look, “They’re not real, y/n. He’s not real” Dean grunted, his nostrils flaring, that familiar burning feeling rising in his chest again.

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off the man’s body, his muscles flexing perfectly, making her bite her lip as she fought the urge to salivate when her tongue snaked out to lick the corner of her lips.

She felt her knees growing a bit weaker, a warm, fluttery feeling stirring in her lower core. She forced her eyes to look away as she shifted on her feet slightly. “I-I know he’s not real” She muttered breathlessly to Dean. “They’re a peace offering” A familiar voice behind them said, they snapped their heads behind them to see the Trickster sitting in one of the rows nearby.

“I know what you two, your brother and his girlfriend do” The Trickster smirked, tossing his feet up on one of the seats, leaning back into the chair. “I’ve been around a while, run into your kind before” He grinned, “Well, then you know I can’t just let you keep hurting people” Dean quipped back.

“Before we get into that” Y/N snapped, glaring at the Trickster, she snatched off her glasses and pointed to her green head. “Fix.This.Shit.” She demanded firmly. A low chuckle left the Trickster’s lips as he took in Y/N’s appearance. He gave her a once over, eyeing the jeans that hung off her hips, the tight black leather leather jacket layering the red flannel that clung to her chest, with the dark brown top underneath and combat boots.

“Oh I don’t know, you look pretty hot like this, dollface” He chuckled as he looked down at her with a smirk. Tucking his lips into his mouth as he took in the green hair and browless eyes which he caused. “Fix it, dick!” Y/N yelled. The Trickster’s green eyes moved over to her fuming face, he chuckled again as he tilted his head.

His eyes flicked back to Dean, who’s gaze was glued to her. His jaw clenching slightly before he shot a glare at the trickster. He looked back at Y/N with a playful yet mischievous smile, “Ohhh, you’re even hotter when mad. That little catfight was sexy, I must say” He teased. He snapped his fingers.

“There, you’re welcome” He said with a smirk, and just like that, her hair was back to normal, and her eyebrows grew back. Her fingers instantly moved to feel her hair, the familiar shade and texture greeted her touch as she ran her fingers through the strands. Her hand moved to her face as she traced over her now newly returned eyebrows, a sigh of relief left her lips.

Dean’s shoulders sagged with relief as he watched Y/N’s hands move over her face, silently thanking the trickster for restoring her looks. The Trickster winked at her, “Anyway, back to topic. Come on, guys” He groaned. “Those people got what was coming to them. Hoisted on their own petards” He mused, pointing his finger upwards.

“But, you two, Sam and Jo….I like you. I do.” The Trickster smiled, pointing at them, their eyes flickered back to the women and Randy Orton. The Apex Predator shot y/n a sly lustful wink, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. Y/N bit her lip as a small shiver ran down her spine, her cheeks flushed as she felt a tingly sensation spread in the pit of her stomach.

She shifted on her feet again, trying to maintain her composure and not react to Randy, who was still looking very much real and very much half naked. Dean, on the other hand, was starting to grow agitated by the sight of Orton. His jaw clenched again as jealousy seethed through him at the sight of the man looking at her like that.

“So treat yourselves, as long as you want” The Trickster offered in an enticing tone. “Just long enough for me to move on to the next town” He added, pulling a chocolate bar out of his pocket. “Yeah, I don’t think we can let you do that” Dean clicked his tongue, glaring at the trickster. “I don’t wanna hurt you two. And you know that I can” The Trickster shrugged, ripping open the chocolate bar before biting into it.

“Look, man. I gotta tell you, I dig your style. Alright? I mean…” Y/N chuckled, pointing to Orton and the women before letting out a low whistle. Dean rolled his eyes at this, running his tongue along his top teeth. “..I do, I mean, phew. And the slow dancing alien?” She giggled, nudging Dean by his arm to laugh along.

He did exactly that, clutching his stomach as he and the Trickster threw their heads back laughing. “One of my personal favorites. Yeah” The Trickster snorted, fanning himself as he bragged. “But, we can’t let you go,” Dean added calmly. “Too bad. Like I said, I liked you two. Sam and Jo were right, you shouldn’t have come alone” The Trickster smirked, his tone dark.

Dean and Y/N exchange a sly look at this, “Well, I’ll agree with you there, sugarbear” Y/N mused in a mocking sweet tone. The Tricksters smirk flattered when suddenly the doors at the top of the auditorium opened. Revealing Sam and Jo through one door and then Bobby through another. All wielding wooden stakes.

A cocky smirk crept across Y/N’s lips as her eyes watched the look of surprise on the trickster’s face when the other hunters marched closer. Her eyes flicked to Randy Orton and the women, who were still sitting on the bed, watching the scene unfold.

“You were saying?” She teased, tilting her head to the side in a mock gesture. Bobby’s eyes narrowed on the trickster, clutching a shotgun in his arms and a wooden stake resting in his palm. He turned back to Dean and Y/N, looking impressed. “So, that hot catfight you two had, that was a trick?” The Trickster raised his brows at them. Dean and Y/N shrugged as Jo and Y/N shared a sly smile.

“Guilty as charged” Jo snorted, a smug smile spreading across her face as her eyes darted to Y/N. Y/N smirked and gave her a wink back, Jo returned the sly wink to her friend. “Hmm..Not bad” He admitted, nodding impressed at the two women. Meanwhile, Dean had his eyes locked firmly on Randy Orton, his eyes narrowing at him.

He watched the man’s gaze linger over Y/N, as if sizing her up. Y/N then pulled out the wooden stake from her jacket, Dean pulling out his own. “But you wanna see a real trick?” He smirked at them, he snapped his finger and suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw revving started sounding behind Jo and Sam. Startling them both, they turned, eyes wide to see Jason Voorhees, wielding a chainsaw at them.

Sam instinctively tackled Jo out of the way before he could attack them. As Dean and Y/N charge at the Trickster. One of the models held Dean’s hand back as Randy Orton snatched Y/N from around her waist.

Dean grunted, attempting to shake the model off his arm, “Get off!” He yelled, trying to free his arm from her grasp. The model just held him in place, a dark smile playing on her lips as her eyes raked over his body. Y/N writhed in Orton’s grip as he wrapped his large arm around her waist, her back flush against his chest, his chin sitting comfortably on her shoulder.

“When I imagined getting held by you, this is NOT what I pictured!” Y/N grunted, elbowing the wrestler in his nose as Dean got tossed across the auditorium by the model screaming, “AHHHHHH!” The Trickster was in hysterics as he watched the chaos unfold.

Randy grunted in pain as he was jabbed in the nose, “Ow!” He growled as he pulled her tighter against him. Her back flushed against his chest as he hooked his chin over her shoulder. The hunter writhed against his grip, trying to break free. It’s no use, his hands held her in place as if they were made of steel.

Y/N focused her energy in her body, her eyes flashing white as her hands turned that familiar light shade of aqua blue. The Trickster’s eyes widened, “Now, that’s new.” He chuckled.

Meanwhile, Jason attempted to chainsaw massacre Sam and Jo again. Both ducking narrowly, the chainsaw getting driven into the drywall. Bobby rushed over to help Sam and Jo but when he held out his stake, Jason ran his chainsaw through it, cutting it in half.

Randy smirked, catching a glimpse of her glowing hands as he chuckled. He kicked her to the ground, straddling her. Randy straddled her, his knee pinned against hips as he held her wrists against the floor, her legs writhing as she fought against him.

His smirk widened as his eyes raked over her body, pinned helplessly under his solid weight. “You can struggle all you want, darlin” He mocked, his voice deep and sultry, sending a chill down her spine. “Fuck you, Viper” She spat, in a blast, she sent the Apex Predator flying across the room with a wave of her hand and a flick of her head.

“Damn…” The Trickster mused as Randy’s back hit a wall with a heavy thud. A sly smile creeping over her lips at the sight of Randy lying limp against a wall across the room. Her eyes flashed with satisfaction, reverting back to its usual color, she sat up from the ground before rushing over to help Dean who was getting battered and beaten by the two models.

Jason was now after Bobby at the front of the stage, attempting to chainsaw the old man. Sam and Jo shared a look, nodding firmly before both charging at the large killer, spearing their bodies straight into him as Y/N did the same with one of the models.

“Keep. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. HIM!” She punched one of the chicks repeatedly with each word as Dean tried ducking from punches from the other model. But she gripped him and tossed him into the seats, near to the Trickster. “Ha! Nice toss” He cackled, throwing his head back laughing, clapping as Dean grunted in pain.

Sam’s eyes flickered to the stake on the ground next to him. “Dean, Dean, Dean. I did not wanna have to do this- The Trickster mused, standing up but he’s cut short when Sam tossed Dean the stake, the elder Winchester swiftly stabbed the Trickster in his gut. The Trickster stumbled back in pain, his hand clutching the wooden stake protruding from his abdomen, his eyes widening in shock.

“Me neither” Dean smirked as the Trickster wheezed, stumbling to clutch onto one of the seats. Jason was still wielding the chainsaw behind Sam and Jo but he then disapparated into thin air, along with the two models and a limp Randy Orton across the room. Dean grinned darkly as he twisted the stake in his gut.

The Tricksters face contorting with agony, Dean grunted heavily before extracting it back, shoving the now ‘dead trickster’ into the seat. As the Trickster’s body slumped limp in the seat of the auditorium, there was silence. Both brothers, Jo, Bobby and Y/N all stood staring at the now defeated trickster.

Panting, the five hunters all stared in anticipation for a few seconds before Y/N rushed down the stage and spoke up, “Are you okay?” She asked Dean concerned, taking his face into her hands. Running her thumb along the corner of his lip where blood was flowing from.

“Yeaaah, I’m just peachy” he huffed, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Her hands on his face felt like bliss to him as he leaned into her touch, his large hand gently grabbing her wrist to keep her hand there.

Y/N’s concerned eyes roamed over his face for a minute, “You’re bleeding” she mumbled, licking her thumb and gently wiping away the smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth. Sam and Jo shared a tired look at this with a roll of their eyes, “You kids alright?” Bobby spoke up in concern.

“Yeah. I guess” Sam and Jo nodded in unison. “Well, I gotta say, he had style” Dean huffed weakly, groaning from the pain in his back and mouth. Y/N was still tenderly running her thumb over his lip while the others spoke, “Style and taste, yeah” Jo snorted, earning an eye roll from Sam and a grunt from Bobby.

-

“Bobby, Jo, thanks a lot. We couldn’t have-” Sam thanked them as they all rushed out of the building. “Save it. Let’s just get the hell out of Dodge before somebody finds that body” Bobby grunted, waving him off as they rushed over to the Impala. “Look, guys. I just wanna say that I’m uh-” Sam started, his gaze softening as y/n and dean shared a look.

“Hey, me too,” Dean assured him. “Same” Y/N added, offering her best friend a soft smile. Bobby and Jo looked between them annoyed, “You guys are breaking my heart. Could we just leave?” She grumbled, hopping in the back. They all chuckled, the Winchesters hopping into their respective seats as Bobby, Jo and Y/N piled into the back.

As Dean started the Impala and peeled out of the parking lot in a hurry. Y/N wrapped her arm around Jo as the younger girl sat in the middle of her and Bobby. “You’re not really mad at me, are you, skank?” Y/N joked, Jo chuckled at Y/N’s words, nudging her friend’s with her elbow. “Nah, it’s all good, slut” she teased, sticking her tongue out at her.

-

Meanwhile, back in the auditorium, the trickster laid ‘dead’ in the seat where they left him. When the actual Trickster peered over his body, the illusion of his dead body disapparating into thin air as he smirked, biting into a chocolate bar.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

It was a couple days later and the four younger hunters were all hanging out in a local pub in SD. Their usual spot, of course. Sam was on his second drink while Jo and Y/N had lost count, both giggling and sharing old stories. Dean isn't drinking much since he was the designated driver, so he was sipping a beer bottle.

Y/N was lounging next to Dean while Jo resided next to Sam, “I will NEVER forget the first time this one..” She pointed firmly to Sam. “..punched me for the first time in my sleep” Y/N shot a mock glare at Sam as she slurred. “Hey, it was an accident,” Sam grumbled. “You snore and twitch in your sleep” He justified as Jo and Y/N cackled, the latter of the two throwing her head back in laughter.

“It happened MULTIPLE times, Sammy” Y/N exaggerated, rolling her eyes as she finished her beer. “Good luck” She whispered to Jo with a sly wink. “I told you, it’s an accident,” Sam grumbled again, rolling his eyes. “You’re really not helping yourself, dude” Jo cackled, patting his cheek.

Dean shook his head in amusement at their antics, a smirk playing on his lips before he raised the beer bottle to his lips. His eyes flicked to Y/N, who was pressed up next to him. “I gotta pee” Jo announced, pushing herself up from the booth, wobbling slightly. Sam held out his hands instinctively, incase she fell over.

“I’ll go with you” Y/N grinned, standing up from her seat beside Dean, almost losing her balance and tripping over her own feet. Dean did the same, holding out his hands instinctively incase she fell. She snickered at herself, her face flushed as her limbs felt like jelly.

Both girls held onto each other, wobbling slightly. “You two alright?” Sam snorted at the sight of their unstable feet. Y/N shot him a lazy middle finger in response, “We’re fineeeee” she slurred, staggering towards the restrooms with Jo, linking arms with the blonde, practically using each other as crutches.

Once they got into the restroom, the girls stumbled over the sink counter, Y/N bracing her hands on it to stop herself collapsing and Jo gripping the counter to pull herself up onto it. “Damn, how much did we even have?” Y/N laughed, bracing herself against the counter.

“I dunno man, I lost count like an hour ago” Jo snickered, looking into the mirror before making her way into the empty stall. Y/N giggled, glancing at her own reflection. “We look like a hot mess” The h/c haired hunter chuckled, running her fingers through the mess.

“We look hot, period” Jo called from the stall as Y/N continued to admire her reflection. “Amen, sister” She drunkenly pumped her fist into the air. The blonde reappeared a minute later, stumbling over to the other sink to wash her hands.

Y/N was still admiring herself in the mirror, fixing her hair when she glanced over at Jo, a smirk playing on her lips. “Hey, y/n. We’re friends right?” Jo started. Y/N snickered at the other girl’s drunken question. She turned to face her friend, leaning against the counter. “Of course, we’re friends” she chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Then as your friend, I gotta ask. What’s taking you and dean so long?” Jo slurred, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised a brow, leaning against the cold tiled wall. Y/N’s face flushed a darker shade of red, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. “I- what?” She stuttered, turning back to face the mirror, trying to avoid Jo’s gaze, as she feigned fiddling with her hair.

“I should ask you the same about you and Sam” Y/N shot back slyly. This time, it was Jo’s turn to go red in the cheeks. She stuttered for a moment, trying (and failing) to find the right words before throwing her hands up, “Yeah, yeah. You got me…” she grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Seriously though, dude”

Y/N signed deeply before giving Jo the rundown about the past few months. Jo listened intently as Y/N explained the whole situation, her alcohol clouded brain trying it’s best to keep up with her drunk friend’s story. Jo listened intently, taking it all in without a word.

She nodded when Y/N finished, placing a hand on her shoulder with a serious expression on her face. “Girl, you both are idiots” she announced firmly. Y/N raised a brow, raising a hand to her chest in mock offense, “Excuse me?” She demanded, but a sly smile crept onto her lips.

"Whatever, we're friends and it's remaining like that. I'd rather have him in my life as a friend than not have him at all" She admitted drunkenly. "Yeah, yeah. But have you like... thought about dating him?" Jo pushed, the alcohol loosening her tongue with her judgement and thoughts slipping.

“Trust me sweetie. Dean is not the dating type” Y/N snorted, tucking a blonde lock of Jo’s hair behind her ear. “I guess, neither am I” She shrugged, wrapping her arm around her waist. “Thanks for listening, man”

“That’s fair,” she hummed with a nod, leaning into Y/N’s touch. “No worries, dude” she chuckled, resting her head on the other girl’s shoulder. Jo smiled softly, the alcohol making her feel slightly more vulnerable and emotional. She chuckled, wrapping her own arm around her friend.

“Come here” Jo whispered, pulling the hunter into a tight squeeze. Tears welled up in both of their eyes as they spontaneously burst into tears, the alcohol fully absorbing their emotions.

Both girls stood in the middle of the dingy bathroom holding each other tightly, sniffling and crying over nothing in particular. “God… I love you” Y/N sobbed, burying her face into Jo’s neck, tears staining the fabric of her shirt.

“I love you too, idiot” Jo sniffled, tightening her hold on her friend, burying her own face in Y/N’s shoulder. The two girls were so drunk at that moment, they’d started crying at the mere thought of not having each other.

“What the fuck is wrong with us?!” Y/N sniffled and laughed into the hug before pulling away. There was laughter in both of their voices as they laughed through the tears, “I don’t know!!!” Jo chuckled, wiping away the tears that had smeared her mascara. They were both a mess at this point, but they didn’t care.

Both girls were slightly clingy at that moment. Jo grabbed the crook of Y/N’s elbow, linking them together. “Come on, let’s go back to the boys, before they think we’re dead and send out a search party,” She teased.

-

Meanwhile, the Winchester boys outside, “Jesus, how long does it take to pee?” Sam mused, glancing over in the direction where the girls had disappeared to. “Forever, probably” Dean joked, finishing the rest of his beer.

“I wouldn’t be shocked if they’d both fallen in,” Sam added with a smirk. The jukebox started playing ‘Genie In A Bottle’ by Christina Agulliera second before the older hunter snickered at his brother’s words.

Both women emerged from the bathroom, instantly into the song as it played. They made their way to the crowded dance floor as it was a late Friday night and it was crawling with people. They stumbled their way onto the dancefloor, both giggling again at their own efforts trying not to fall over in their drunken state.

The majority of the people there were couples dancing closely together, but Y/N and Jo didn’t give two shits. Jo began swaying her hips to the flow of the beat, her hand gripping Y/N’s wrist as she began flailing her arms around. Y/N chuckled at her friend’s efforts, copying her exaggerated dance style as they stumbled around and bumped into several people.

The Winchester brothers' eyes landed on the pair, Dean looked amused, watching Y/N dance like that from a distance, his emerald eyes sparkling as the corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. “Jesus, they look like they’re two seconds away from falling over” Sam huffed in amusement, covering his mouth while also looking over at the girls dancing amongst the other couples.

“This is pretty entertaining” Dean snickered, leaning back in his seat as he glanced in the direction of the girls on the dance floor. He watched Y/N swaying her hips to the music, tripping over her feet and swaying like a newborn fawn. It was honestly cute to him.

His eyes traced down to her lower back, that sinful anti possession tattoo peeking out from the bottom of her shirt. He cleared his throat, shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts as Sam’s eyes remained on Jo.

“Your eyes gonna stay stuck like that if you keep staring” Dean teased, noticing the way Sam was ogling at the younger girl from a distance. Sam snapped out of his daze and tore his gaze away, a blush creeping up on his neck.

“Shut up, dick” he grumbled, chugging his beer. “Dude, why don’t you ask her out already?” Dean pressed, arching his eyebrow slightly at his younger brother. Sam’s blush deepened at the question, “We’re friends, that would be weird” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“You both very clearly like each other, it’s not rocket science Sammy” Dean pointed out bluntly, sipping his beer as he glanced back at the girls on the dance floor again. “You like her, just ask her out” he encouraged and gave Sam a slight nudge.

“Take your own damn advice, dude” Sam shot back at Dean with a roll of his eyes. Dean’s head snapped back to look at his cheeky brother, “Shut up” he hissed, his freckled nose and cheeks slightly flushed, though thankfully it was covered by the dim lighting.

____________________________________________

Author's Note: Hi beauties! I hope you guys liked my interpretation of this episode🥰

The part with Jo and Y/N in the bathroom is based on my own real drunken experiences with my best friends so I hope everyone liked that!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2

Xoxo

[jimothy-hopkins]

This is another one of my many precious Bully ocs, Alice. She’s the sweetest fr. (Also easiest to draw)

Info about Alice!

General Description:

Alice is average height with an athletic, but delicate build. She has short, bleached blonde hair and greens eyes. She is in the paler side, and tends to get burned when she makes any attempt to tan. Alice walks with a straight posture, but tends to be fidgety when still.

Unlike many of her fellow preps, Alice is incredibly kind. She is known to be generous, and gives to those in need whenever she can. She is aware of her privilege and tries to use it to improve the lives of others rather than just take it for herself. As nice as Alice is, she is naive and often gets taken advantage of. She tends to struggle with anxiety as a result from the pressure of those around her.

Interests and whatnot:

Alice is very interested in charity and philanthropy, much like her parents. She attends various events and even starts her own fundraisers for certain causes. Wether that be school bake sales to help the art and theatre department, or going to large charity events to put money towards hospitals and whatnot.

Aside from charity, Alice is also an environmentalist and an animal rights activist. She does her best to improve natural habitats of animals and donates to rescues and shelters so that they have more capacity and care for animals.

One of Alice’s biggest interests is figure skating. Alice started skating at a young age, and has developed a natural talent for it. Skating brings her into a relaxed, but determined state of mind. It is her passion. It is what she is best at. She is deemed a prodigy.

Reputation:

Due to her interest in figure skating and regular fitness routine, Alice is admired by the jocks. She doesn’t cause issues for them, since she is usually very kind.

The greasers hate Alice by association. Alice doesn’t blame them at all- if the shoe was on the other foot she would hate the preps as well. She understands their point of view and does her best to avoid them.

The preps don’t respect her as much as she would like. She really only hangs around the clique because that was where she was initially accepted. They often think she’s childish and silly for starting charities and donating money. She is also in competition with her fellow preps across academics and sports. Their expectations weigh heavy on Alice.

Alice is in very good standing with the bullies. She is dating one of their clique members. (This member is a separate oc of mine, her name is Angelina. I’ll make her ref soon I promise guys.) The pair are quite open about their relationship. Alice and Angelina spend a lot of time with one another.

Alice is straight up afraid of the nerds. She’s heard all about Earnest and wants NOTHING to do with that crowd. If she absolutely had to be by their hangout spots, Alice brings her girlfriend with her to make sure they won’t bother her.

Quotes:

“If money is the root of all evil, I want to try and use mine for good things.”

“Sorry, I have a date with Angelina, cya later!”

“I can’t stand the way they talk about poor people! Just because they don’t have a trust fund doesn’t mean they should be treated that way.”

“One day I’ll skate at the Olympics.”

“Do you need anything? I’m happy to help!”

“Oh, I don’t have a five. Is a hundred okay for you? Here, take it.”

“Derby PAID someone for that ACT score. He’s not that smart.”

“I just feel like I’m a complete failure! They all hate me I don’t know what to do!”

“Snowball fight!”

“Promise you’ll be a real friend, please?”

“I can’t tell if Derby is just born that way or if he’s had plastic surgery. He doesn’t even look real.”

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.

It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.

There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.

“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.  

Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.

Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.

“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.

“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.

“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.

“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”

“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”

“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.

“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”

“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.

“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”

“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”

“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.

“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.

“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.

“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.

The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.

“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.

Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.

Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”

“I can’t leave my post.”

“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”

“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”

“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”

Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.

“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”

“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.

“It’s Aliit.”

“Aliit…and?”

“Oh, ad’ika.”

Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”

“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.

“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The ringing lasts well into the night.

When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.

She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.

The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.  

She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.

She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.

“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.

“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”

“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.

Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.

“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.

“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.

She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.

“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”

“Of course, Princess San.”

“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.

“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”

“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”

Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.

It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.

But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast.  The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.

Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.

Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.

“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing.  San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.

“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.

It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.

“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”

“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”

“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”

“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”

“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.

“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.

Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.

Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.

Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.

Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.

Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.

 “Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.

“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.

“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.

“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.

“I think…he would like that.”

“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”

“He’d like that too.”

“And you?”

His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.

“I’d like that very much.”

You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.

“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.

“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”

“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.

Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.

“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.

“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.

“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”

“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.

“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.

“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.

“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”

Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.

“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, that’s not nece-“

“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.

Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.

Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.

You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.

Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.

But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.

The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.

Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.

Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.

Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.

“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.

Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.

“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”

“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.

“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.

“Oh!”

“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.

“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.

“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.

“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“

“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Yes, s-sir.”

“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.

Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.

He delivered one last command over his shoulder.

“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”

The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.

Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.

You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.

You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.

The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.

Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.

You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.

It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.

The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days. 

You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.

“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.

“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”

“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.

You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.

And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.

“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”

His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.

“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”  

You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.

“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?

“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.

“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.

“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.

“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.

“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“

“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.

“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.

“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”

“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”

Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.

“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”

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[minihotdog]

Stay a Wee Longer

Pairing: Soap x Medic!OC (Sergeant Lynn)

Summary: Soap ends up needing to be stitched up and is happy that the person doing it is so purdy

a/n: I actually like this fic ngl

c/w: poor understanding of medicine and the medical field, blood, wounds, mentions of dropping babies, saying too damn much while high off pain meds, a cutie patootie so cute it makes me wanna explode, too much smiling.

Word Count: 1k

***

You raced down the hallways of the small med bay alongside the medic you were turning over as he filled you in on the current influx of patients.

“We just got a wave of task force in the bay. You know what that means.” Reed sings at the end of his statement. 

“Trouble.” Your words are dry, already exhausted from imagining the day ahead. “Yes, ma’am!” He exclaims in agreement.

When the task force was back in town it meant everyone had their work cut out for them. All sorts of injuries would come through, many needing immediate care.

“Your first patient is Sergeant Mactavish. Ooooh, he’s cute.” Reed gasps, peaking at the patient chart before handing the clipboard to you. “You should really make a move.”

“What’s wrong with him?” You ignore his remark. 

Reed rolls his eyes at your attempt to deflect. 

“Laceration, Left pectoral muscle. Bleeding is minimal, large improvement from earlier.”

“Yeah, rog.” 

“If you don’t make a move on him then I will. Give me his file back.” He says while faking taking the clipboard from you desperately.

“Reed! I swear!” You finally break, smirking at your friend. He laughs before you both head in opposite directions.

You reach an unmarked door, a room reserved for more secretive guests. You knock before entering and greet an apprentice cleaning up a mess of bloody gauze.

“Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

The apprentice nods and leaves. You feel a pair of eyes on you while taking another peek at the patient’s chart before speaking. 

“Hello, Sergeant Mactavish, how are you this morning?” You brace for a sarcastic or angry response only to be met with a genuine “Oh, I'm quite lovely.”

Your eyes dart from the chart to him in surprise. His baby blues staring back at you. You’d ask patients how they were, even when they were obviously in pain, it allowed you to gauge how well they may cooperate during the treatment. Usually, the response would be along the lines of “fuck off” or “what do you think?” Yet here he sat with a slight smile tugging at one side of his lips and a dazed look.

“What’s yer name, bonnie?” His eyes were tired, dark circles clung to them as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. 

“I’m Sergeant Lynn. I’ll be tending to you today.” 

He gives you a proper smile, his eyes nearly closing in the process,

“Good tae meet ye, Sergeant Lynn.”

You notice the scar on his chin and recall his lengthy medical history in the chart,

“You sure do get hurt a lot, don’t you?”

He continues grinning, “Aye, I’m awfully good at that.”

You take a seat on the rolling chair next to the hospital bed where he lies. Your eyes give him a once over looking for any other obvious injuries. He’s lying shirtless, his camo pants splotched with blood here and there. He has a small patch of chest hair and a Scottish flag tattooed over his heart, and old scars litter his torso and arms. Your cheeks felt warm at the sight of his physique, it was obvious that this man loved the gym as much as life itself.

You mentally tell yourself to keep it together as you put your gloves on and begin removing the bloody bandage placed on his chest to help stop any bleeding he still had. His wound still oozes out a slow stream of blood traveling down his chest and slowing at his abdomen. You wipe up the blood with gauze, feeling his muscles contract under your touch. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s bleeding, his gaze fixated on you.

“I’m happy yer the one lookin’  after me today.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” You glance up at him quickly before continuing to examine the wound and its depth.

“Yer the most beautiful woman I’ve set eyes on in a long time. And I’m no sayin’ that ‘cause I’ve been starin’ at ma teammate’s ugly mug fir months.” His words occasionally blend together in a messy slur.

You felt a little embarrassed by his compliment. It wasn’t the most appropriate time for you to be receiving one. He was bleeding, wounded, and your eyes trying so desperately to not gawk at his bare chest or stare back into his captivating eyes.

“Thank you, sergeant. I assume the pain medication you’ve been given is working well.”

“Ye assumed correctly, but I still hae some discomfort.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, I’ll up the dose for you.” You quickly reach over him turning a dial on his dropper, the liquid beginning to drop more frequently. Soap notices your sweet-smelling perfume at the brief proximity and he lets his head drop back on the bed, eyes shut trying to savor it. The cool liquid entering his arm through an IV causes him to sigh and you assume he’s feeling the effects of the medication a little more, relaxing even further into the bed but once again he looks at you, this time with the softest eyes making your heart jump at the sight.

“Could you state your name and date of birth for me? Gotta ask before I do anything.”

“As ye wish. John Mactavish, January 12, 1996.”

You thank him quietly and continue trying to clean his wound and stop the little bleeding that is still present.

“A winter baby, huh? I heard they’re the happiest little things.”

“Aye? Where did ye hear that?”

You toss the used gauze into a small bin on your work table. “It’s an old wives tale.” Your lips form a downturned smile. “I used to deliver babies. The old midwives always had the darndest things to say.”

He chuckles sweetly, “Ah wonder if it’s true.”

“Me too. Unfortunately. I only saw the babies when they were born. Never got the chance to catch up.” You find yourself chuckling alongside him. You were certain a tint of pink had found its place on your cheeks. 

“It must be a wonderful experience tae see the birth o’ a wean.”

You pause looking up at him with your eyebrows raised. He recognizes the look he gets almost daily from his teammates and translates, “A baby.”

You grab your suture and begin stitching the wound shut.

“It is. Sometimes it feels like a game of Russian Roulette, sometimes you get an easy delivery.” Your lip twitches downward, “Other times it all goes to shit. You don’t know what to expect, but with time it becomes a sixth sense.” You dab his wound with some gauze before continuing. “Most people don’t realize how hard birth actually is, or the risks. People think it’s easy because you might have the organs for it, but it often doesn’t go as planned.”

He listens to you attentively, his eyes go from the ceiling to you and back to the ceiling.

“Why did ye leave that work? Ye sound passionate.”

“Well, you can only drop so many babies before they send you running for the hills.” You joke, hoping he picks up on it instead of believing you were some serial baby dropper. His laughter fills the small room, the sound almost boyish but laced with the deep bass of his voice. You can tell he probably needed a laugh after the pain he’d endured. 

“Ye hae a great sense o’ humour, sergeant.” His laughter dies down and he looks at you for the thousandth time. “Seriously, why did ye stop?”

You sigh, “I wanted a little more… Pizzazz?” The word sounded more like a question, you weren’t sure if it truly explained how you felt.

“…Pizzazz?” He repeats with a snicker falling from his lips. He tilts his head at you, his eyebrows raised in amusement. You look up at him with a spark in your eye that he can’t explain. “I wanted more chaos, more variety, heart-pounding work.”

“Hmm.” In a way he understood.

“When I woke up this morning, I had no idea what I’d be doing. Here I am stitching up a handsome Scotsman and tomorrow…” You shrug, “Maybe a rookie will come in with their fingers in an ice chest after a Roman candle fight. Who knows?”

He chortles, partially from you calling him handsome and from remembering his days of being a mentor to the rookies of his old unit before the SAS and Task Force. He’d received countless phone calls in the dead of night being informed that his troops were out raising hell. A rookie’s life was hell, but without responsibility, the blame would fall on whatever poor soul was listed as their supervisor. 

“That mean ye work well under stress?”

“Something like that.” Your words trail off focusing a little harder on the intricate parts of the stitch. “What made you want your crazy-ass job?”

“The adrenaline is mental, but I get tae do something rewardin’. I’m proud tae protect folk, even frae dangers they dinnae know exist.” He hisses slightly at the end of his sentence. You stop, waiting for him to recuperate. He gives you a reassuring look before you continue. “What made ye wan’ tae be a medic?”

“I like helping people, even if they fight back half the time.” You go quiet for a few seconds. “Also, some rotten girl I went to school with said she wanted to be one as well and I said I could do it better.”

“Haha, ye seem like the competitive type.” His tongue darts out to wet his chapped lips. Your eyes retreat back to his chest, and you chew on your lip trying to calm yourself. 

“I’m sure ye’d kick her arse at this a thoosand times o’er. I can see ye pit a lot o’ love intae yer work.”

“I do what I can.” You wink at him playfully. It was now his turn to blush, he was thankful that the scruff he’d grown the last two days was there to camouflage it. Cannae let a bonnie lassie see ye like this, John

“Alright, Sergeant Mactavish. You’re all stitched up and ready to go. Please take it easy until it heals. And please no Roman candle fights.” You warn while placing your tools on the small table to your side. 

He laughs heartily, “Thae days are long behind me.”

“I’ll have an apprentice come to take out your IV and if you have an escort you can leave immediately.”

“Thank ye. I suppose it’s better tae be safe than sorry. Even though I reckon I could handle it.” His large hand comes up to scratch his scruff. His bicep contracts in what he thinks is a natural movement. You mentally roll your eyes at his innocent peacocking. If he hadn’t been so delightful, you’d have written him off as another sweet-talking womanizer you’d encountered from the special forces. 

“Maybe you would manage just fine but every precaution comes about because the unthinkable has happened.” You clean up your station, disposing of your gloves. 

“Do you need anything before I leave?”

“Tae be honest, I’d like if ye stayed a wee bit longer and humored a poor injured man.”

You shake your head at him with a smirk. Your pager cuts you off before you have a chance to respond. “I’d love to stay but I have to run.” You take out a notepad, scribble on it and hand it to him. Your soft hands graze his calloused ones. “Here you go, darlin’.” You shoot him a smile and he gladly returns one before you scurry off leaving him alone in the room. He looks at the piece of paper realizing you’d given him your phone number. A big smile spreads on his face, red finally peeking out from behind his facial hair. Oh, Johnny lad ye hae ootwitted yersel!

[ash5monster01]

Hey lovely writer,

just stumbled across your rooster fic. Are you up for a request concerning Bradley Bradshaw or Jake Seresin and a fem reader or oc. Some sick/hurt reader fic and protective boys?

Lot's of love 💗

Overprotective

Pairing: Rooster x Hangman x FemReader (platonic, romance can be implied)

Warnings: mentions on injury, angst, worry

Summary: Rooster and Hangman never get along, not even for your sake. Didn’t matter they were both your best friend, they didn’t agree on being friends with each other. That is until you get hurt. (I couldn’t decide on just one of the boys so here’s a short little blurb where they are both worried for your safety)

Masterlist

Rooster and Hangman didn’t agree on many things. Most of the time they butt heads, made snarky remarks at the other, and competed until they were bone tired. The only thing they did agree on was you. Having known Rooster from childhood, and being best friends with Hangman through flight school, you found you loved them both equally. It just sucked that they couldn’t learn to love each other as well, for you.

Instead they’d compete over who was closer, Rooster always pulling the known you longer card, and Hangman pulling the being a better pilot than him to back it. You didn’t mind, your friendships with each were very different. You were still young with Rooster, him knowing every version of you. With Hangman it was more lighthearted, like old college pals you drank too much with. You didn’t need them to be close because they both understood versions of you the other didn’t. The only thing about their relationships with you being the same is how much they cared for you.

So during flight practice, when your plane malfunctioned, they were officially a team. The only person who can be on your side when you’re watching a plane with your friend plummet to the ground, is the person who cares for them just like you do. Rooster and Hangman had no jabs to shoot at each other while they rushed to get information. You had pulled your chute, but not without hitting your leg on the canopy on your way out.

“Shit Y/N” Rooster cursed as they rushed across the runway where paramedics were setting you in a stretcher. Your leg was visibly broken, probably a few bruised ribs from the way you winced, and a scrape across the side of your face.

“Are you okay?” Hangman asked as they finally reached your side, the paramedics ready to take you away.

“Could be worse” you quipped, usual banter coming from you. “Told me I got a good scrape through the brow. Might be able to pull off one of those cool split eyebrow looks. Whaddaya think?”

“You could pull anything off” Rooster told you, forcing away tears now that you were okay and in his sight. If he lost you the same way he did his Dad, he didn’t think he’d ever recover.

“You might think different once it actually heals” you grinned but then winced as the stretcher moved. “You boys don’t go having a heart attack now”

“Easier said then done” Hangman said as he squeezed your hand and you chuckled as they finally lifted you into the ambulance.

“I’ll see you on the other side” you saluted as they shut the door on your two pilot best friends. Rooster and Hangman watched still on edge as they pulled out, ready to tend to your wounds.

By the time they reached the hospital you were already in surgery. They hadn’t shared any words as they sat and worried for your safety. At least they could breathe knowing you survived but you still had to heal and the idea of you hurt was worthy enough to be worried about.

“She’ll be okay” Rooster finally broke the silence and Hangman looked up at him from his hunched position in the waiting room.

“I know, she just gave me quite the scare” he didn’t like the idea of being vulnerable with his competition but he knew he felt the same way.

“Me too, and only Y/N could continue to make jokes as she’s being rushed to the hospital” Rooster said and Hangman chuckled.

“We’re real lucky to have her, probably drives her nuts that we can’t get along” Hangman told him, sitting upright from his hunched position.

“I think she secretly enjoys it” Rooster responded and Hangman laughed again.

“We should mess with her and pretend we’re best friends after this” Hangman suggested and Rooster smirked. Hangman didn’t have many idea she agreed with but he kind of liked this one.

“She’d probably think she had a brain injury” He said and Hangman for a moment thought he wouldn’t agree. “Let’s do it” the two boys laughed as they clapped hands in agreement.

“Man I can’t believe she deals with us” Hangman said as he shook his head and Rooster shrugged.

“Let’s just be glad she even likes us”

[jerzwriter]

The Big ONE

Happy Birthday to little Samantha, who turned one on April 20th!

I asked @/artbyainna (IG) to help create artwork to commemorate the special occasion, and I'm simply squealing at the results! While Tobias and Casey are captivated with their little angel, Pietro is all too happy to jump in and get a bit of that cake he's been eyeing all afternoon! I'm just blown away by this!

I wrote a fic highlighting a few moments during Sammy's big day below. I hope you enjoy the sugary sweetness as much as I do!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Characters: Vivian Carrick (F!OC), Jordan Carrick (M!OC), Rose and David MacTavish (OCs), the OH gang, and of course, Pietro - the original cat. Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 A/N: @choicesaprilchallenge24 / Kitchen Table

Standing at her kitchen sink didn't typically usher in so much joy, but then, today wasn't any ordinary day. Casey's heart was full as she peered out the kitchen window into her backyard. It was tiny by suburban standards, but in Boston, it may as well have been an acre. The storms that had been forecasted earlier in the week held off, and the bright sun and azure blue skies provided the perfect canopy for their guests who came to celebrate.

The telltale rattle of the backdoor handle interrupted the silence, and Casey turned to find her husband coming inside. He looked so gorgeous in the fitted pink shirt he bought just for this occasion that she didn't initially catch his expression. Was it bewilderment? Vexation? She couldn't quite make it out.

He reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Sam Adams. Popping the cap off, he leaned against the counter and shook his head.

"I can't believe there's a freaking petting zoo in my yard."

Casey chuckled as she closed the distance between them, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as her arms encircled his waist.

"It’s not like you weren’t warned... albeit inadvertently.”

“Still...” he sighed.

“You know, from what I’ve heard, this place was a perpetual petting zoo in the past. Of course, it wasn’t the G-rated type, but even so... this shouldn't be so foreign to you.”

She closed her eyes and pressed closer against him, relishing the way his chest reverberated against her as he laughed.

“While the stories of my past can be a bit on the wild side, they tend to be overexaggerated, my dear.”  

Casey squeezed him tighter. “I can’t believe our baby girl is a year old already.”

“I know,” Tobias replied with amazement. “It all went by in a flash.”

“It did,” Casey agreed. “Although, some of the nights felt like they lasted an eternity. Especially in the beginning. God, sometimes I didn’t think I’d survive.”

“You?” Tobias marveled. “No way! You had the whole motherhood thing down pat from the start. You're a natural, babe.”

“A natural?” She laughed. “Are you kidding me? From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was a hyperventilating mess!" Her hands rubbed along the silky fabric covering his chest, and her voice filled with emotion. “If not for your bright outlook and constant support, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. You’re my rock, T.”

The tender moment was interrupted when the door handle rattled again, and several of their friends stepped inside.

“Jesus!” Jackie groaned. “Do you two ever stop with that lovey-dovey shit?”

“Aw! Leave them alone!” Sienna smiled. “I think they’re adorable.”

“I might be more accepting of that adorable title if it was any random day,” Bryce interjected. “But what the hell are you doing inside with this kissy face crap when you have a freaking petting zoo and bouncy house in your yard?”

“Yeah,” Tobias chuckled. “Ma didn’t read the memo when we said we wanted a simple party with our friends."

“She also didn’t get that none of our friends have children, and Sammy’s too young for friends of her own... I don’t know that we needed all this.”

“Are you kidding?” Bryce gasped in horror. Vivian is a goddess! I’ve been in the bouncy house for the past hour, and that little wallaby out there is now my best friend. You two really need to come out.”

“Oh, I will so be in the bouncy house before this day is over!” Casey enthused.

“And I’ll be there to gleefully record every second,” Tobias winked. “But we’re going to set up to have the cake in here now.”

A peal of laughter wafted in through the open window, and everyone looked outside to see Sammy flying through the air—her face aglow as she giggled with abandon.

“Give her back to me!” Tobias’s brother, Jordan, insisted as Ethan swung the little one around again.

“Sorry,” Ethan responded. “She’s made her position clear. I’m her favorite uncle. You’ll just have to acclimate to being number two, Jordan.”

“Number two,” Bryce blurted as he was about to stick his hand into the nacho dip. “He’s not number two! And Ethan’s not number one! Sorry guys, I have to get out there and reclaim my ground!”

Jackie heaved out a sigh. “I suppose I should go supervise the children.”

“And I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone,” Sienna said, quick on her friend's heels.

Tobias slid behind Casey, wrapping his strong arms around her as they watched the joyful scene unfolding outside.

“Oh, no! Our parents are getting in on this now,” Casey observed as Tobias kissed her shoulder. “We better go retrieve Sammy before she's more spoiled than she is already."

"Nah," Tobias declined. "She's in very good hands, and I want just one more moment alone with my beautiful wife."

Casey turned around in Tobias's arms and gently kissed him, but he turned that little kiss into one with decidedly more passion.

"Keep that up, and we'll end up with baby number two," she giggled.

"Damn, she's on to my plan," he winked.

~~~~

A short time later, the circus had moved inside as the guests crowded into the family's living room to open gifts.

“I was told we were coming inside for cake,” Bryce pouted. 

Vivian, seated next to him, promptly slapped his knee.

“OW!”

“It’s presents before cake, Lahela. Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t think Sammy would mind either way,” he replied but acquiesced when he saw how happy the little girl was ripping into the gift wrap on her presents.

“Look!” Sienna said, tapping Casey’s Mom, Rose, on the shoulder. “She loves the stuffed pony you got her!”

“She does,” Rose beamed. “Although Grandma Vivian supplied the real pony in the yard!”

“Yeah,” Casey’s father, David, laughed. “We’ll have to up our game next year, hon. Vivian here is stealing our thunder.”

“NO!” Tobias and Casey yelled in unison.

“Don’t worry,” Tobias insisted. “My mother is going to be banished from next year’s celebration! We can have some normalcy.”

“Like hell I will be!” she spat as Jordan roared with laughter.

“Please, you have a better chance of Derek Jeter being elected mayor of Boston than you do of Ma missing any of Sammy’s birthdays.”

“That’s right! This fool made me wait almost four decades to be a grandma, I'm not missing any of it now!"

Tobias wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and squeezed her close. “I know you wouldn’t, Ma. And we wouldn't want you to, but... can we celebrate without so many animals next year?”

“I don’t know,” Vivian smirked. “I think it would be wrong not to include your friends.”

~~~~~

A pile of opened gifts sat stacked neatly in the corner as little Pietro played happily with the bits of colorful gift wrap that remained taped to the boxes. But the cat wasn’t the only one excited; after all, it was finally time for CAKE!

“Casey, you look great!” Jordan stated. “But, Tobias, I need you to move a bit to the right.”

“For God's sake,” Tobias groused. “Can you just take the picture already?"

“Can we start singing?” Vivian asked. "I want to sing to my grandbaby."

“As soon as I get this picture,” Jordan replied. “All right! Casey, Tobias... perfect! Now, everyone, help me get Sammy to look this way.”

Everyone gathered behind Jordan, making faces, clapping their hands, and doing all they could to get the precious little girl to look their way. But Sammy only had eyes for one thing... the fluffy pink birthday cake that was just outside of her reach. That is until her feline best friend hopped on the table, stealing her attention and leaving her squealing with delight.

Casey lifted him, placing him gently back on the floor. “Not on the table, Pietro.”

“Yeah!” Jackie replied smugly. “No cake for you.”

The cat hissed at his nemesis as the clamoring to get Sammy to look at the camera continued.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Tobias bewailed. “Can you just take the picture!”

“I sure can,” Jordan nodded. “On the count of three! One... two... three!”

But just as her uncle snapped the photo, Sammy lurched forward and grabbed a fistful of the cotton candy colored icing, and when Tobias attempted to intervene, he ended up with a tiny fistful of sticky, sugary goodness splattered onto his face. A family photo that would be celebrated for generations to come was born.

Beaming, Tobias lifted Sammy off Casey’s lap as her chubby little hands mashed the icing deeper into her father’s beard.

Laughing, Casey pulled her phone out of her pocket to snap some shots of her own. “Our little girl has you wrapped around her finger, T!”

Tobias reached over and pulled Casey close; the sticky icing became a family affair when he kissed her cheek. “She sure does. Just like her, Momma!”

Amidst all the chaos, Pietro saw an opportunity, and he took it! Leaping onto the table, he stuck his paws into the cake and delighted in his sugary bonanza until Casey spotted him out of the corner of her eye.

“Pietro! No!” she hollered as Jackie, the only one who had seen the cat on the table, broke out laughing.

“You saw him and didn’t rat him out?” Casey teased. "What's happened to you?"

Jackie merely shrugged. “You have to admire him. He wanted something, saw an opening, and took it. I’m not about to turn him in for that.”

"Are you and that cat... bonding?" Casey asked.

"I guess Sammy's birthday is capable of miracles."

~~~~~ 

Hours later, after the final guest had gone home, Casey and Tobias snuggled together on the couch. Sammy slept in her playpen just feet away while Pierto kept a protective watch over her. Despite being exhausted, the proud parents couldn’t wipe the grins off their faces.

“This was such a great day,” Casey smiled. “I knew it would be, but it exceeded all expectations.”

“It was a really great day,” Tobias agreed. “And I think Ma only violated three town ordinances by insisting a wallaby was included in the petting zoo."

“She didn’t break any ordinances,” Casey laughed, her eyes suddenly going wide. “At least, not any that we know of.”

“Well, if she did, we successfully evaded charges, and that's all I can ask for."

“Mmmm,” Casey hummed, snuggling closer to him. “So, do you still want to add another Carrick to all this craziness?”

Tobias sat up, his interest piqued. “Damn straight, I do. Honestly, I want our girls to be close together. Jordan and I had a big age difference, and I’d like Sammy to grow up with her sister, you know?”

“Tobias,” Casey chuckled. “You know we have no way of knowing if we'd have another girl!”

His eyes lit up, and that little dimple Casey found so irresistible took center stage. “Oh, yes, I do. Now the big question... are you ready to have bambina number two?”

Casey sunk back into the fluffy couch cushions with a smile. “Soon? Maybe we can start trying around the end of summer. You know, it might not happen right away, but if we start then, maybe Sammy can have a little sister... or brother... by the end of next year. What do you say?"

“First, sister,” Tobias grinned. “And it will happen right away. Look at how fast it happened with Sammy.”

“Babe, we weren’t planning on Sammy.”

“Exactly,” Tobias grinned, holding Casey close. "I work that damn well when we weren't even trying... you just wait until we are."

Sammy made a funny little noise, and when Mom and Dad realized she was just having a happy dream, they returned to holding each other close.

"Well, I feel a lot better right now than I did a year ago at this time," Casey stated. "I mean, a day of family and friends is a cakewalk next to labor and delivery."

"Yet, you're willing to do it again," Tobias chuckled.

"Yeah, I think I'll make it through," she smiled. "I love our little family, T."

"So do I," he said with a kiss on her forehead. "And I love you."

~~~~~

That's some serious sweetness here, my friends! I hope you enjoyed it... Pietro sure did!

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesaprilchallenge24 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.