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hansolmates · 3 years

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one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

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“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.”

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events.

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong.

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit.

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines.

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door.

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel.

“Name?”

“Xu Minghao.”

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go.

“Name?”

“Chou Tzuyu.”

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?”

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?”

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you.

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!”

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?”

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad.

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time.

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.”

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city.

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?”

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.”

“Oh please—” you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion.

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest.

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…”

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier.

You and Jungkook used to fool around.

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square.

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities.

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed.

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week.

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof.

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax.

It’s going to be a long week.

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉 have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself.

Your phone rings once more.

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our room? Plsssssss

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth.

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position.

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret.

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.”

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse.

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby.

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink.

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook.

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite.

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form.

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall.

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?”

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.”

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in.

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric.

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship.

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual.

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?”

“Dumb things.”

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.”

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.”

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.”

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?”

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.”

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time.

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?”

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake.

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.”

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.”

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?”

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand.

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort.

“I don’t want her,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—”

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—”

“You’re deflecting, again.”

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.”

“I'm not going anywhere this time.”

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?”

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more.

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?”

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?”

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.”

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end.

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self.

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?”

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.”

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later.

“A date,” she twitches, “with who?”

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall.

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves.

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?”

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?”

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!”

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.”

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?”

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.”

“Consider yourself taken.”

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop.

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese.

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world.

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun.

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional.

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that.

But Tzuyu? She irritating.

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away.

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week?

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?”

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy.

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing.

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again?

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd.

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby.

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago.

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk.

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week.

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—”

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled.

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.”

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.”

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms.

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside.

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed.

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.”

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—”

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin.

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.”

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips.

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush.

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.”

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness.

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions.

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist.

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass.

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact.

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up.

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.”

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.”

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.”

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you.

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be.

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout.

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!”

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?”

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.”

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him.

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?”

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room.

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination.

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.”

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless.

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you.

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.”

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up."

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!”

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest.

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.”

bonus.

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat.

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible.

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body.

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?"

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad."

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry."

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough."

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts fic

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cobaincreates · 3 years

Text

touch pt. 2

warnings: smut (surprise), oral (female receiving), 18+, language, literally no plot & i’m not sorry

count: 3k+

part two part two part two baby! thanks for all the love on the first! ✨taglist is open✨ i’m smoochin’ all your faces

— — —

sarah bustled around her room like it was on fire. her clothes were thrown messily on her floor and she had half of her hair up in a crazy-looking bun. you laughed from where you snuggled into her pillow. you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, having woken up to the closet doors groaning open.

“oh my god, where the hell did i put them?” sarah said, but you knew she wasn’t asking you in particular. her hands dug through a basket in her closet.

sitting up, you figured now was as good a time as any to get moving. with sarah leaving soon, you didn’t feel comfortable just lying in her bed like she insisted. given that you were best friends, and her house was your house, and vice versa, you jumped at the opportunity of leaving. she always offered the possibility of you staying longer than you wanted because she was a good friend.

which was why when you cleared your throat and tasted her brother, your cheeks lit up with a steady burning fire. you were glad her back was to you as she switched bikini tops, replacing the blue for the yellow. were you ashamed or reminiscing? there wasn’t time to think about it as she finished getting ready.

“you’re more than welcome to stay, you know. i feel bad running out on you.” sarah repeated once more.

“it’s fine. go have fun with john b and fill me in later.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her as you gathered your things and threw on your sweatshirt.

“how about we order some takeout and binge watch how to get away with murder next weekend?”

“that would be great.”

sarah beamed at you before leading you out of her room and down the stairs. you kept your eyes straight but noted the ajar door to rafe’s room. maybe he had already left for the day.

“morning!” rose chirped happily as you followed sarah into the kitchen. it all seemed very familiar as you walked in, even though you’d been in the cameron’s kitchen more times than you could count, but also because the last time had been less than six hours ago.

everybody was awake and doing something. wheezie was eating freezer waffles, ward had a few manila folders splayed in front of him on the table, and rose was cutting up oranges. sarah gave her a hug from behind as she passed and then turned to smack rafe’s back lightly as he cooked something on the stove.

you breathed in sharply at the sight of him. you blinked last night’s events away given that his entire family was right in front of you and now was not the time to think about it. you reminded yourself not to give anything away with your best friend in the same room. but you also wondered if rafe thought the same thing. would he try to hide it?

“you two sleep okay? i turned the air off since it was so nice out last night.” rose said.

you caught rafe’s eye when he looked over, that tiny jolt going up your arms. your feet melted into the floor and rose looked over at you with a sweet smile as sarah leaned on her other side.

“i was pretty comfortable,” sarah shrugged and took a slice of orange.

“you girls hungry? i’m sure rafe could make something up.”

“i’m going out with john b. he should be here in a few minutes.”

“y/n?” rose lifted her perfect brows as you stood at the end of the island, holding all of your things tightly.

“i’m actually going to head out,” you said. “thank you for the offer though.”

“aw, are you sure?” rose set down the knife on the cutting board. rafe glanced over his shoulder as the contents of the pan sizzled.

“yes. thank you though. i’ll see you guys again soon.” you hugged rose when she came toward you and you waved to sarah and the rest of the family at the table. you and rafe looked at each other once more before you walked out.

—

“oooh, look at these! i love these! how much?”

“12 dollars. they would go great with your top actually.”

“you’re so right! i’ll take them.”

the customer beamed at you as they handed over the set of sea glass earrings. you rang them up and returned some change before wrapping the jewelry in tissue paper and sealing it with the boutique’s sticker. you placed the wrapped gift carefully into a tiny reusable bag and handed it over.

“have a good day,” you smiled your noteworthy customer service smile and relaxed once they left, the front doorbell going off.

it wasn’t that you hated your job. but you hated your job. the main reason was that it was part time, and the second main reason was because you hated working in retail. it was exhausting having to put on a fake smile and answer stupid questions like whether or not you sold earrings when you literally worked in a jewelry store. it was tiring really, if only for four hours a day.

thankfully, you were due to clock out in about fifteen minutes and you couldn’t wait. you busied yourself with cleaning a few displays then restocking some with new styles your boss, the owner, had batched out the week before.

“hey, y/n,” you looked up at your co-worker coming through the front door. your shoulders tensed as the cheery doorbell went off, but the arrival of your co-worker was always a relief.

“did you dye your hair again?” you eyed their bright locks as they went behind the counter and situated themselves for the rest of the day.

“yup and i think i’ll stick with it for a while. you like?”

“it’s bright.” you tried to say it as politely as you could. “maybe you’ll bring in more customers.”

they laughed at your comment and disappeared into the back. you turned to the display and set a few necklaces down.

once you gathered your things and said goodbye to your boss in the back office, you waved to your co-worker and toned out the bell above your head as you left.

the main street where the boutique was was swarming like a beehive. it was tourist season after all and there was nothing better to do on the island than shop or laze around at the beach. the island was perfect since both activities didn’t require much travel.

you glanced into a few windows as you walked down the sidewalk, dodging a couple kids with heaping amounts of ice cream on a tiny cone. the sun beat down from above and it was a wonder that the ice cream hadn’t already melted down their wrists.

your ears perked up at the sound of a car horn and a second later a truck was pulling up right beside you. looking over curiously, you recognized the gray truck and the person behind the wheel. your stomach leaped.

“hey.” rafe called from his seat as you both came to a stop.

“hi.” you said, feeling frozen momentarily.

“do you want a ride?” he asked in a hopeful tone that you couldn’t stop thinking about once it left his mouth.

you hadn’t seen or heard from him in a couple days since your sleepover with sarah and a part of you didn’t think you’d talk to him again until you went back to his house. you thought it was weird that he didn’t text you or even call, but then you reminded yourself that he was your best friend’s brother, and she didn’t know about what had happened between you two. you wondered if she would be angry with you.

you thought about accepting his offer, seeing no real harm in it. it was only a fifteen-minute walk otherwise. but something drove you to say yes and before you knew it, you were grabbing ahold of the door handle.

“thanks.” you said as you settled into the passenger’s seat. he pulled away from the curb easily as you put your seatbelt on, listening for the satisfying click of the lock.

“you just get out of work?” he asked, making small talk.

“yeah.” you nodded and glanced at his arm. the vein taunted you as he reached out to fiddle with the radio. you shifted in your seat. “what were you doing?”

“i had to drop some stuff off at the post office for my dad and work. i saw you walking and figured i could offer you a ride. even though you don’t live far.” he said with a soft shrug.

“i appreciate it.” you said and looked out the rolled down window.

you watched the cement walkway disappear and turn into the fine sand along the shoulder of the road. houses started to litter the street instead of the businesses and storefronts. you could hear the sand under rafe’s tires and you closed your eyes for a moment to focus on the breeze. you opened them back up when you felt the ghost of rafe’s fingers in your hair.

looking away from the dusty shoulder, you set your gaze on the road stretched before you. rafe kept a lose hand on the very top of the wheel, his other resting in his lap. you swallowed and licked your lips.

“rafe?”

“yeah?”

willing yourself to look up at him, trying to act quickly before he reached your house, you stared at the side of his face. he glanced over quickly then back to the road.

“don’t bring me home.” you said in a small voice, hoping the question didn’t lead to rejection.

his eyes flicked to your face, his jaw flexing. “okay. where do you want to go?”

you let your gaze waver, wandering down his chin to his neck where he visibly swallowed. did you make him nervous?

“just somewhere private,” you said.

you wet your lips when he looked at you again, your eyes trailing from his neck to his face. your hands were itching to reach across and touch him, but they settled on fidgeting in your lap. when you looked out the windshield again, you saw your yellow front door pass by as rafe continued to drive. you took a deep breath in.

after a couple turns and the road turning into more sand, rafe pulled to a dead end in front of the marsh. the engine cut off with a turn of the ignition key and fizzled out to let the lapping water fill the car. you kept your eyes on the small bay ahead, spotting a dragonfly whizzing by over the water. letting the marsh sounds fill your ears, it seemed to calm your nerves.

you nervously glanced at rafe in the quiet cab of the truck. you wondered what was going through his head. he turned his eyes to you, letting them linger around your face. you swallowed.

giving a mental swift kick to your own rear, you looked over your shoulder into the back seat and unbuckled yourself. you slipped the strap of your bag off your shoulder and left it in the seat as you twisted and crawled over the console. rafe watched you, a dumbfounded smile making its way onto his lips.

you laughed when you saw it. “come on,” you patted to the seat beside you and scooted to the right so he’d have enough room.

rafe looked gigantic when he turned in his seat, bumping into the wheel and nearly pushing on the horn. you grinned as you watched him, the simple journey into the backseat seeming so wild. it felt like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be with someone your parents had warned you about. your parents loved rafe actually.

his knee bumped into yours once he was settled and situated. the space was too small for the two of you but you liked feeling his skin against yours. it also felt much more private than the open windows in the front.

looking over at rafe, you let your hand fall easily to his knee. he shifted his top half and closed most of the space between you, bringing an arm to rest atop the seat behind you. you breathed softly, trying not to show how fast your heart had started to thrum.

your eyes flicked down to rafe’s lips and you thought about how you didn’t know what they felt like.

“what are you thinking?” you asked as you licked your own lips.

rafe reached a hand up to your cheek, finally touching you and nearly drawing a moan from your throat as you leaned into his touch. when had you become so touch-starved? well, you could probably answer that.

“how badly i want to kiss you right now.”

you let out a breath as he looked down at your open and ready mouth. you both leaned in and finally kissed, rafe’s lips capturing yours and yours capturing his. your hand moved to his neck. his fingers on your cheek traveled into your hair again. you didn’t mean to make a noise but come on! you loved feeling his fingers in your hair.

“how i have you in my truck, in my backseat.” he pulled away to say, in a near whisper, then kissed you again. he licked into your mouth and it was difficult to find the words to portray just how amazing it felt. needless to say, your underwear was going to be soaked any second now.

you opened for him and moved closer to eliminate any space between you. he parted from your lips to travel downward. you leaned your head back, happily giving him the access he craved. your breath was coming out heavier now, but you didn’t have that panic of losing your breath like drowning. it was a good situation to lose your breath.

“how it’s been two days and i haven’t stopped thinking about the other night.” he admitted into the thin skin under your jaw. he switched hands, one holding your head in place and the other skimming over your chest. he nipped at your flesh.

“rafe,” you moaned and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“what do you want?” he asked, his hot breath blowing across your cheeks. you peeked your eyes open and saw tiny flakes of brown in his eyes. his hand traveled further until it landed on your thigh, squeezing and triggering the sweetest of shivers.

“i want your mouth on me.”

pressing a kiss to your lips, rafe pulled away again to look over your face. “are you sure?”

you nodded and let go of his shirt to touch his cheek. you just wanted to feel his mouth everywhere on you.

“please,” you said. you shuffled away from him reluctantly so you could situate yourself on the seat. your head and shoulders rested against the back door and you brought your legs up over his lap, already having slipped your shoes off. he watched you intriguingly. your stomach sank a little, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you down.

when his hands reached toward your bottoms, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face. he undid the button and tugged them down. lifting your legs so you could open them for him, he leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of your knee. his fingers traced your calf as he shuffled and bent down as awkwardly as possible in the cramped space. you felt bad for a moment until you saw the way he looked up at you. he wanted this just as much as you did.

keeping eye contact with you as he placed his mouth right over your pubic bone, you moaned faintly. it was so delicate and soft that you didn’t expect it to feel that way. he caressed your calf as he pressed another kiss over your underwear, moving lower and lower to where you had soaked them through. your face went a little red, anticipating his reaction to it.

he looked godly as he stared up the expanse of your torso and to your eyes, all the while his lips pressed against your clothed entrance. his groan at the state of your underwear sent ripples out from the exact spot he kissed, like the vibrations of him sent shockwaves through you.

“you’re soaked,” he breathed against you and had you wanting to close your legs. instead, you slipped from his grasp and took your underwear off.

pressing your left leg into the back of the seat, you opened for rafe again. he looked down at you in front of him and licked his lips hungrily.

“god, you’re fucking pretty.”

you bit your lip at the way he looked at you, like he wanted to go to town. you were all for it really, but with the way he’d been touching you so far you had a feeling he’d be super gentle.

taking your leg and guiding it over his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to your thigh. then he finally tasted you with a savoring lick between your folds. it felt so good that he even hummed against you. you moaned in return and slipped your eyes closed. you needed something to hold on to. searching for the seat, you reached up to that tiny metal pole of the headrest and curled your fingers around it. it was cool and grounded you to where you were.

rafe licked another stripe, making a delicious noise with his tongue. you were sure if you weren’t so aroused that you’d gag at the sound.

one of his hands moved to your hip now, his skin rough and warm against yours. a gasp left your lips as you flinched without much thought, your leg over his shoulder tightening. they were all caused by rafe’s tongue brushing over your clit, something you hadn’t expected yet. you surely welcomed it when he did it again after feeling your reaction. he did it softly the second time around and you felt him shift below you before one of his fingers appeared at your entrance.

“fuck,” you whispered mostly to yourself. rafe pulled away a second later and you gasped as his finger coated in your arousal before pushing into you at the same time he reconnected with your clit.

you moaned lowly from the back of your throat. “rafe, that feels so good.”

he spent a few seconds sucking on you until he disappeared again. “look at me,” he said with a squeeze to your hip. his finger continued to move.

you breathed through your mouth as you opened your eyes and looked down at him. his seemed a smidge darker, but he held a sweet and fascinated smile on his lips.

“do you want another?”

“y-yes, please.”

you reached down and grabbed ahold of his wrist on your hip. your fingers tightened around the headrest at the same time. rafe pushed in another and returned to your clit, his tongue moving. you moaned as you watched him, wondering why you had even closed your eyes in the first place. he looked heavenly between your legs, and it felt even better.

pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean. “fuck, you taste so good, baby.”

you whimpered the next moment when he wrapped his hand around your thigh and licked up your folds. both of your hands let go to attach to his hair, your fingers spreading and pulling.

rafe’s mouth worked over you a bit quicker this time and you could tell he was losing himself in it, but you were enjoying it. it was startling when his tongue dipped into you and he pulled away only to spit, but it blew your mind. he licked widely up to your clit then, mixing everything in to one as he closed his mouth over the sensitive mound.

“oh my god.”

you felt your muscles tightening in your abdomen and the familiar feeling of wanting to move, of wanting to release. your feet tensed, a white-hot fervor starting in your toes.

“fuck, rafe, i’m going to come.” you gasped. “make me come, please, please.”

rafe obliged, his tongue flicking over you and causing your muscles to tighten even more. your eyes pricked with tears; your legs tightened on either side of him. he held them open and you wanted to curse him out for not letting you close them, to trap him in place and never have him stop.

your hips lifted off the seat, bucking against his face as you grew closer. you thought you were ripping his hair out when you came undone, moaning loudly out into the truck, to the marsh. seconds later, your grip loosened on his scalp as he licked you clean, catching everything on his tongue.

pressing a kiss to your thigh, rafe pulled away slowly and sat up. you lay there for a moment, collecting yourself and catching your breath. the muscles in your legs felt like they liquified, but you could feel them harden again to help you move. the fire in your toes died out, a pulse still existent from your release.

“thank you.” you said to rafe as you sat up and pulled your underwear back on tiredly. you looked over to find him watching you with a soft smile and a subtle dent in his shorts. “can i do something for you?” you asked, nodding toward his lap.

rafe glanced down then shook his head at you. “no, that’s okay. i liked just tasting you.”

he didn’t say anything else as he brushed your hair over your shoulder and pressed a kiss there. his hand ran down your back. you grinned at your lap, holding your shorts and wondering where to go from there. rafe’s hand felt nice, his thumb rubbing gently. when you looked over at him, he leaned in and kissed you slowly. his hand moved up to the back of your neck while one of yours reached to touch his jaw.

“i should get home,” you said when you broke apart. you found those brown specks again and wanted nothing more than to analyze them further, but if you didn’t show your face at home soon, your phone would be interjecting in your time with rafe.

he nodded in understanding and moved apart from you so you could pull your shorts back on. “when can i see you again?”

it was such a stupid thing to make your heart leap in your chest. it even made your body flush as if it already wasn’t.

you grinned at him. “you have my number.”

he nodded again and moved in for another kiss. you reciprocated and gave it your all, hoping that if he hadn’t already decided, that he’d call you or text you tonight. it was thrilling to think about the next time you’d see him.

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly.

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

“Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

“Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

“It’s incredible,”

“Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

“A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

“Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

“Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

“Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

“How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

“Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

“Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.

“Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

“That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

“Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

“You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

“Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

“I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

“Jimin,” You sighed.

“What?” He snapped.

“I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything,”

“Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

“I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

“So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

“How did it start?”

“Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

“You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

“I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

“Still, you checked,”

“The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

“I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

“Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

“I regret that,” Jimin told you.

“I cried for two days,”

“I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

“It was such a dick move.”

Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

“I know,” He conceded.

“I can only assume it was on purpose.”

“It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

“I was,” You nodded.

“Was?”

“He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

“I was drunk,” He excused.

“You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

“I did,” He conceded.

“I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

It didn’t last through summer.

Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

“You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

“What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

“That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

“Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

“That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

“No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

“Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

“I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

“Bullshit,”

“You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

“Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

“I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

“Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

“You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

“No, I’m not,”

“Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

“I’m so-

“No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

“I’m so-

“Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

“Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

“You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

“I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

“You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

“I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

“There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

“I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

“Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

“You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

“No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

“Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

“I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

“But you didn’t,” You remind him.

“I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

“Jimin,”

“We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

“Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

“Because isn’t an-

“I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

“Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

“What?”

“Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

“Jimin, we’ve hardly-

“I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

“You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

“I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

“You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.

Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

“This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

“When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

“I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

“Such an-

“And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

“I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

“But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

“Jimin,” You murmured.

“What Y/N?”

“I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

“You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

“Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.

“Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

“You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

“I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

“Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

“You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

“I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

“We don’t have to have sex,”

“Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

“And you call yourself a journalist!”

“Shut up!”

“You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

“I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

“You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

“Yes,”

“To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

“Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

“Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

“Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.

“Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

“Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

“You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

“He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

“I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

“He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

“He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

“Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

“He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

“To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

“Was he shocked?”

“Pleasantly so,”

Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

“Jimin?”

“Yes?”

“Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

“No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

“It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

“Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

“No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

“Did he, did he bring me up when he-

“Dumped me?”

“Yeah,”

“Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

“I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

“Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

“I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

“You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

“When have I ever been subtle?”

“Clearly not in your Tw-

“Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

“Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

78 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 4 years

Note

Hello hello 🥺 I miss Hobi nd I just wanted to request a drabble piece with him as a teacher and your also a teacher and somehow??some students??? Ship you two??? And the next thing you know, they're trying to get you two together and oh boy...chaos ensues :') there's no pressure 🤗🤗 stay safe Hannah! 💞💞

base line

pairing: hoseok x y/n

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: hoseok swears that you’re intolerable, but maybe that’s just because you don’t greet him good morning like you usually do :D // gif isn’t mine!!

notes: my first hobi drabble!!! thank u for requesting and waiting babie!!! this threw me back to when i was in preschool and one of my earliest memories ever was me being a teacher’s pet and being able to read straightly and coherently :D (i am a mess now hee-hee)

you love your job

YOU LOVE YOUR JOB!!!!

YOU LOVE YOUR JOB!!!!!!!!

you shouldn’t even call it a job if you’re genuinely enjoying what you do, right??

there’s just some days that you feel like you’re going to sit down the puzzle-matted floor in the middle of the class, tuck your head in between your knees, and sCREAM then yeet yourself out to the corridor

ok but listen

you really do!!

you studied for this!! you have a degree!!! you have a license!!! being a preschool teacher has been the career path you’ve always wanted to take!!

you like being around kids in general and taking care of them and teaching them!!

your age gap with your older brother isn’t exactly small and that meant that growing up, you had to keep up with him!!

because FUCK coloring books and building blocks :-) let me read your textbooks :-) i can’t read but i wOuld like to pretend and bond with u

jin has kids of his own and since it’s only the two of you, that automatically meant that you’re the favorite aunt!! well because after all you are the only one

you’re young and you’re hip and you watch animated shows still!! you can resOnate with them!!!

seokjin can’t make his two-year old eat his steamed carrots but YOU can!!

aha you have now established power <3

but ya know,,,

being a teacher is different from being an aunt!! it’e worlds apart because not everything that applies to your nephews and nieces, also applies to other kids necessarily

obviously you can’t treat every kid to the park once they master their ABCs and can grip a pencil properly

you’re just exhausted ok!! it doesn’t make you love your job any less

it’s just as simple as that

wait actually no

there is ONE more hiccup in your job and at this point, the thought of it plagues your mind beyond your place of work

not it

h i m

jung hoseok — your co-teacher!!

your co-teacher that helps you in handling a batch of fifteen preschool kids for hours, two batches a day, five days a week

hoseok whose hair smells like vanilla and flowers and is never not wearing an article of beaded jewelry and has the good voice that could make three to five year olds listen

.,.,. hoseok.,.,.,. who isn’t yours.,.,.,

and hoseok.,.,., who probably hates you.,.

you’re not trying to make a reach but you FEEL it,,,, you feel it in your knees and your spleen that oh god your co-teacher probably resents you and just tolerates you to not make the kids worry :((

it doesn’t certainly help too that uhm

well

aha

... you may have a tiny crush on hoseok

maybe you really do like him or oR!!

or maybe you just see him practically like everyday and you find yourself paying more attention to him and finding details that you normally wouldn’t find for any other person besides him but-

“good morning, hoseok!!”

you mostly make french toast every morning because:

a) you’d probably eat it as often as you could until you could no longer look at it anymore and practically barf at even the mention of it

b) baby it’s EASY

c) you can make it as a batch and that way you won’t have to wake up every morning to cook for yourself

d) tastes immaculatE whether warm or cold

e) jungkook gave you his recipe after nagging him everyday for a month <3

you knew how to make it in the first place but uh well,,,.,,

jungkook is jin’s regular babysitter for his kids and he’s very organized although you won’t admit that

he’s carefree but like disciplined at the same time y’know

like YES eunji you can take a sip of my orange juice that ur appa told me not to give you BUT you need to drink one whole sippy cup of water okay??? say yes uncle goo

and he’d also have snacktimes and he’d make his own and french toast is one of them

one time you came over and babysitted with jungkook and u snuck out a piece from eunji’s bowl and wow

𝔀𝓸𝔀

every time you came over you’d make him cook and he’s all???

“y/n are you SURE eunji told you she wants two bowls of french toast?? to herself?? are you sURE???”

lmao he’s figured it out late that it was you who kept eating the french toast because he peeked at the bowl and then??? eunji’s mouth doesn’t bite THAT big??

not unless a toddler’s mandible is already that big and he’s been wrong all along

so the french toast?? yeah you put it in your cute tupperware with the cute waterproof stickers in the lid

AND SPLIT HALF WITH HIM

one loaf is to four squares and two of those are for hoseok :D

minor problem tho

he doesn’t take up your offer :((

maybe it’s just yOU who’s the problem at this point because you tried bringing other food and ?? he just shakes his head no and gives you a curt smile

every morning, you greet him!!

“good morning, hobi!!”

you call him that because that’s what jimin and namjoon call him since they’re your co-teachers!!!

... although maybe it’s just for friends of his only...... a-and well maybe you aren’t his friend

.... aha anywAys!!

you leveled it up a notch and switch up your greetings

“good morning handsome!!” or like “heeeeey cutie!!” or maybe even “hi sunshine!!!”

you: :D

him: :|

every afternoon, you ask him if he wants anything from the vending machine in the faculty room

every month, the principal gives tHREE bottomless cards to the best-performing teachers and that basically meant you don’t have to pull bills from your wallet to pay for overpriced soda

you’ve gotten it twice consecutively in the last month

free pass or not, if hoseok finally tells you what he wants from the vending machine, then you’d get it for him in a heartbeat and less

vending machine talks r some of the best talks and you want that :((

sometimes he’ll tell you that he’s full, or shake his head no, or semi-rudely glances at you and sets his head down and that translates to no

every weekend, you ask him if he feels ____ because you totally have that in ur apartment

“it feels a bit hot, no? good thing i have a new airconditioning unit :D”

no you don’t have a new airconditioning unit

you just had jin clean out the filters while you were at work and it’s basically the same thing, right??

pls say right

you’re basically FLIRTING with him

and you feel useless about it because you haven’t made any progress whatsoever no matter your approach :((

at first you didn’t feel embarrassed whenever namjoon pointed out your crush on hoseok

in fact, the whole faculty knows but you’re just gonna ignore that

you didn’t feel like a FOOL because it’s hoseok you’re making strides towards to

he’s worth the embarrassment that you don’t feel at all

and he doesn’t notice and doesn’t care and he probably won’t talk to you if you are the only preschool teacher in this school besides himself

you’re starting to feel the secondhand embarrassment joon always points out to you multiplied to five

oh god what you’re doing is LAUGHABLE

it’s even more painful to look at yourself in a third perspective because you look like an utter fool chasing after him and all he does is push you away

you’re tired of trying

it’s okay :)

hoseok looks like someone who’d tell all about your doings to his groupchat and they’d laugh at you together

wait no that’s quite a reach

you’re probably not even tHAT important to be made fun of in the gc :((

fine then

you’re gonna focus on everyone and everything else besides him -- it’s not like he’s even gonna notice anyway!! not that it’d matter

if hoseok can sleep at night peacefully without even acknowledging you, then you could sleep at night without him crossing your mind

sike

you kept thinking about not thinking of hobi last night that in return you did think about him

but that is the LAST time ok

you’re gonna start tallying this morning

wait a minute!! you don’t have to tally because you genuinely need to not care and be indifferent!!

....

oh....

wait this was easier than you expected

you feel a weight out of your chest when you kept your eyes on the ground when you passed by hoseok in the hall

you felt nervous initially because you never skip a day of not being all googly-eyes for him but you know!!!! this was actually nice!!!!

for a change yOu’re the one who’s unaffected and as cold as it sounds --

it feels good to not care :D

“up please!! up!!”

you’re feeling so zen and un-dejected that you forget for a moment that you’re still in class and yOU’RE the teacher

and it’s hyunjin!! one of the younger kids in class

also he’s quite the troublemaker and intentionally likes teasing you and being play-mad at him makes him giggle to no end

he does nOt vibe with hoseok he’d jus keep a straight face on and ??? no ur not teacher y/n

he’s tugging at whatever he could reach and if he turns out to be holding a marker in his hands then you might just Pass Away

you comply to hyunjin’s request but you know you’re gonna put him down in two seconds because you know that the other kids are gonna see and-

yeah nevermind

it’s now a carrying train :D

you just made up that name on the spot

it’s a line of kids going up to your arms, and then you passing them to hoseok, and then putting them down to the ground and them running back to the line again until everyone’s satisified

bAsically you’re passing around kids and it’s hoseok who calls off the game because you have no backbone sometimes when it comes to four-year olds

throughout the whole time though, hobi feels like something’s wrong

he just can’t place it

he’s trying to sniff so hard if someone had a toilet accident and he can’t smell anything??

maybe his shoelaces skipped a hole??

either way there’s just something wrong in the back of his head

anyways he better snap out of his daze before you ask if he’s okay or if he needs anything

....

........

why are you not looking at him

....

......

....

wAIT WHY ARE YOU NOT LOOKING AT HIM

huh

that’s weird

but you always look at him??? and he can see you in his peripheral vision and this time he can’t even see you glancing when his head’s turned????

hmmm

omg

his prayer’s been answered!!

honestly hoseok finds you kinda annoying and he’d like it if you just leave him alone and stuff and give up whatever it is that you’re doing

you finally got the message :D

yeah that’s good :D

hoseok’s okay he’s cool he’s happy he totally feels complete

“let’s stop now?”

hobi leans in to tell you because he counted and this is hyunjin’s third time on him

you’re kinda lost because he stops this game in his own accord but whatever

you just give him a smile and what’s THAT supposed to mean???

“oh sO do you want another round?? or??”

he’s enunciating it for you but it’s more for him actually

you just wave him off

.... communication.... where is it

he’s gathering the facts so far.

you’re not looking at him!! that’s fine

you didn’t call him handsome but hEh he’s handsome even if you don’t call him that

not that he needs comforting words and compliments.. or whatever...

that he can let pass because he doesn’t really care

but what he dOES care about is why are you not offering him anything right now???

where.,., WHERE is his french toast

he’s been putting his hand on his tummy for the past five minutes and rubbing it in circles and he’s ALSO humming every now and then

jimin’s lost as he’s writing his agenda for the week and hobi’s across him looking constipated and relieved at the same time

aHEM

ok what’s happening now

you’re... not trying to wedge into the same table he’s in.. ?

you plop right next to namjoon and he instantly throws his arm around yours because he’s been looking for you too

“hey!! how did your recipe night go??”

you reckon that joon allotted another evening for trying out new things because it helps him destress!!

he shudders just by thinking about the smell in his apartment and how opening the windows didn’t do shit

“tasted so bad i couldn’t even eat it :((“

mug cake is the actual devil!!!

imagine having to crack an egg along with a couple other things in a mug and cook it in a microwave and it doesn’t turn as good as the ones you’d see in youtube videos

congrats you now have bread stuck in a mug that smells like chocolate but tastes absolutely nothing like raw eggs

there’s an irritable scowl on his face and great now hobi just feels worse

it’s been almost a week

and practically everyone knows that something’s wrong going on with him and they don’t know wHY

some people dO have an inkling though,.,.

“ah, what seems to be troubling my best teacher?”

principal min drawls out as soon as hoseok enters his office before rolling his eyes at him

normally in other schools you’d be fIRED if you disrespect the principal but nah :D

yoongi takes pride in being the cool principal

he’s so cool that everyone’s in a first-name basis with him

he’s not your typical principal!! normally they’d be preppy and he’s not that much but when he sees the kids??? immediately goes soft

“you say that to EVERY teacher”

lol everybody knows that but no one points it out

he’s so grumpy that even the principal took notice of his behavior!!!

“there’s nothing wrong, okay??”

hobi says it in more of a scoff and that just goes against what he said

yoongi’s sitting here,,, eating his plain loaf of bread aND minding his own business,, and then now hoseok’s mad at him??

“don’t show me bread sTOP showing me bread!!”

the next day hobi’s so grouchy <3

there’s a circle that the kids are in and it just keeps going in and out

you and hobi are in the middle and each time they sing, the circle keeps getting sMALLER

now normally y/n from a week ago would blush to death

but present y/n just feels awkward and kinda :// at the whole situation

it’s not really a tight squeeze tbh but hoseok kEEPS going forward torwards you to the point that his arms around you already

he’s obviously flustered and he’s trying to recompose himself but you’re barely meeting his eye contact

okay now that hurt

god he’s just so left behind with what’s going on :((

and he won’t say this now but fUck he misses you!!! a lot!!!! he feels like pavlov’s dog and he’s automatically wired to miss your affection whenever he’s aware of your presence

does he uhm

does he l-word you??

“and that’s it!”

you’ve just finished teaching them how to fold a paper boat :D

that is a BIG achievement okay you’re actually serious

it teaches them how to be more patient and pay more attention!!

“you can give them your mom!! or if you have a tiny crush on someone in the room then-...”

lil seungmin steps right up to give you a boat

yes it’s wonky and the folds aren’t really done properly and won’t float in water but wow!!! that’s so cute!!!

you immediately thank him and ruffle his hair

he’s such a cute kid omg

“thank you s-...”

however hyunjin wOn’t be affected by that

with a huff does he march over to you and his long hair’s getting in the way (hobi just tied it awhile ago) but nO that is not important rn

he gives TWO paper boats but the other one he just stole it from jisung lmao

the kids are catching up and sUddenly it’s a competition to who gives who paper boats

there’s a fair share of boats between you and hoseok

you’re awed bc wow they really did learn and yOU taught them and it’s just so fulfilling to see wonky wittle boats :’’)

“give to who??”

the tiny felix sitting by your side tugs at your shirt and he’s pointing to the boat you made yourself sitting on your palm

“o-oh!”

how did you get put in the spot by preschool kids

oKAY definitely not hobi

maybe you can call namjoon from the other room???? or maybe even yoongs and-

the sudden shrieking in the room brings you down from your thoughts and you’re quite frantic trying to catch up

the commotion?? ur palm

hobi himself folded a crane!!

and it’s sitting snugly in your palm

he’s been feeling so lost the past week and he realized that it’s because of yOU and how he’s so dense to drive you away when all he wants to do is keep you close

hobi’s never really beamed at you directly like that before

you might just cry

hyunjin’s kicking the air and so does every kid who has googly eyes for their teacher

but it’s okay

it’s all okay because hobi’s looking at you the way you look at him and he’s the most gentle and pleasing thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on

it’s his turn to put his chin against his palm, a knowing smile on his face before he asks

“do you feel chilly tonight?”

#FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U :D I NEED SLEEP NOW OK #hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hoseok imagines #hoseok drabble #hoseok drabbles #hoseok au #hoseok oneshot #hoseok oneshots #hoseok fluff #hoseok fluff imagine #hoseok fluff imagines #hoseok angst #teacher!hobi #requested drabbles

272 notes · View notes

luvdsc · 2 years

Note

member pricing is horrible, especially when the group is popular like the dreamies or skz </3 i live in canada but there are so few canadian trade/selling accs that i usually end up buying from american sellers! i usually end up paying $12-15 CAD with the paypal conversion fees and such when i buy which is why i'm trying to hold back a little for now :') my ult is hyuck followed by jaehyun, renjun and jeno so it's hard for me to find decent priced pcs sometimes rip my bank account </3333 the pair of tbz pcs are usually for trade instead of sale but i've seen them go for up to $100 each on insta which is why i haven't bought either of them </3 what's kinda sad though is that i prefer their older album pcs (the not so sexy ones lmao) but since the album is out of print, people tend to either wanna trade, hold onto them or sell them for crazy high prices which really sucks but i've been able to get a couple cute ones for a good price :')

my sister pulled nabi sung without buying it and i was about to smother her in her sleep to steal it /j but i pulled double jisung for hot sauce and hyuck for hello future so i wasn't too upset after that!! i'm surprised that i haven't given away most of my collection for trades but i think my pulls have been good enough to make me wanna keep them!! (also you're minho biased!! the taste <3) i usually buy mine on insta but the ones that i need are never on there so i've been looking for other places that might have decently priced pcs :')

i'm really looking forward to buying my next group of albums (i usually order in larger quantities of 4 or more albums to save on shipping costs) and see what i get :') i'm also trying to learn how to make pretty toploaders so i'm hoping to order some stickers for that too!! 🩰

no fr the member pricing is absolutely insane for nct in general, like you have taeil going for $4 and taeyong and jaehyun going for $30 for a normal album pc during the resonance era ???? bunnyong pc was like $200 tho and that was crazy 😵‍💫 oh nooo I forgot about the conversion and paypal fee oof yeah, that definitely adds to it 😭 omg how are your collections for each of them, honey bee? Have you finished any of them? 💕 you chose the expensive members 🤧 I think renjun is pretty decently priced out of those four tho !! I don’t wanna even think about how much I spent on pcs, I know my bank account took a hit 😬😬 what tf ???? those two tbz pcs as expensive as taeyong’s 😭😭💀 are they from out of print albums ?? omg yeah a couple of my friends have been trying to buy their older albums, but they’re sold nowhere so I can only imagine how expensive they must be 😖 it must be like how empathy pcs and superhuman kihnos were incredibly overpriced back when those albums were oop too until sm finally restocked :’) who do you collect for tbz, lovebug? 💓

omg your and your sister’s luck for jisung 🤩🤩 and you pulled your ult too !!!!! amazing oh my gosh pls give me your luck for all future comebacks 🧎🏻‍♀️🍀 aaaa I feel this, like even if it’s a member I don’t collect, if I pull it myself, it’s hard for me to let go of it dhdjjdjdjdc one of my friends ults namjoon and my other friend ults jaehyun tho so when I pulled them both, I gave it to them 🤧 they’re not my faves and at least they’re going to someone who would appreciate them :’) yesss we love minho here 🤩💗 omg have you been able to find haechan’s glitch mode pcs on insta ?? I’ve been searching insta and I can barely find any 😭

oooo what’s the next batch of albums you’ll be ordering, sweetpea? 💘 are you gonna wait for the dreamies’ repackage (i’m assuming they’ll have one)? Omg I love decorating top loaders !!!! 🌸🌸 it’s soo much fun, and the stickers are all so pretty 💕 have you ordered some already? 🌷🌷

ALSO !!!! I had decided to try my luck with smglobalshop again and bought two more digipacks and they weren’t duplicates, thank goodness !!!! 💗 I got renjun and a full haechan set 💓💓 but I think the person packing them made a mistake because they gave me a third pob ????? OH AND I PULLED JISUNG AGAIN 🥺🥺💟💟

#asks #anonymous #🩰 anon #the cat collects

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namesmox · 3 years

Text

The Lucky Batch ☘️

For context visit here

“Are you sure about this?” Turning to the togruta beside him, Skip nodded. He’s avoided this like the blue shadow virus, but he decided he needed to do this. Kenhla gave him a small smile. “Would you rather us stay on the ship or come with you?”. “Jackal, can you come with me? General, may you please stay on the ship and make sure the others are ok?” “Of course, Skip. If you need me, just comm in, ok?” Nodding, the clones exchanged brief goodbyes with their general and began walking towards the city. The natives immediately recognized their armor, and some ran over to say hello. Skip let Jackal do the talking. Being back here hurt enough. He didn’t need to have a breakdown in the middle of a street. The duo began their small trek towards the building that held the cursed memories, stopping right outside. It had been turned into a memorial, while most would have shrugged and gone on with their day, Skip froze. Jackal, noticing his brother’s distress and guilt, wrapped his flesh arm around him. “Hey, everything is ok. There’s no fighting going on here. Breathe with me.” Drawing a shaky breath, he stepped over the threshold and into the void of memories that plagued his dreams.

The last time he was in this room, the walls echo his screams of agony, the metallic smell of blood filled his nose, his eyes blurry as his vod dragged him from the lifeless body of the only friend he ever had. The back wall was now missing, allowing the sunlight to illuminate the sight before the two clones. An apparent grave was in the center of the room decorated with flowers and small trinkets. Skip turned to his brother. “May I have a moment alone, please?” The other nodded, exiting the room. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”. Turning back towards the grave, he kneeled and pulled a candle from his back pocket. His fingers brushed the hilt of the knife, and he couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. The knife was cold in his hand. The beskar blade reflected his broken face stained with tear tracks. Ripping his gaze from the knife, he dropped it to the ground and turned his attention to lighting the candle. Placing it at the foot of the grave, Skip closed his eyes, trying his hardest to take deep breaths. “Hey Jaylen. I’ve missed you.” If he concentrated hard enough, he could still hear him laughing and feel him wrap his arms around him in a tight embrace. Keeping his eyes closed, he continued, “How’s everything held up when I’ve been gone? Glad I’m here to spice things up. You never find life boring.” A smile slowly grew over his lips as he talked to the ghost of his fallen friend. He talked about the happy memories, laughing about the fond times they spent together. Frowning, at the sad memories. He gave his heart to Jaylens ghost, a friend, a brother.

Time meant nothing to Skip. He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there, and he didn’t care. By the time he opened his eyes, night had fallen over the city, and the tear stains had dried. He bent down, touching his forehead to the ground.

“Gar cuyir Ner vod. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum bal im Ni ceta…”

You are my brother. I love you, and I’m sorry.

The walk back to the ship held a comfortable silence between Jackal and Skip. One was proud that his brother faced the root of his guilt and nightmares, and the latter was happy he made the closest thing to amends he could achieve. Before entering the ship they had yet to name, Jackal reached out, placing a hand on his brother’s back. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right? Sure it takes guts to shoot down droids in the sky but what you did was a different kind of bravery. I’ve never been more proud of you, little brother.” He continued onto the ship, allowing Skip to process what he said. ‘I might not ever fully heal, but I have my family, and that’s all I need.’

An empty room met Skip as he walked aboard, knowing Kenhla or Jackal had ushered everyone out so he could have space. Stepping inside the gunner’s nest, he was met with two things—a bowl of chocolate icing with chips and a card covered in stickers. Sitting down, he pulled the bowl into his lap and opened the card, and nearly cried all over again. Each of his brothers and the two padawans had written a small message saying they were there for him and how much they loved him.

Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to become whole once more...

@monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @just-another-dreamerr @lavenderstaars @the-lucky-batch @maygalodon

#clone force 37 #cf 37 #the lucky batch jackal #the lucky batch skip

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letsunity · 3 years

Text

The Lucky Batch ☘️

Cold Lullabies

With the information that Raffle delivered, Kenlha wanted to hear their side of the story. However, she struggled to muster the gut to do so, knowing the pain they must feel.

Every day, Kenlha misses Morast, wishing that she’d never been their padawan. Maybe the Clawdite would still be alive if Kenlha was dumped with another master, someone like Kit Fisto or Ki-Adi Mundi, the latter being a sociopath. Mundi was better than Mace Windu, the prick.

She has an idea how they feel. Though instead of losing one, they’ve lost many. Not only their batchmates but prior mother-figure, Master Bastet.

Master Fisto, Master Koon and Master Kenobi believed that she was best for this squad, they trusted her to care for them. In order to do that, she needed to know as much as possible.

Not only that, but share as well. They’ll be fully open to each other, no secrets between them. That’ll build trust and maybe make them almost competent.

The twins, however, are crafty bastards.

Foxy would direct the conversation in one of his many attempts to flirt. Thumbs would egg him on while Ballast laughed.

Pepper, being the only medic, could say that he was busy with one of his idiot brothers. Given how often this lot gets injured, she can’t argue that he’s was a busy guy.

It was a waiting game. She’d have to ambush one of them, get them comfortable with her.

This togruta space witch is even craftier than these twins.

While trying to mentor Brisk and Luna, she’d wait.

Eventually, Kenlha’s time came, just not how she wanted it to.

On one of the missions, Pepper was hurt, the fool more focused on protecting Foxy. He got an infection from the wound, even contracting a virus. Foxy was adamant that they not go back to Kamino, leaving them to follow Pepper’s fevered orders.

It inspired her to start practicing medicine, only for her to realise how complicated it was.

With perseverance and a visit from a clone named Kix, Peps was on his way to getting back on his feet.

Since he couldn’t run away, Kenlha would take advantage of the only moment she had.

“Looking better by the day,” Kenlha complimented, sitting next to Pepper’s bed. “You’ll be giving out stickers any day, buddy.”

“Goose will be thrilled,” the medic continued, wondering how high it’s body count was now. “Ryder needs a new Nexu sticker. Then I can make the hot Cheetos dipped in mashed potatoes scratch and sniff for him.”

It was sweet to see the new Ryder bring such a gift to Pepper, he adored it.

“Is it alright if I ask you something?”

“You can always confide with me, Ken. Doctor patient confidentiality ensures your secrets are safe with me.”

He was a soft boi, a good brother to her and an excellent doctor. When she looked into those mismatched eyes and his soft smile, it was easy to forget what he’d endured. What both twins went through together.

“I’d like to know about before me and before Master Bastet. I’m a Jedi, I can sense your instinctive caution around me, even though you don’t show it. As your General, your sister, I want to be there for you as you are for me.”

Perhaps it was the fever, maybe it was exhaustion, but he gave somewhat of a summary of what transpired with Master Laverna. She could feel the trauma, especially regarding the force-choke.

He had to hold his neck, recalling the events as though he was re-living them again.

Raffle forgot to mention that the Jedi’s death was an accident, but in her opinion, he deserved it. While she’s biased, being their sister, she can’t stand people mistreating the clones.

Being so close with the twins, she’s disgusted by that dead Cathar.

“I... sometimes I don’t think Foxy should’ve gotten involved,” the medic sighed, like a weight was lifted from his chest.

Understandably, Kenlha was surprised, though she wouldn’t voice it. He was sharing with her, she can’t ruin this. She can understand him more, and by doing that, she can be a better sister.

“He had a padawan, a girl, possible 11 or so, named Teles. I cut off her leg, but didn’t cut high enough, and she died, likely septic shock. I held her hand as that light fell away. Nothing he could’ve done to me would compare to feeling her going limp and cold.”

He felt responsible for her. He did everything he could and she still died. It’s a pain that Kenlha empathised with more than she wished she did. Her eyes burned as salty water seeped through her ducts, dribbling down her yellow skin.

“I often feel that I killed my master, Morast Tane. They were strict, but they were better to me than anyone before. They tried to guide my energy onto something productive and constructive, kind of like a parent to me,” Kenlha started, recalling the events herself.

“It was on a hot planet called Nevarro, magma and volcanic ash littering the ground. While fighting an army of droids, some damned flyers shot from above, causing the ground to become unstable.

I didn’t think. I jumped into the air, slicing through those bastards. One that I bisected fell, crashing into that unstable ground and causing Master Morast to fall. I tried to pull them up, but they fell into the lava.

The only word they could muster was Run before the cries started. Being outmatched, outgunned, we had to leave. There wasn’t even anything to bury them,” Kenlha sighed, the sensation of something clawing at her throat adding to the tears. “I know the pain of being responsible, even when others tell you it wasn’t your fault.”

The medic absorbed her tale, allowing her a few moments to recollect herself. The togruta held his hand, supporting herself and him in the emotional moment.

There were days she wished it was her instead of Master Morast.

“Do you remember the Endeavour, that ship that crashed down, killing two-thousand troopers?” Pepper started, his voice trembling. “I... could’ve stopped that from happening.”

She waited, feeling his grip tighten around hers.

“At Geonosis, while Foxy, Mozzarella, Springer and Locke were fighting droids, I and a few others were sent back to look for surviving Jedi. Instead, I found someone with my face, only far younger.

I knew who he was, everybody did. The Maker’s chosen child, the payment for his involvement in making us. The one that he named Boba, raising as his own.

If I’d just taken him in or hell, even shot him, then all of those clones would still be alive. Master Windu and Master Skywalker wouldn’t have been hurt. Instead of that, I let him go, lying to my fellows that I didn’t find anybody.”

“While the Endeavour was a tragedy, I think you did the right thing. They were only a child, weren’t they? Even by Mandalorian standards, he was a kid, right?”

“Master Bastet said something similar. And she’s dead too. I tend to have bad luck regarding Jedi.”

He was afraid to get close to her in case she died. It’s an understandable fear, she was terrified of ever having a master again.

Kenlha was scared to even be a Master, worried that she’d never live up to Morast with her young girls. Brisk and Luna were outliers too, so she had an advantage there, but still.

There are days where she wondered if Morast would’ve been better for them.

“I won’t promise that I’m not gonna die. We all die eventually, many earlier than they should. What I will promise, Peps, is that I’ll be here for every day that it gets hard. During the days it feels like there can’t be a tomorrow, I’ll be right here to listen. All of us, even Goose.”

“Foxy’ll need an ear, too. He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.”

“He was adamant that we steer clear from Kamino. Would I be pushing it if I asked why?”

She watched those green and brown eyes ponder, thinking over her question. As with before, he chose to share.

“Foxy and I aren’t just twins. There’re loads of twins, Echo and Fives from the 501st for example. We, however, are literal twins. Our clump of cells split and we grew attached at the shoulder,” he explained, motioning to his tattooed shoulder. “The Kaminoans, having not seen it often, experimented on us to prevent it from happening again. Our earliest memories have made us dislike them, especially the one named Nala Se.”

It made sense and she could agree with it.

“Then to ensure that we don’t go, I think I’ll have to learn some doctor lessons from you. I’ll be your, um, what’s that dumb thing Jackal says?”

“P-to-the-wan?”

“Yep, I’ll be your medic padawan,” she smiled, earning one from him as well. It was a beautiful thing, given his experiences. “Have a sleep, pal. We’ll give you a few minutes of peace.”

“There’s tape in Boots’ room,” he chuckled. She smirked, knowing that it would be for Ballast. “It... was good talking with you, Ken.”

“You too, Doctor Bro.”

Kenlha will talk with Foxy as well. She’ll talk with all of her siblings, assuring them that she’s there for ‘em. Not just her clones but her padawans, too.

She wasn’t going to lie, it felt good talking to Peppy about her feelings as well.

Feelings aren’t accepted in the Jedi Order, so he made her feel valid. It was something she desperately needed from someone, and she was happy it was from Peps.

This is a good family she’s found.

Love you guys!

Tags: @lynnpaper @just-another-dreamerr @maygalodon @radbatch @oo-hazel-oo @foxlock @lusiawonder @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @monako-jinn-stories @namesmox @generaltano @lavenderstaars @mango-peachjuice

I am evil, yis 😈😈

PS - it’s 3:23am lol brain is working overtime!

#The Lucky Batch #Clone Force 37 #Chaos/Comfort

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thetomorrowshow · 4 years

Text

Slower Than Words Ch. 19

First - Previous - Next

Don’t have the energy to edit this chapter. Let me know if there are any grievous errors.

cw: food, angst

Patton was antsy all the way home from the hospital. Home—it was such a strange word. He didn't even know what it looked like. When he said 'home' to himself, he pictured the one-floor Haven house on the dirt street, lined on either side with identical houses. He pictured Father in that living room, wearing his lab coat and Haven-made clothes, sitting next to a picture of Patton's mother. When Father told him he was going to have his own room again, he pictured Virgil.

Patton didn't want his own room.

Remus, a man that Patton remembered seeing in the Haven, was also living at this so-called home. Remus smiled a lot, and when he first came to visit Patton in the hospital, had given him a teddy bear. Patton wasn't sure how to feel about this. Very few children in the Haven had toys past the age of ten, and he had only ever had a homemade jump rope and a doll made from scraps of rags. He remembered jealously watching other children play outside with their few toys and stuffed animals traded for from Outsider salesmen, but Father never got him one, despite his pleading. It was weird to have one now, in a world where it was not a novelty item, but commonplace.

Patton wondered how Remus had found out he'd wanted one.

The buildings around them were varied, huge. Patton was feeling rather sick from the car ride, but continued to look out the window in amazement. What did people need these huge buildings for? What did they do there?

Finally, they arrived at the apartment building Father called home. Father stopped the car—there were maybe two cars in all of Haven, and Patton couldn't help but wonder where Father had learned to drive—and gave Patton a nervous smile, to which Patton responded in kind. All his possessions were whatever clothes from the Haven that Father had grabbed (which were now too large), Virgil's hoodie, and his new teddy bear. He carried the bear with him as they entered the building, the clothes in a black plastic bag in Father's hand.

The building stunk, an acrid scent that made Patton scrunch up his nose in distaste. It was dark too, seemingly lit solely by the glass panes around the door that they had entered through. They had not come in the main door of the building, which was around the other side. The door they entered led onto a landing, stairs hugging the walls above and below. Was this really home?

Father led Patton straight up a staircase, bypassing every door as Patton stopped beside them. Eventually, when Patton stopped after the sixth staircase, panting for breath, Father went down the hall and unlocked and opened a door on the left side, then ushered Patton through it.

This place was certainly nicer than the rest of the building that Patton had seen so far. It smelled a little like bleach, but mostly like cinnamon or nutmeg (with the stench of the rest of the building in the background). Patton had always loved the smell of cinnamon. Had Father really remembered that, and somehow made this place smell like something comforting to Patton?

The door opened into a living room, which had clearly been hastily cleaned. A pillow and a blanket were haphazardly draped over the small couch, and the only other piece of furniture was a faded yellow armchair, not at all matching the peeling leather of the couch.

A kitchen led off from the living room, a yellowed refrigerator overlooking cramped counter tops. Rectangular boxes were haphazardly balanced atop the appliance. The lights were off in the kitchen, and as Patton strained to get a better look at the tiny space, Father led him down a thin hall.

One door off the hall led to a bathroom, which looked pretty average as bathrooms go. It was similar to the one they'd had in the house back at the Haven, a one-cube shower and a small toilet with a cabinet under the sink.

Once again Father led him past, into a room that was best described as quaint. The bed was thin, the mattress cushier than he expected as he sat on it experimentally. The floor, like the floor of the living room and hall, was carpeted in a scratchy grey. The walls were a pale off-white, the only break in them being the doorless closet. There was a wobbly-looking chair beside a squat desk, and Patton smiled to see a stack of paper and a pack of colorful markers on the desk. It was the most homey detail he'd noticed so far—there was no art on the walls, no overstuffed bookshelves, no color anywhere. Perhaps he'd be able to brighten the place up.

The room was bare otherwise, just like the rest of the apartment. Patton took a moment to run his hand against the wall, trying to ignore how he was shaking. He was exhausted, and really really hungry, but he couldn't tell anyone because—

No. He could tell Father. Nobody was going to hurt him here.

Patton looked to Father, only to see him biting his lip anxiously. He raised his eyebrows in a question, shrugging a bit, as if to say, I'm sorry it isn't more.

Patton nodded, forcing himself to smile as brightly as possible. Father's shoulders slumped into a more relaxed position. With a quick explanation of getting food, Father left the room, carefully placing the bag of clothes on the chair.

What Patton wanted to do was flop onto the bed and fall asleep, but he shook off the urge. It wouldn't do to let his clothes get wrinkled. Father had never let him leave the house with messy clothing (something in his head pointed out that Father's clothes were wrinkled and the top button of his shirt was undone today, the equivalent of him staying in bed all day).

The chair had a sticker on it, which Patton stared at. It had numbers scribbled on it—12.99—and said something about 'no refunds'. Patton assumed it was money; the Haven-dwellers had never really had money, as it wasn't used in a society where everything was shared. Father had taught him about money, and so had Virgil, but it had never quite clicked. This was a price of some sort? Father had to pay that number for this chair? Hopefully it wasn't too much.

Patton removed his few articles of clothing from the bag and hung them up with the handful of cheap clothing hangers in the closet. He pulled out Virgil's hoodie last of all. If he closed his eyes, he just pretend that he was at home. There was a batch of cookies in the oven, bringing that cinnamon smell, and he was holding one of his own shirts. Father was in the kitchen, poring over one of his work projects. Any minute now, he would come to get Patton for dinner. After dinner, Father would pull his book of maps from behind the bookshelf and tell him tales of faraway lands, like Mongolia and Italy and Cincinnati. Home was warm, wasn't scary, was safe.

And now, as he thought back, Patton remembered nights where Father would spend dinner glancing out the window, then would send Patton directly to bed. There were nights when Father would come home and practically drag Patton out the door to eat dinner at the communal dining hall, which they normally only did on Sundays. There were nights where Father wouldn't make dinner at all, instead lock himself in his room and not come out until the next morning. There were nights where Father fidgeted with his tie and glasses, clearly upset by something.

Home had never been safe.

Patton opened his eyes, saw the blandness of his new room. The apartment was cramped, smaller even than their house in the Haven—and this place they shared with Remus. It smelled bad, even with the cinnamon scent, and was dark. The whole building made him uncomfortable, as if one of the sinners that the Prophets always warned against would jump out at him from around any corner.

This place—not home, certainly—was not safe.

Patton looked down at the black-and-purple hoodie in his hands. Despite how much his life had been controlled while trapped in the lab, how little of an effect he had on anything, how it was entirely possible to be dragged out at any moment and experimented on, the only place Patton could say was safe was that room. No, not the room—Virgil. Virgil was safe.

Patton sniffled, and realized belatedly that he was crying. He couldn't let Father see—it might upset him, and after all he'd done for Patton, and how hopeful he was that Patton would like the apartment. . . .

Patton dried his eyes on his sleeve, then sat heavily on the bed and ran a hand over the bed sheet. It was softer than the ones at the Haven, but much thinner. One night of restlessness would probably put a hole in it. Patton resolved to not mention it. It was clear that Father was trying his best, and Patton didn't want to make him feel bad for not having much money.

At least there aren't bugs, Patton thought absently. Several years past, the barracks had become infested with cockroaches. It had taken months to exterminate them, and in the meantime the individuals living in the barracks had had to stay with those in houses. Patton didn't really remember who had stayed with them, but it had been some woman that Father treated coldly.

Patton kicked his shoes off—which were very bright green, he'd stared at them for a good five minutes when Remus had brought them to his hospital room—and dug his socked feet into the carpet. It wasn't as bad as it looked, he decided. He could walk through the apartment without shoes on. Shoes felt weird after months of not wearing them.

Patton's door swung a little bit and he flinched violently. It couldn't close, please he couldn't let it close, it had to be open—

He dove for the door, only to look up and see Father holding the doorknob, still swaying the door back and forth. Right, that was how Father had notified him it was dinner in the past. He straightened up, trying to act like his heart wasn't racing. Father's eyes seemed to bore into his, but eventually Father gave him a tight smile and led the way to the kitchen.

Dinner was strange. Father called it a “microwave dinner”, a strange name for something that was too small to be an actual meal. Not to mention they were individual portions, and dinner was a family meal. It tasted great, though, and Patton wondered if he'd ever tire of food that wasn't one of the five or six cycling meals that he ate while locked away with Virgil.

Father explained after dinner that they would be starting on Patton's diet next week, which would apparently consist of a lot of liquidized foods and protein. Remus had called it a “high-high” diet, then laughed, but Patton wasn't sure why it was funny. Remus wasn't with them right now, Father had said something about Remus working late shifts.

There were no dishes to wash, since the dinners had come in disposable containers and the forks had been plastic. Father led him to the living room and showed him something Patton hadn't noticed before—a television. They'd had a projector and screen at the Haven, which Virgil had said was similar. Father clicked the remote, and Patton was surprised to find something already playing. It wasn't too exciting: he didn't know what was going on, what the people onscreen were saying, what the story behind the program was. He quickly became bored.

Father kept looking over at him, a hopeful light in his eyes, a nervous smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. Patton forced a grin onto his own face, as wide as he could possibly make it, and focused on the television. He felt slightly guilty, but mostly relieved, when Father relaxed and sat down, gesturing for Patton to take a seat too.

As the sunlight beaming through the dusty window faded completely and Father clicked on a dim, yellowish lamp, Patton realized that he'd be giving a lot of fake smiles in the foreseeable future.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides

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itbe-jess · 3 years

Text

Masklophobia: Chapter 6

Karl's Paradise- 02x04: My Webby Valentine

Now onto the 4th episode of the 2nd season. It's a... ...god damn Valentine's Day special. As you can tell by the title. Anyways, let's dive right in, shall we?

The episode begins with that hillbilly lizard, who's at the start of every episode, taking a nap by the "Welcome to the Paradise" sign. He then awakens, yawns, then a cartoon bee flew into his mouth. He choked for a while, then eventually spat it out. Next, the show pans to the Paradise town, festive in Valentine's Day decorations. We witness a lot of heteronormativity coming from the stock puppet characters. After that, we cut to the Paradise Critters.

More random puppet characters are fishing by the lake, when Fins popped up, holding a bouquet of roses, saying "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! *Chuckles*" The fisher puppets come to take a closer look at the roses, and sniff them, but then water had sprayed out. She laughed, then presented them with real roses as a "No hard feelings" apology.

Cut to Junior; He was in school, where his classmates were having a card exchange. A female student (named Shirley) was two seats away from him. Shirley was a dog puppet, with pigtail like ears, and she appeared to be checking Junior out. Ughhhh, forced romance on eight year-olds. She stared at Junior as she watched him sort through his box of cards, just carelessly shuffling and making himself a mess. The mammoth stopped as he picked something up: Chocolate candies with a card attached. Shirley seemed to be fullfilled, implying that it came from her. Unfortunately, Junior crumbled up the card, tossed it aside, then ate the candies. Shirley was left heartbroken. "Boys..."

We then now cut to the Happy Belly Diner. Yum-Yum was placing a bunch of Valentines Day treats, including a punch bowl, on the counter. Barkstone and Saxxo stared in awe. Mama LongLegs was in the background, hovering over a bowl of soup. Back to Yum-Yum, she said that King Karl had chosen her to be the caterer for this year's Valentine's Day ballroom party. She let Saxxo have a sample of one of them. After trying one, he commented with glee.

"Mmm, mmm mmm! This some hearty, heart filled goodness right here, Yums! Although... Maybe ah should try another batch-"

"Don't you dare, honey! These are for the Lovers Ball! But... ...if you're still hungry, I whipped you up a special Valentine gift."

Yum-Yum presented Saxxo with a small gift box. Inside the box were Valentine's Day sugar cookies, shaped like hearts.

"Aw, mama, this awfully SWEET of you. Wish ah had the time to make you somethin'."

"No need for that. Just keep up with them soothin', jim-dandy melodies."

"Oh! Perhaps ah can treat you to a personal, live performance. You gonna dig this tune! Ah wrote it specially for the Lovers Ball!"

"Interesting. Do you have a name for it?" Asked Barkstone.

"Yes indeedy, man! It's called 'Gonna Take Super Sticky Glue To Keep Me Close To You!'"

While Saxxo played some smooth jazz on his saxophone, the next segment transitioned. It was a beautiful, pencil drawn animation, with a harp score, about a cupid helping a sad, lonely boy cheer up by hooking him up with a girl. ... Apparently, romance is the key to find happiness. Good animation. Bad message.

We're back to the Happy Belly Diner scene, except it's filmed from the outside, with Van Goose coming up. Before she enters the diner, she ran into Mama LongLegs coming out.

"Hahppy Vahlentine's day, Meess LahngLegs!"

"Ohhhh, *Stomps foot down* bah humbug!"

The spider storms away angrily, leaving Van Goose confused. As she entered, Saxxo stops and greets the bird.

"Ees eet just me, or ees LahngLegs up een seex ahrms?"

"Mm. It ain't just you, babeh. She has been quiet around this room, sittin' all by herself while lookin' so gloom." Said Saxxo.

"I'll say. She ordered herself some soup, and told me to hold the fly." Said Yum-Yum.

"Fortunately, there is a basis behind this tale. The poor lady arachnid is faced with another lonely episode on the most romantic day of the year! The day where she once believed she had a chance to find the love she's been yearning for, but now accepted the fact that it would just turn out the same dull way as always. Well, it's not her fault for being so unattractive." Said Barkstone.

Saxxo and Yum-Yum both smacked the blue dog for that last statement. The four fell into a discussion on how they wanted to cheer Mama LongLegs up. Barkstone suggested that they let her be. Yum-Yum suggested that they find a man for her, who won't be repulsed by her looks. (Maybe a literal blind date) Saxxo suggested they each give her a gift to make her feel better. Suddenly, a lightbulb appeared over Van Goose's head, indicating that she had an idea.

We pan to the outside of LongLegs's cottage, then inside of her cottage, where we find her knitting webs. She made herself a sweater, complained about how ugly it looked, then dealt with the fact that she might as well wear an ugly sweater, since she would never catch true love anyways. The doorbell rang. LongLegs threw her sweater on the floor, then marched angrily to answer the door.

"Can't a lady go through an emotional state in peace?!"

Nobody was there. Well, something was there. On her doorstep, there was a basket, which contents were a bouquet of flowers, a heart shaped box, and an envelope sealed off with a heart sticker. She took the basket inside. The flowers were an assortment of different colors and varieties, and smelled like a breezy garden. Inside the box were chocolate covered grasshoppers. They looked yummy, and tasted like they came from an expensive candy store. The letter was a romantic poem.

"Each passing day and each passing night, I wish I could keep you in my sight. With your stellar talent, I knew you had broke the mold. All six arms of yours I wish to hold. Let's reprise Miss Muffet, add in a little twist. Whereas instead of running away, it ends with a kiss. You are the spice providing the flavor. I'd like to meet you sometime later. With love... ...your secret admirer."

Mama LongLegs was so delighted, she began to break into song. I am not gonna recite it for you. It's pretty forgettable. Anyways, it was about her wondering what her secret admirer is like. Is he tall, short, fair, or dark? Is he slender, or a brawny champ? Is he an elegant duke, or a wild bad boy? Throughout the song, we are taken into her cartoon visualizations. She imagined her man to be another spider of some sort. Marvel Comics' Spider-Man was deemed the "brawny champ" of the song.

"I don't know what he is, or what he looks like. All I know is that I finally found someone who admires me deeply. Wait, 'I'd like to meet you sometime later.' *Happily squeals* Ohhh boy! Ohhh girl! I betcha he'll be there at the Lovers Ball! Oh, but what shall I wear? I can't be seen in this old thing on a special night like this! How's my breath?! My hair is way too uptight!"

Meanwhile, watching from the window outside;

"'I'd like to meet you sahmetime lahtair?' ees zat whaht we wahnted hare to believe?!" Van Goose snapped.

"I'm sorry, babeh. Ah was runnin' low on time to tell a rhyme, so ah improvised. Is that a crime?" Saxxo replied.

"What if we just tell her that the Lovers Ball is probably not the time her secret admirer had in mind?" Asked Yum-Yum.

"Because zen she'd question us on how we knew zat hare secret ahdmeerair wahnted to meet hare sahmetime lahtair. eet just gives eet ahll ahway."

"You have a good point. What do we do now?"

Unfortunately for Barkstone, he had plans.

"I'd love to help you untangle out of this WEB, but I have to get ready for the Lovers Ball tonight. I have a date with a purebred Maltese!"

The magician dog disappeared in a puff of smoke. The three other Critters coughed, and started fanning away the smoke.

"Why, I don't believe him! There's only five hours away till the ball, and he just gave us the bum's rush! Boy am I surprised he managed to land himself a date."

Yum-Yum's complaint gave Van Goose a new idea.

"I sink I cahme up weeth a new nahtion!"

"Sink is right. We sure sunk."

"No, Saxxo, no! Sink! Sink! Idea! I mean I've gaht a new plahn!"

"New plan? Well, why didn't ya say so? Lay it on us!"

"You see: LahngLegs ees hahpeeng fahr hare secret ahdmeerair to be ze perfect mahn, right? Hut whaht eef we try to cahnveence hare zat he's naht whaht she'd expect?"

Yum-Yum and Saxxo liked the plan, and they slapped both of Van Goose's wings a high-five. We cut to the next skit, where it's a humorous cartoon that tells the tale about animals "expressing their love" in different ways than humans. I'm pretty sure that's what animals do before they mate. Of course, kid shows shouldn't let kiddies know that the animals fuck.

Now we're down to the LabRat segment. Same opening with the eerie enterance and organ music, blah blah blah. Pan to LabRat. It appears he is working on one of those chemical setups. I don't know science, sorry. All the chemicals are then transferred into this cologne bottle, then the rat seals it. Eger appears, and he has a potted flower on his head for no reason.

"Hello, master!"

"Why hi, Eger. How has- Eger, you have a potted flower on your head."

"Ohhhhh, that's funny! So do I! Anyways; Happy Valentine's Day, master!"

Eger gives LabRat a Valentine card, where it said "You blinded me with science."

"Awwwwww, Eger, you shouldn't have. Really."

"So, what did you get me?"

LabRat panicked for a moment, and searched around his labcoat to find something. He then pointed to a fake distraction so that Eger would turn his head. LabRat grabbed the potted flower, and gave it to him.

"It's lovely! Now I have a match for the one on my head! So, what have you been cooking up, master?"

"Oh, it's a device that will put an end to all loneliness."

"An ever-lasting pet rock?"

"No! Even better! *Turns the bottle around to reveal the labled name* A love potion!"

"Love potion? Love potion, master?"

"Yes, love potion! By just applying a small dose of this highly concentrated pheromone, the scent will lure in the love of your life!"

"Master, I don't think it's a good idea to force love on someone like that. Love takes time."

"Love takes forever. (Or in my highschool case, love takes never)"

"But master, it doesn't sound right! Love is too precious to mess with! A girl has a life of her own, you know? Why not just use the basic steps to winning the female species?"

Damn, this is probably the only time Eger had some decent sense. Also, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear the term "female species." Eger then brought out a presentation board with all the steps.

"Try being nice to her, like she were a person like you. Talk to each other to find out what you like in one another. Give her some pretty flowers. Then that's it! You don't need no stinkin' love potion."

"You have pointed out some very good details, Eger. But with my pride, the heck with it! I need a date to the Lovers Ball!"

Dismissing Eger's advice, LabRat told his assistant to stand by the door. He dabbed himself with the love potion, only at his arms and behind one of his ears. Then he told Eger to release the test subjects. Eger opened the door, to let in a couple of female puppet characters. If they were standing outside of the cellar this whole time, how come we didn't see them in the segment's intro? LabRat freshened his breath with breath spray and he put on a bowtie.

One of them approached the rat. Instead of giving him affection, she slapped him across the face. Another one came over, and stomped on his foot. The third one pushed him over. Finally, they all joined together for a good rat beating. Can't say he didn't deserve it. When they were done, the ladies exited the cellar in disgust. We pan to LabRat lying belly down on the floor. Eger hovered over him. When LabRat asked Eger to help him up, he just hit him on the snout.

"Bad master!"

Eger left to join the ladies, leaving LabRat alone in his lab. Groaning in pain, the rat picked himself up, using the nearby counter for support.

"Ya know, I've truly learned something from all of this."

You may think he has learned his lesson on not to probe a woman's feelings, but no, he decided to relabel his new invention as "hate potion."

The last animated skit of the episode, we watch yet another lovely animation (stop motion) about candy hearts forming the word "Valentine," then into a beating heart. We then transition to the night scene, outside of the Lovers Ball. Pan to inside, everyone is having a ball. Dancing with their partners, eating, drinking punch. Saxxo was performing on stage. Slouch was the security, but currently sleeping on the job.

Barkstone was wearing a black tuxedo, Yum-Yum wore a skirt and some jewerly, Saxxo wore a sequin suit, Van Goose wore a white tuxedo top, and Mama LongLegs had a red dress, pearl necklace, and her hair tied in a ponytail. Speaking of Mama LongLegs, she was sitting at a table for two, all by herself. Van Goose was at the buffet table, getting herself some punch, while watching the poor spider await for her Prince Charming. A pig puppet approached her table.

"Is this seat taken, ma'am?"

"Yes!"

"By who?"

"My dreamboat, that's who!"

"Where is he?"

"He'll be here, eventually!"

"Has he arrived yet?"

"No, but he will!"

"Mind if I warm up this chair for him while you wait?"

"TO THE MOON, PORKCHOPS!"

Mama LongLegs raised her voice, causing the pig to scurry. Van Goose went over to Yum-Yum, who brought over another tray of hors d'oeuvres, and told her to act now. The bear came up to LongLegs' table, helping herself to a seat. LongLegs was confused at first, because she was expecting a man.

"Hey, LongLegs. How have you been, hun?"

"Ahhh, I've been doing fabulous now that I've found love on this day to celebrate! Heeheehee. Now please get out of that chair before he gets here and thinks I gave his seat away."

"Oh, you met someone? I'm very happy for you! What's this fella like?"

"Well, we didn't exactly met, but we're expecting to meet here, at the Lovers Ball. He implied it in the letter he sent me. *Gives letter to Yum-Yum* Along with some chocolate covered grasshoppers and fragrant flowers. Now, may you pardon yourself-"

"*Pretends to read note* Oh my goodness. Uh-uh, oh my goodness. Tsk tsk tsk."

"What is it?"

"Hun, I think I recognize this handwriting. I don't know his name in particular, but I do know who this came from. This dude dropped by the Happy Belly Diner a few weeks back. Gracious, I've never seen such a messy eater in my life. He slurps his stew, shoves his entire plate clean in one bite, and digs his face, literally, into his dessert. Talk about animal manners. Messy, messy, messy."

"Ooooooohhh, sounds like he has the appetite of a real predator! I like that in guys."

Well, that failed nicely. After being politely asked to move from the chair one last time, Yum-Yum excused herself. She then broke the news to Van Goose, on how LongLegs was excited to know that there's someone who eats more disgustingly than her. Van Goose decided to ask Saxxo next. Meanwhile, Yum-Yum found a sad, lonely old man. ...dog. Drowning his sorrows in punch.

"You seem under the weather there, Barkstone."

"Well don't rain on my parade."

"Had trouble with your date?"

"Like that's any of your business!"

"Okay-"

"She left me for this feeble, puny little Chihuahua. I'll never understand women."

Elsewhere, Saxxo was playing the tune he showed us earlier in the episode. Suddenly, Van Goose called him from behind the red curtains. The show still had to go on, so Saxxo put someone else in his place. A rabbit puppet that played the spoons. Saxxo went behind the red curtains, then came out covered in roller bandages, and walked with a cane. King Karl witnessed the whole affair, which got him to be suspicious. The tiger limped as fast as he could to Mama LongLegs.

"Oh jeez, Saxxo! What happened to you?!"

"That fella... Your secret admirer... Earlier that day, Ah was just all cool, playin' mah music to go, when ah bumped into HIM! He a bad dude! I'm not talkin' bout the good kind of bad!"

"HE did this to you?"

"Uh-huh. I wanted to pass by, and forget the whole thang ever happened, but this man got issues! He battered me to a pulp, and was well aware that ah was uncapable of defending myself. Look at dis body and say otherwise!"

"Golly! He must be such a strong, sturdy hunk! (I think I'm in love!)"

"What about me?!"

"Well, you did bump into him without saying 'excuse me.'"

That plan backfired as well. The only option left was to tell Mama LongLegs the truth. Before Van Goose got to say anything to LongLegs, Barkstone made a dramatic entrance with a puff of smoke. He was now sitting in that chair, wearing a ridiculous spider costume, and a false mustace.

"Sorry I'm late, madam! My limo needed repair. Might I introduce myself: I am John George Henry Lewis Raphael III! Owner of the largest oil company in the Paradise, and The First National Kidney Donor Bank!"

Van Goose tugged Barkstone by his false mustace and whispered into his ear.

"Bahrkstahne, whaht ahre you doing?"

"Helping out, of course. You owe me big time in this, by the way."

The dog continued to chat with LongLegs. You couldn't tell by her face, but her tone showed that she wasn't falling for it. ...and ready to kill.

"My, you sure are lovely on this fine night! Did anyone ever tell you that you look better in the dark lighting?"

"Barkstone... ...what is this?"

King Karl appeared and asked "Yes, what is this," but in a lighthearted manner. After Van Goose painfully tore off the false mustace from Barkstone's face, she explained everything. Since LongLegs' bad mood and losing hope in Valentine's Day, Van Goose decided to make up a fake admirer so that LongLegs knows that she is loved. Barkstone provided the flowers (magically), Yum-Yum made the chocolate covered grasshoppers, and Saxxo wrote the poem. Van Goose guided them.

She also explained that they never intented to have this secret admirer meet Mama LongLegs, but had no choice because Saxxo got carried away in the rhymes. King Karl lectured the four Critters. He told them that it's never okay to fool somebody's feelings, and quotes that love is too delicate to mess with. There are many alternatives to making your friends happy, especially on Valentine's Day. Van Goose timidly stepped up to Mama LongLegs, and apologized for all that has happened.

"We're ahll equally sahrry, LahngLegs. We just wahnted to mahke you hahppy, ahnd breeng your speerit een Vahlentine's Day bahck, because we cahre fahr you. We nevair meant to breeng such hahrm."

Mama LongLegs hesitated for a moment.

"As much as I want to be mad at you, it's just impossible knowing I have friends who love me so much. I guess the best Valentine a woman can ever have is her own friends."

Van Goose and Mama LongLegs hugged things out. The others joined in too, even Barkstone, only because the moment was too heartwarming to ignore. Before the episode ends for good, and the credits roll, it's Paradise Fun-Time, which Van Goose shows us how to make crafty Valentine's Day cards. Seems more relevant than any of the hacks from 5-Minute Crafts. Catch you later, loves!

#The Banana Splits Movie #remake #horror #Masklophobia #original characters

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