#also every terrible thing in the world has happened to this girl they were kinda overdoing it with her backstory lmao...but yeah i mean. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

estro-gem · 10 months

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Zooble x Gangle: Anywhere the wind blows

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note: Welcome to this long-boi fic!

It's long and probably tedious to read, but overall, I'm actually pretty okay with how this turned out. Eh, kinda... I almost decided to scrap this entire thing and write something else, but I already got too far by that point and pushed through - trying to make the best of it.

It has a little bit of everything; some body dysphoria, action, violence, mutilation, stalking, maybe some bad-written tension and a nice section lil' of not-smut.

Good ol' not-smut!

Sorry to all the bunnydoll lovers, this is a zoogang story - and it's a pretty long one.

Bunnydoll is only briefly mentioned, but you also get some messed-up 'bromance' between Gangle and Jax, as well as Zooble losing their marbles while Jax is being Jax, doing Jax stuff...

Warnings:

Suggestive/vulgar language (Mostly censored, but worth mentioning)

Body dysphoria

Fighting

Dissociation

Panic attacks

Mutilation

Questionable dancing (?)

SUMMARY:

Zooble was making their way to the lake to go dancing with Gangle. Upon arrival, the sight of Gangle caused Zooble to reminisce about their arrival in The Amazing Digital Circus and the chaos that followed.

ANYWHERE THE WIND BLOWS

“You off to harass your crybaby with your terrible dance-moves again?”

Zooble rolled their mismatched eyes to the sound of Jax’s annoying voice. They were in a good mood; and begged whatever higher power there was for the bunny to just leave them be tonight.

“Sure am!” they spoke with an obviously false, chipper tone, deciding to give the menace a taste of his own medicine, “Are you off to make out with your plushie again?”

Zooble peeked over their shoulder to see if he had the reaction they were hoping for. Unfortunately, Jax still wore his stupid, smug grin, causing them to pause, attempting to find the words that would force a crack into the rabbit’s shield.

It wasn’t long before they spoke again, “Or would you rather be our little peeping tom – again?”

Finally, the Cheshire grin fell and Zooble had the honor of basking in Jax’s unimpressed scowl.

“That was one time!” the rabbit cried, then relaxed his stance to recollect his composure, “Ya know why I was there – and it definitely wasn’t to get an eyeful. You two are disgusting, in case ya didn’t notice. Who could get off to that?”

“You, apparently.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED AND YOU KNOW IT!”

“Whatever… freak.” Zooble turned around and continued to make their way to the tent entrance, smiling to themself. They would never let him live that down – context be damned.

“Yeh, go drown yourself, will ya?” They vaguely heard Jax’s voice call after them.

They definately prefered the rabbit as carefree as he carried himself these days, compared to how intense he used to be when they first arrived...

They were on their way to the lake, where they knew Gangle would be.

The ribbinoid had many hidden talents; dancing happened to be one of them. She could move as if she was gliding, and she could leap like she was flying. Zooble already felt the girl entice them from a distance as they approached the bank of the lake.

Gangle was always a beauty unlike any other when she was dancing on her own. Clearly, in her own world, she practically floated with grace as her ribbons – usually coiled and shortened to form a make-shift body – stretched out and twirled, elongated, and reflecting the moonlight with every scarlet shape they drew in the air. The stars that were mirrored on the water surface made it look like the masked ribbon was dancing in the sky.

The sight gently guided Zooble’s mind back to the first time they lost their heart to their masked princess. Back then, they were so different to how they acted now. They were traumatized by the realization that they were trapped in an unknown Digital hellscape, only accompanied by a handful of other prisoners.

Stuck in an abomination of body that they never wanted.

Zooble didn’t always look the way they did before. Then again, Zooble never even looked the way they did the day before! They liked to swap, match and mix their parts, storing them safely in a box that they kept in their room.

Sometimes they could feel them clawing at the confines of said box to get to her, but it was best not to think about that.

When they first fell prey to the Digital Circus, they were what many would describe as a monster. A mess of arms, heads, eyes, and limbs; all with a mind of their own. They couldn’t find their feet – there were too many of them!

Upon arrival, Zooble stumbled around like someone who was possessed, moving more like a spider than a human. They were disoriented and desperate as they helplessly tugged and pulled on the strings of this puppet that was apparently their new body. They had no mouth and yet they heard someone screaming hysterically. It would only be in the far future, when Zooble thought back to their arrival, when they would realize that it was them who was screaming.

They just had no mouth to realize it at the time.

They screamed as they witnessed the excessive limbs and eyes that sprouted from differently-shaped structures that only vaguely felt like their torso – only that it also felt like nothing of the sort, because it wasn’t normal to have 3 torsos.

Or eyes on your knees and arms that gave you 5 different perspectives of the room all at once…

They moved like a sandstorm, forcing the circus inhabitants into a blind panic. Their monstrous form resembled an abstraction; so much so, that they heard one of them cry out in question to Caine.

“Can humans abstract upon arrival?!”

They didn’t know what it meant. They didn’t care.

All they cared about was ripping off the excessive limbs that they never knew they had. To the creature’s horror, the limbs popped off with unnatural ease and scrambled on the floor to maneuver its way back to them. It was something that would keep even the bravest of souls awake at night.

When the ragdoll of the bunch slowly approached Zooble, (as they were in the process of tearing their own limbs off) something else possessed them.

Dolls should move or talk like humans!

It didn’t help how much the doll tried to talk them down – one moment, they just stared at the doll in disbelief, and the next, they charged her like a steam train. They were so inhumanly fast, but that didn’t phase Zooble at the time. They were only focused on one thing.

The raggedy-monster in front of them.

In a flash, the doll was within reach for Zooble to tear her apart. They were beside themself as they threw themselves onto Ragatha, only to feel the wind being knocked out of them when something abruptly crashed into them from the side, causing them to stray off course and stumble to the floor.

Claws.

Claws were digging into their brightly-coloured shell and flesh. Claws swiped burning trenches of pain in their wake. They caught the blurry image of yellow eyes and a feral grin that was pulled into a snarl before they felt one of their eyes pop between its jaws.

It was a pain worthy of unlocking the gateway of the fourth horseman.

Zooble fought and scrambled for grip on the gaint, rabid hare. They were terrified and acting in blind desperation as their many limbs with multiple claws, digits and shapes grabbed and thrashed at anything that could get the purple creature off them. They were going to fight until at least one of them was lying motionlessly on the floor.

Zooble wasn’t going to die to a bunny.

Neither were prepared to be yanked from each other and held apart. Two other creatures grabbed the purple rabbit by both arms in attempt to restrain him, but even with 2 against one, the rabbit put up one hell of a fight. While the bunny only had eyes for Zooble, desperate and mindless in his pursuit to rip into them, they took the moment to spot the scarlet ribbons that were rapped around their being. They followed the trail of ribbons that kept them immobilized, only to see it led to a mask with a painted face, scrunched up in effort, yet strangely smiling while keeping them restrained.

They tugged and twisted, but the ribbons seemed to have metal in them as they were unable to tear them up. It was but a few moments that Zooble struggled before they were overcome with a wave of dread that crashed over them, leaving the poor creature to sink down into a lowered stance.

They couldn’t escape.

They were a monster.

They were going to be eaten by other monstrous creatures and there was nothing else they could do about it.

When did they start trembling so violently?

Although they awaited the onslaught of the other inhabitants to tear into them, they were only met with the tight grip of the ribbons that held them down. The events that followed, all happened in a blur. They saw the rabbit slowly grow still and lose interest in them, only to fix his gaze on the ragdoll Zooble attempted to charge before. He seemed to be talked down by what looked like an oversized chess piece with a purple robe.

In the next moment, the rabbit was free. He rushed to the doll. He looked her over with a rough hand, only to grasp her forearm and drag her off to somewhere that was out of their line of sight. He didn’t react to anything or anyone else – clearly on a mission to get away.

There was a commotion…

And suddenly, Zooble was alone, while still being restrained by the ribbon-creature with a mask. They numbly wondered why the others would leave this one alone with them.

The thoughts didn’t last too long, as they were suddenly weightless and free.

They stumbled back and curled into themself as they fixed their eyes on the mess of ribbons that shrunk and coiled into something that resembled a body while the owlish gaze of the painted mask danced over their unusual, messy form. She averted their eyes and tilted her chin down, almost in shame.

There was a beat of silence until she spoke in a pleasantly soft voice.

“Are you still hurt?”

Zooble refused to answer but enjoyed hearing the ribbonoid creature speak to them in the now quiet, empty space. Taking a moment to consider her question, they came to the sudden realization that they were mauled and bitten before. Unintentionally startling the ribbinoid, they grabbed at their body, feeling, and grasping at their form and eyes with their many limbs, only to find that the damage was suddenly gone.

As if it never happened.

The Zolo-being looked back to the masked ribbon, who was studying them closely.

“Yeah, that’s something we all were rattled by at first” She said carefully, trying to decide on what eyes she should be looking to, “We can get hurt here - and it wouldn't matter. We… we can’t die here... It’s hard to explain." the girl shook her head, then assumed a more confident tone, "But this Digital Circus is your home now, whether you like it or not. You need to understand this to survive.”

Even though the woman’s voice was working to a swell in intensity, Zooble didn’t understand anything that was said. Even though they didn’t have a face, it was evident. The girl, of course, noticed this and sighed.

“Look, if you are going to hurt my friends every time you become overwhelmed, you should just stay away.” she spoke firmly, “If you don’t, it’ll be me you’ll need to answer to.”

With that, she turned on her heels and walked without looking back.

For days - weeks, that was the last time Zooble interacted with anyone. They took Gangle’s advice, having learnt her name while creeping around the tent. They stayed away, hiding among the debris and structures that was scattered around the tent. The inhabitants were somehow assured by Gangle, who just shared that ‘the newcomer will remain out of their business.’

Zooble actually got to know bits of all of the inhabitants of the Circus, like, for example, that the doll who they launched themself at. She was called Ragatha and she was unfortunately a saint. They wanted the earth to swallow them whole with how ashamed they felt for ever thinking to harm her of all people. They also came to know that Jax was the animal that attacked them – and that he was the most unpleasant of the bunch, bullying everyone for his own personal enjoyment.

He especially mistreated Gangle… and for some reason, that just didn’t sit well with Zooble, but they were too busy staying out of sight to think about it too much or do anything about it. They couldn’t even move around properly, let alone stand up for someone they barely knew. To their surprise, it seemed like all of the inhabitants just swallowed Jax's bullying - no questions asked.

There was something seriously wrong with this place.

Other than unholy screeching when they first arrived, Zooble was stunned to silence. It felt too alien to speak with no mouth, let alone allow anyone to see what a horrifying monstrosity they’ve become. They settled on watching the cast interact and live their lives. It was slowly becoming Zooble’s new reality – living in the shadows and remaining unnoticed.

Well, almost unnoticed.

The abomination never comprehended it fully, but Gangle always knew exactly where they were. She could walk into the area and in a matter of seconds, their eyes would meet. It came to a point where Zooble didn’t care about Gangle exposing their place of hiding anymore, as there were countless times that she would spot Zooble and just nod in quiet acknowledgement. She even saved Zooble from being spotted or disturbed a handful of times.

It was like a special, unspoken agreement that only they shared.

An exchange.

Gangle intrigued Zooble to no end. She was so quiet, but always watching - always aware. Always thinking. Zooble would give anything to know what was going on in her head. She was also unique in the sense on having 2 faces! One bright and smiling, and the other muddled and tearful.

Zooble liked to see her smile, but that damn rabbit always had the nerve to break her mask...

They should've killed him when they had the chance.

It wasn’t until one fateful night when Zooble managed to evade Gangle’s eyes while exploring the grounds, only to mistakenly stumble onto the lake. Not only that, but they also unintentionally found Gangle on the bank of the lake.

Words couldn't describe the beauty that they saw.

She was dancing under the stars, while Zooble could only watch in awe. It was the most beautiful event they have ever witnessed, suffering at the rush of heat the overtook their form as the quietly looked on... trying to move closer for a better visual…

SNAP

With the snap of a twig, Gangle’s dance was over.

She quickly retracted her ribbons to form her body once again, calling out to whomever crept up on her private moment. She called Jax's name first, much to Zooble's annoyance. Gangle was flustered; eyes darting around to find the intruder, only to miss Zooble’s form that was cramped and crushed behind a bush.

They were annoyed with themself for ruining such a beautiful scene. Zooble silently hoped for the girl to brush it off and continue, longing to see the blissful look on her face as she danced once again, but to their dismay, Gangle turned to walk towards the direction of the tent, not quite smiling as brightly as before.

That couldn’t be the end of it!

“Wait!” Zooble’s voice cried out before they could think to keep quiet.

Was that what they sounded like?

Gangle visibly jumped at the new voice, before darting their eyes to the source – the bush Zooble was hiding behind. Zooble would’ve commended the girl's auditory skills in any other situation, but there was only one thought that came to mind at the time. They huffed out a breath, before speaking again, trying to look past the dissociation they felt to their voice.

“Stay.” They pleaded, while awkwardly maneuvering into the moonlight, casting a long, spider-like shadow to trail behind them, “Dance.”

Gangle’s eyes were initially wide, but eventually fell into an unreadable expression once the shock of seeing Zooble – of hearing Zooble for the first time, faded. The ribbonoid was overcome with an unexplainable joy upon hearing them speak - but they could not make a fuss! She wouldn't want the poor creature to be scared away again. She already regretted to only official conversation the had...

The silence stretched for so long, that the multi-legged creature nearly jumped when Gangle lifted her arm to hold it out to Zooble, “Dance with me.”

That was not what they expected.

Dumbfounded, Zooble looked down at their mess of a body, using the highest arm to gesture to the excessive number of limbs they had, before hesitantly speaking up. “I can’t.”

“You can if I can.” Gangle stretched and twirled her body into a little sequence, before resuming her form and looking at Zooble in a challenge, “You and I are the same, aren’t we?”

How was it possible for a woman to be so timid, and yet so steady?

“What?” Zooble frowned in confusion, blurting out before they could think, “How? You’re a bunch of ribbons with a face!”

“You’re a bunch of parts.” Gangle countered, seemingly brimming with confidence, “We are not one body, we are more, aren’t we?”

“I’m a load of junk.” Zooble tore their gaze away to attempt at hiding the blush that crept up their form, ashamed of what they resembled, “Spare parts that don’t even fit together. I don’t even have a mouth.” There was a brief pause, before they quietly added, “You make it look so beautiful…”

They never thought that they would admit it, but they were at the mercy of the truth. Gangle officially became their muse and they didn’t have a say in the matter.

Gangle surprised Zooble with her giggle, only to sigh in retort, “You’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

The statement made the misshaped being scoff, “Geez, thank you for your oh so sweet compliment. Look at me, I’m practically swooning at your praise.”

Zooble was insulted, but the genuine laugh that Gangle let out was so lovely that it almost didn’t feel like they were being gutted by a ribbon.

“Well, I don’t see what could be beautiful about a freakshow like me.” Gangle chuckled gesturing to herself to emphasize her point. Zooble couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“You kidding?” they huffed in expiration, “Did you not see yourself just then? It’s alien, sure, but you were great! You were-”

“-unlike anything you’ve ever seen before?” The girl cut them off with a cheeky grin.

“Fine, touché.” Zooble mumbled reluctantly.

The atmosphere was lighter than before, and Gangle took it as an invitation to take a tentative step closer to her new aquantance. She was itching to know more about them; desperate to close the gap in the odd relationship they managed to build over time. Despite not directly interacting with each other, Gangle had to admit to herself that she did feel a level of attachment to the creature that she once told off.

It was a shame that things turned out the way they did.

If Gangle had known that a conversation, like this one, could’ve had her laughing in enjoyment, she would’ve tried harder a long time ago. For now, she just focused on keeping the conversation going. Her mind was racing - deducing that this creature could become a part of their group if they managed to hold out on their own for this long.

It definitely wasn't because her stomach flipped every time she felt their eyes fixate on her from their hiding-spots.

“When you, um, walk…?” Gangles spoke, hoping to keep the conversation going, “Move around-?”

“Keep going, I get it-”

Gangle huffed a laugh, before hesitantly gushing what she intended as praise, “You look like… a force. You look powerful and strong – like you’ll pummel anything in your way.”

Zooble cringed slightly, not knowing how to feel, “Thanks?”

“I wish I could be that.” Gangle breathed, before sinking into herself slightly, “One mistake – one tug, one knock – and I’m broken.”

“What are you talking about?” Zooble spoke in disbelief, “You held me down while almost being torn apart by a savage animal! You ARE a force. You are probably even stronger than I am!”

“You don’t understand.” Gangle’s smile was bitter, causing Zooble heart sink, “I wasn’t talking about my ribbons.”

Suddenly, it clicked.

“Oh yeah… You have two faces.”

Gangle placed a ribbon on her cheek, dragging it down along the side, “This one is fragile. It needs replacement almost every other day. Even then, I can’t wear it too much. I lose myself to insanity and sadism. I become – dependent on it… Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No.” It didn’t benefit Zooble to lie.

“That’s ok.” Gangle laughed in thought, though it seemed darker than her previous giggles, “The others do.”

Zooble took a step closer to the ribbonoid, deciding that her previous statement was something akin to a personal confession. Other than that, they wanted to see Gangle really smile again.

“Should I be worried?” they asked with genuine concern. She only shook her head, before explaining things that Zooble didn’t really understand, but indulged the girl any way they could.

“If something happens to me, it’s best that you get Jax.”

If something happens?

“Jax, the bunny guy? Isn’t he an $&%#@$?” Zooble jolted at the harsh, sudden sound of a horn drowning their voice. “Wha-?”

“Live censors – You’ll get used to it.” Gangle dismissed too easily for Zooble’s liking, “Jax - he knows his place. He’s my best friend.”

Upon Gangle’s fond smile, Zooble felt their gut – where-ever it my be – twist. A thought ghosted over their mind that Gangle may have been delusional after all.

“I don’t think you understand how badly he’s been treating you.” They spoke curtly.

“You just don't understand what it takes to stay sane here. Don't worry, you’ll come to learn how we all work together.” Gangle dismissed once again, only frustrating Zooble more, “Jax has his place. I have mine – everyone here has theirs.” She smiled up to the amalgamation, “One day, you’ll find yours.”

“Ok. Whatever.” Zooble simply said, frustrated, “We don’t have to talk about this now."

Gangle just chuckled as if she knew something that they didn’t.

They decided that it was best just to give up trying to understand the Circus and everyone’s dynamics. Zooble was cut short by Gangle holding out her ribbon for Zooble to take. They almost did it out of sheer compulsion.

“Will you have this dance with me?” the ribbonoid invited once again.

Her smile was like a drug, inhibiting Zooble from opposing her. The Zolo-being rolled their eyes to themself and took a breath to muster the will to remind the Gangle that they couldn’t dance.

For all they knew, they could be dancing themself into selling their soul or something.

...

Damn it all...

What did any of this matter anyway?

“Shut up and come here.”

With Gangle’s melodic laugh echoing in their mind, they dragged the girl to the open clearing on the bank of the lake.

It started out as a messy, clumsy jumble of limbs and ribbons, but as they relaxed and laughed into the night, their movements gained purpose and sequence. Together, they found their rhythm in the presence of no music, and their forms moved in sync.

Before long, their bodies were no longer separated.

They were one.

One in touch, mind, soul, and breath. They’re hands became their news eyes. Their bodies bloomed into voices that spoke words of unfathomable desire and yearning. They melting to each other’s caress and motions.

Two people dancing under the moonlight, living in the moment, and lost in the little world of heated passion that they have created for themselves.

They were somewhere else.

Laughing.

Yearning.

Breathless.

Both hoped for the magic to last forever...

It ended all too soon.

Zooble opened their eyes again. They were met with the harsh reality of a milky, porcelain mask smiling at them. They already longed for the woman from before; the one who they allowed to soar with the stars. That woman was everything they ever wanted in this life; maybe even in the previous life. How they would crumble for that woman to smile at them… but seeing such a petite little being smile at her as she was currently doing…

Zooble decided that it would suffice to see this smile too.

What they would give to have lips…

As if reading their mind, Zooble suddenly became aware of the intimate embrace of ribbons wrapped around them. Gangle felt so sure and steady, while they felt like they would crumble into a pile of useless parts. They couldn’t tear their gaze away from the soft, owlish stare given by the ribbinoid, suffering under the sudden burst of butterflies when they felt her new dance partner squeeze.

Butterflies.

Nothing could stop the sound that left them.

Nothing could stop Gangle's forehead from colliding with what she assumed to be Zooble's head with a soft ‘clink,’ sharing breaths they didn’t need. If they had a say in the matter, they wouldn't let her go, but that just wasn't how Zooble's mind worked. Unlike Gangle, they couldn't cling to a dream for long - they always found their feet planted on the ground of reality - this new reality.

Zooble knew this moment couldn’t last.

Based on what Gangle said before, they realized that staying sane was the key to survival in the digital world.

It was only a matter of time before another day started at the Circus. Zooble didn’t know much, but they did know that Gangle and the others had grown used to sleep. As much as they just wanted to die in her arms that night, they didn’t want to break her routine – anyone’s routine for that matter. From what Zooble could tell, it was one of the things that the members had to do to stay sane. Now, grown fond of Gangle, they wanted to see her make it through this torment of a life they were trapped in.

So, they had to let the girl go for now.

“We need to go.” Zooble’s voice was so low and hushed, they almost didn’t recognize themself.

“No, wait! We can stay a bit longer.” Gangle sounded so pretty when she was desperate. Zooble clung to the pride of causing the girl to beg for them.

So soft. So delicate.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up. We can have this again, can’t we?”

“You don’t know that!”

“Gangle.” Zooble was stern, but still gentle, “We need to stay sane. We need routine. It’s so wonderful that I found you…” they trailed one of their many hands over the ribbons wrapped around their torse, reveling in their trembling as her touch glides by, “I want to keep you. I need you sane. We need to survive this together.”

Silence.

It was a strenuous reality check, but it was necessary. They couldn’t dwell in their dreams forever.

“Ok, but we’ll meet each other here again! At least once a week! This was…” Gangle looked off to the side, seemingly bashful, “This was magical.”

“Call me a magician, then!” Zooble jested, earning a giggle from the girl as they did their best to nuzzle into Gangle's mask, “Go on to your room. I need to make sure I didn’t lose any arms while we were throwing our sick moves for the world to see.”

After a cackle, Gangle loosened her grip around Zooble to form the shape of her body once again, “I can help you look?”

“Don’t make it weird, Smiley. Go!”

Smiley.

Gangle seemed to like that one.

“I’m sorry! I’m going, I’m going!” Gangle almost sprinted off, only looking back to call back to Zooble, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

"You always do!"

Zooble was smiling to themself, but got cut short when they heard Gangle let out an ‘oof,’ followed by the sound of a thud. Spinning around to see just how the ribbonoid embarrassed herself, Zooble’s body was jolted with the shock of seeing two sadistic, yellow eyes gleam down at Gangle, who had tripped over a deliberately extended foot. Due to the padding of the grass, Gangle’s mask didn’t break – thank goodness – but the abomination’s relief was short-lived as those golden orbs slowly focused on them.

Jax.

The bunny was casually leaning against the trunk of the tree with his gaze fixed on them. This time, his ever-grinning expression was unreadable, forcing a shiver to crawl up their back.

That creep.

Gangle’s eyes shifted from Jax to Zooble, again and again, until she seemed to hiss something to Jax, soft enough for the Zolo-creature not to hear from the great distance. Jax didn’t pay her any mind, as his predatory gaze set straight onto them and them alone. Gangle gave Zooble one more worried glance, to which they just reluctantly nodded; the girl should leave them be.

It was high time for Jax to face the music, Zooble decided.

Gangle also seemed reluctant, but slowly stood up. It was then when Jax closely traced her movements with his eyes. All the while, Zooble was left with a lump in their throat as they waited for Jax to try his luck again. They were so far away, Zooble would only be able to watch him do whatever he wished before they could come to Gangle’s aid. He looked ready to rip her apart and there was nothing they could do but watch.

They watched – holding their breath, as Gangle stood up…

They watched – as Gangle turned and noticed Jax's eyes on her.

They expected the ribbonoid to fearfully back away, but Zooble's world was flipped onto it's head when they saw her stand her ground by giving Jax the most sinister smile they had ever witnessed.

Bone-chilling. Wicked.

Jax’s smile couldn’t ever match what was painted on that theatre mask. They were almost certain that Jax would retaliate any second…

But his assault never came.

There was only a slight shift in his stance – enough to let their breathe hitch. The silence was a cacophony of chaos pounding into Zooble’s head.

For a moment there was nothing, until Gangle finally moved.

She slowly turned on her heels and walked off to the tent, as if nothing happened. It was so bizarre, they almost thought that she managed to cast a spell over Jax, who was frozen in place at the time. By the Lord, she already cast a spell over them with her charms.

Scary smile or not, that woman was irresistable!

It was only when Gangle disappeared into the tent, that Jax’s eyes were fixed onto them again.

“So, it can speak.” At least Jax’s voice rung as annoying as ever, “Nice moves you got there... What do you call the one where you two practically #@% each other in public? And by that, I mean ALL of it?”

“What do you want?” Zooble spat.

They didn’t want anything to do with him.

“I want us to come to an understanding.” Jax pushed off the tree trunk and strolled his way closer to the amalgamation, “I know you gave Raggs quite a scare before… now you’re throwing yourself at Ribbons, huh? Quite the womaniser, aren'cha?”

Zooble took note of the glimmering flash that came from Jax’s hand, letting their eyes drift to see what it could be. Dread had Zooble’s soul sink to their many feet.

He was holding a cleaver knife this entire time.

He was standing over Gangle – knife in hand - and one swipe away from tearing their muse apart.

All for a sick little laugh?!

At that moment, they were human again, forgetting about their digital immortality that they all were cursed with.

“Now you listen to me very carefully,” Zooble growled as Jax’s icy grin stalked closer, “I’ve been watching you for a long time now, and I still don’t know what your deal is. You are lower than dirt and you think you just own the tent, don’t you? Thinking no one would care about you making everyone’s lives difficult? I wasn’t even here for that long, but even I can see that Ragatha is an ANGEL, and you didn’t think twice about throwing an axe into her face the other day! It’s disgusting! You are scum! Filth! And I don’t care what your deal is with me, but if you ever hurt Gangle o-or Ragatha... or ANYONE else for that matter, I will make it my life mission to make you beg me to kill you instead of what I have planned.”

That brought Jax to a complete stop.

Not only did he stop, but his face fell to one of confusion, then dread, then confusion again. It was so uncanny, it was almost funny. Zooble found themself so dumbstruck by that reaction, that they forgot what their train of thought was leading to.

They never saw this side of the bunny before.

Moments crawled by in complete silence, with nothing but confused expressions meeting each other. It wasn’t until Zooble awkwardly cleared their throat before Jax seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in.

“Well, wouldn’t you know…” Jax mused almost to himself, casually shoving the knife into his front pocket, “You actually managed to fib me, huh? And here I thought that you’d be something I needed to take care of.”

He laughed. If Zooble didn’t know any better, she’d think that he was relieved.

“What’s happening?” Zooble asked dumbly.

“What’s happening is that you, my friend, are one of us now! Jax-approved! You killed me with your flattery - I knew I was good, but I didn't know I was that good.” Jax flashed them the smug, know-it-all smile that they still hated so much. He was probably planning to make a fool out of them, but still, they didn’t understand the sudden, genuine shift in Jax’s aura – it was suddenly almost… bearably benign.

It was whiplash!

“Again, what's happening…?”

“Sheesh, what does she see in you? You’re so slow!” Jax sighed, but continued to boredly explain, before they had the chance to retort, “I couldn’t get a read on ya before! Ya seemed mighty interested in Ribbons though – sneaking around, staring at her, and stalking her to the lake and all-”

“I wasn’t stalking her!”

“Yeh, yeh, whatever – so I just happened to swing by and… step in… if you ended up trying somethin’ with the crybaby. That’s all there is to it.”

Zooble blinked before glancing down to the cleaver knife in his pocket, slowly piecing it all together.

Did he have a heart after all?

“You were going to shank me if I messed with Gangle?” Zooble narrowed her eyes.

“Shank ya? Nah, not my style, toots.” Jax abruptly plucked the cleaver knife from his front pocket and threw it into a nearby tree without looking. If it wasn’t for the squawk, followed by the sounds of glitching, Zooble would’ve missed that Jax successfully hit a bird with a lethal blow – now pinned to the tree trunk with a knife through its chest. It disappeared soon after it started glitching, only leaving the blade in the trunk. It seemed to Zooble, now clear as ever.

Jax didn’t miss.

Feelings of intimidation aside, Zooble recalled Gangle’s words from before. She called Jax her best friend, not even hesitant to say it, despite how badly he was treating her – how badly he was treating everyone! And yet, he came out here, thinking that they were stalking Gangle… armed with a knife...

They leaned unto one hip to relax their stance, “You were looking out for her…”

Huh.

“Bah! I’m just makin’ sure you don’t steal my schtick.” Jax rolled his eyes, “I do what I need to do.”

His words made Zooble’s thoughts flip back to what Gangle said before.

'You’ll come to learn how we all work together. He has his place. I have mine – everyone here has theirs. One day, you’ll find yours.'

“What exactly is it that you do?” They asked, hoping to get some answers for once. “Gangle said something about you all ‘playing your part’ or whatever…”

“Yeah, no, not having this discussion with ya, sorry bub.” Jax started walking off in the direction of the tent, seemingly done with the conversation. Zooble’s eye twitched.

“What do you mean?!”

“Not what I do, ugly. I just play my part.” Jax smile creeps up to a taunting grin, “Go talk to Raggs. Explainin’ these things to new suckers is her part.”

“But what’s your part?” Zooble raised their voice not only in frustration, but also because Jax was making greater distance between them as he continued walking.

“This is my part!”

“What do you mean ‘this is?’ What’s ‘this?’”

“Ask Raggs~!”

“And what do I do? What's my part!?”

“Bye~!”

“Mother@$@#%!!”

Some fanart of this fic: (CLICK HERE TO SEE)

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

Additional Author's note: If you read the whole thing with all of the mistakes I didn't notice to fix, you are a legend!

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seijorhi · 8 months

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rhi, i have a confession. you know i love your writing immensely, right? i’ve at least read every single one of your fics THREE TIMES. i love your writing that much. well... there is one fic of yours i can only handle to read once and never ever again. disclaimer: not because it was terribly written or anything. no, so so far from that. you wrote it so well that i can only handle going through the heart break once of reader being so desperate for kuroo’s love even if it’s just a fraction of how he felt for his late lover knowing deep down that she (reader) will never compare nor will kuroo love her even quite close to her (kuroo’s late lover)

also, wow. remembering that fic and has made me think about how incredibly... sad... obsession can be. now i’m thinking about what will happen if reader dies before the yans whether it may be from an illness, an accident, murder, or natural causes. i can see some yans literally die from heartache (i heard somewhere that it happens 😧) or go batshit crazy killing spree (if it were caused by an accident / murder) or i also can see some try to find an imitation of them to fill in the hole in their heart (that they most likely never fill)

personally, i am not one for the concept of a yan that tries, tries and tries again. it kinda kills the fun (again, for me) when they're willing – eager, even – to just move onto the next one after it doesn't work out. like it didn't matter, didn't rewrite their fucking DNA, loving you.

no, i like an obsession that rots. that twists like a knife, that digs its claws in so deep, even if its wrenched out there's no fixing the mess left behind. which, in a weird way, is why i love imitation.

like i said, normally the idea of a replaceable darling really doesn't do it for me, nor do fics where the reader/object of obsession dies. it's why beyond imitation i'll probably never write the trope again BUT looking at imitation through the lens of that first love? kuroo being absolutely destroyed by her death, and with every failed replacement losing himself a little more?

he was never good, obviously – he stole her, too. he gets worse without her. colder, angrier, more callous. less human. they aren't people to him, they're not her. deep, deep down, he knows all of this is a fool's errand. they'll never be her, so they don't have a hope in hell of filling the gaping, bloody hole she left behind. he's dragging kenma down with him, he doesn't care about that either. the smart, healthy thing to do would be to accept it. there's no moving on for someone like him, of course not, but he could stop hurting other people, stop taking the pretty girls that remind him of her, at half a glance anyway.

but that's not going to happen either. because if he can convince himself, for a single moment, a heartbeat, that he's got her back in his arms, that she never left him in the first place–

he'd burn the fucking world for that.

#rhi answers #also this ask is so cute ilysm!!!#fic asks #imitation

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a-really-bad-decision · 2 years

Text

Look. I get that folks who are approaching the finale from this angle are usually doing so from a place of genuine good faith and love for Joel. But like. If your immediate reaction after finishing season 1 is to insist that the cure never could have been developed/distributed/tested/viable and that the Fireflies were stupid/naive/slapdicks/never could have accomplished it anyways, so Joel Definitely Did Nothing Wrong, I can’t help but feel like you’re wildly missing the point of it all.

Because like. Joel did not ever care if the cure could have worked. He did not care if it’s what Ellie might have wanted in that moment (neither did the fireflies of course, but they’re not the ones who traveled by her side, protected her, made her feel safe and cared about). Neither of these were ever a point of consideration in the finale. Ellie’s death and the resultant hypothetical cure could have had a guaranteed 100% success rate. It could have spread instantly, around the world the moment they removed her brain from her skull, turning every single runner, clicker, and bloater back to a healthy human being, with no deleterious side effect.

And Joel still would have shot that doctor point blank in the face.

Because that moment right there, is the point. To me at least. It’s the climax that the whole story has been building towards: a father’s beautiful, selfish decision to save his daughter at the literal cost of the entire world. And not just the world in an abstract sense, but in ways that carry weight to him on a deeply personal level. Tess’ dying wish. A real future for his niece or nephew. Ellie’s own agency in all of this. And he did it without hesitating for a moment.

Going from treating Ellie like cargo, like a clicker waiting to happen, to deciding that her life is more important to him than than any other human being who was or ever will be born? Regardless of whether it’s “““healthy”””, that’s an incredible fucking relationship arc. And it only has this level of gravity and meaning if there are genuine consequences to making that decision.

(And let me be clear here: none of this is a moral indictment of Joel. Joel’s motivations, actions, decisions etc. are all incredibly blatant, human, and relatable, and if he’d done anything but go on that rampage, it would have contradicted everything we know and understand about him so far. Also, he’s fucking fictional. Who gives a shit if he did a Kinda Amoral Thing. None of it is real, and it doesn’t matter)

The argument here isn’t that Fireflies Good And Smart And Can Totally Save The World For Sure Guys, or Joel Did Objectively Bad Thing And Is Unforgivable Bad Forever Now. The argument is that the show is much more interesting and internally consistent if you buy into the idea that there’s a chance, even a slim one, that the fireflies could have extracted a viable vaccine at the terrible cost of a fourteen year old girl’s life. That maybe Joel did prevent a cure from being made – that he potentially did doom the world for Ellie (or at least doomed it to another few decades of limping painfully by until something else came along). And that despite the cost, he pulled that trigger, brutally and without hesitation. He did it knowing that he’ll have to go on living with the knowledge of what he took from everyone, and how effortless it was to make that choice in spite of it all. That he’ll willingly betray Ellie’s trust as many times as he has to if it means keeping her from taking the burden of that guilt on herself, but also because he can’t bear the thought of her hating him if she learned the truth. And most of all (and in his own words), that if he was given the chance to go back and do it again, he would have made the exact same choice all over.

You take that out, and what kinda finale do you get now? A run and gun scene of a man rescuing a girl that he’s come to love, sure, but now it’s from a bunch of one dimensional, child murdering villains, set in a place they never had to go to, preceded by a journey that was rendered useless before they even left, all because there was never any chance of it working in the first place. Pointless roundabout cynicism, and an endpoint that now textually only existed to stick the protagonists in their get along sweater.

You don’t have to agree with this specific interpretation of the ending. I get that this can come across as a harsh reading of Joel, especially since he’s a character that myself and others genuinely like a lot. But that nitpicky fixation on proving that the cure never could have worked always felt more for the benefit of the uncomfortable player/viewer than as any sort of actual narrative improvement. A way to divest yourself of ever having to sit with the weight of either choice. Of having to think about the way that a secret so massive, sitting unspoken between you and a loved one, can rot that relationship. Of the way that someone you thought you trusted can act in your best interests, but against your own wishes.

And if that’s not what you want from the show, genuinely and without judgment: that’s fine. You keep doing you. I’m just not sure why you’re watching something like tlou otherwise.

#the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us spoilers #tbh there's so much more I could say about this topic #the messy ways sarah and ellie are intertwined when considering joel's motives for the finale #the way both the fireflies and joel denied ellie her autonomy in this situation and how it changes her opinions of both going forward #but this is already stupidly long #and I'm also trying to avoid getting into part 2 spoilers in any detail but like. it's relevant okay #all of this is relevant #but even if it wasn't #trying to offload any discomfort you feel towards joel's choice onto a secret potential third ending #where the answer is uncomplicated and easy #is just weakening the story overall imo

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acestories · 1 year

Text

Arc 1; Chapter 1

In some ways the world hasn’t changed; Karens still scream at grocery store clerks for no reason, Douchebags think they own the roads, and the sun continues to rise every morning. But, it’s definitely changed; people fly through the air on their own, a car mechanic lifts the car he’s working on with his bare hand, and a thief outruns a squad of police cars.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. 2020 was terrible already, but as if that wasn’t enough, it had one last fucking piece of shit to throw in our faces. Christmas night, there was a violet star in the sky. By new years eve, it had become a sun. By new years day, a violet mist that brought with it plague, one with a 10% mortality rate, and the rich and powerful hid themselves away from it. As they always did.

But as it turned out, ⅕ of those who survived it got what could only be called Superpowers. And very few of the rich and powerful got Superpowers. The inevitable started to happen.

And where do I fit into all of this? Well, I'm the ñonbinary cat boy waiting for their take out to be ready. What? Just because I got Superpowers doesn't mean I don't want tacos. And these guys make a gochujang teriyaki sauce that is to die for. And I'm not gonna let some random ass fuck wad villain destroy this place, I can't recreate the sauce!

The villain (who I think called himself Syndrome or some shit like that, I can't remember) charged at me, fist raised high. I'm able to dodge at the last minute, the concrete street corner shattering as it took the blow, which when combined with my latest bruises, are enough to tell me that this guy has one of those god damn Escalating Strength powers in addition to the basic stuff.

Gotta take them out fast, before they start punching Blackholes or something. I think someone could do that.

The villain starts monologuing; ooooooh, his name is "Symptom." That's actually kinda cool I gotta admit. Regardless, thank fuck this guy is long winded. Or really into L.A.R.P.ing. Doesn't matter now though; I charge at him with the speed of a bullet and unleash a flurry of blows. After a few seconds of what sounds like a machine gun going off, he starts to fall backwards, a look of surprise on his big stupid, neck-bearded face.

Heh, I caught him Monologuing. Guess that makes me a sly cat instead of a sly dog. :D

Oh yeah, the cat parts. While only ⅕ of survivors got super powers, over half of survivors got "fantasy bits." I got turned into a cat boy, but I've seen people with other things. Someone I went to high-school with got turned into an Orc.

Oh, and these things aren't a package deal, but there is enough overlap that it's testing fate to make a cat girl angry. So the Boomer who's screaming and making threats at me for not saving his car is either really brave or really stupid. I'm betting on the latter.

CRACK!

Shit, wasn't paying attention! Mmm, that's gonna smart tomorrow. I stumble to stay standing, looking for who hit me. Dammit, my vision is still blurry.

POW!

Again, but from the other side. This time though, I'm able to recover faster, and I see a trail of dust kicked up by a wind. Great, a speedster.

Dick wads didn't just get standard stuff, they get to be stupid fast. Faster than even I can see. But, based on the fact that I didn't explode, safe to assume that they're not too much stronger than I. Probably not much tougher either.

I suppose I should explain myself, huh? So, almost every super is significantly stronger, tougher, and faster than they were before, with heightened senses to boot. Most can lift one end of a car. I'm one of the ones that can kill a building. We don't got any Supermans or Omnimans, but we got some guys who're way the fuck up there.

But after the basic stuff, lots of people also got other powers, some coming into them easier than others. Symptom from earlier got Escalating Strength, which makes him stronger the longer he fights, but not tougher or faster (no, I don't know how it works exactly). Our new friend is a Speedster, so they get to move at Mach speeds (or close to it).

But now that I know what to look for, I can look and hear for them. And with my Cat Ears, I'm really good at hearing them tear through the atmosphere. They might be faster than sound, but the air sure as shit isn't. As they come towards me, I fly 30 m (100 in freedom units) up into the air, the Speedster's momentum carrying them past where I was.

Yeah, I got flight. Which is also pretty common, and lots of people make it work. I can't. I can jump up to this high, and after that I can fall with style. If I try to actually fly, I become a hazard to everything around me. Aside from knowing you guys are there, the only other power I know I have is Laser Eyes. And the only time I've used that, I destroyed my bed and first print Power 9 mtg cards! Those are worth $165,100!

As I drift down, I can see the Speedster trying to get her bearings. Well, she's practically where I was, and I can make myself come down really fucking hard. Choosing occam's razor, I bring myself down to the ground. Hard. Hard enough that the Speedster is now a good couple inches in the pavement.

I stand up, keeping my foot down on her head. After a minute or so, I felt confident in assuming she was down. Long enough that I can try to tie her up for the cops. And tie up Symptom. And actual–

"Oh, thank you señior!" I turn around to see the old Latino lady who took my order running up to me. Before I can process this, she glomps me in a bear hug.

"Uh, you're welcome. If you don't mind me asking, what did I do?"

"You saved us." This time, I turn to the Old Japanese man who cooks in the kitchen walking up to me, but picking up a bag I hadn't realized the Speedster had dropped before also hugging me. "The fast one stole from us while you were busy. You're a true hero."

"I'm not a hero. I was only here for tacos."

From the face pressed into my chest came "No, you were the only one here, and you helped. That makes you a hero."

I tried to form a response, but a slight rustling brought my attention, not to the store, but to the hole in an apartment above it. To a family. Their family. Their grandchildren.

As what I just did begins to really sink in, a young teenager comes up to me carrying a bag of styrofoam boxes. "But I only ordered one thing of tacos…" is all I can say weakly.

"The rest is our thanks." The only response I can think of is tears.

#not ace #Nobody Writes #Superheroes #I really need a name for this story #also wish I could get myself to actually make this a comic #if it wasn't for this monstrous art block I'm currently in #I'd draw at least one picture to go with this #feedback appreciated #story #personal writing

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saiilorstars · 1 year

Text

Ch.2: The Girl with the Hive Mind

Steve Rogers x OFC fic • squeeze your eyes for a Bucky Barnes x (2nd)OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @gloryekaterina @averyhotchner @foxesandmagic @lenonizi

Story Masterlist • Seren’s Masterlist• Chloe’s Masterlist

Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

'Ready, ready, ready.'

'Be alert.'

'You are ready.'

Chloe tossed in her bed. She squeezed her eyes shut even more and hoped to God that sleep would finally claim her. If not, she was about to feel terrible for taking a bed that wasn't hers.

'Be ready. There's a 98% chance they are coming.'

Chloe's eyes snapped open and though she couldn't see it, she knew that her eyes were glowing bright blue again. Those numbers hadn't come from them. The Hive Mind spoke very little English to her. No, those numbers had come from her.

Chloe sat up and rubbed her eyes. Sleep was not going to happen tonight.

"Dammit," she threw the covers and got out of bed. It was near six a.m. Another failed night of sleep. She might as well do something productive that morning. She walked up to the dresser and faced her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were still glowing blue. She shook her head hard enough to feel a little dizzy but it was fine if it meant getting rid of the glow and the whispers.

Steve was already in the kitchen getting a drink when Chloe walked in. One look at her and he knew exactly what happened — again. "No sleep?" Chloe silently shook her head as she went in search for a clean glass in the cabinets. "And here I thought you were just coming to join me for my morning run today."

"Mm..." Chloe smirked, "Trying to flatter yourself?"

Steve half smiled, but even then it did not last long. The seriousness took his face over as he continued to study Chloe. "If it has to do with the Hive Mind, you should really see somebody." Steve was almost positive that Chloe's lack of sleep, and other odd symptoms, were because of the alien Hive Mind living in her head.

"Nothing to worry about," Chloe assured him but Steve didn't buy it.

He'd noticed these past days that Chloe was acting a little strange — stranger than usual anyways. He'd grown to really know Chloe Winters, his sometime roommate in D.C. and overall a good friend. Chloe was one of SHIELD'S agents who went on spontaneous missions all over the world but almost always returned to headquarters every few months for a while. Usually in her short stays in D.C. she would be up and about. She was like a buzzing bee—she never stopped. But this time around, she seemed more tired and distant. Something was on her mind and she wasn't saying a thing.

"You're kinda late, aren't you?" Chloe remembered the time it was before leaving his room and it being the hour it was now meant Steve had also slept very, very little last night. Something about her words flustered him and it wasn't until he explained what happened that Chloe understood why.

"I, uh, got held up talking to Seren..." Steve cleared his throat and moved his empty glass to the sink.

"Aaah," Chloe lifted an eyebrow at him, watching him fumble trying to wash his glass. "Another video call?" Steve nodded fairly fast and made a clear attempt to avoid her gaze by washing quicker and harder. "What's that? The fourth call this week?"

"They're just calls."

"And I was born yesterday." Chloe smirked. "I know I look young — my skin care routine is immaculate — but we all know those are two lies. So," she set her own glass on the counter, "what did we talk about? Date ideas—"

"Chloe—"

"—wedding ideas? I'm thinking a June wedding would suit you—"

"Chloe!" Steve turned the water off and grabbed a rag to dry his hands. "You know, I don't think you should push the guy who's graciously letting you take his bed. That was very nice of me."

Chloe met his smile with her own. "It's what brothers do."

"You know? I don't think Bucky ever did that for his sister..."

Chloe smirked. "Then he was a foul brother. Good thing you're a sweet one!"

"Oh, yeah?" Steve started smirking and Chloe came to learn that was never good. Steve was usually very kind but he did have his moments. "Since I'm such a great brother, I'm going to make sure you get some exercise today and since you're already up—"

Chloe's eyes widened. "No!"

"—let's go running!"

"NO!"

Steve Rogers was the nicest man on the planet but he was also ridiculously advantaged. He grabbed Chloe's arm and dragged her out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"No, no, no, no!" Chloe insisted she had many other things to do and when that didn't work, she threatened to call up Seren Soul herself to make him stop.

"Seren's actually resting! Timezones and all!"

Chloe snorted. "Because you were busy making lovey-dovey calls all night! Sheesh! I'd say get a room but I'm in your room right now and I don't want to see anything that'll traumatize me!"

Any other moment, Steve would've felt awful for shoving a young woman into a room and slamming the door on her...but not today. "Get dressed! And I'm going to wait right here for you!"

~ 0 ~

Chloe loved Steve. She absolutely adored him and was so grateful to have met him but right now she absolutely despised him. They were best friends, yes, and sometimes best friends wanted to murder each other. Steve probably never felt that way with her but she did. She absolutely felt that way each time he made another lap and teased her as he ran past her because she couldn't keep up.

"Oh, but I bet if I was ginger with star birthmarks on my body, I'd be getting A TOTALLY DIFFERENT TREATMENT!" She yelled after him, no longer bothering to try and run decently.

Another man was running the same laps and on occasion Chloe would run either with him or behind him. It turned out he was also faster than her but still slower than Steve. And just like Chloe, the man also became another target for Steve's taunts.

"On your left!" Steve said with a grin on his face when he once again passed Chloe and the man.

"Uh-huh, on my left. Got it!" The man sourly said.

Chloe had to huff her way up to the poor soul. "You won't beat him," she flashed him a smile, albeit a tired one. He was rather cute.

"You know that?" He met her gaze with a playful suspicion.

"I do because he doesn't even give me mercy!"

The man laughed. "Because you're his girlfriend?"

"Oh no, no," Chloe shook her head, her high pony tail swinging even more. "That position is taken even though he refuses to admit it." Chloe had to stop for a moment to catch her breath. Luckily, the man stopped a few steps ahead of her and waited. "And for the record, it's clear I'm a friend because only friends would be stupid enough to go run with him." She knew that Seren would be more than capable of keeping up with Steve on a jog, maybe even surpassing him. Once Chloe felt like she could breathe again, she walked up to the man and held a hand out. "Chloe Winters."

"Sam Wilson," the man shook her hand. "And your friend…?" He pretended to look around like he didn't know that Steve was long gone and probably close to making yet another lap.

Chloe chuckled. "Yeah, you should expect him to make a run by us soon. He's not rude—I think he's incapable of doing it—but he's too fucking cocky for his own good sometimes. We can still try to catch up."

"Seriously?" Sam raised an eyebrow at her.

"If you're game," she smiled innocently before taking off in a slow jog. When she heard Sam laugh, she knew he was coming after her.

Their impromptu competition against Steve was, unsurprisingly, futile. He passed them several more times but not without his new favorite words: On your left. Chloe had the time of her laugh watching it get to Sam. It slowed her down in the process but it was all worth it to see the show.

"Don't say it!" Sam started once he felt Steve catching up again. Chloe was long lost behind him which just left him in the competition. "Don't you say it!"

Steve may have also been having a bit of fun from his end. "On your left!" he said quickly and swiftly when he passed Sam.

"Come on!" Sam angrily yelled after him but no matter how much he tried pushing himself, his body was just too exhausted. He had to stop and rest under a tree before he passed out.

"I told you," he heard Chloe say. She was practically dragging her feet towards him. "You don't win against him."

Sam had plenty to say but at that moment, his lungs begged him to grab air. It left Chloe to come take a seat on the ground across from him. She fell flat on her back and shut her eyes. Soon, Steve came by with a big grin on his face. He didn't seem very tired.

"Which one of you needs a medic?" He gently nudged Chloe's leg with his foot. Chloe did not hesitate to try and kick him.

"Shut up!"

"I need a new set of lungs," Sam rested his head against the tree behind him. "Dude, you just ran like 13 miles in 30 minutes!"

Steve pretended to consider the time with a bob of his head. "I guess I got a late start."

Chloe opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Stop talking now."

"Oh c'mon, I'm just having a little bit of fun. And you needed the run."

"Oh!" Chloe brought a hand to her chest. "Never say that to a woman. And you owe me a yogurt parfait." She held a hand up and waited for Steve to take it. He pulled her up to his feet soon enough. "And jokes on you because I've made a new friend and now we're both going to plot your demise."

Sam's laugh drew both of their attention. "Spunk," he directed at Chloe. Steve made a noise that explicitly warned Sam he was wrong. It was way more than that.

"Nice meeting you," Chloe said to him before looking back at Steve. "And I have to go now. Meeting with Tony and all."

"Again?" Steve watched her backtrack away from them.

"Mhm! Might be late for lunch!" Chloe nodded and held her thumbs up. "See you later!" She quickly turned to sprint off.

Steve watched her disappear and wasn't exactly hiding his concern. Over the past year, Chloe had been visiting Tony Stark very often for God knew what reasons. He would ask sometimes but Chloe was a master at being secretive. 'Nothing to worry about!' was her favorite answer. He mentioned the situation to Seren many times and she herself was also worried.

Chloe was always, always, very obscure about what she did for SHIELD and outside of it. The fact that she was meeting with Tony, who had made it very clear he hated SHIELD, could not bode well.

"Let me guess, that's the boyfriend?" Sam's guess was enough to pull Steve out of his thoughts.

He turned back to Sam with wide eyes and a quick shake of his head. "Absolutely not!" Sam laughed but Steve fully meant it. He knew there was no way in hell Chloe and Tony would ever date.

"Big brother, huh?" Sam deduced fairly quickly.

"Something like that." Steve suddenly realized that he had no idea who this man was. The morning had been incredibly entertaining with him around that he forgot about the most basic act of introductions. "What unit you with?"

"58, Pararescue. But now I'm working down at the VA." Sam stretched a hand out to shake with Steve. "Sam Wilson."

"Steve Rogers."

"Yeah I kind of put that together. Must have freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing."

That was an understatement. Steve couldn't imagine what his life would've been like if Seren hadn't been the agent assigned to help him out two years ago. "It takes some getting used to. It's good to meet you, Sam." He turned to leave when Sam called to him.

"It's your bed, right?"

"What's that?"

"Your bed, it's too soft. When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground and use rock for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying in my bed, and it's like…"

It was funny how things could be so similar even when there was a near century of a difference. "Lying on a marshmallow. Feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor," Steve finished Sam's thought. Even right now when Chloe was staying with him and he took the couch, it was far more comfortable than the places he used to sleep in during the war. "How long?"

"Two tours. You must miss the good old days, huh?"

No, he couldn't say that completely. There were various things he liked about today's world that his didn't have. It started with one person and then all the smaller things around her. "Well, things aren't so bad. Food's a lot better, we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet, so helpful. I've been reading that a lot trying to catch up."

"Marvin Gaye, 1972, "Trouble Man" soundtrack," Sam suddenly pointed at him. "Everything you've missed jammed into one album."

"I'll put it on the list," Steve said and followed through by actually jotting it down on a small notebook he carried with him. He had taken his re-integration very seriously, as he had once promised a special woman. He wanted to know what the new world was all about and he felt like he was doing a good job. He wasn't that helpless man that SHIELD found two years ago. He started exploring — he went to art galleries, restaurants that honestly intimidated him sometimes, museums, and just about anything that drew his curiosity. He felt like he had done well with his promise to Seren. And he kept doing new things every day.

He skimmed his list so far and found it was growing bigger than the last time he last checked. Chloe was adamant that he watched something called Doctor Who—apparently it was something she, with her Hive Mind, could connect to—and then there were the classics Seren had listed for him. Natasha had already gotten him to watch Star Wars. Even Stark made his own opinions heard which was why Steve would soon be learning about the moon landing and the Berlin Wall.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Seren's name on the screen. Without deliberating for a second he answered the call. "Hey!" He turned away from Sam for the time being.

~ 0 ~

On the other end, Seren Soul was practically bouncing on her feet. She felt like an absolute child the way she was so damn excited. "STEVE!" She had not intended on yelling and she would apologize if she'd scared him—

~ 0 ~

Steve actually did get alarmed. "Seren? Shouldn't you be resting? Is everything okay? Are you—"

~ 0 ~

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Steve, you gotta listen to me! We've become official! My new Avengers' team is becoming official!"

"What?"

"My team!" Seren laughed. "You know, the team I've been putting together in London for the past 2 years to try to recreate the Avengers Initiative?" Perhaps Steve hadn't needed the review of her sole mission for the past 2 years but he wouldn't tell her that. He simply told her that yes, he did remember that mission. "They've passed all the tests and the evaluations. Steve, they're really ready now."

~ 0 ~

"Wow, Seren, that's great!" Steve felt a burst of pride for Seren. Seren worked so hard to complete that god awful long mission of hers. Seren had become the first recruit of the Initiative at the age of 9—something Steve still wouldn't forgive SHIELD for—and now she had recreated it with new members and all on her own. "So...so what happens now?" He didn't want to outright ask her if it meant she was finally coming home, especially because they had already discussed the possibility of her moving to another country to restart the mission with new recruits.

"Well, the council wants to meet the new team in D.C."

Steve's heart may have skipped a jolt there. "Really?"

Seren may have been missing a few beats herself. "Y-yeah, um...we'd be coming this weekend. It's going to be an event. The Council, a few top ranking agents, Fury...I'd...I'd really like it if you could be there."

"You know I'll be there." Steve really wished he could see Seren right there and then. She had to be over the moon with joy.

"Yeah?" Seren was grinning from ear to ear. Her hand reached to touch the star pendant sitting on her neck. Two years ago, for her birthday, Steve had given her the gift of visiting her ancestors' planet for the first time. Celessia, the planet of the stars, is where Thor - her tour guide - had brought her to and it was there that Seren carved out her own star from the mines just like every Celessian traditionally did when they reached adulthood. Seren's star was a unique one, once again earning a comment from Thor that it represented her unique biology of a Celessian and a human, because the material that she carved it out of wasn't just one color. It never shined the same color twice in one go. Where her grandmother's star shined a bright silver, Seren's was a baby blue and then a bright orange, then a fierce red and so on. It was a true gift that Seren would never get over. And it all came from Steve.

Seren gripped her pendant tightly. "I can't wait to see you..." she said quieter but with even more feeling behind it. It had been too long since she last saw Steve. Two years, to be exact. And on the worst conditions.

"Me too," Steve agreed, nearly sighing. He couldn't remember feeling this giddy about something in such a long, long time. He would get to see Seren, touch her...

But as friends, he had to remind himself. It was what they agreed on the last time they saw each other because each one had things to do for their work, for themselves. And back then, it seemed like it would be ages before they saw each other again.

Steve swallowed hard. Even if nothing changed between them, he would be grateful for the opportunity to see Seren again. Seren once said that it would be too painful to have each other and not be able to touch each other but now he knew that it wasn't the worst thing in life. No. The worst thing in life was not being together. Not being together was a whole other level of pain. He learned that the hard way.

"I gotta go. Lots of planning to do, make sure to tell the others they're invited please!" Seren said. "I may not have a lot of time to do it all, you know?"

"Of course! See you soon, Seren." It was such an odd thing to say and even then Steve couldn't quite believe it was actually real.

"Bye Steve," Seren hung up but only after forcing herself too. The quicker she got things done, the quicker the weekend would come.

Steve slowly pulled his phone from his ear and took a moment for himself. He had to be very careful right now because if he didn't, he might get his hopes up for something that wouldn't happen. But how couldn't he? Seren was coming back and even if it was just for a few days (and a promise of uncertainty for the future) he was happy.

"Special lady?" Sam thought he was getting closer on these guesses judging by the look on Steve's face.

Steve had turned sideways, almost feeling guilty for forgetting that Sam was still around. He often lost his train of thought when Seren was around. "Uh, something like that." That would be yet another understatement.

Sam laughed. "Yeah." He may have finally gotten a guess correctly.

The next time Steve's phone buzzed it was because of a text from Natasha.

'Mission alert. Extraction imminent. Meet at the curb. :)'

"Alright, Sam, duty calls," Steve tucked the phone into his back pocket. "Thanks for the run. If that's what you wanna call running." He did the polite thing and shook hands with Sam. He actually really did like the man.

Sam laughed at the jab. "Oh, that's how it is?"

"Oh, that's how it is," Steve nodded.

"Okay. Any time you wanna stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

Steve playfully rolled his eyes at Sam. "I'll keep it in mind." He turned to leave in time for Natasha to pull up on the curb. He came to recognize her favorite SHIELD car a long time ago so when she rolled the windows down, he automatically skipped over her smirk.

"Hey, fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." She specifically smirked at Steve — it was her favorite joke.

"That's hilarious," he said with another roll of his eyes as he walked up to the car. Natasha certainly thought it was funny. Even Chloe did too—although that could be because she'd helped Natasha come up with that and about a dozen other jokes about Steve.

"How you doing?" Sam had caught a look of Natasha and couldn't help himself from smiling just a tad smugly.

Natasha returned the favor even when Steve got in the way getting into the car. "Hey," she greeted.

"Can't run everywhere," Steve remarked once he was comfortable in the passenger's seat.

Sam shook his head. "No, you can't."

Natasha soon drove away. "Get ahold of Winters, will you? I've been trying to call her but she won't pick up."

"Mm, she'll be a while." Steve's face turned grim which gave Natasha all the indication of where Chloe was.

"She's going to miss the debriefing," she gave a light shake of her head.

"She'll be fine." Steve had no doubt of it.

Chloe's Hive Mind allowed her to gain the knowledge she needed in an instant. It was an odd thing to see but after 2 years of knowing her, Steve was used to it. In the beginning, it would freak him out whenever she blurted out bits of information, or when her eyes would go blue and she herself would basically dissociate from the moment. She would sometimes go into such a state for minutes, sometimes an hour, and according to her it was perfectly fine. She assured Steve many times that it was the way that she would go into the Hive Mind to get information or even try to speak with the aliens.

~ 0 ~

Chloe laid perfectly still on a medical bed as a machine hovered over her, scanning her from head to toe with an annoying, blinding light. Behind the safety window, Tony Stark and Dr. Helen Cho monitored the procedure.

"Feel anything different, Megamind?" Tony's voice rang through the speakers. If she could have, Chloe would've rolled her eyes at him.

"Please don't disturb my patient," Dr. Helen Cho warned him for the third time already.

"Your patient?" scoffed Tony. "I have rights."

"Over Miss Winters? I think not." Helen focused on the results she was getting on her screens. Whenever it came to the case of Chloe Winters, she was extremely fascinated. "If we give her the chance, she might get us."

Tony paused at the new tense in Helen's voice. Even though she didn't say it, Tony knew she had found something.

As usual, when the exams were over, Chloe met Tony and Helen in the former's office. In the beginning, when Tony had first convinced Chloe to let him help her, she was completely on the defensive side about Dr. Cho. She had no idea who the woman was, much less why she had been called in.

"Tony, I told you that nobody could know about this!" Chloe paced back and forth in Tony's office. "God, not even Seren knows about this and you went ahead and called some stranger to come look at me like I'm a lab rat!"

For all the yelling Chloe was doing, Tony sat calmly at his desk, feet propped up. "Hey, I know who I call and she—" he pointed at nothing in particular, "—is good at what she does. Magnificent really, and I don't throw that word out so easily, you know."

Chloe rolled her eyes and stopped pacing to face the man. "Tony! You said you would take this seriously!"

"And I am. Helen Cho is at the top of her career and she's done some pretty good work on some of my creations. I trust her and because I do, you should too."

"Oh, so you just automatically believe that I trust you then?"

Tony smirked. "If you didn't, we wouldn't be here." He pulled his feet off the desk and stood up then began moving around the desk. "Look, Dr. Cho is here to help me run some exams on you. I need to know exactly what that—" he tapped her temple, "—little Hive Mind of yours is."

"I know what it is," Chloe muttered and pushed his hand away from her. "It's an entire alien race living in my head."

"And see, 'alien' is what makes this so much more complex. Besides, you know that's not exactly true. You're part of a Hive Mind but the aliens you're connected to don't live in your head. They live on some other planet in some other part of the galaxy. I need help and so do you. Trust me, Chloe." Tony set his hands on Chloe's shoulders. "For all my jokes, I am here to help."

Chloe pursed her lips together. Help. She was in dire need of it.

Trusting Tony Stark was one of the biggest leaps of Chloe's life and that was saying something considering everything else she had done prior. But, to his credit, he'd been right. Helen Cho was one of the most trustworthy people Chloe had ever met. And she was overly kind as well.

"Chloe, you mentioned there was something new recurring in your dreams…?" Helen was starting off gently and cautious.

Chloe was too tired to act stoic. She plopped down in one of the chairs opposite of Helen and Tony. "Dreams would mean that I actually got to sleep," she huffed. "I do no such thing lately. I'm not sleeping because every time I do, my mind starts going crazy."

"But that's never been new, right?" Tony raised an eyebrow at her. "I seem to recall you mentioning that in the beginning of all this. Sometimes you sleep, sometimes you don't because those aliens are talking to you."

"They don't talk to me as much as they overwhelm me," Chloe corrected. "But lately, it's been getting worse. Usually, they don't specifically talk to me — it's typically me overhearing the conversations these creatures have amongst themselves — but nowadays they're talking to me. It's not one, it's not two...it's a lot of them. And they're telling me similar things. 'You are ready. Be ready.'"

Chloe got the faint idea that Helen seemed to know something about it. The doctor was quite fidgety.

"I did see higher levels of energy signatures in your body," she started. "And when did you say this started exactly? As close as you can get to the date."

Chloe saw absolutely no point but she assumed that Helen had to. With a sigh, she thought back to the very first night she heard the message. Be ready. "Um...I think...it started last month. Right before I visited Brazil."

"Brazil?" Tony repeated and Chloe nodded. "Wasn't that a few days after your birthday?"

"Yeah, my 25th," Chloe shrugged. Her eyes flickered to Helen. "Why?"

"There's a theory that may...may coincide with what's happening here," she said. "But, because this is all brand new — aliens — it's just a theory."

"Lay it on me, doctor," Chloe motioned for the whole story to come out. "All of it." Helen smiled. She would never point out that Chloe shared some similarities with Tony. It was simply too funny.

"It's been said that a female's brain stops maturing at the age of 25. Some say it's at 21 but most agree that in the 25th year of life, the rational side of the brain has reached maturity. If you're saying that these messages started only a couple days after your 25th birthday, it could mean that these creatures detected it and have finally agreed to make contact with you—"

"Because in their creepy alien eyes, I'm an adult now?" Chloe shuddered. She'd never seen these creatures that were part of her mind and she wasn't all that interested in ever seeing them. She imagined they were...creepy.

"It could be a matter of different customs," Helen said and suddenly Tony was snorting.

"They're aliens!" he reminded.

"Who have their own lives and customs," went Helen. "Just like we do. In the U.S., an 18 year old is considered an adult and given full autonomy over their life. For these creatures, it could be the 25th year of their life. A Celessian is marked as an adult at the age of 21..."

Chloe's expression fell flat. "Of course you'd throw that one in." She pushed her hair out of her face. "Okay, so let's say that this is true and that because I turned 25, these aliens are now willingly talking to me?" Helen nodded. "But they're saying weird stuff to me. They're...they're telling me that I'm ready! And in English. Do you know how hard it's been getting them to speak to me in my own language? They've never even told me what they're called!"

"Another confirmation they're aware of your full maturity."

"I don't know about 'maturity'," Tony smirked at Chloe who glared in return.

"Rich coming from you," she retorted. "Seren always liked to say that I'm psychic but the truth is that the numbers I had weren't from me — it was the aliens. They've always fed me numbers and statistics."

"And how's that recently changed?" Helen moved around the desk with widened, fascinated eyes.

"Yeah, are you psychic now?" Tony grinned.

Chloe sighed. "Shut up...but maybe, I don't know. The numbers are coming from my head now. They're saying it but they're getting the numbers from me. My brain's the one coming up with the numbers. I can feel it."

"Absolutely fascinating," Helen whispered. "You've shown extensive progress on psychic shielding…"

"Yes, because enemies will be eager to try to fight me with mental weapons," Chloe said with a sarcastic smile.

"Hey," Tony pointed a finger at her. "You're able to fight off mental intrusions for a lot longer than when we started."

"Mhm, and your psionic blasts," Helen reminded. "The amount of energy you're able to create is off the charts."

"When I don't blast myself in the process," Chloe pointed out. It was still a work in progress but she would admit that it had gotten better in the last months. "Look, you've both been a lot of help to me. Do we have any idea what's going to happen to me now?"

Helen shrugged lightly. "I have another theory: precognition. With more studies and certainly more training, this could be the beginning of your ability to perceive future events."

"Ah, so a true psychic." Chloe's first thoughts went to Seren's grandmother, Atria Dade, who was a well known psychic amongst S.H.I.E.L.D. It was never ideal to tell what was going to happen in the future. "Yeah, I don't want that. It's all fun and jokes but I really don't want to be a bigger freak than what I already am."

"Miss Winters—"

"Thanks for everything guys," Chloe got up from her chair quickly. She pulled out her phone to see several missed calls from Natasha and later Steve. "S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me anyways." She turned to leave in a hasty sprint, ignoring Helen's calls for her to wait. She was just a fool to believe that Tony would let her leave like that.

"Open the damn door, Stark," Chloe huffed at the locked entrance doors. JARVIS had been instructed to lock it until otherwise stated.

"I will just after you calm down."

Chloe spun around to meet the man's gaze. Her face was red from how unsettled she was. "I am always calm, Tony. It's how I've trained myself to be after that stupid day I touched the freaky alien tech now lodged in my head!"

Tony had to force her hands from her head lest he want to treat some head injury. She tended to hit herself whenever the situation got to be too much. "Hey, stop!"

Chloe took in a shaky breath. "I don't need to learn that now I'm also going to become a damn psychic too."

"Well...how bad could it really be?" Tony's nudging smile wasn't going to work on her this time.

"I don't want to see what's going to happen." She levelled with him. "I know Atria Dade and I know that she's seen some of our agents dying and you know what? She can't change it because the future is always changing. I don't want it, Tony, I don't. I can't...I wouldn't be able to handle it." There were tears welling in her eyes the more she thought about it.

"Okay, okay, hear this then…" Ton set his hands on her shoulders. "If this power were to develop into...that...maybe Helen and I could come up with some sort of inhibitor."

Chloe swallowed hard. "Really?"

"Yeah, hell of a challenge I'd be up for." He certainly looked the part which was what gave Chloe a little hope that things wouldn't turn out to be so bad.

"You'd do that for me?"

"You and me, Megamind," Tony held a fist for her to pump. She rolled her eyes and pushed it down.

"You jerk."

Tony smiled and clapped her shoulders. "Alright, you go and help S.H.I.E.L.D. and whatnot while Helen and I do the real work."

Chloe smiled lightly at the man. "Thanks Tony. Seriously. I know I yell and complain a lot but...thanks for everything."

"You can always trust me." He left the 'and not trust S.H.I.E.L.D.' part out. He had made that line very clear the first time they met to discuss their plans but no matter what, Chloe was like Seren: they had endless trust in that organization. It was a shame that they pulled Steve with them.

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pearblossommina · 1 year

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ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, day 5

Ch 35

Oh, my god, the Rowaelin reunion. YOU GUYS. I love him. 🥺

“And if Maeve meant to bring that army to Terrasen, to either unite with Erawan or simply be another force battering their kingdom, to strike when they were weakest, they had to hurry. Had to get back. Immediately. His mate's eves shone with the same understanding and dread.”

Yeah. What IS she planning? She wants to take over the world, right? Not with Erawan. She wants to rule on her own, and she likes this world, the delights of it, vs Erawan who is all doom and gloom and bent on conquering and making the world terrible. Not saying Maeve isn’t a vile and awful monster - who needs to be dealt with - but as far as the two of them go, Erawan is the bigger threat to their lives and the planet as a whole. Maeve can kinda just chill on a continent across the sea and rule as if she’s a fae queen and be on her own for a thousand years.

Ch 36

Slow boat ride through a dark cavern with glow worm lanterns and spooky little folk as your guides

Elide! When are you gonna make up with Lorcan, he said he was sorry. He’s atoned. C’mon.

Ch 37

“He clenched his teeth. This was where they'd have it out, then. "How much longer am I supposed to atone?"”

Lol it’s just like I said!!! I mean, Elide, c’mon! It’s fine to break up if you don’t actually want to be together. But I see no sense in drawing out this fight! You’re all together now, you’re in this with the good guys, and he cares about you, and you care about him, and why are we fighting? There are bigger things at play, here.

Aww www the scene with the wedding rings. How perfectly Rowaelin. I love how he wanted to wear the ring with the emerald. Rowan you’re the cutest.

Ch 38

Have you ever played Undertale! The “stars” that are actually glow worms and a reflection on black water deeply reminds me of the Waterfall level in Undertale

Ch 39

So I wanna know. Is Father Westfall gonna turn out to be a good dude? He seems kinda like he might be working on trying to redeem himself. I CAN’T TELL ANYMORE, lol, who’s still bad?

Yrene take your contraceptive tea you dummy! So irresponsible, smh (I guess it’s too late now)(but it’s such a bad time for an unplanned pregnancy NOW when the whole world is at stake and there’s nothing but battle and war and sadness on the horizon!) (and your LIFE FORCE is tied to HIS LIFE FORCE) (lol girl - I wish you had thought ahead at all) (I mean I guess Chaol is also partially to blame here) (god you two are both so irresponsible - how could you)

Ch 40

Idk what’s going on with these two.

Like, yeah, sure, Manon, you should really try and turn all the Ironteeth witches to your side, but you’ve been kinda ruthless IN THIS BOOK even, and y’know… just be careful, I guess. I guess I want to see her do it - but I’m not sure.

And then there’s Dorian, ugh, what the heck are you doing??? Is every romance just gonna break up, I’m just…. Frustrated, lol. I get it. Wyrdkeys are *also important* and you are *also capable* but you don’t gotta do everything by yourself.

I’m just frustrated in general right now. This book’s really long. I can’t figure out where we are in the structure of the story. I still feel like not…. Much…. Has happened, yet. And I’m growing anxious, because I feel like super big things need to happen before the end… yeah, idk!

I believe in you, Dorian. I know you can do it. I believe in you, Manon. I know you can do it too! I just don’t have time for this breakup, lol.

Ch 41

*sigh* I just love Rowaelin. They went through a lot to get here. My heart is so full.

Ch 42

You guys think Aedion is gonna be happy when he sees Aelin again - or is he gonna be righteously angry because she came home with two brand new blood oaths when she promised to make a blood path with him

(I think he’s probably over it, lol, he’ll probably just be happy that she’s not dead) (but idk, he can be kinda a pain in the butt about random things) (we love you Aedion)

I’m still struggling lol but hey I made it before midnight, so this is still technically day 5

(Gonna try to get my reading done earlier in the day tomorrow)

(No promises)

(Life - ya know!)

#tog read along 2023 #kingdom of ash

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martianbugsbunny · 2 years

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OUAT Thoughts Pt.69--Episodes 9-10

I have watched through S7E10; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—Oh, excuse me, it’s Drizella with a Z. Also, I think it’s kind of funny that two of these girls have names with Ella in them.

—So if I’m understanding this correctly, Drizella was a bit spoiled as a child, so her mother decided to hate her for the rest of her life. Okay. Sounds reasonable.

—The heart-shaped bodice on Cecilia’s dress was gorgeous.

—Little Cinderella’s dress was cute, too.

—Oooooh, lavender lemonade! That’s the good stuff, let me tell you. There’s barely a tastier beverage to be found.

—This may just be the most complicated family situation any Cinderella story has ever had.

—Oh, boo, it’s less fun when Hook isn’t calling Rumple “crocodile” at every turn.

—Kay so these witches are much creepier than most things that have appeared on this show. Ngl, proper witchy stuff freaks me out, and these ladies were specifically designed to do that, so…not living large right now.

—Not complaining about seeing Rumple in one of those delightful red robes again, but him regressing is sad. And he apparently gives, like, zero sh*ts about being alive, which isn’t surprising because his current goal is literally to die.

—I know I said this recently, but he keeps on upping the ante: Just when I think I can’t possibly love Hook any more, he proves me wrong. He gave up the knowledge that Alice is his daughter, gave up the relationship that he’s been searching for for years, to give Lucy a chance at having her mother in her life. Killian Jones is the most beautiful man alive and I would die for him.

—Rolling Bayou is the perfect name for the food truck and I one hundred percent believe that Tiana’s the one who came up with it. And it’s even starting to look like an actual food truck!

—Y’all, watching Henry almost die, and knowing that if the curse is broken he has to die, is terribly upsetting.

—I would like to rip my brain from my head and hurl it across the room. Even the writers have given up on establishing a timeline—which, to be honest, is hilarious to me. But fr, Henry is possibly somewhere in his thirties, Robin is twenty-five, Alice is still indeterminate, and nobody else has apparently aged? What kinda looney is this?

—I’d love to know what hijinks happened in the eight years between Drizella being statue-d and Drizella being un-statue-d. Regina knew Rumple was in that world, so he obviously wasn’t keeping too low a profile. How long has he been crazy? Why is Henry’s buddy still living with them? Where was Lady Tremaine that whole time?

—I go wild whenever Regina wears her regal clothes, but her wearing that cute little scarf in her hair when she went to Zelena clobbered me. She’s so pretty.

—Of all the things Zelena might’ve done in her cursed life, I would not have guessed cycling instructor. Interior design lady, maybe. Personal shopper, yes. Not cycling instructor.

—I love that Robin is an archer. I don’t care if it’s the most obvious thing ever, it’s perfect.

—Also, ROBIN AND ALICE? *inhuman screeching* I didn’t only get Alice being a dumbass lesbian, I got Alice with an actual girlfriend that she’s actually in love with and they actually exchanged promises to know each other even when they didn’t know each other like any other couple would and I CAN’T EVEN! And, you know what, the daughter of Zelena and Robin Hood being lesbian simply *slaps*

—If I ever shut up about this, I am dead. Ain’t no other option.

—*Also again* Rumple cowering with the lesbians in the face of the Dark Curse tracks. Rumple seems to collect wlw vibe ladies, I swear. (Autocorrect wants to change wlw to wow, which is yes. Lesbians rock.)

—My mom and I just watched Zelena, the Charmings, Regina, and Hook’s songs from the musical episode again and damn is Hook a fine singer. Once again, that bar is mighty high.

—I adore Rumple and Hook for being willing to work together. Hook pushes Rumple for the truth, gets it (which is a big deal in itself), offers to help, and Rumple actually accepts. Once again, it shows how much he’s been changed by Belle’s death, but it’s cool anyway.

—And I love that as soon as he realized Lucy was in trouble, Rumple went into protective great-granddad mode.

—Noah Fence, but I think Drizella’s power level (before her magic was thieved) was bogus. It’s established canon *as if I ever really cared about that?* that it takes years of training to get magical people to the level of control and ability that she exhibits, apparently after a single afternoon hanging out with Regina. Baloney.

#once upon a time #ouat #drizella #drizella with a z #cinderella #Captain Hook #rumplestiltskin #zelena #regina mills #Lucy #robin #Alice jones #Alice #robin x Alice #Henry mills-swan #martianbugsbunny reviews

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bisluthq · 2 months

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Because it’s very possible that the general sequence of events that “Joe is boring/sucks/doesn’t want to marry me and so, I turn to other man” was actually “I want other man and emotionally check out in a major way, Joe becomes isolated and relationship breaks down”. I don’t think the timing of when she started to interact with MH again (fall/winter 2021 is seemingly when Jack worked on their album) also being the exact same time their relationship started to have serious problems is a coincidence at all. It’s almost like when you’re seriously interested in someone else, that eventually wins out and your relationship struggles and you start to find faults in your partner that you didn’t before. And she actually pretty much says this herself, that this other person merely telling her they’ve “always wondered” tore her world apart. As in, that was the catalyst. not Joe being sucky, but the other person expressing an interest.

Ehhhh tomatoh tmahto imo. She wasn’t that into him anymore. That was because of annoying shit TO HER that he did lol (and maybe she told him and maybe she didn’t idk I wasn’t there and the lyrics don’t say anything either way). Point is like she wasn’t that interested in him anymore, she was bored with him, and she wanted to try again with her ex (and this didn’t work out for her). That’s largely what happened. Obviously for her - without a great deal of therapy and like thinking about this stuff which imo she would never do - it’s because he was boring and she wanted the not boring option? I don’t really understand what you’re quibbling about. Obviously he thinks it was her fault it fucked out (implied in his interview, implied in SLL tbh) but obviously she disagrees? People have different takes on things that happen to them even if both people are involved in the situation like everyone is operating from their own position and POV right like that might not/probably isn’t shared with anyone else???

we have these friends - and I know I always story time but it’s how I understand life right like through stuff that happens to me or my friends - where they broke up last august and he only moved out start of this month. They had/she now has a 2 br place so he just moved into the spare room and they stayed living together but like it was MAD WEIRD like sometimes they’d fuck (not often) and mostly they’d just be besties and flatmates which like fair because property is expensive and besties are hard to find so they were doing this weird thing for literally almost a year. Now he’s finally moved out and he won’t tell her or any of their mutuals (so us too) where he’s living so my bf and I, who are kinda cowboys lbr, are like “so he has a girl he’s living with/is very seriously seeing” because WE see no other reason for the secrecy. But here’s the thing: from her perspective she tried many times to fix it and from his perspective he tried many times to fix it and we know this because they’ve told each of us individually and us as a couple and also like we’ve conveyed that to the other person like I told the guy like “she doesn’t want you to leave” and my bf told the girl “he doesn’t want to leave” because as far as we know, they didn’t want that and did love each other but like their communication skills were and are so terrible with one another and they’re both SO WEIRD that now he’s off living somewhere else with what Mr Bislut and I assume is a new gf and she’s in their old place and ostensibly happy he’s gone but in practice phoning me like every other night crying (she called me once even when I was in hospital, pre him moving out, and I was like “dude people think I OD’d and I’m in hospital I really cannot counsel you through this right now”) and idk man maybe they could’ve fixed stuff and maybe they couldn’t have because I’m not an oracle but I do know they didn’t fix anything ever.

I also know a lot of stuff that upsets her is silly like she loves to compare my rs to theirs and say shit like “but you guys do weekends away and went to Europe and he never takes me anywhere!” (and that’s a bad takeaway from us because he actually doesn’t take me many places - I pay for our weekends away when I can afford to and he drives and Europe like he paid flights and accommodation and I covered food and entertainment so he’s not “taking me” places like we “go places” sometimes when we can afford it and haven’t had a month of health issues) and like “but he’s introduced you to his whole family and you’ve introduced him to yours and my one’s embarrassed of me” (which like the first part is true but it’s also different because we’re both childless creative professionals and her ex is a divorced dad with two teens on the spectrum - who he did introduce her to - and that was his second marriage so idk introducing gfs isn’t the walk in the park for him it might be for other people) etc etc etc. I don’t think she should be comparing their thing with ours because ours is also complex (age gap etc) but like we make it work because we work on it? Anyway.

moral of the story being, people are complicated and we are all very unreliable narrators of our own lives? Ergo so is Taylor? Ergo so is Joe (not that we publicly know his perspective but just saying)? Like they’re limited by being yk human people living their lives and not scripted characters??????

I don’t think Taylor’s lying from her perspective and I think expecting her to offer more depth to it would deny her her humanity tbh. She’s allowed to be human.

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pwnyta · 2 months

Text

PART 2!

Genshin character Judgement after all these years of playing. I will judge looks, personality, and say my favorite voice! Starting with 4-stars, alphabetical order.

(under the cut)

Aside from his goofy ass shoes I really like Sethos' design! His personality too is pretty great... I do not have him tho. How upsetting (tho I guess I wouldnt be using him as he is a bow DPS so it doesnt actually matter LMAO) His color palate is very fun and i really like his acid green eyes. I wish he had a dark skin tone tho.

His EN voice is definitely my favorite. The VA reminds me a lot of Ittos where hes just so animated and fun. Sethos' AHH ITS A MONSTER chest opening line is SO fucking funny. Love him. His KN voice is kinda weird.

Oh Kuki... her design is SO fun. The color palate is so standout. The fact she is the straight-man only female character in a group of goofy dudes trope is so lame. I hate that trope so much it prevents me from liking her as much as I would have... sorry babe its not your fault.

All her voices are good. I have no strong opinions just like her personality.

OOH BABYGIRL. Shes so cute. Her personality really shined in the Windblume festival with Sucrose. It was so lovely. Ive always loved Sucrose but that really justified it for me. I also surprisingly really like the navy with her seafoam green hair and gold eyes. its a little weird but fun!

I really like the voices besides the JP which sounds a little too baby to me but my favorite is the EN. I like that its somewhat whispery and soft spoken but also very earnest. It really displays the character well.

Whenever I look at him I think 'I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE' Goofy ass design. His shoes... ya know I just noticed how weird they are... why did they even bother to open the toe if they were just gonna cover them anyways.... GOOFY ASS DESIGN. Personality tho? S TIER. Good lad. I thought hed be like Childe cuz they look so much alike.... and thats kinda true. Thoma is like Childe if Childe didnt have rabies ya know? LMAO

I like all his voices except EN... not that EN is terrible but the others are just way better.

MY BABYGIRL. Xiangling is so god damn cute and normal in this fucked up magical world. This bitch is just a normal ass cook in a weird environment... it reminds me kinda like in a dream like you see weird shit around you but your dream self just sorta reacts to it like its some mundane thing... Like the fact Xiangling sees a massive Hydra about to destroy the city she is in and her first thought is 'I wonder what that tastes like' LIKE BITCH WHAT!? LMAO... I love her. Wacky ass broad.

All her voices are pretty great. I like her CN VA best.

Oh Xingqiu... hes either a proper upstanding young man... or a troll. It can go either way. Technically hes probably my least favorite Liyue-born character... but I still like him. I really like he design too. Even tho the shorts are kinda goofy. He did get a costume but it just looks like a shittier version of Furis so I dont use it.

All his voices are pretty good. I have no preference.

MY BABIEST GIRL. I love Xinyan. Her design (somewhat detached sleeves aside) and her personality are both S tier. I do think her lore is pretty funny tho... because its like 'People dont like Xinyan because of her nontraditional styles of music and fashion!!!' but every character in game falls in love with her instantly... LMAO Which??? Fair. Shes truly lovely but Id actually LIKE to see her struggle against the prejudice she supposedly receives. Fingers crossed for a hangout event!

Her JP and KN voices are my favorite! theyre very fun. Her EN voice was certainly a choice... heres what I think happened... She has the same VA as Barbara and Barbaras early voice sounded more rough and raspy... I think when Xinyan was being voiced they must have realized the voice was similar to Barbaras early voice(which did not fit her) and didnt want to confuse the players so they gave her a weird accent. Now she sounds like Applejack. LMAO Weird ass choice. They could never get me to hate you tho Xinyan.

Yanfei.... I love you but your design is a lot like Chevs and Kirara sexy at the expense of good design. Although unlike them I like most of the elements of your design. or maybe rather I like the accessories? Even the detached sleeves! But the main outfit is so fucking lame its crazy.

Her EN and JP voices are best for me. IDKY she sounds so baby in CN and KR... a rare L for the CN VA casting director.

OOOH MY BABY YAOYAO. Her design was a leaked SO long ago and I anxiously waited for her... shes so damn cute! I love her colors, overall design, the fact she acts like a grandma.... shes so cute. I love when babies act like adults (in a professional sense. like that Haribo commercial where theyre dressed in business outfits talking about gummibears... its so fucking cute and funny. Shes like that.) She also has a very fun kit! And i C6d her so easily! Blessed.

All her voices are pretty good. CN is my favorite.

ANOTHER BABYGIRL. Liyue is so full of babygirls. The nation of babygirls fr. The only thing I DONT like about her is how she reminds me that the HYV team can do really great work showing the culture which the nations are inspired by but they dont even do HALF as well with Sumeru or Natlan despite those regions having so much good cultural aesthetic to work with. SMDH. Yun Jin is gorgeous and she has a very cute personality. I love that shes besties with Xinyan. thats so damn cute.

Appropriately I love the CN voice the most but all of them are pretty good.

---

NOW IDK the star-rating or VAs for the Natlan cast so Im just judging that these are 4-stars. I THINK Kachina has been confirmed 4-star.

Kachina has a VERY cute design I think based on the PIKA or some volcano rabbit I forgot what people were saying. I wish they went with a different color palate overall but she is very cute.

Iansan also has a really nice design overall. I like the goldenrod & orange color with the purple (like with Sethos) however they did change the vibe of her from the old trailer. She seems much more subdued now and they made her skull accessory more cutesy. Shame. But still... how many white hair elf babies do we need?

Citlali is probably one of my least favorite designs. I do like the colors... but other than that. Her personality also seems kinda annoying tsundere-ish which means she'll be insufferably popular cuz god forbid weebs have taste.

Ugh... gross. The more i look at Chascas design the less I like it. if shes not a 4-star I'll be surprised.

I had such high hopes for Natlan man....

#GI tag.

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snonkerdoodlewritesstuff · 10 months

Text

Tuesday

Summary: Original work about suicide. 1st person POV. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND MENTIONS OF TRAUMA.

A/N: this is a story i've been wanting to write for a long time. it's kinda based off me buut also not. just wanted to put it out into the world because i wanted to write a story about suicide. i've had all kinds of thoughts in the past. the quote is inspired by a teacher of mind who said, "Drink some mountain dew. It'll solve all your problems." This is where my mind went immediately after reading that. The song I played on loop while writing this is called Memory Reboot by Narvent. Again, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, AND MENTIONS OF TRAUMA.

Drink some Mountain Dew. It’ll solve all your problems.

I can’t remember when all life became like this. Sometimes I wish I was five again, when the only thing I had to worry about was the movie Planes and daydreaming in peace. Playing with people. Being able to interact with them normally, before all of this social anxiety set in. I think I was the happiest back then. Everyone says ignorance is bliss like that’s a bad thing but honestly knowledge is a burden. I wish I didn’t know that the way everything was for me was abnormal, because that caused all the problems I have now.

But even I know that being five can’t fix some things that I know. Nothing can fix that, not if I was 5, or 45, or 85. Even so, I still wish I was five. There wasn’t as much to worry about back then. Life felt more normal, even though it wasn’t. I didn’t have any responsibilities, or burdens of knowledge, or fears or just fucked-up things about myself that bring me down like they do now.

I don’t care that I used to feel scared when I was alone. I always forgot, I think. Eventually. Now I don’t care but it stays with me and taints my soul more every single time. And I know that back then, it laid the foundations. But I don’t care, because I didn’t remember it so well the next day.

I’m so much older now and in shambles over what I am now. Too much knowledge, too many problems, too many responsibilities, too terrible to be good. The only way to rid oneself of this pain is to be free of it.

_*_*_*_

I knew that the last time I had practiced or even touched my cello was yesterday. I didn’t care for the school rentals much–just cared if I got the good sounding one instead of the crappy one. The one at home, however, was my pride and joy–before I went numb, of course. She was a good girl; I would miss her. But there’ll be better cellos in Heaven, I suppose. It would feel better playing them too, when I’m free of my emotional burdens.

I know I accepted what would happen to me just a few years ago. Either continue in this forsaken life, or let it all go. It stopped scaring me that much at some point. The punishment for straying away is the wrath when it all comes out. The more you do, the more there is to hide, and then more comes out when it eventually does. There isn’t a point to hide all of your sins and labor uselessly when you could escape to a better place where the shit won’t get to you.

_*_*_*_

This, of course, is my master plan. I knew there were a thousand ways to go, but I had to settle on one. No firearms, of course. Wouldn’t be able to buy those, or fire them. Drowning? Where would the pool be? That would be too painful. Hanging? Again, too painful. Also, too scary. I wanted to do something that would be familiar and not so terrifying that I stopped midway.

Drinking a can of soda is an extremely normal act, even when it has poison in it. Just a quick Google search revealed a toxin acting in 15-30 minutes that left little to no chance of survival. Just what I needed. I could take it during the school’s free period–nobody would be the wiser because it was now my custom to nap during that time anyway. Better thing–it was flavorless, so I couldn’t even know if it was poisoned or not. To everyone–and myself–I was drinking Mountain Dew, and then preparing for a good, long nap.

And so I closed my eyes, and everything was going black.

_*_*_*_

“Eww, what the fuck is that smell?” my friend asked.

The group looked up–it seemed to be coming from me. It smelled like a mixture of pee and poo.

“Dude–DUDE, wake up!” She screamed to me. Of course, my body did not respond.

“Why aren’t you waking the fuck up?” She asked. Another friend went to go get a teacher.

Then somebody must have noticed that I wasn’t breathing. They reached out a hand to my neck. Felt for a pulse…nothing.

“Oh my god. She’s DEAD!”

_*_*_*_

A/N: and that's the end. Thank you for choosing to read this--I'd love to hear your thoughts in the replies/reblogs and stuff.

#original work #fm221b #ao3 #fiction #short story #tw suicide #tw suicidal ideation #tw abuse

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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1kook · 4 years

Text

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming.

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education).

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way.

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms.

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries.

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable.

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows.

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.”

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum.

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close.

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed.

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin.

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone.

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress.

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt.

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite.

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up.

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks.

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.

It’s your turn to mope.

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand.

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses.

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh.

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels.

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad.

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down.

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome.

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities.

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about.

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest.

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover.

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.”

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee.

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite.

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now.

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.”

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold.

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes.

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon.

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her.

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown.

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead.

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear.

It’s the hardest thing about parenting.

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is.

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show.

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years.

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight.

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now.

A second later, “lemme join.”

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick.

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.”

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions.

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit.

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky.

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home.

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts.

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now.

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back.

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice.

Then, and apparently, now.

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck.

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together.

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper.

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt.

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time.

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips.

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you.

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long.

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body.

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him.

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line.

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could.

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you.

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist.

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore?

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?”

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it.

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you.

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat.

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt.

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time.

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully.

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole.

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything.

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure.

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time.

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone.

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped.

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas.

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever.

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling.

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence.

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out.

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach.

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys.

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever.

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.”

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer.

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off.

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific.

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position.

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you.

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds.

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him.

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt.

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip.

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh.

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you.

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace.

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out.

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you.

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones.

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year.

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace.

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—”

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well.

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway.

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy.

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news.

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you.

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

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